Equinox

Chapter 12

The Acolyte was proud of the work that he had done. It came as the fulfilment of a long-cherished dream. He was working for one of the greatest men alive, doing work that made a difference, work that had meaning, purpose. And he was part of the great plan, the Great Work as it had once been called hundreds of years before his time.

He had trained for many years so that he might complete the tasks for which he was now responsible. That training had been gruelling. He had studied at the best medical schools, practised in the operating theatres of three internationally respected hospitals, roved through disciplines and acquired many skills while honing his considerable natural talents. He had studied cryogenics, psychology and mathematics as well as pursuing occult studies that included numerology, astrology and alchemy.

He pulled his inconspicuous black Toyota into a vacant visitors' space in the car park of Somerville College, Oxford and stepped out onto the gravel. The soles of his handmade black brogues crunched on the stones. He brushed imaginary flecks of dust from the front of his immaculate Cerruti suit, smoothed back a few strands of hair above his ears, straightened his already perfectly aligned silk Hermes tie and studied his reflection in the rear nearside car window before walking towards the main quad of the college.

The Acolyte glanced at his Patek Philippe. It was almost three o'clock. Samantha Thurow, a third-year history and politics undergraduate, would, he knew, be emerging from Staircase 7 at any moment. From the second she appeared here until 9.08 p.m. precisely he would keep close track of her movements. In a broad sense, he already knew what those movements should be: he had wired her room in a student house in Summertown just north of the city centre and he had tapped her phone.

As he recalled these facts and began to feel the first tingle of sweet anticipation, he saw Samantha walk from the darkness of the entrance of Staircase 7. She was talking to another student, a short Asian girl. Samantha was a tall and exceptionally pretty brunette with sensual almond eyes and full, brightly coloured lips. Her hair was arranged with care to look a mess. She was wearing a short tartan skirt over black woollen tights, a pair of black Doc Martens, a tight red sweater and a black cardigan.

She was carrying an armful of books and had a small leather bag slung over her left shoulder. The Acolyte considered Samantha Thurow's sartorial choices with some distaste as he walked slowly around the quad, watching the two girls go past the Porters' Lodge into the street beyond.

He had committed to memory almost every detail of the file he had constructed on Samantha Thurow. Born 19 May 1986 in Godalming, Surrey. Father an arms contractor; mother a teacher; two older brothers and a younger sister. A scholarship student in her third year at Somerville. Samantha was on the fast track, a high-flyer. Medical: perfect health, usual childhood illnesses, broken arm at the age of nine; kidneys in Al condition. Love life: current boyfriend Simon Welding, a trainee teacher, twenty-four. He shared a rented house in East Oxford with two other students, and Samantha stayed there at least twice a week during term time.

Samantha unlocked her bike and pulled it away from the wall, waved goodbye to her friend and turned right, crossing St Giles and heading towards the city centre. The Acolyte knew where she was going and felt no need to hurry back to his car. Reaching the Toyota, he pulled on his gloves, removed a wipe from the packet he always kept with him and cleaned the driver's seat before lowering himself into the car. He cleaned the dash and the wheel and put the wipe into a small plastic bag that lay on the passenger seat. Then he smoothed his trousers and jacket and arranged himself so that he would suffer only the minimum of creasing to his suit. Turning the key in the ignition, he drove off.

He passed Samantha along St Giles; she was cycling among a cluster of other bikes. Taking his time on the route around the city centre and along Cowley Road, he reached Princes Street and parked opposite number 268. Ten minutes later, Samantha appeared at the Cowley Road end of the street and cycled down the narrow road lined with gentrified terraced houses before drawing to a halt outside the one that the Acolyte was watching. There she wheeled her bike onto the path, secured it against the wall of the house and used her own key to open the front door.

According to the schedule, her boyfriend Simon Welding would not be there for at least four hours, and Samantha was planning to study all afternoon. During most of the evening the two of them would be alone. The others who lived at number 268 were expected at a party in a nearby street. At just before 9 p.m. he would enter the premises with his equipment, and he would be out by nine-fifteen. A quarter of an hour after that he would be with the Master — and they would be one step closer to completing the Great Work.