Death of an Adept

Mallory preened slightly at the compliment, already aware of his brief to examine Taliere after the meeting was concluded. Ambitious, and apparently without moral scruples, he had begun his career with the Lodge of the Lynx while still an intern, augmenting his burgeoning medical expertise with impressive psychic ability as his competence in both disciplines progressed. Now a qualified anaesthetist, he had recently secured a residency at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, which listed Dr. Adam Sinclair among its senior psychiatric consultants. Mallory's promotion to Raeburn's inner circle, replacing another physician who had failed in his duties, not only restored that facet of functioning to the Lodge of the Lynx, but Mallory's particular situation gave him an ideal opportunity to keep an eye on Sinclair's movements and interests.

Richter was the first person called upon to report. An attentive silence reigned as he delivered an updated account of what his surveillance agents had observed in the course of the two days since Adam Sinclair's departure from Scotland.

"My operatives in the States have been able to confirm that Sinclair is in Houston, attending a medical symposium. Of the nine telephone calls that have gone out from his hotel room, five have been directed to a number in San Francisco, which is listed to a Dr. X. Lockhart. A computer search of Dr. Lock-hart's personal records identifies her as the physician who attended Sinclair two years ago, and with whom he has since formed a romantic liaison. All the evidence so far accumulated suggests that he intends to remain in the United States for the duration of the Christmas holidays. This leaves us free to concentrate our attentions on his known associates."

From the black leather briefcase he had brought with him Richter produced a selection of black-and-white photos. The first set of pictures to be circulated showed a head-and-shoulders shot of a grizzle-haired man whose craggy features were offset by a bristling military moustache and a pair of metal-rimmed aviator spectacles.

"This man, as most of you will know, is Detective Chief Inspector Noel Gordon McLeod, of the Lothian and Borders Police," Richter noted coolly. "Though it is never officially acknowledged in police circles, he is the officer always detailed to deal with cases involving any esoteric or occult element. He is particularly adroit at misdirecting the attentions of the press - for which we can be as grateful as our opposite numbers."

As Taliere slowly nodded, Richter continued.

"Besides being a Master Mason, McLeod is also known to be a member of the Hunting Lodge. There is strong evidence to suggest that he ranks as Sinclair's second-in-command. So far, all his recent movements have been routine and accountable, but my operatives will be alert for any changes. His near dependents - if I may refer you to the other photos you have before you - include his wife, Jane Ellen, and one daughter, Kate Elizabeth, who is in her fourth year of studies at the University of Aberdeen. We are keeping all three of these subjects under surveillance, and will continue to do so until further notice."

The next photograph to be circulated was that of a much younger man, also bespectacled, but fair-haired and clean- shaven, with features that might have been chiselled by Delia Robbia.

"This man is Peregrine Andrew Lovat, a portrait artist whose reputation has soared since he was first taken under Sinclair's patronage about two years ago. The full spectrum of his talents has yet to be determined, but it would seem that his artistic abilities are augmented by some form of extrasensory perception that allows him to see and record resonances of the past. He has been significantly involved in a number of police investigations in which Sinclair and McLeod have likewise been factors. There can be little doubt that he is a Huntsman, and since the visionary nature of his talents makes him a particular danger to us, we shall be watching him very closely, indeed.

"His wife's involvement is, at present, unknown," Richter went on, tossing out a fifth set of photos. "They were only married last spring, but Sinclair seems to have introduced them, or at least encouraged the match. Her name is Julia."

"Very nice," Mallory murmured, allowing himself a broad grin as he scanned up and down a publicity photo of Julia posed beside one of her harps. "Any time your people get tired of watching her, I'd be delighted to lend a hand."

"Sadly for you. Doctor, your talents are likely to be required elsewhere," Raeburn said, on a crisp note that wiped the smile from the younger man's face. "Mr. Richter, I think we've spent enough time acquainting Master Taliere with the principal opposition players. With Sinclair temporarily out of the picture, I don't think we need worry overmuch about the others.