A Great Deliverance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,41

I could probably get it down to the hours as well, but you get the idea."

"I couldn't help overhearing the fact that your wife doesn't seem to be enthused about the Teys farm."

Gibson laughed. "You're well bred, Inspector Lynley. I like that sort of thing when the police come calling." He ran his hands through his thick hair, looked at the floor beneath his feet, and found a bottle of ale that, in the general confusion, had become positioned precariously against the side of the couch. He picked it up and drained it before going on, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. It was the gesture of a man used to taking his meals out in the fields.

"No. Madeline wants the fens again. She wants the open spaces, the water and the sky. But I can't give that to her. So I've got to give her what I can." Gibson's eyes flicked over Sergeant Havers, who kept her head bent over her notebook. "Sound like the words of a man who would kill his uncle, don't they?" he asked pleasantly.

Hank finally caught up with them in the novices' room. St. James looked up from kissing his wife - her skin smelled intoxicatingly of lilies, her fingers moved silkily through his hair, her murmured "my love" against his mouth fired his blood - and there was the American, grinning wickedly down at them from his perch on the wall of the day room.

"Cotcha." Hank winked.

St. James contemplated murder. Deborah gasped in surprise. Hank hopped down, unbidden, to join them. "Hey, Bean," he shouted. "Found the lovebirds in here."

JoJo Watson appeared only moments later, struggling through the doorway in the ruined abbey, teetering dangerously on high heels. Round her neck, as a complement to the chains and trinkets, hung an Instamatic camera.

"Taking some shots," Hank said in explanation, nodding towards the camera. "A few minutes more and we'd've had a few sweet ones-a you!" He snorted with laughter, slapping St.

James affectionately on the shoulder. "Don't blame you a bit, fella! If she belonged to me, I couldn't keep my mitts off her." He gave brief attention to his wife. "Dammit, Bean, be careful, woman! Break your neck in this place." He turned back to the other two and noticed Deborah's equipment - camera case, tripod, discarded lenses. "Hey, you taking shots, too? Got sidetracked, huh? That's honeymooners for you. Come on down here, Bean. Join the party."

"Back from Richmond so soon?" St. James finally managed to ask with strangled courtesy. Deborah, he noted, was surreptitiously trying to straighten her clothes. Her eyes met his, full of laughter and mischief, alive with desire. What in God's name were the Americans doing here now?

"Well," Hank admitted as JoJo reached them at last, "I gotta tell you, fella, Richmond wasn't quite everything that you promised it'd be. Not that we didn't get a bang outa the drive. Whatsay, JoJo-bean? Didn't we love it?"

"Hank loves driving on the wrong side of the road," JoJo explained. Her nose twitched.

Her eyes caught the exchange of looks between the two younger people. "Hank, why don't we take a nice, long walk toward Bishop Furthing Road? Wouldn't that be a sweet way to end the afternoon?" She put her bejewelled hand on her husband's arm, attempting to draw him out onto the abbey grounds.

"Hellsapoppin, no," Hank answered pleasantly. "I have done e-n-u-f-f walking on this trip to last me a lifetime." He cocked his head at St. James shrewdly. "That was some m-a-p you gave us, fella! If the Bean here wasn't so fast at reading road signs, we'd be in Edinburgh by now." He pronounced it Ed-in-berg. "Well, there's no harm done, is there? We got here in time to show you the death hole itself."

There was nothing for it but to go along. "Death hole?" Deborah enquired. She had knelt and was replacing her equipment - forgotten for a few moments in the lovely blue of Simon's eyes - in its case.

"The baby, remember?" Hank said patiently. "Although considering what you two's up to in here, I can see the baby story didn't exactly scare the livin' hell outa you, did it?" He winked lasciviously.

"Ah, the baby," St. James responded. He picked up Deborah's case.

"Now I got your interest!" Hank approved. "I could tell at first you mighta been a little peeved at me popping in on you like that. But now I got you, I can tell."

"Yes, indeed," Deborah responded, but her thoughts were