telling them about the incident at the pond. ‘They may even be watching your place now. Is there any way you could get up to London today and sort that thing out?’
He didn’t seem to process the urgency in my voice. ‘We’ve had a look at the journal after you went. Couldn’t resist it. Terrific.’
‘Harry, listen, I think you should get out of the house now. Do you think that’s possible?’
‘Let me talk to Anne.’ The phone clanked and I heard the heavy breathing of one of the hounds sniffing the speaker. A minute later he came back on. ‘We’ll leave within the hour.’
‘Great,’ I said, feeling more relieved than I expected. I thanked him and asked him to text me when he’d sorted it. Then I hung up and returned to my room.
When I got through the door my mobile was ringing.
‘Hello, there. How’s our newest author?’ It was Felix.
Where did he fit into all of this? I couldn’t believe that he knew anything about it. He was, after all, just an editor. Pretty low down in the pecking order. If Cutt told him what was going on, then Felix would become another potential leak which would have to be monitored. It was doubtful that Felix had a clue; though it wouldn’t look awry for Cutt to ask about the book. I remembered Delphine’s words, ‘Robert likes to keep an eye on things.’ I needed to keep my cards close to my chest. Breeze it out. Act like nothing unusual had happened.
‘Great,’ I told him.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you since yesterday,’ he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.
I apologised. ‘Sorry, I haven’t had a signal.’
‘You not at home?’
‘Following up a lead for an article I’m writing about, er, pub closures.’ Did that sound feasible?
Must have. Felix didn’t pause.
‘I see. Look, can you make it over to Manningtree this afternoon?’
‘Um. Well I really wanted to get home. Is it important?’
‘Well I don’t want to put you out, but I did mention it last week? That expert I was telling you about. I’ve got you an interview. I think you’ll be rather delighted by this particular person. They have a lot to say about your Witchfinder.’
Not more than me I thought, but I humoured him. ‘Fantastic!’
‘They’re only in the country for one more night,’ he was saying.
Oh crap. I really didn’t want to be driving all the way to North Essex. I wanted to write up this article, expanding on everything I’d learnt, and fleshing out a bestselling book which would undoubtedly not be published by Portillion. Surely with this new information I could get another deal? Though perhaps, Felix’s interviewee might strengthen what I knew? Put like that, I guessed it might be worth a detour.
Plus, I could even stay in Manningtree and start writing up the story straight after the interview. The irony of it came to me, clear as crystal. Somehow it seemed right to expose Hopkins in the very place where he had started his awful crusade. He would be turning in his grave.
Wherever that was.
‘Are you coming too?’ I asked. Felix could act as a protection of sorts.
He paused for a second then lowered his voice. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Okay then,’ I said.
‘That’s great.’ He sounded relieved. ‘I will be at the Thorn Inn from four. I understand the food there is fabulous. I’ll buy dinner.’
‘Four?’ I glanced at my watch. It was gone twelve now. ‘That’s pushing it I’m afraid, Felix.’
‘Five, then,’ he said.
I tried to explain that it would be traffic-dependent, but he’d already hung up. He was obviously on a mission.
I was too.
Though, as it was to pan out, only one of us would succeed.
Chapter Forty-Five
How I managed not to clock the date is still beyond me. I guess I had been so sucked into my own internal world I hadn’t really noticed the turn of the season around me.
So, as I pulled into Mistley that afternoon, it was quite a shock to see covens of witches and devils running amok through the streets. Halloween, All Hallows’ Eve.
The night the dead come out to play.
Of course it was.
To be honest, I would have picked up on it sooner or later anyhow. There was a crackling electricity in the air; a feeling of anticipation and caged energy. Even the houses in the streets glimmered orange, the colour of the festival, and the cobwebs that hung off the rafters had decorated themselves in shiny diamonds of dew.
As if they knew what