‘He’s in Heraklion,’ replied the Director. ‘He couldn’t get here until late afternoon tomorrow at best.’ She looked at Cadbury and Deidre. ‘We’ll have to keep you in custody until then.’
‘I don’t think that I, nor my young colleague,’ Cadbury nodded at Deidre, ‘would be at all happy about that.’ The news of the three deaths in the market had obviously not yet reached the Priory. Once it did they were cooked: there would be no explaining away those deaths as well as the Trevors. He started to consider their chances of cutting their way out of the Priory.
‘They can stay with me in my room,’ said Cale. ‘The windows are barred and you can put as many guards outside as you like. I think that’s fair.’
The Director had the sense to be unnerved by the prospect of actually arresting Cadbury and the weird young woman – if that was what it was. ‘I give you my word,’ said Cale, something that meant absolutely nothing but which, he noted, seemed to satisfy many people. But wanting the easiest outcome persuaded the Director. She turned to the most senior of the guards.
‘Show them to Mr Cale’s room. You and all of your men remain outside until I have you relieved.’ She turned to Sister Wray. ‘I’d like to talk to you in private.’
Five minutes later the three of them had been delivered to Cale’s room and the door locked. Before the key had turned Cadbury was checking the impressive looking bars on the window. He turned to Cale.
‘And we’re better off here because?’
‘Because I don’t care to have bars on the window if I can do anything about it.’ Cale took a shiv from the drawer in the single desk and started stabbing at the wall. It crumbled surprisingly easily, because it was made of gravel and dust stuck together with soap, to reveal a metal stud, the anchor to bars that looped through the wall under the window itself. ‘I’ve been loosening them off for a while. You can be out in ten minutes.’
‘How far down is it?’
‘About three feet. They haven’t kept dangerous head-bangers in here for years. The bars look impressive but inside the wall it’s mostly rust.’
‘Not bad,’ said Cadbury. ‘Forgive me for doubting you but one of my greatest faults is lack of trust.’ He looked over at Deidre. ‘Got any soap?’
It took Cadbury nearly half an hour of sullenly endured scrubbing to rid Deidre’s face of the greasepaint while Cale dug away at the already weakened wall. What gradually emerged from the soap and water was a more familiar Deidre – pale, thin-lipped but still mad-eyed. They put her in one of Cale’s suits; it was baggy, with the trousers held up by a belt that they had to cut out an extra notch a good six inches further on.
During the ten minutes more it took to remove the bars, Cale mined Cadbury for information about the Two Trevors. ‘I can’t be sure it was the Redeemers who sent them but for years they operated out of Redeemer territory for a price: if you want a peaceful retirement under our protection do what we ask when we ask it.’
‘There are other people who don’t care for me,’ said Cale.
‘Not who could get to the Two Trevors or afford them if they could. It was the Redeemers.’
‘You can’t be certain.’
‘Certain. No.’
‘If they were so wonderful, how come a little girl killed them?’
‘She’s not a little girl and the Trevors got unlucky. One job too far.’
‘The thing about your friend …’
‘She’s not my friend.’
‘… is she looks sort of familiar.’
Cadbury changed the subject.
‘You might want to think about coming with us.’
‘Me? I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘I don’t think the old dear who runs this place will think that.’
‘I’m not worried about her.’
‘You can’t stay here. They won’t stop.’
‘I know the Redeemers a lot better than you do. I’ll have to have a think.’
‘Got a message for Kitty?’
Cale laughed. ‘Tell him I’m grateful. And to you, and your mad friend.’
‘I told you, she’s not my friend, and I’m not sure Kitty is looking for gratitude exactly. You might be safer in Leeds than anywhere else.’
‘P’raps I’ll look you both up next time I’m there.’
And that was that.
Next morning the Director arrived with Sister Wray and flew into an almighty rage. ‘They overpowered me,’ said Cale, and that was all. There was much shouting and a good deal of personal abuse, and even more when it became clear that the two fugitives had been responsible for three further deaths, all of which had to be explained to the magistrate from Heraklion. They locked Cale up for three days, but as he had patently had nothing to do with the murders in the town and, as Sister Wray pointed out with considerable force, he’d been the intended victim in the cloisters, they were forced to let him go. The Director gave Cale one week’s notice to leave on the entirely justifiable grounds that he posed a serious risk to everyone at the Priory.
‘To be honest,’ he said to Sister Wray, ‘I was a bit surprised she gave me as long as that. I should thank you, no?’
‘I thought it was only fair,’ she said. ‘Where will you go? Don’t tell me.’
He laughed at the change of direction. ‘Not sure. I could go north but I hear it’s grim up there. Besides, Bosco won’t leave me alone wherever I go. Probably Cadbury was right, I’m safer in Spanish Leeds than wandering about in the bundu.’
‘I don’t know what a bundu is but you’re not well enough to be on your own – or anything like it.’
‘Then it’s settled. Leeds it is.’
‘Can I ask you to promise me one thing?’
‘You can ask.’
‘Stay away from that Kitty the Hare person.’
‘Easier said than done. I need money and power and Kitty has both.’
‘IdrisPukke cares for you – stick with him.’
‘He doesn’t have money or power. And he has his own problems.’
There was a moment’s silence. Sister Wray went over to a cupboard in which there were many small drawers and opened two of them before placing two packets on the table, one sizeable, the other small.
‘This is Tipton’s Weed.’ She opened the packet and poured a tiny amount into the palm of her hand. ‘Use this much in a cup of boiling water, let it cool and drink it every day at the same time. You’ll be able to get it from any herbalist in Spanish Leeds but they will call it Singen’s Wort or Chase-Devil.’
‘What’s it for?’
‘It helps to chase away the devil. It will help you feel better – even things out. If you start to feel dizzy or sensitive to the light cut down the dose till it stops. It’s good for wounds as well.’
She tapped the other packet twice. ‘This is Phedra and Morphine. I’ve thought more than twice about giving you this.’ She opened the packet and tipped a tiny amount of green and white speckled powder onto the table then, picking up a small knife, separated enough to cover a fingernail. ‘Take this when you’re desperate. As desperate as you were the other night, not otherwise. It will give you strength for a few hours. But it builds up in the body so if you take it for more than a few weeks what you’ve suffered over the last few months will feel like a minor inconvenience. Do you understand?’
‘I’m not stupid.’
‘No. But the time is coming, I guess, when it may seem the lesser of two evils. Take it for more than three weeks in all – I mean twenty doses – and you’ll find out it probably isn’t.’
‘Take it all now,’ said Poll. ‘Put yourself and the rest of the world out of its misery.’
Telling Poll to keep quiet, Sister Wray took Cale through the boiling up of the Tipton’s and made him count out the Phedra and Morphine into twenty lots so he could see how little he could take. There was a knock at the door. ‘Come in.’ One of the Priory servants entered.
‘Please, Sister,’ said the girl, clearly excited. ‘A beautiful woman in a carriage is asking for Thomas Cale. She has soldiers and servants dressed a la mode and with white horses. The Director says he’s to come at once.’