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All that life, all that crackling energy snuffed out
and broken. My mind began to unravel.
 Fox, I said into the night,  you idiot. I wanted
to howl like a wounded wolf, I wanted to tear down
the sky and shatter the moon, I wanted to rip out
Wendlow s guts and make him eat them -
I wanted Fox to be alive again.
* * *
By dawn the temperature had risen enough to
clear the frost and bring the rain. I hadn t moved,
couldn t move. He d been here, at the window,
laughing at the danger. From my window I could see
almost every tree in the orchard, but I couldn t find
a sign of his grave. Nor was there any mark on the
fence. That was all I could make out unless I closed
my eyes. And then all I could see was him.
Four large Rottweilers patrolled the course of
Fox s last run, stiff-legged and rough-hackled with
suspicion, but they did not go into the orchard,
though the fence would be no obstacle.
I didn t turn round when the door opened. A
blanket was put around my shoulders and a steaming
mug was placed on the window ledge in front of me.
The scent of fresh-ground coffee laced with brandy
rose to my nostrils, making my stomach churn with
incipient nausea.
 Our employer, said Tweedledum,  has every
confidence that in the light of recent events you will
have reconsidered your position, bearing in mind
that there are others available for your persuasion.A
Michael Rees, a Joseph Wells, not to mention Lisa
137
and Simon Rees-Lockyer and their daughter. Drink
the coffee, Mr Rees.
I drank it. After the first couple of sips it actually
settled my stomach and brought me some inner
warmth. I wrapped both hands around the mug
and stared at the Tweedles, memorising every line
of their features. If the weight of my regard made
them uncomfortable, they didn t show it. I was no
threat to them, or so they thought. They were wrong.
I was Nemesis. Sooner or later I would work out how
justice would be done on all three of them.
I was taken down a couple of floors and into a
warm bedroom. My holdall was on the bed, along
with my shirt, my jacket and sweater. Fox s clothes
were there, too. I dressed, then carefully folded his
things into the holdall and zipped it shut.Sandalwood
and myrrh drifted faint as a distant dream and was
gone.
 Breakfast is ready for you in the workshop, Mr
Rees, Two said. I nodded and went with them.
Left alone, I sat down at the bench, ate bacon and
eggs without throwing up, drank a vast amount of
tea.
The portrait lay there, waiting for me.
I took the dirty crockery into the kitchenette,
washed them up and dried them.
The portrait was still there. Adam s blank blob of
a face seemed to be watching me. So I wandered
back to the bench and sat there, staring back at him.
But I wasn t seeing him at all. Fox, lying in the cold
earth, body stiffened with rigor mortis and soon to
be invaded by maggots and decay, the body that had
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been so incredibly alive in my arms - grief began to
twist in me again, and a hunger for revenge brought
a snarl to my throat.
I glared at the bland oval face and hated it. If it
hadn t been for that portrait Fox would still be alive- I
stopped the Stanley knife millimetres away from the
painted surface. I couldn t do it. Wendlow s living
face, perhaps, but not this centuries old piece of art.
Sickened and shaking, I dropped my head into
my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. There was
another consideration as well. My own life. Once I d
finished this commission, I doubted there would be
others. I d seen murder done - I literally knew where
the body was buried. Could Wendlow afford to let
me live? Hardly. Unless I used Ann as a bargaining
piece. Fox s Ann. God help me, I couldn t even think
coherently.
I was on automatic pilot. Some time later I
discovered I was working on the portrait. I couldn t
even remember making the decision, let alone
starting. Before it could clearly register, the door
opened and Wendlow came in.
 Good evening, Robert, he said smoothly,
keeping the width of the bench between us.
Evening? I d lost a whole day?  I m glad you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]