The Gospel Makers (16 page)

‘My goodness!’ Nina said, looking round the room. ‘It’s hard to believe it’s the same place!’

‘Yes, they’ve done wonders with it.’

‘Out of the nineteenth century straight into the twenty-first!’

‘Except,’ Daniel said, ‘that there isn’t going to be a twenty-first century.’

Nina’s heart jerked. ‘Then it’s a pity no one told them before they spent all those millions!’ she said flippantly. She turned to look at him. His face was serious but the feverish glitter she’d noticed on Saturday was back in his eyes.

Hey! she thought. Watch your step, girl! ‘You said you had something to tell me.’

‘Yes — great news. You know the Captain’s due this evening? Sarah and Brad have gone to Headquarters to meet him.’

‘I did hear, yes.’

‘Well, he’s actually coming to Shillingham! We heard today that he’s visiting all the UK groups while he’s over, and he’ll be here on Saturday, Nina, at Victoria Drive!’

She found the radiance in his face embarrassing and looked away, grateful for the tray of coffee which had been discreetly placed on the table in front of them. Its fragrant, everyday smell was part of a normal world which didn’t take much notice of prophets and the coming of the Apocalypse. With a shaking hand she poured it and handed a cup to Daniel.

‘And Brad particularly wants you to meet him. Normally, the Captain only sees officials, but you’re so near to joining us and I think Brad hopes it will tip the balance.’

Nina remembered her reactions when the possibility had first been mentioned — her feeling of excitement and awe at the thought of meeting the founder of the Movement. Had it been only last week? Now, she was more ambivalent, not sure she wanted to expose herself to that dangerous, charismatic man.

More importantly, now the DCI was taking an active interest in the group, her conflict of interests had intensified. He should be told of Bellringer’s visit; the trouble was that he’d ordered her not to see them again.

Not exactly, though, she defended herself. He’d said she must drop the investigation, and she had. The suggestion that she shouldn’t go back had been only that, a suggestion. What she did in her own time and in a private capacity was surely no concern of the Chief Inspector.

Daniel said with a smile, ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’

‘I was just wondering if it’s wise for the Captain to move about so openly in view of police interest in the Movement.’ Daniel laughed derisively. ‘The police can’t touch him.’

‘Not unless he breaks the law, no. But —’

‘Not even then.’

She turned to look at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nina, the Captain is the Lord’s appointed servant and answerable only to Him. No man can sit in judgement on him.’

Her mouth was suddenly dry. She forced herself to say lightly, ‘The law might not see it that way.’

‘Don’t worry, my love, he’s in no danger. In the unlikely event that the Devil’s agents move against him, our contingency plans would go into action.’

‘And what are they?’ she asked fearfully.

‘Look, stop worrying, will you? Nothing’s going to happen to the Captain, believe me; that’s all you need to know. Now, pour me another cup of coffee, there’s a love, and let’s change the subject.’

*

Webb, replete with spiced chicken, was nodding over his papers when the doorbell rang, jerking him awake. It was Hannah.

‘I saw the light under your door, or I wouldn’t have rung,’ she said apologetically, noting his bleary eyes. ‘I got your message; sorry I missed dinner, but I hoped I might be in time for coffee and a liqueur.’

‘Excellent idea. What time is it?’

‘After eleven, I’m afraid. I’ve been at a Governors’ Meeting and they tend to drag on.’

‘I’m delighted to see you. I’ve had enough of my own company.’

Hannah sniffed appreciatively in the hallway. ‘Whatever it was, it smells good.’

‘Another time,’ he said, filling the kettle.

She took mugs from the cupboard and watched him prepare the cafetiere — he seldom produced instant coffee; like his disdain of the tin-opener, it was a matter of pride with him.

Webb carried the tray into the living-room, and Hannah noted the pile of papers by his chair. ‘How are things going?’

‘One or two interesting developments,’ he replied, putting a small glass of brandy beside her mug. ‘According to the solicitor, Mrs Kershaw left the bulk of her estate, in the region of quarter of a million, to the Revvies.’

‘Good heavens! And her son?’

‘Zilch. What’s more, he didn’t know the score till the day he died, when he visited the solicitor. It was stipulated in the will he must be told in person.’

‘That must have been an incredible blow.’

‘Yes. Anyway, on the strength of all that I went to beard the Revvies in their den. Come to think of it,’ he added with a grin, ‘one of them is called Daniel, at that!’

‘What are they like?’ Hannah asked curiously, kicking off her shoes.

‘Butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Helpful, friendly, all pals together. Four men and four women living in the house, all “tenants”, I was told.’

‘Were they paired off, or singles?’

‘Hard to be definite, but taking personalities into account, I’d say they’re separate entities. No married couples, at any rate, and I shouldn’t be surprised if one of the men was homosexual.’

‘Were they quite open about their inheritance?’

‘Oh, yes. Furthermore, they made it plain that they’re entitled to it, since they could do more good with it than anyone else — “saving souls”, if you please. Still, we took the opportunity of noting their alibis for Monday lunchtime, which Dawson will start checking in the morning.’

‘Anything promising?’

‘Not really. Honestly, it defeats me, Hannah. A man and woman come quite openly into the hotel bar, collect Kershaw and go off with him, and they might have been invisible for all the notice that was taken of them. I mean, you’d think someone would have remembered them. Mrs French seems to be the only one who saw them at all, and that such a fleeting glimpse that she can’t give any description. They’ve had the devil’s own luck — they could hardly have counted on making so little impression.’

He sipped his brandy reflectively, appreciating the taste on his tongue, the mellow lamplight and Hannah’s shadowed face opposite — the end of a long day. Time to relax, perhaps to make love.

He roused himself to say, ‘What of your invalid?’

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. ‘She was kept in the san over the weekend, but she’s gone home today. She was determined to — John Templeton said that short of chaining her to the bed he’d no choice, though he’s not happy about her.’

‘And the young Revvie recruits?’

‘Under observation, if I may borrow one of your phrases. Nothing else to report.’

‘According to the evening paper, Bellringer’s arrived in this country. That’s all we need.’

‘He’s not an undesirable alien, then?’

‘Not so far, but he, too, will be under a certain amount of observation. Discreet, of course.’

Hannah finished her coffee and put the mug on the table by the chair. ‘I ought to be going.’

‘Do you want to?’

She met his eyes. ‘Now that you mention it, not really.’

‘Excellent. I don’t want you to, either.’

They made love slowly and unhurriedly, delighting in each other and the pleasure given and received. And Webb reflected, as so often on such occasions, how fortunate he was in this relationship, which made no demands and yet was so eminently satisfying. He’d been anxious, he remembered, that Hannah’s acting headship might bring her into more frequent contact with Charles Frobisher. And with a sudden jolt, remembered she had spent the evening with the school governors.

‘How did the meeting go?’ he asked later, as they lay side by side in the darkness, drowsy and at peace.

‘All right. As I said, it dragged on a bit, but things seem to be ticking over all right.’

‘Frobisher there?’ Webb couldn’t refrain from asking.

‘Of course, he’s the chairman.’ She paused then, taking the decision, added lightly, ‘I’m going to the Golf Club Dinner with him on Friday.’

Webb’s stomach knotted apprehensively. ‘Are you indeed?’

‘The Templetons will be with us.’

‘As chaperones?’ he asked nastily, and was grateful that she didn’t reply. He reached contritely for her hand. ‘Sorry.’

‘You don’t have to worry, you know,’ she said gently. ‘I’m fond of Charles as a friend, but that’s all.’

‘It’s not all as far as he’s concerned, as he made quite plain.’

‘That was two years ago; things change.’

‘Some things.’

‘Would you rather I hadn’t told you?’

‘No, but I’d rather you weren’t going. And before you say anything, I know perfectly well that you’re a free agent. It’s just that I like it to be me you’re free with!’

She laughed softly. ‘I was under the impression that I’ve just been exceedingly free with you!’

And she turned to face him as he pulled her back into his arms.

*

Across the town, Nina was also lying awake, though alone. Not that she need have been, if she’d played her cards differently, and it was this fact that kept her tossing and turning as she went over and over the events of the evening.

With hindsight, it would have been better not to have gone, but coffee had seemed innocuous enough. And, her brain reminded her brutally, she’d wanted to see Daniel, which wasn’t innocuous at all.

She had, after all, been fully aware that he was attracted to her, and after two lonely years that was heady enough. Even so, he had taken her completely by surprise when, instead of taking her home, he had driven out to Chedbury Woods and parked under the trees. It was there, she remembered painfully, that she and Ross had done their courting.

Of course she’d protested when she realized they were going in the wrong direction, but he’d merely laughed and continued on his way. Then, as soon as he’d parked, he turned to her with an urgency she wasn’t prepared for and to which, to her despair, she had found herself responding.

For long, breathless minutes time had fused, and in the shadowed car it could have been Ross who was holding her so tightly, whose kisses were becoming increasingly demanding. Then her clamouring body shuddered back to the present and in her head she heard Daniel saying, ‘There isn’t going to be a twenty-first century.’

She’d pushed him away from her, gasping as he continued to kiss her ears and throat. ‘Stop it, Daniel — no!’

‘What do you mean, no? It was very definitely “yes” a minute ago.’

‘I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have —’

‘Why shouldn’t you? We’re both free. You’re surely not trying to tell me you don’t want it?’

Casting round for excuses, she said weakly, ‘I’m sure the Captain wouldn’t approve.’

He laughed. ‘Outside marriage, you mean? Love is a God-given gift, Nina, and as long as it hurts no one, he’s all in favour. After all, it’s love that binds people together — one of the strongest ties there is.’

She resorted to cliché. ‘I’ve been hurt once, I —’

‘I shan’t hurt you, Nina mine. I want to marry you and carry you off to my mountain top.’

Her instinctive recoil told her that the spell was broken and she was free again. She forced herself to say calmly, ‘But we’ve only known each other a few days; it’s much too soon for decisions like that. Now please, Daniel, take me home.’

There was quite a lot of arguing but eventually he’d given in, placated by her promise to think things over.

Which was what she was doing. For the first time in ten days she was thinking rationally about what had taken place and her own part in it. And what appalled her was her gullibility, especially when she’d been only too aware of the dangers. Thinking herself immune, she had blundered on, meeting the leaders socially, allowing Daniel to take his first, tentative kisses.

Hot with shame, she recalled her resentment when the DCI had expressed his suspicions — suspicions, moreover, which she herself had implanted. Was it all down to Daniel’s blue eyes, or had some diluted effect of sublimination blurred her judgement? A combination, probably, since that was how they worked, appealing to the basic need to be loved, to be singled out as special. Her ego, bruised when Ross left her, had been soothed and flattered by the welcome she’d received — as, no doubt, had those of all the other ‘converts’.

Whatever the reason, she had behaved less than professionally, and she bitterly regretted it. It was now up to her to repair the damage as best she could, and the first thing she must do was tell Webb of Bellringer’s imminent arrival.

The fact that it was the name ‘Bellringer’ that came to her and not ‘the Captain’ was the final proof, were it still needed, that she had emerged on the other side of the experience. It was now up to her to rescue the others.

Chapter 13

‘You’re telling me that, despite my orders, you’ve continued to associate with them?’

The grey eyes were like gimlets. Nina held their gaze, though her face flamed. ‘Only in a private capacity, sir. You told me to drop the investigation, and I did.’

‘I was more specific than that, Inspector, chiefly for your own sake. You could have been in grave danger.’

‘I realize that now, sir.’

For a moment longer he regarded her in silence, then he leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, since you appear to be still in one piece, what have you to report in your “private capacity”?’

‘Bellringer’s coming to Shillingham, sir. On Saturday.’

Webb groaned. ‘As if we haven’t enough on our plate. To address a meeting?’

‘No, only to see his followers. But they’ve invited me to go along.’ She didn’t meet his eyes.

‘You are flavour of the month. You appreciate that now you’ve told me, I can stop you going?’

‘I hope you won’t, sir. It could be a useful exercise.’

‘I have the suspicion, Nina, that you didn’t escape quite as unscathed as you’d have me believe. If you go back again, you might fall right into their trap.’

‘I’ve been inoculated now, sir. Really.’

‘They’ve no suspicion you’re in the police?’

‘None.’

‘Well, if you think you can help us put a spoke in their wheel … Did you hear they’ve inherited Mrs Kershaw’s estate?’

‘Yes, Daniel Stacey told me.’

‘They’ve also ensnared a couple of schoolgirls from Ashbourne. Some cassettes and pamphlets came into our possession, and they’re pretty powerful stuff.’

‘I saw the girls my first evening, but I couldn’t do anything without giving myself away.’

Webb tapped his desk with his pen. ‘What worries me about that crowd is that while they seem harmless enough, they’re like “sleepers”, leading ordinary, blameless lives till they get the call to action. Then, believe me, they can become lethal. I’ve seen it happen.’

She said quietly, ‘I know; they think they’re above the law and can evade it if necessary. And I’m quite sure they’d die for Bellringer, without thinking twice.’

‘Exactly. And I don’t want you dying with them.’

She smiled slightly. ‘There’s not much chance of that. I’ve behaved stupidly, sir, not taking sufficient account of what I was doing. I’m sorry. I promise that it won’t happen again.’

‘Very well; if you really want to go on Saturday, you have my permission. But for God’s sake, be careful.’

*

It was at the pedestrian crossing in King Street that Christina saw her, a young woman in a fitted grey coat, pushing a pram. She watched without interest as she crossed in front of the car, but suddenly the woman’s profile and the way she held her head tweaked at her memory. Surely there was something familiar about her?

Christina frowned, trying to remember. Who was she? Where had she seen her before? Somewhere, she felt certain. The memory tantalized her, and she stared after the young woman as she continued along the pavement, until an impatient toot from behind recalled her to her surroundings and she reluctantly moved on.

Probably a client, or someone she’d met at a party. Yet she had the odd feeling she’d never actually spoken to the girl. No doubt it would come back to her, she told herself and, seeing an empty parking meter, slid thankfully into it and gathered her swatches together for her next call.

*

At break that morning, Mattie sent for Stephanie and Marina on the pretext of handing over some set books. She was trembling as she waited for them to arrive. It had taken several hours of a sleepless night to steel herself for such a meeting and only terror at the thought of the Prelate’s displeasure had finally goaded her into it.

Although expecting them, she jumped when they tapped on the open door.

‘Good morning, Miss Hendrix,’ they chorused dutifully.

‘Come in and close the door. Now, I’ve managed to get you some cassettes. They’re a little more advanced than those you had, but all the Initiate ones are out on loan.’

She paused, surveying their eager faces, and forced herself to add, ‘Have you any questions or difficulties you’d like to discuss?’

‘We just wish we could get to the meetings,’ Stephanie said. ‘It’s a pain having to miss them everyone else will be ahead of us.’

‘Not everyone, a lot of people can’t get there. That’s why we have the tapes, so you can keep up.’

She hesitated again. ‘Has Miss James said anything more to you?’

They shook their heads.

‘We’ll just have to hope it’s blown over, then. But be very careful with these new tapes; if you’re caught with them, you’d have to explain where you got them.’

Marina said curiously, ‘Doesn’t anyone here know you’re a Revelationist, Miss Hendrix?’

‘No one.’

‘I should have thought you’d want to tell everyone and get them to join, too.’

Out of the mouths of babes … Mattie smiled stiffly, repeating the excuse she had made to Brad. ‘I should, I know, but I find it hard to speak of things that matter deeply to me.

They nodded with apparent understanding and she felt a surge of affection for them. ‘Have you heard the Captain’s coming to Shillingham on Saturday?’ she asked on impulse.

‘Coming here? The Captain?’

‘That’s right, to Victoria Drive.’

‘And you’ll actually meet him?’

‘I very much hope so.’ Did she? When he might well denounce her and take away her chance of salvation?

‘Oh, please let us come!’ Stephanie begged.

Mattie was startled. ‘You know that’s not possible.’

‘But if you gave us permission —’

What had she started? Mattie thought, panic-stricken. Whatever had possessed her to mention the visit?

‘Now that’s enough. Off you go to break, and take good care of those tapes.’

As they left the room she bowed her head and waited with closed eyes for her agitation to subside sufficiently for her to continue with her timetable.

*

The following morning, Webb received a summons to Constabulary Headquarters at Stonebridge. He’d been expecting it.

‘Sit down, Spider.’

The nickname had been invented years ago by an old lag and taken up by Webb’s colleagues until he’d made clear his dislike of it. It was no longer used in his hearing except by the Chief Super, with whom he could scarcely argue and who invariably addressed him by it.

‘Now —’ Fleming cocked his head on one side as was his wont. ‘Fill me in on what’s happening with this hotel murder.’

‘We’re going full out on it, sir,’ Webb replied, ‘but no definite lead has emerged as yet.’

Fleming pulled at his lower lip. ‘The deceased was resident in France, I believe. Does that narrow the field, or widen it?’

‘We’ve been unable to establish any feuds or resentments over there. He gambled, but always paid his debts and was respected in his home area.’

‘Happily married?’

‘It would seem so.’

‘Right, well, talk me through the case, will you?’

Webb did so, sketching in the Revvie connection when he came to it with some apprehension. It was not misplaced. Fleming interrupted him at once.

‘Who exactly are these johnnies?’

‘One of the New Age religions, sir. They believe there’s going to be a second Flood and they’ll be the only ones to survive it.’

‘And the victim’s mother believed all that tosh?’

‘They’re pretty convincing, sir.’

Fleming snorted, waving a vague hand. ‘Carry on, then.’ This time Webb was allowed to proceed without interruption until he had completed his account.

‘And this mysterious couple haven’t resurfaced?’

‘No, sir. It’s amazing how completely they’ve vanished from the scene.’

‘There’s no clue at all as to who they might be?’

‘None. As far as we’re aware, Kershaw knew no one in the area. We checked with the Revelationists, on the slim chance that he might have met them, but their alibis have been checked and seem to tally. In any case, since they’d got their hands on his inheritance it was Kershaw who had the motive, not the other way round.’

Fleming nodded gloomily. ‘Well, don’t drag your feet on this one,’ he said in dismissal. ‘Top brass are getting restive; they’re looking for a quick result.’

Then perhaps, Webb thought acidly as he took his leave, they’d be good enough to tell him how to achieve it.

*

‘I don’t know what’s got into Miss Dilys,’ Peggy Davis commented to her husband when she returned to the kitchen with her employer’s supper dishes.

‘She’s sitting at the table staring into space, and her plate scarcely touched.’

‘Well, she’s in the middle of a book, isn’t she?’ Bob returned without looking up from the racing results. From long experience, that simple fact explained a multitude of things.

‘But she’s not getting on with it, is she? She just moons about looking out of the window and wandering round the room. I’ve seen her from the garden, when I’ve been hanging out the washing. As for that writer’s block, as she calls it, when she went to the library on Monday I thought she was over it.’

‘It’s my opinion the nanny and baby are unsettling her,’ Bob pronounced, relighting his pipe. His wife paused in her act of scraping the uneaten food into the bin.

‘You might be right, at that. There’s no doubt she’s taken against Nanny Sarah for some reason. I can’t think why; she’s quiet enough, goodness knows, not a bit of trouble. And Seb’s an angelic baby. I wasn’t looking forward to them coming, that I do admit, but I’ll be quite sorry when they go.’

‘Well, I reckon Miss Dilys won’t, and no more will I. Might have a bit of peace in the evenings, without you jumping up and down like a shuttlecock to check on the baby because that girl’s out again. Hardly ever in, if you ask me. I reckon you should be getting a quarter of her wages, minding it nearly every night.’

‘Go on with you!’ Peggy said, but she smiled shamefacedly and added after a moment, ‘You don’t really mind, do you, Bob? Me being a bit taken up with the baby?’

He reached up and caught her hand as she passed. ‘Lord love you no, that was only my fun. If you want to spend your time gurgling and cooing over the young ‘un, you go straight ahead, girl! No skin off my nose.’ And, giving her hand a little squeeze, he returned to his paper.

Christina said suddenly into the darkness, ‘I know who she was!’

Edward stirred sleepily. ‘What?’

‘The woman I saw in King Street yesterday. It’s been niggling at me ever since. She’s the one who was with that man at the King’s Head.’

Edward came fully awake. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive. I should have realized before.’

‘It could be important, then.’

‘Yes; I’ll ring the police in the morning.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘What’s happening to us, Edward? First the murder, and now these awful people turning Stephie against us.’

He slid an arm under her shoulders and drew her close. ‘It’s just a bad spell we’re going through, sweetheart. We’ll come through it all right, as long as we have each other.’

But for the first time he wondered uneasily if that was, after all, quite enough.

*

The phone sounded and Webb reached for it, glad of the interruption.

‘Chief Inspector? It’s Christina French. I thought you’d like to know that I saw that woman on Tuesday — the one who left the bar with the man who was murdered.’

Webb tensed, leaning forward. ‘On Tuesday?’ he repeated sharply. Two days ago; why the hell —?

‘Yes; I’m sorry for the delay, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen her. It only came to me in bed last night.’

‘Go on, Mrs French.’

‘Well, that’s it, really.’ She sounded slightly deflated. ‘She crossed the road immediately in front of me, pushing a pram.’

‘You’re sure it’s the same woman?’

‘Positive. I recognized her at once, though as I said, it took me some time to place her.’

‘Can you describe her for me?’

‘Early to mid-thirties, quite tall, straight figure, wearing a tailored grey coat. No hat. Mid-brown hair, caught back with a tortoiseshell clip. Pale face. That’s about it.’

‘Excellent. I wish all witnesses were as precise. And the pram?’

‘One of the high, old-fashioned kind Silver Cross, I think. White, with a black hood.’

‘Could you see the baby?’

‘I was concentrating on the woman, but it must have been several months old, because it was sitting up.’

‘And where exactly was this?’

‘At the pedestrian crossing in King Street.’

‘Which way was she walking?’

‘Towards Westgate.’

‘The time?’

‘Just before ten-thirty; I was on my way to an appointment.’

‘Well, that’s very good news. The size of the pram seems to indicate that she’s local — she couldn’t have come in a car, for instance. No sign of the man waiting further up the road?’