In the struggle his clothes had become dishevelled. And that’s when I saw it – glinting, sticking up from between the ragged exposed ribs.
The bone pipe.
I knew there was something in that bloody thing. An evil or menace that may have even predated Hopkins, but was certainly compounded by him. A dark suckling thing that fed off corruption and horror and fear and blood.
And perverted those who used it.
Felix had given it a taste for blood back then at St Botolph’s Priory and now it was guzzling greedily.
‘You shouldn’t have blown it, Felix,’ I said and closed his eye.
Then I trailed my fingers over his chest and grabbed hold of the pipe. With a wrench I yanked it out of his heart. A warm jet of liquid gushed round my fingers, making them slippery, but I kept hold of it.
Wiping the vile thing on his jacket I reached into my pocket for my lighter. There was an old cigarette packet in there. I put the pipe into it, lit the packet and poured the liquid lighter fuel on top. Then I sat and watched it burn.
I don’t know how long I stayed there beside Felix’s body under the all-seeing moon. The bullet had caught my shoulder and I was losing blood, going into shock. Scared that I was going to bleed out, with a mega effort I raised myself up, washed my clothes down in the river, wiped my fingerprints from the gun.
Then, taking the briefcase, I slipped into the mist, just like my forefather had done.
Chapter Forty-Seven
There was only one place I could go, though I knew I shouldn’t.
When he opened the door his face was like a cartoon: all wriggles and frowns. I might have laughed if I hadn’t have been half dead.
‘You know that shoulder you once offered me?’ I said. ‘I think I could do with it now.’ And then I placed myself in Joe’s capable hands.
He wanted to take me to hospital of course. But I wouldn’t let him, insisting he stitched me up instead with a sterilised needle and some strong cotton. I was already fading in and out of consciousness by then so the pain never seemed too bad. I can’t even remember what it was like now.
What I do remember is Joe’s reaction as I gabbled on about what had happened. His face switched into an expression of disbelief as I took him through the last days and finished with the scene on the riverbank. When I showed him the suitcase and its contents his features changed. Then he sat down and put his head in his hands.
I was trying with all my might to keep myself conscious, figuring I had only hours to get out of the country. Felix’s absence would be noticed come morning – if Cutt wasn’t already alarmed by now.
‘You have to get me to an airport,’ I told Joe. ‘I’ve got to be out on an early flight.’
He just sat there, cradling his head, passing his hands back and forth over the stubble of his hair. ‘I’m sorry to involve you but I didn’t know who else to turn to.’
He looked up and I saw that there was fear in his eyes. ‘Sadie, you’ve really screwed this up. Do you have any idea of what a serious situation this is?’
‘Of course I do. I’m sorry, really I am. Just give me six hours and then you can report me.’
Joe glared at the floor and for a second his face was so tightly drawn I thought he might start to cry or curse me. ‘But you’re here now.’ He pointed at me, then hit his chest. ‘You’ve made me an accessory for Christ’s sake.’
‘I’m …’ I gave up. Sorry didn’t cut it, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say and my vision was coming and going. I was starting to see double.
Joe stood up abruptly. ‘I’m a policeman, Sadie. You know that. You’ve come here for a reason, even if you don’t realise what it is right now. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen to come to me.’
‘Please, Joe.’ I couldn’t even move towards him. My head was so heavy, shoulder burning, and the disinfectant Joe had dabbed on my cuts was stinging like hell. All my concentration was going into staying upright. ‘I need to get some stuff from the flat.’
He pulled on a jacket. ‘You have to turn yourself in. It’s self-defence. Let me go with you.’