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‘I know how Lennox looks when he lies,’ Duff said. ‘And he knows I know.’

‘But can you persuade him to reveal his cooperation and thus...?’

‘Yes,’ Duff said.

‘Don’t persuade him the way you did the Norse Rider patient, Duff.’

‘That was a different person who did that, sir. I’m not him any more.’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘No, sir.’

Malcolm held Duff’s gaze for a few seconds. ‘Good. Tourtell, could you please take Duff?’

‘Out of curiosity,’ Duff said when he and Tourtell had got some way down the corridor, ‘when Macbeth gave you his ultimatum why didn’t you tell him Kasi was your son?’

Tourtell shrugged. ‘Why tell the person pointing a gun at you it isn’t loaded? They’ll only start looking around for another weapon.’

The doctor was waiting for them outside a closed door. He opened it.

‘Just him,’ Tourtell said, pointing to Duff.

Duff stepped inside.

Lennox was as white as the sheets he was lying between. Tubes and wires led from his body to drip bags on a stand and machines emitting beeps. He looked like a surprised child, staring up at Duff with wide-open eyes and mouth. Duff took his hat and glasses off.

Lennox blinked.

‘We need you to go public and say Macbeth is behind this,’ Duff said. ‘Are you willing to do that?’

Thin, shiny saliva ran from one corner of Lennox’s mouth.

‘Listen, Lennox. I’ve got two minutes, and—’

‘Macbeth’s behind this,’ Lennox said. His voice was hoarse, husky, as though he had aged twenty years. But his eyes cleared. ‘He ordered Seyton, Olafson and me to execute Tourtell. Because he wanted to take over the reins of the town. And because he thinks Tourtell is Hecate’s informant. But he isn’t.’

‘So who is the informant?’

‘I’ll tell you if you do me a favour.’

Duff breathed hard through his nose. Concentrated on controlling his speech. ‘You mean I might have to owe you a favour?’

Lennox closed his eyes again. Duff saw a tear forced out. Pain from his wound, Duff assumed.

‘No,’ Lennox whispered in a fading voice.

Duff leaned forward. There was a nauseous, sweet smell coming from Lennox’s mouth, like the acetone breath of a diabetic, as he whispered, ‘I’m Hecate’s informant.’

‘You?’ Duff tried to digest the information, tried to make it fit.

‘Yes. How do you think Hecate slipped through our fingers all these years, how he was always a step ahead?’

‘You’re a spy for both—’

‘—Hecate and Macbeth. Without Macbeth knowing. But that’s how I know Tourtell’s not in Hecate’s pocket. Or Macbeth’s. But it wasn’t me who warned Hecate, so there must be another informant as well. Someone close to Macbeth.’

‘Seyton?’

‘Maybe. Or perhaps not a man.’

‘A woman? Why do you think that?’

‘I don’t know. Something invisible, something that’s just there.’

Duff nodded slowly. Raised his eyes and looked into the darkness outside the window.

‘How does it feel?’

‘How does what feel?’

‘To say it out loud finally. That you’re a traitor. Is it a relief or does it weigh more heavily on you when the words make you realise it’s true, the damage is your fault?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Because I was wondering about it myself,’ Duff said. The sky outside was dark, covered, giving no answer or sign. ‘How it would feel to tell my family everything.’

‘But you didn’t,’ Lennox said. ‘We don’t. Because we’d rather destroy ourselves than see the pain in their faces. But you didn’t have the chance to choose.’

‘Yes, I did. I chose. Every day. To be unfaithful.’

‘Will you help me, Duff?’

Duff was torn out of his thoughts. Blinked. He needed to sleep soon. ‘Help?’

‘A favour. The pillow. Put it over my face and hold it there. It’ll look as if I died of my wounds. And will you tell my children that their father, murderer and traitor that he was, repented?’

‘I...’

‘You’re the only person I know who might understand me, Duff. That you can love someone so much and still betray them. And when it’s too late, it’s too late. All you can do is... what is right, but it’s too late.’

‘Like saving the life of the mayor.’

‘But that isn’t enough, is it, Duff?’ Lennox’s dry laughter turned into a bout of coughing. ‘A last desperate act which, seen from the outside, is a sacrifice, but which deep down you hope will be rewarded with the forgiveness of your sins and the opening of heaven’s gates. But that’s too much, Duff. You don’t think you can ever make amends for everything, do you.’

‘No,’ Duff said. ‘No, I can’t make amends. But I can start by forgiving you.’

‘No!’ Lennox said.

‘Yes.’

‘No, you can’t! Don’t do that, don’t...’ His voice crumbled away. Duff looked at him. Small shiny tears rolled down his white cheeks.

Duff took a deep breath. ‘I’ll consider not forgiving you on one condition, Lennox.’

Lennox nodded.

‘That you agree to give a radio interview this evening in which you tell everything and clear Malcolm.’

Lennox raised a hand with difficulty and wiped his cheeks. Then he placed his tear-wet hand round Duff’s wrist. ‘Ring Priscilla and ask her to come here.’

Duff nodded, got up and freed his wrist. Looked down at Lennox for a last time. Wondering if he saw a man who had changed or was just taking the easiest way out.

‘Well?’ Tourtell said, getting up from a chair against the corridor wall when Duff came out.

‘He’s confirmed that Macbeth was trying to kill you and he’ll do the interview,’ Duff said. ‘But Hecate has an informant, an infiltrator close to Macbeth. It could be anyone at police HQ...’

‘Anyway,’ Tourtell boomed as they hurried down the corridor, ‘with Lennox’s statement Macbeth’s finished! I’ll ring Capitol and have a federal arrest warrant issued.’

A nurse came towards them. ‘Mr Mayor, sir?’

‘Yes?’

‘We’ve had a call from Agnes, your maid. She says Kasi still hasn’t come home.’

‘Thank you,’ Tourtell said. They continued walking. ‘You’ll see, he’s gone to some friends and is waiting until the coast is clear.’

‘Probably,’ Duff said. ‘Your maid...’

‘Yes?’

‘I’ve never had servants, but I assume that after a while they become part of the furniture. You speak freely and don’t think they’ll repeat stuff that shouldn’t go beyond your four walls, isn’t that right?’

‘Agnes? Yes. Yes, at least when I was sure I could trust her. But that took time.’

‘And yet you can never know for sure what another person thinks and feels, can you?’

‘Hm. You’re wondering if Macbeth has a personal secretary at HQ who might...’

‘Priscilla?’ Duff said. ‘Well, as you said, it takes time to trust someone.’

‘And?’

‘You said you played blackjack in a private room as Macbeth and Lady made plans to kill Hecate. But doesn’t it need a fourth person?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Blackjack. Don’t you need a croupier?’

‘Jack?’

‘Yes, Lady?’ Jack took his hand away. It had been casually placed on Billy’s arched back as the two of them stood over the guestbook and Jack had explained how new customers should be entered.

‘I have to talk to you about something, Jack. Let’s go upstairs.’

‘Of course. Will you hold the fort, Billy?’

‘I’ll do my best, Mr Bonus.’