Death of an Adept

"Noel, it's Adam," he said, quickly framing a message in suitably ambiguous terms, in case Jane picked up his messages. "I expect you've already gone to bed, so I'll make this short. I've just spent the evening going through McFarlane's dream diary, and I've come up with some important leads. I'm confident he's alive, and I don't think anything will go critical for McFarlane himself until after the weekend, but there's a special witness I want to talk to - and I'll need your help to do that.

"I'd like to meet up tomorrow and discuss the case in person. I've got to stop in at the hospital for an hour in the morning, and then I've promised Ximena we'll have lunch, but we have to drive over to Portobello in the afternoon to pick up our rings from the engraver. We'll swing by your office when we're finished, and Humphrey can take Ximena on home. Please ring Humphrey and leave a message if you can't make it. See you then."

When he had cradled the receiver, he mentally reviewed what he had said, hoping it had not sounded too lame or too obscure. He closed McFarlane's journal and put it back into his briefcase before going upstairs to bed, his mind already hard at work continuing to examine what he had learned. He had fallen asleep by the time Ximena came home and snuggled into bed beside him, and he woke several times during the night, disturbed by dreams he could not recall.

Chapter Thirty

ADAM woke the next morning with the previous night's revelations still heavy on his mind, but he did his best to maintain a cheery facade over breakfast with Ximena. With their wedding celebration now but a week away, and today the first full day the two of them had been able to spend together for most of the previous week, he was determined not to dampen the day's pleasures by interjecting any reminders of the past week's stresses. Lightly brushing off Ximena's inquiry about his progress with McFarlane's dream journal, he made casual admission that he had, indeed, found a few items of interest and planned to stop by McLeod's office briefly on their way home to pass on the information, but he would not let himself be drawn further.

It was not that Adam doubted her ability to cope with at least a superficial explanation of what was taking shape. In light of their recent experiences with the Hand of Glory, he knew Ximena was unlikely to question Raeburn's potential to wreak material havoc through supernatural means. At the same time, until he had consulted with his Second and engaged his help in communicating directly with the spirit of Andrew Kerr, there seemed little point in revealing the seriousness of Raeburn's threat until he had some idea how to deal with it. The knowledge that Imbolc was the first likely target date for Rae-burn to act lent further justification for keeping silent.

They set out for the city shortly after nine o'clock, with Humphrey at the wheel of the Bentley and McFarlane's journal locked in the boot in Adam's briefcase. Then, while Adam stopped in at the hospital for a scheduled consultation with a senior staff member, Humphrey escorted Ximena on into the city center to do some shopping in Prince's Street.

They rendezvoused for an intimate lunch at the Caledonian. Only when Ximena shrugged off her coat did Adam realize she was dressed in the same cream ensemble she had worn on Christmas Eve, a touching reminder of the commitment they had made and would be affirming publicly in only a week's time - and an indication of his own preoccupation that he had not noticed earlier. Lingering over a fine meal and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, her hand in his, he made a special effort to set aside the tension of the past week and more, if only for a few hours.

The moment lingered as Humphrey drove them to their appointment with the engraver, a colleague of Lady Julian's who maintained a small studio and art gallery in Portobello, a quiet suburb to the east of the city itself. Though Julian herself had designed and fashioned their wedding rings, she lacked the equipment needed to do the very fine engraving required for the insides of the bands. There were no parking spaces on the road in front of the gallery, so Humphrey was obliged to pull the Bentley into a restricted zone around the corner on an adjoining side street.

"You'd better wait here with the car, just in case there's a traffic warden prowling around," Adam told Humphrey. "We shouldn't be very long."

The proprietor was expecting them, and had the rings ready for their inspection. The style Ximena had chosen for the inscription was a delicate copperplate match for the one used on the wedding invitations.

"Very nice indeed," Adam said to the engraver. "I must thank Lady Julian for referring us to you."