Revelation

I thought Harsnet would burst out angrily but the compassionate look remained on his face. He sighed heavily. 'I see you believe what you say, Matthew. And I can see things from your point of view. Believe me, I do not like the things I sometimes have to do, like the way I had to conduct that inquest.' The tic fluttered again on his cheek, twice. 'I prayed hard that day. And I believe that God answered me, confirmed that I must keep the truth of poor Elliard's death secret. I never act without praying, and God answers, and then I know that I have taken the right path.' He smiled. 'And in the end I answer to him, not to mortal men.' He looked at me with passionate seriousness. 'I too doubted when I was young, I think we all doubt then. But one day when I was praying for enlightenment I felt God came to me and it was as if I wakened from a dream. God's love for me was clear, as though my mind had been washed clean.' He spoke with passion.

'I thought I felt the same, once,' I said sadly.

'But it was not enough?'

'No.'

Harsnet smiled. 'Perhaps that time will come again. After this horror is over.' He hesitated, the shyness showing through again. 'I would like to be your friend, Matthew,' he said. 'I am a loyal friend.'

I smiled. 'Even to Laodiceans?'

'Even so.'

I shook his hand. And I wondered whether at the end of this trail of horror, I would regain my faith, or he would lose his.

Chapter Twenty-nine

IT WAS DARK when I rode back along the Strand, weary after the long day, past the houses of the wealthy that lined the road from Westminster to London. Gentle yellow candlelight flickered in their windows, lighting the road dimly. There were few people about after the London curfew, but as always these days I was watchful.

The air was still mild, but damp, and looking up at the sky I saw the stars were hidden by cloud. We were going to have rain. The stitches on my arm pulled painfully. Tomorrow if time allowed I would go and see Guy and ask when I might have them out. I wanted to talk to him again too, about Adam Kite and about what sort of creature the killer might be. The conversation with Harsnet had remained in my mind; I did not believe the killer was possessed, but was unsure that I really had any better idea what he was. And I did not know when he might strike again, or where.

When I entered the house Harsnet's man Orr was sitting in the hall, reading a Testament.

'All quiet, Philip?' I asked him.

'Yes, sir. I walked up and down the street a few times, made myself seen. Just the normal traffic. A lot of legal men, a pedlar with his cart crying his wares most of the morning.'

'He's a long way out. I shouldn't think he'd get much passing trade here.'

'So many workless men have gone for pedlars these days, they are getting everywhere.'

'True.' I passed inside, glad Orr was there. I liked his solid conscientiousness. His presence would be a deterrent if our dreadful visitor thought of doing more damage to us.

Inside, all was quiet. I headed for the stairs, then paused on the bottom step as I heard something faintly from behind the closed kitchen door. A woman crying. I walked quietly across and opened the door.

Tamasin was sitting at the table, weeping. A hard, wrenching sound, full of deep misery. Joan was sitting beside her, an arm round her shoulders. Looking past them to the window I saw the two boys, Peter and Timothy, standing outside in the yard, their noses pressed against the pane. I gestured at them and they turned and fled.

'What has happened?' I asked.

Tamasin raised her head and looked at me. Her bruises were almost gone, but her face was red and streaked with tears. I realized it was a long time since I had seen it looking normal.

'It is nothing,' she said.

'Of course it is something.' I heard the impatience in my voice.

'Just a disagreement between her and Jack,' Joan said.

'He came back drunk an hour ago,' Tamasin said bleakly. 'Crashed into our room and gave me foul language for reply when I asked him what was wrong. I will not stand for much more of this,' she said with sudden fierceness.

I frowned. 'Then I will see him. I will not have him drunk in this house.'

I left the room and went upstairs, angry with Barak, and myself too. I had offered to help her, yet had achieved nothing.

I found Barak in his room, sitting on a stool by the bed. When he looked up his face was red, too, but with drink. 'Don't you start,' he said.

'I'll start where I like in my own house. Is this how you keep your promise to make things up with Tamasin?'

'None of your business,' he muttered.

'It is my business if you upset her. Where have you been?'

'Drinking with some old mates. In town.'

'You never used to get drunk like this. Why now? Still because of the lost child?' I added more gently. He did not reply. 'Well?'

'I am sick of this business,' he said. 'Sick to the heart, if you must know. He could strike again tonight. We have nothing, nothing but bits and pieces of information.'