Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [59]
Lomax took out his pipe. ‘There’s nothing much to tell. Faulkner was killed instantly by his fall. Steele’s in custody. We’ve got him for being an accessory before the fact of at least one murder and a string of other criminal charges. We found some very interesting things when we searched his office. He and Faulkner had their fingers in just about everything from organized prostitution to dope peddling.’
Shane frowned and half-closed his eyes. He tried hard to visualize Simon Faulkner. Simon the good comrade, steady and dependable in a tight corner, always gay and smiling. But it was no use. The memory had become somehow elusive and unreal as if it had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
He shook his head helplessly. ‘It shows how little we know anyone - even our closest friends.’ He half-smiled. ‘And what about me? No assault charges? What about that young constable in the alley and the detective on the train? I’m afraid I didn’t have time to be gentle.’
‘Technically I could book you, but under the circumstances …’ Lomax shrugged and got to his feet.
‘I’ll see you again before I leave, I hope,’ Shane said.
Lomax nodded. ‘You can buy me a pint the day you come out.’ He grinned. ‘I must be off. You can lie here in bed if you like, but as far as I’m concerned one crime starts where another finishes.’
As he opened the door, Shane said, ‘Lomax - about Faulkner.’ The detective turned and regarded him curiously and Shane continued. ‘He wasn’t all bad, you know. He saved my life once. I got shrapnel in my foot and he carried me in on his back under heavy fire.’
Lomax shrugged. ‘Like you said, who knows what goes on in the mind of any human being?’ He waved a hand in a small gesture of futility that summed the whole thing up and the door closed softly behind him.
Shane lay staring at the ceiling, thinking about Simon Faulkner and after a while the door opened quietly and Father Costello appeared. He was wearing a dark raincoat and carried a black bag in his right hand. He smiled warmly and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘It does my heart good to see you back in the land of the living, Martin.’
‘Thanks to you, Father,’ Shane told him. ‘If you hadn’t had faith in me …’ His voice trailed away into silence.
‘Nonsense,’ Father Costello said. ‘The truth always comes out in the end if we have a little faith.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay. Laura Faulkner’s father died yesterday. The funeral is this morning and she’s asked me to officiate.’
Shane swallowed hard. ‘How is she, Father?’
The priest shrugged. ‘This thing has hit her harder than anything else, Martin. First her brother and the scandal of what he was and did, and now her father.’ He sighed heavily and walked to the door. ‘I’ll tell her I saw you, Martin. If she comes to see you be gentle with her. Poor girl, she’s quite alone.’
After he had gone Shane lay staring out of the window, thinking about Laura Faulkner and after a while he threw back the bedclothes and swung his feet to the floor. When he stood up and walked across to the wardrobe, he felt as if he were floating and there was a slight buzzing in his ears.
His clothes were hanging neatly from several hangers and he changed as quickly as he could. It took him quite a while to fasten the various buttons and, as his hands were trembling so much, he decided not to bother with a tie. He pulled on his trench-coat and walked across to the door.
The corridor was deserted and he moved quickly along it and went down the stairs at the far end. On the ground floor there seemed to be a great many people moving about, some in uniform, but many of them patients. He moved steadily along a corridor that emptied into a pleasant, tiled foyer and facing him was a wide glass door.
A porter in blue uniform and peaked cap was standing in the porch looking out at the rain and Shane said, ‘Excuse me, I understand someone was being buried from the hospital this morning - a Mr Faulkner. Has the cortege left yet?’
The porter turned and