Nightfall

66

Alice Steadman was dusting a display of crystals when Nightingale walked into her shop. She smiled brightly when she saw him. ‘Mr Nightingale, so nice to see you,’ she said. ‘Did everything go all right with Mr Wainwright?’

‘Everything went perfectly,’ said Nightingale. He took an envelope from his jacket pocket and gave it to her. ‘I wanted to drop by and give you your commission. I hope a banker’s draft’s okay.’

She took the envelope from him and opened it. She slid out the cheque and her eyes widened. She gasped and leaned against a display case. ‘Mr Nightingale, this is a fortune. I can’t accept it. I really can’t.’

Nightingale waved away her objections. ‘It’s the commission we agreed.’

‘But this is… this is… I never expected…’

‘It’s fine. If you hadn’t put me in touch with Mr Wainwright I wouldn’t have sold the book, so you’ve earned that.’

She blinked at him. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Mr Nightingale,’ she said. She looked up from the cheque. ‘If there’s anything I can ever do for you, please, just ask,’ she said.

‘Actually, there is,’ he said. ‘I want to draw a magic circle on a wooden floor. Is there a special chalk or something I should use?’

‘Of course, and I have it in stock,’ she said. ‘I use it myself for making sacred circles.’

She went over to a display of Tarot cards. Next to it were a dozen or so boxes about the size of cigarette packets, but instead of government health warnings they were adorned with stars and moons. ‘On the house,’ she said, and handed him one.

‘And consecrated salt water,’ said Nightingale.

‘This is a protective circle, is it?’

Nightingale nodded. ‘I’m told that a chalk circle reinforced with consecrated salt water is the strongest defence.’

‘Defence against what, exactly?’ she asked. ‘What are you planning to do?’

Nightingale ignored her questions. He took a list from his pocket and gave it to her. ‘There are a few other things here that I’m told I need to open and close the circle.’

She took the list from him and ran her eyes down it. Her lips tightened. ‘Oh dear, Mr Nightingale. Are you sure about this?’

‘I’m sure. Can you sell me those items?’

‘Oh, yes, they’re all very straightforward. But I do hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘So do I, Mrs Steadman. So do I.’