Nightmare

45

Nightingale and Jenny stood and watched the people carrier drive back towards the gate. Nightingale waved. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said. ‘Catch you later.’

‘They think you’re mad, you know,’ said Jenny.

‘They might be right.’

‘What the hell’s happened, Jack?’

‘I’ve been robbed,’ he said.

‘But who knew the books were down there?’

Nightingale flicked ash onto the ground. ‘Just you and me. And Joshua.’

‘You don’t think he stole them, do you?’

Nightingale looked at her. ‘Joshua?’

‘Basic detection, right? Motive, means, opportunity.’

Nightingale grinned. ‘You’ve been watching too much CSI.’

‘You think this is funny? You’ve no insurance, remember? And you need the money from those books to pay the bank.’

‘I don’t think it’s funny, no. But it can’t have been Joshua. Why would he have sent his team if he’d already taken the books?’

‘So that you wouldn’t suspect him.’

Nightingale nodded slowly. ‘Nice,’ he said. ‘But he’s out of the country, so how’s he going to arrange a robbery from the States?’

‘He knows people. You said that. With the sort of money he’s got he wouldn’t have any trouble getting professionals to clean you out.’

‘It’s certainly true that they were pros,’ said Nightingale. ‘No signs of entry, they took absolutely everything and they wrecked the surveillance equipment.’

‘Was the CCTV system on?’

‘No,’ said Nightingale. ‘But I guess they figured better safe than sorry.’

‘They knew what they were after, that’s for sure,’ said Jenny. ‘But no one else knew the basement was down there. The firemen, for example. There were lots of them tramping around but all they’d have seen was an empty house. Same with the cops. The only things of value in the house were in the basement and no one knew the basement was there.’

‘Except Joshua, is that what you’re saying? That’s just circumstantial.’

‘You took him down there. He saw what you had. How much were the books worth? We don’t know, but millions, right? Tens of millions? Don’t you think that he might have come to the conclusion that he’d be better off taking them rather than paying you?’

‘He’s not like that, Jenny,’ said Nightingale. He flicked away the remains of his cigarette. ‘He’s okay.’

‘A trustworthy Satanist? Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?’

‘You haven’t met him, kid. He’s a good guy.’

‘A good guy who worships the Devil?’

Nightingale chuckled. ‘It’s not like that. Mrs Steadman explained it to me some time ago. There’s no black magic or white magic, just magic. Like electricity. You can use electricity to save lives in an ICU or kill people in an electric chair. The power’s the same; it’s what you do with it that matters.’

‘That’s nonsense,’ said Jenny. ‘Mrs Steadman is a sweet old lady who uses herbs and crystals, and by your own admission Joshua Wainwright is a devil-worshipper.’

‘Satanist,’ corrected Nightingale.

‘You’re bisecting rabbits,’ said Jenny.

‘What?’

Jenny grinned at him. ‘Splitting hairs. It’s something my dad always says. A Satanist is a devil-worshipper, Jack. The clue is in the name.’

‘I can’t explain it but Joshua’s heart is in the right place. I trust him.’

‘I’m sure you do, but, as I keep telling you, you’re a lousy judge of character.’ She sighed. ‘What are you going to do, Jack?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’re going to have to call the cops.’

‘Chalmers would laugh in my face.’

Jenny shook her head. ‘I can’t understand why you’re taking this so calmly.’

‘What do you want me to do? Break down and cry? At the moment, here and now, there’s nothing I can do. Whoever took the books has got clear away. The cops won’t help, so I’m just going to have to figure it out for myself. Plus, they’re specialist books. It’s not as if the thief can sell them on eBay. They can only have been stolen by another Satanist and they’re a pretty small group.’ He buttoned up his raincoat. ‘I need a drink.’

‘Drink’s not going to get the books back,’ said Jenny.

‘No, but it’ll make me feel better,’ said Nightingale. He walked over to the Audi. ‘Come on, let’s find the nearest pub. I’m buying.’

‘I’m the designated driver, remember?’

‘You can watch me drown my sorrows, then.’ He grinned. ‘I’m joking. Let’s go back to London.’