ornamental crossbow bolts? Perfectly acceptable. Even the odd little chap who had been watching the place: the father of one of the bar's hostesses, maybe, checking that she worked in a decent place? Or perhaps a private detective following one of B.J. 's more dubious customers? Wel, if she had any more clients like Big Jimmy, that would seem reasonable enough, too!
And so his memories seemed whole, complete as some well-remembered tune, and not a single discordant note to jar his mind awake to its errors. As far as last night was concerned, that page of the Necroscope's mind had been re-written.
Maybe he frowned once or twice, and blinked as B.J. sat down beside him and poured coffee, but that was all. Harry's main concern right now was that he hadn't been bothersome to his lady host. For after drinking her red wine . . . well, the night's events were vague, to say the least!
'Have you decided, then?' B.J. broke into his thoughts.
Startled, he looked at her. 'Decided?'
She nodded, sighed, said, 'My, but you're having a really rough time of it, aren't you? Have you decided when you'll continue your search for your wife and baby! It was the very last thing you said to me before you, er, turned in? No, I can see that you don't remember. You said that you'd have to sleep on it. You told me it could be as early as today. But looking at you this morning ... I can't say I'd advise you to travel anywhere too far too fast, Harry Keogh!'
Too far too fast.' The word sequence opened another door in the Necroscope's mind. Brenda and his son. He had come here to find out if there was a connection between Bonnie Jean and their disappearance. Forlorn hope! No, B.J. was just a strong-willed young woman who believed in taking matters into her own hands. And Harry couldn't deny that if he'd been in her place he would probably have done pretty much the same thing. An eye for an eye. Her connection therefore was purely coincidental.
And despite his false memories, this time Harry was absolutely right: where Brenda was concerned, BJ.'s coming on the scene had been entirely coincidental.
So, back to her question. Til think it over - think it out - a while longer,' he said. 'Well, for a couple of weeks, anyway.' (A couple of weeks? Yes, he was decided. Three weeks at least... to think it out.) And fingering his scalp again: That is, when I can think again! But I'l need at least that long to work out some kind of plan - won't I?'
She nodded and shrugged. 'Well, it's none of my business, of course. It's just that I wish you luck. But whatever you do, you will stay in touch, right? Let me know how you get on?'
Harry wasn't looking at her; he was sitting there holding his head between his hands, blinking his stinging eyes and trying to focus them, looking at his left sock where it hung half off his foot. But her words rang in his mind like a bel:
'Stay in touch ... "
He gave a slight involuntary jerk, was unable to stop his reaction, as a short, sharp series of vivid scenes flooded his mind:
A full moon, brilliant yellow, like burnished gold, sailing a clear night sky. That was al he should have seen, and he knew it - knew something - remembered something however briefly, like a name on the tip of the tongue that comes ... then slips maddeningly away: 'When the moon is nearing its full, stay in touch!' That was all there should be, yes. But there was more: A snarling visage: the merest glimpse of dripping fangs, salivating leathery lips, pointed ears and grey fur; and commanding eyes, red as sin - ful of sin - carrying some secret message that Harry couldn't read. Then the moon again, showing the wolfs head in silhouette, thrown back in a silent, throbbing howl!
The kaleidoscopic scenes were there ... and they were gone. And even the knowledge that they'd been there was gone, except for a fading shadow on Harry's metaphysical mind.
And of course he jumped to the wrong, or not entirely correct, conclusion: it had to be Alec Kyle, his precognition!
But had it been a warning, or what? Or was it simply an echo not of the future but the past, a flashback to the madness and mayhem down in London? And if so, why? But