Death of an Adept

"I am," Adam replied, smiling to himself. "I seem to recall that you have or had access to certain sources that - ah - are not available to the civilian authorities. That being so, I was hoping I might prevail upon you to do some checking on our behalf."

"I'll be more than happy to assist," came Graham's response, "though I can't guarantee success, with so little to go on."

"There is one more item that may help," Adam said. "We have a mug shot of Evans, and also an artist's impression of what Taliere looks like, done up at Callanish by Peregrine Lovat."

"Ah, young Lovat. From what I recall of your young artist-friend's abilities, that ought to be as good as a photograph. Yes, those and a set of fingerprints should suffice to get me started. Do you have access to a fax machine?"

"I can send through the material within the hour," Adam promised. "Is it the same number?"

"One digit after."

"Right. Thank you, Gray. I appreciate your help, as always."

"Happy to oblige. Incidentally, I don't suppose your mother is there, by any chance? I've been meaning to ring you since the new year. I had a very vivid dream about her."

Adam turned to grin at Philippa, who had risen expectantly from her chair.

"She's here with me now, Gray. I'll put her on."

After handing the phone to Philippa, Adam took McLeod and Peregrine off to the kitchen to fetch fresh tea and to give his mother privacy. She was back at her needlework by the time they returned with the new pot of tea and a tray of fresh scones and sandwiches, but she offered no details of her conversation with John Graham. While she distributed the tea, Adam assembled the documents to be faxed through to Graham and sent them. Ximena and Julia returned shortly thereafter, effectively ending the morning's business; but until Graham came up with a new direction for their investigations, further speculation was unlikely to produce any useful results.

No inspiration came during sleep to change Adam's estimation of the situation. Aware that it might well take time for Sir John to complete his research, Adam drove in to work the following morning with no expectation of any immediate breakthroughs. After teaching rounds, he saw patients for the rest of the day, with hardly a break for lunch, and by four o'clock had finally retreated to his office to update his case notes for the day. He answered the buzz of his phone somewhat distractedly, but immediately shifted focus on hearing the voice at the other end of the line.

"Hello, Adam, it's Gray. Are you alone?"

"I am," Adam replied, "but you know this line."

"Yes, I do." A note of suppressed tension clipped the voice of Sir John Graham. "I have some information for you, but I'd rather not relay it by telephone. Could we meet up face to face to discuss it?"

"Certainly," Adam said, turning the page of his desk calendar. "I've got two therapy sessions scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I could probably catch the noon shuttle and be with you for tea tomorrow afternoon."

"I'd rather discuss it sooner than that," Graham said. "If you were to call upon me tonight, you would find the door open."

Adam caught his breath slightly as he realized that the senior Adept was not proposing a physical meeting, but one on the astral plane, as one Adept to another.

"I am entirely at your disposal," he said carefully. "Just tell me when and where to seek you out."

"Let's say ten o'clock, in the gazebo," Graham said. "I believe you already know the way through the maze."

As Adam rang off, he reflected that it was perhaps just as well that Ximena was working the evening shift at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, for that meant she was unlikely to be getting home much before half-past eleven. He would have to forego dinner - fasting was a desirable preparation for any form of serious occult endeavor - but Philippa certainly understood that; and Ximena's absence simplified the situation for everyone concerned.

Returning home shortly after six, Adam retired to his room for a shower and change of clothes, then a brief rest until it was time to work. His mind had been restless and unfocused all the way home, turning this way and that in troubled speculation about the nature of the information Graham had promised to impart. He put on his Adept ring before lying down in shirtsleeves and his dressing gown, also pulling a light blanket over himself. Only after putting himself through a short breathing exercise was he able to drift off into a light sleep.

He roused some hours later to the distant chime of the grandfather clock in the downstairs hall. A glance at his bedside clock told him that the appointed hour was fast approaching. Casting aside his blanket, he thrust his stockinged feet into the crested slippers waiting on the floor by the bedside and headed down to the library.

Humphrey had already seen to it that a fire was burning on the hearth and the drapes were tightly drawn. Closing the door behind him, Adam turned the key in the lock, then went over to the house phone on his desk.