gns.thedruidconnection-第24部分
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o。 Therefore we must remove the cause； which means we must attempt to kill the cancer； the corruption which is at the root of it all。'
'In other words we're going to pay this bishop a visit？'
'Not at the moment。 Assuming that we have our facts right； the bishop is the main bloodsucking leech but without a crooked planning officer and a builder willing to e in on the deal he couldn't have got the scheme off the ground in the first place。 Doubtless all evidence has been removed from the planning offices so we'd just be wasting our time searching them。 Cash will change hands in due course without a trace but maybe there's some document somewhere which could convict the guilty if it fell into the wrong hands。 Stone is the most likely。 I'm thinking that if maybe there was some kind of agreement drawn up； and you can't trust bishops or builders to give a backhander just on the strength of a handshake； then Waiter Stone will have it at his house。'
'I've always fancied having a crack at burglary；' Kent smiled wryly。
'I don't need to tell you the basic risks；' Sabat pulled out his meerschaum and began stuffing tobacco into the bowl。 'If Groome and his men pick us up then we'll do a spell in gaol。 But there's a greater danger … we have to wait for nightfall and we can only hazard a guess at the forces which will be abroad after dark。 You and I could sit it out in a pentagram and be reasonably safe。 Out there； I can only use limited protective methods。 They may not be enough。'
'I guess I'm in this too deep to back out；' Kent stretched and yawned。 'And I'm damned if I'm stopping in on my own； worrying myself about what the hell you're up to； Sabat； and that maybe the next time I set eyes on you you'll resemble a piece of steak that got left too long under the grill。'
'Thank you；' Sabat regarded the other through a haze of tobacco smoke and knew that he had not misjudged his man。 'Stone's place is our target tonight； then。 There's just one thing that worries me； though。 You can't remember anything about what happened from the time this guy engaged you in conversation in the pub until I drove that evil entity out of you。 But you do remember what this fellow looked like and before we set out tonight I think we should try and see if there's any way in which we can find out who he was。 The dark powers can use any form they choose but just suppose this wasn't one of the ancient druids in human form but a more recent astral projection。 We'll snatch a few hours sleep and then I think it may well be worth making a few enquiries before we pay Mr Stone a visit。'
Kent closed his eyes； stretched himself out in the armchair。 Sabat was talking in riddles but he had enough faith in his panion just to tag along。 And as a confirmed atheist he wasn't going to think too much about the dangers that lay beyond the realms of his mortal existence。 That was Sabat's worry。
Walter Stone had been a very uneasy man for the past three months。 Now with the news of Marion Hurst's death he was almost frantic with fear。
At fifty…one he had resigned himself to remaining a bachelor for the rest of his days。 He was too set in his ways； anyway； to have his routine disrupted by the intrusion of a female upon his household。 He had a prominent position in the town； manded respect； even fear at times； because he had the power to sway the planning mittee at their monthly sessions。 He received frequent subversive presents； they weren't bribes； he made that quite clear； but always said that he would do his best when certain plans came up before him。 He usually managed something； if only a promise。
He'd told both Bishop Boyce and Darren Hurst that in the beginning when a case of whisky had been dropped off at his house one night by the palace chauffeur。 He didn't hold out much hope； though； he explained to Boyce the next day； because green…belt was sacrosanct。
Then Hurst had invited him round that evening； but when Stone arrived he discovered that the builder had had to go off on an urgent call。 And there was no harm in enjoying a drink with the latter's wife in the meantime。
Just thinking about how it had all turned out never failed to give Walter Stone an erection。 It had been the most mind…blowing experience of his almost virginal existence。 More exciting even than his first time when he'd picked up a prostitute in town late one Saturday night。 The unexpectedness of it all left him breathless even now。 What could an attractive woman ten years younger than himself have seen in him？ Nothing； except that it had served the Hurst's purpose to lure him upstairs。 He tried to tell himself that she couldn't have gone that far if she didn't feel something for him。
Hurst hadn't even been angry when he'd walked into the bedroom。 In fact； he'd apologised and made a discreet withdrawal； even had a drink poured out for the two of them when they came downstairs。 If only the builder had ranted and raved； threatened violence or maybe hinted at making a plaint to the Planning mittee； but he hadn't even mentioned the promising situation。 The only thing he'd said on Stone's departure that evening was 'doubtless； that proposal of ours will go through now； Walter'。 And； of course； it had。 Because Walter had had no choice。
Now Marion was dead； burned up like that curate they'd found the other week。 Stone hadn't gone into the office that day。 He'd phoned and said he was ill； which was partly true。 He was beginning to panic。 Boyce had said that there was some kind of 'haunting' at St Monica's but it was nothing that an exorcist could not deal with。 Christ； look what had happened to Cleehopes； still a mindless vegetable liable to spend the remainder of his days babbling nonsensically to himself in a padded cell！
All this had started since Stone had swayed the mittee。 He'd convinced them that the ten acres was an eyesore； would bee an unsightly wilderness as the years went by。 'Go and look at the state the churchyard's in if you don't believe me。' In the end the planning officer had got his way。
He'd spent the day indoors； tried to phone the bishop twice but on each occasion Boyce was not available。 Jesus Christ； what had Marion gone there alone at night for？ The only thing he could think of was that she'd had a date with some guy and it had all turned sour。 He'd killed her； poured paraffin over her and set her alight。 If he hadn't known there was something inexplicable going on at St Monica's he would have believed that and felt a damned sight easier。
Boyce was getting windy too。 And this fellow； Sabat； had a reputation for poking his nose into things that were none of his concern。 The bishop must have been crazy to call him in。 It was like hiring a man…eating tiger from the zoo to kill the rats in your garden； after the vermin had been accounted for it might just turn on you。
Walter Stone spent a restless day； constantly glancing out of the window across his small neat garden。 The weather was warm and spring…like but he wasn't going outside。 No sir； he was going to stay safely locked indoors。 And maybe he'd phone the office and tell them he was taking tomorrow off； too； and the day after that if the police didn't e up with something in the meantime。
His fears were magnified with the approach of evening。 The shadows lengthened as he sat there in the lounge； mentally and physically drained。 Soon it would be time to put the lights on； draw the curtains； shut himself away in his own little world。
It was eight twenty…five by the clock on the mantleshelf when Walter Stone's real terror began。 With an effort he dragged himself out of the armchair； almost made a rush for the light switch。 God； it was dark already。 The clock must have stopped； lighting…up time wasn't until eight forty…five but。 。 。 。
He clicked the switch； stared at the white plastic casing in amazement； disbelief。 The room was still dark； the light hadn't e on。 He clicked it again。 And again； frantically working it up and down until the spring weakened。 Something gave； the switch moved loosely； disconnected somewhere。 And it was
