‘I’m not dissing this, Betty.’
‘We can dismiss everything as pure imagination, can’t we? And then something happens, and it’s too late. And I say I can fix it… but I haven’t done this stuff in quite a while, and if you don’t work at it day and night you lose it. You need to meditate for hours every day. Visualize, focus, induce trance states, levi-tate. But a heavy inner life doesn’t leave you much of an outer life. And if you have problems like, say, a disabled husband… hopeless. So when Gwyn mentioned you were around…’
‘You want me to try and cleanse the place, best I can?’
The kettle hissed in derision.
‘You’re carrying two thousand years of tradition,’ Betty said. ‘Older than what passes for paganism, which actually got cobbled together in the nineteen fifties. Which I’m not denigrating. Not saying it doesn’t work, or that it hasn’t given me a lot of electric moments over the years, but… I’ll do whatever you want. Go down to Father Richard’s church on bended knees and confess my… heathen sins.’
‘Actually… I should really go down and clear it with him, too. As it’s not my patch.’
‘I think he’s on holiday. It’s that time of year, isn’t it? ’
‘In which case I suppose I can get away with squaring it with the Swansea and Brecon Deliverance minister.’
Huw.
‘And assuming it’s OK…’ Betty poured boiling water into the pot. ‘What would you be able to do?’
‘Depends very much on what we’re looking at. If this is just Mr Brace still around, we’d be looking to help him on his way. If, as we suspect, Mr Brace was involved with an occult-based sect which is borderline satanic, it may not be only Mr Brace and that’s a whole different—’
‘And what if it’s well over the borderline? What if it’s bigger than the shop?’
‘You mean involving the castle. As there’s nobody living in the castle and it’s not my patch, I think I leave it alone. Just make sure that hole’s blocked up before we try anything here.’
‘Richard Booth never quite got the measure of the castle, either,’ Betty said. ‘He had a disastrous fire. Now he’s finally had to sell it.’
‘Let’s try and avoid the implications of that… at this stage. I can go so far – minor exorcism, exorcism of place – without an official nod. Beyond that, I’d really need to talk to the Bishop.’
‘Which one?’
Betty looked disconsolate. Merrily thought about it.
Of course. Protocol.
‘You’re right. I’d have to talk to my bishop, who’s probably still in London, and he’d have to talk to the Bishop of Swansea and Brecon and… bugger. Let’s just—’
The mobile chimed in her bag.
‘—play it by ear.’
The light wasn’t strong enough in here to make out the number. A tiny room filling up with steam. She stabbed the keyboard.
‘Merrily,’ she said.
Bliss said, ‘I think I need you to come out again, if you would.’
‘Where?’
‘Did I tell you about Claudia Cornwell, the barrister?’
‘The woman in the red car.’
‘She’s coming out to meet me. At Rector’s place at Cusop. We’ve arranged to be there in about half an hour, when it’s dark. Any chance you can come over?’
‘What, as a chaperone?’
‘Yeh, to chaperone me. I need somebody who understands what the hell she’s on about.’
‘In connection with what?’’
‘In connection with what they found in the river this afternoon.’
‘You mean the—?’
‘Maybe not a joke.’
‘And you’re saying she knows about me? Or are you?’
‘Yeh. She’s not unhappy. She’s already checked you out online.’
Merrily could hear footsteps on the stairs, raised voices.
‘The important thing is you’re not a cop,’ Bliss said. ‘Not an official witness. Important for me, too. I’m stepping outside the box. Several boxes, now I think about it.’
‘When did you last sleep?’
‘Why do people keep asking me that? Until half an hour ago, actually. In the car. Gorra grab it when you can. Merrily, I’m gonna be a bit out of me depth, that’s the thing.’
‘How long will it take? I’m in the middle of… something else.’
She could hear Robin calling urgently for Betty.
‘Couldn’t say,’ Bliss said. ‘It’s only an interpreter’s job, and if it’s nothing to worry about, less than hour. Yes?’