A Symphony of Echoes (The Chronicles of St Mary's, #2)

‘Why?’


‘I need to make an unauthorised jump. Now. And I’m sorry but I don’t have time for this. Come or not, I really don’t mind. I think I’d prefer it if you do come, because this concerns you too, but if you are coming it has to be now.’

‘You’re stealing my pod and offering me the option of accompanying you?’

‘Yes,’ I said, impatient at his slowness. ‘Are you coming or not?’

He stared at me for what seemed a considerable time, his face unreadable.

‘Very well. But don’t race through the hall attracting so much attention. Stroll casually.’

‘OK,’ I said, strolling casually.

I couldn’t help speeding up down the long corridor, but by exercising huge, huge self-control, managed to keep it down to a casual canter.

Once inside his pod, however, he slapped my hands away from the controls.

‘No, that’s enough. What’s this about?’

I took a deep breath.

‘You may not remember this, but when you woke after your coma, the first words you said to me were, “Be careful, the names are the same. ”’

‘No, I don’t remember that.’

‘Well, you did. It was the most lucid moment you had for ages.’

‘I’ll take your word for it but I don’t see the significance. Whose names are the same?’

‘Knox. Dr Alexander Knox and John Knox. They have the same names. Well, the same surname anyway.’

He stared at me. I suspected Alexander Knox was a bit of a taboo subject.

‘John Knox. You know, the famous Scottish clergyman. Led the Protestant Reformation in Scotland. Met John Calvin. Instrumental in the removal of the Queen Regent. Wanted Mary Stuart executed for murder.’

‘I know who he is,’ he said, impatiently. ‘What’s that got to do with Alexander Knox? And do not answer that question by saying – Their names are the same.’

‘Well, they are,’ I said stubbornly. ‘And you’re the one who warned me about it.’

‘I was in a coma!’

‘No, you weren’t.’

‘As good as.’

‘Maybe that’s when you do your best work. Maybe you had a moment of clarity. Let’s face it, you’re about due. Look, I’m trying to find some information about Alexander Knox and all Dr Dowson can dig up is a few lines about him opening The Red House, seven years ago. There’s nothing on his background or education. Not even his qualifications, which you have to admit is a bit dodgy.’

‘Given what he does, it’s probably restricted information.’

‘Precisely. That’s why I’m going back to the future to see what they’ve got. The 30 Year Rule won’t apply any more. Now, can we go?’

‘Why are you always in such a hurry?’

‘I’m seeing the Boss at ten this morning with the iffiest proposals you ever heard in your life and I really would like to have something more solid to give him. Can we go now, please?’

We went.

We materialised on the pan in front of Hawking and sat quietly while all the bells and whistles sounded. A double half-circle of armed guards surrounded the entrance to the pod. They’d learned their lessons well. I was proud.

‘I’ll go first,’ said Farrell. ‘Exit slowly and carefully.’ In the old days, he would have said, ‘Don’t bounce out like an excited wombat and get yourself shot,’ but we weren’t on those terms any more.

We walked slowly out of the pod, hands up.

A voice called, ‘Identify yourselves.’

‘Good morning. Farrell and Maxwell. To see the Director.’

‘This way, please.’

Some few months had passed since we left and renovations were still proceeding. The walls were still pitted and scorched, but the place was clean and tidy and people were going noisily about their business. There were familiar faces around and some waved.

Someone must already have contacted her. She was waiting for us on the half landing. I was impressed. Exactly the spot I would have chosen. She’d done us the courtesy of coming to greet us, but the half landing, while friendly and informal, still meant we had to walk up to her. I liked her style.

‘It’s good to see you both again. How can St Mary’s be of assistance?’

I smiled. ‘A very simple request to use the library, if I may, Director. I urgently need some information that’s not yet available under our 30 Year Rule. I’m hoping you can help.’

‘Of course. If you can be specific, I’ll have my people bring it to us in my office. I hope you have time for coffee.’

‘That’s very kind and, actually, I did miss breakfast.’

‘So, what exactly are you looking for?’

‘I’d like anything you can dig up on a Doctor Knox.’

Any doubts I might have had about whether or not I was wasting everybody’s time were immediately dispelled. She grabbed my arm and said in a fierce undertone, ‘What do you know about Alexander Knox?’

Two could play at that game.

I said, ‘What do you know about Alexander Knox?’

She looked around for a moment and then back at me again, plainly undecided.