Dissolution

I moved steadily on, staring ahead into the gloom. Nothing. No sound. As I approached the top of the church the walkway bent round in a half-circle, and a few moments later Mark and I were staring at each other, standing fifty feet apart at either end of the presbytery. And between us nothing, nobody. He looked at me incredulously.

'He came this way, I saw him,' he called.

'Then where is he? There's nobody this end of the church. You must have been mistaken, he must have headed down the other way, towards the door.' I stared back the way I had come, past the rood screen to where the end of the walkway was lost in the darkness.

'I'd swear on my life he came this way, I'd swear it.'

'All right.' I took a deep breath. 'Keep calm. If he's down the other end of the church we still have him. No one has gone down the stairs, we would have heard. We'll go back to the other end.'

'Perhaps we should go down. One of us could fetch help.'

'No, it's hard to keep an eye on both staircases at once, in a place this size he could slip away if he gets down.'

We took a parallel course once more, back the way we had come. My eyes were sore from peering intently ahead. As I passed the rood screen with its statues, something nagged at my mind. I was well past before it came to me: there had been the usual three statues: St John the Baptist, Our Lord and the Virgin. But there was a fourth as well.

Even as I paused and turned something whistled through the air and struck the wall beside me. A dagger clattered onto the walkway at my feet as I turned, realizing that what I had taken for the middle statue was in fact a living man in Benedictine habit. Even now a dim figure was clambering over the railing onto the walkway. I turned and ran towards him, but my foot caught in the mesh of the walkway and I fell forward onto the railing. For a second my head and shoulders hung out over the nave and I stared terrified over the drop, then I managed to haul myself upright. The figure had gone. I heard footsteps clattering down the stairs.

'Mark!' I called. 'This side! He's escaping!'

Mark was some distance ahead and by the time he had run back to the top of the stairs on the far side the monk had descended. I heard footsteps pattering away; he ran beside the wall on my side, making it impossible to see him. I ran down the stairs and arrived at the bottom just as Mark appeared opposite. In the distance the church door slammed shut.

'He was standing on the rood screen, with the statues!' I shouted. 'Did you see who it was? He was gone in a flash.'

'No, sir, he was down on the stairs by the time I reached you.' He stared up at the screen. 'He must have climbed out on the screen as we were going up the stairs. God's wounds, he must have courage to stand up there with no rail or support.'

'Hoping reformers would instinctively avert their eyes from statuary. He's got away.' I looked at the dagger I had picked up from the walkway. A sharp, unornamented weapon of steel. No clue there. I banged my fist on the wall, sending a wave of pain shooting up my arm.

'But, sir, what about Gabriel? Did you not think him the killer after all? What did you find in the hidden passage?'

I hesitated. 'I was mistaken, completely mistaken. He had no secrets. And now someone else has died because of me. Despite my prayers,' I added, looking angrily up at the roof for a moment. 'But I swear he shall be the last.'

CHAPTER 26

I had ordered the four surviving senior obedentiaries to the church. Abbot Fabian, Prior Mortimus, Brother Edwig and Brother Guy stood with Mark and me in the nave as servants hauled lumps of stone from Gabriel's body. Strangely, I found I could bear the terrible sight, a shocked, numbed feeling had descended on me. I watched the obedentiaries' reactions: Brother Guy and Prior Mortimus stood impassive, Brother Edwig wrinkled his face with distaste, Abbot Fabian turned away and vomited into the aisle.

I ordered them to accompany me to Gabriel's little office, where stacks of books for copying sat on the floor, and the broken statue of the Virgin still leaned mournfully against the wall. I asked them where the monks had been an hour before, when the stone fell.

'All over the precinct,' Prior Mortimus replied. 'It's recreation hour. Not many would be out in this weather, most would be in their cells.'

'Jerome? Is he safe?'

'Locked in his cell since yesterday.'

'And you four. Where were you?'