in the prime of life.
The woman in the room behind him tugged at the knobs of the doors, then flung them open. Ash stepped to the side.
“Aaron Lightner’s dead!” she cried. “Aaron’s been murdered.”
There were gasps, small cries of dismay and surprise. But all around, there was innocence. The old man from the library looked mortally wounded by this news. Innocent.
It was time to get away.
Ash pushed through the loose gathering quickly and decisively and made for the stairs, going down two by two before anyone followed. The woman screamed for them to stop him, to not let him escape. But he had too good a head start, and his legs were so much longer than theirs.
He reached the side exit before his pursuers found the top of the little stairway.
He went out into the night and walked fast across the wet grass, and then, glancing back, began to run. He ran until he had reached the iron fence, which he easily vaulted, and then he walked up to his car and made a hasty gesture for his driver to open the door for him and then take off out of here.
He sat back as the car moved faster and faster on the open highway.
He read the fax number written by the woman on a piece of paper. It was a number outside of England, and if memory served him right, it was in Amsterdam.
He pulled loose the phone hooked beside him on the wall of the car, and he punched in the number for the long-distance operator.
Yes, Amsterdam.
He memorized the number, or tried to, at least, and then he folded the paper and put it into his pocket.
When he returned to the hotel, he wrote down the fax number, ordered supper, then bathed at once, and watched patiently as the hotel waiters laid out for him a large meal on a linen-draped table. His assistants, including the pretty young Leslie, stood anxiously by.
“You’re to find me another place of residence as soon as it’s daybreak,” he told Leslie. “A hotel as fine as this one, but something much larger. I need an office and several lines. Come back for me only when everything is arranged.”
The young Leslie seemed overjoyed to be so commissioned and empowered, and off she went with the others in tow. He dismissed the waiters, and began to consume the meal of sumptuous pasta in cream sauce, lots of cold milk, and the meat of a lobster, which he did not like, but which was, nevertheless, white.
Afterwards he lay on the sofa, quietly listening to the crackling of the fire and hoping perhaps for a gentle rainfall.
He also hoped that Yuri would return. It wasn’t likely. But he had insisted they remain here at Claridge’s on the chance that Yuri would trust them again.
At last Samuel came in, so drunk that he staggered. His tweed jacket was slung over his shoulder, and his white shirt was rumpled. Only now did Ash see that the shirt was specially made, as the suit had been, to fit Samuel’s grotesque body.
Samuel lay down by the fire, awkward as a whale. Ash got up, gathered some soft pillows from the couch, and put them beneath Samuel’s head. The dwarf opened his eyes, wider than usual, it seemed. His breath was fragrant from drink. His breath came in snorts, but none of this repelled Ash, who had always loved Samuel.
On the contrary, he might have argued to anyone in the world that Samuel had a rocklike, carven beauty, but what would have been the use?
“Did you find Yuri?” Samuel asked.
“No,” said Ash, who remained down on one knee, so that he could speak to Samuel almost in a whisper. “I didn’t look for him, Samuel. Where would I begin in all of London?”
“Aye, there is no beginning and no end,” said Samuel with a deep and forlorn sigh. “I looked wherever I went. Pub to pub to pub. I fear he’ll try to go back. They’ll try to kill him.”
“He has many allies now,” said Ash. “And one of his enemies is dead. The entire Order has been alerted. This must be good for Yuri. I have killed their Superior General.”
“Why in the name of God did you do that?” Samuel forced himself up on his elbow and struggled to gain an upright position, but Ash had finally to help him.
Samuel sat there with his knees bent, scowling at Ash.
“Well, I did it because the man was corrupt and a liar.