A Prayer for the Dying - Jack Higgins [29]
Miller was out of his chair and already reaching for his raincoat. 'You can come with me,' he said. 'He might listen to you.'
'What about the autopsy?' Fitzgerald reminded him. 'I thought you wanted to attend personally.'
Miller glanced at his watch. 'There's an hour yet. Plenty of time.'
The lifts were all busy and he went down the stairs two at a time, heart pounding with excitement. Fitzgerald had to be right - it was the only explanation that fitted. But how to handle the situation? That was something else again.
* * *
When Fallon turned down the narrow street beside Holy Name, Varley was no more than thirty yards in the rear. Fallon had been aware of his presence within two minutes of leaving Jenny's place - not that it mattered. He entered the church and Varley made for the phone-box on the corner of the street and was speaking to Meehan within a few moments.
'Mr Meehan? It's me. He's gone into a church in Rockingham Street. The Church of the Holy Name.'
'I'll be there in five minutes,' Meehan said and slammed down the receiver.
He arrived in the scarlet Scimitar with Billy at the wheel to find Varley standing on the street corner, miserable in the rain. He came to meet them as they got out.
'He's still in there, Mr Meehan. I haven't been in myself.'
'Good lad,' Meehan said and glanced up at the church. 'Bloody place looks as if it might fall down at any moment.'
'They serve good soup,' Varley said. 'To dossers. They use the crypt as a day refuge. I've been in. The priest, he's Father da Costa, and his niece, run it between them. She's a blind girl. A real smasher. Plays the organ here.'
Meehan nodded. 'All right, you wait in a doorway. When he comes out, follow him again. Come on, Billy.'
He moved into the porch and opened the door gently. They passed inside and he closed it again quickly.
The girl was playing the organ, he could see the back of her head beyond the green baize curtain. The priest knelt at the altar rail in prayer. Fallon sat at one end of a pew halfway along the aisle.
There was a small chapel to St Martin de Porres on the right. Not a single candle flickered in front of his image, leaving the chapel in semi-darkness. Meehan pulled Billy after him into the concealing shadows and sat down in the corner.
'What in the hell are we supposed to be doing?' Billy whispered.
'Just shut up and listen.'
At that moment, Father da Costa stood up and crossed himself. As he turned he saw Fallon.
'There's nothing for you here, you know that,' he said sternly.
Anna stopped playing. She swung her legs over the seat as Fallon advanced along the aisle and Billy whistled softly. 'Christ, did you see those legs?'
'Shut up!' Jack hissed.
'I told you I'd see to things and I have done,' Fallon said as he reached the altar rail. 'I just wanted you to know that.'
'What am I supposed to do, thank you?' Father da Costa said.
The street door banged open, candles flickered in the wind as it closed again and to Jack Meehan's utter astonishment, Miller and Fitzgerald walked up the aisle towards the altar.
'Ah, there you are, Father,' Miller called. 'I'd like a word with you.'
'My God,' Billy Meehan whispered in panic. 'We've got to get out of here.'
'Like hell we do,' Meehan said and his hand gripped Billy's right knee like a vice. 'Just sit still and listen. This could be very interesting.'
7
Prelude and Fugue
Fallon recognised Miller for what he was instantly and waited, shoulders hunched, hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, feet apart, ready to make whatever move was necessary. There was an elemental force to the man that was almost tangible. Father da Costa could feel it in the very air and the thought of what might happen here filled him with horror.
He moved forward quickly to place himself between