Dead Men's s Boots

When I got onto the North Circular – which at three in the morning was mercifully deserted – and put my foot down on the pedal, six or seven cartloads of bullying G-force pressed me back into the hand-stitched leather and the street lights blue-shifted. I got to Chingford Hatch in what felt like a minute and a half.

The gates of The Maltings were wide open, and so was the front door. Just like the last time I’d been here, all the lights were on: but this time there was a general absence of people running around like headless chickens.

I parked up and glanced at Juliet lying across the back seat, absolutely still.

It was too dark to tell whether the healing process had already begun. If she were conscious, I could ask her how she was feeling: and then if she broke my little finger, as she’d threatened to do back in Alabama, it would be a sign that she was starting to rally. In any case, I couldn’t take her with me where I was going.

I got out of the car and walked across the stone flags to the door.

I still didn’t see a soul, and dead silence met me in the hallway. I wandered from room to room, expecting an ambush at first and looking behind every door, but you can’t keep those hair-trigger reflexes honed for ever. After a while it became more of a tenseæ an stroll.

I found Covington in Lionel Palance’s bedroom. He was sitting in a steel-framed chair next to Palance’s bed, reading the old man a bedtime story – and it wasn’t Noddy. I guess he must have put his foot down about that.

I walked into the room, making as little noise as I could, and stood behind him while he read. He did the voices pretty convincingly.

‘“What have you been doing, Taffy?” said Tegumai. He had mended his spear and was carefully waving it to and fro.

‘“It’s a little berangement of my own, Daddy dear,” said Taffy. “If you won’t ask me questions, you’ll know all about it in a little time, and you’ll be surprised. You don’t know how surprised you’ll be, Daddy! Promise you’ll be surprised.

”

‘“Very well,” said Tegumai, and went on fishing . . .’

Covington glanced across at his audience of one. Palance was already asleep, his chest rising and falling without sound.

Covington closed the book and put it on the bedside table, in the midst of all the medicines. His movements were a little jerky and so one or two of them fell off onto the floor: he picked them up and put them back in their places.