Page 166 of Storm of Bells
Jenny gave me a look. ‘I’ve mucked out enoughstables in me life to know bullshit when I ‘ear it.’
‘Ehem. Perhaps you should believe itanyway?’
‘Why?’
‘Plausible deniability.’[32]
‘Hm…’ She considered that for a moment—thengrinned, and nodded. ‘Makes sense. Need any ‘elp?’
‘Um…perhaps you could help the vicar takecare of that man? I think if I ended up having to do it, Mr Ambrosewould level the vicarage to the ground.’
‘We can’t ‘ave dat, now, can we?’ Eyessparkling, Jenny’s eyes focused on the vicar. ‘Hm…bein’ an angel ofmercy, eh? Yep, I think I could do dat. Would fit very nicely in myplans.’
Deep inside, I felt pity for the poor man. Hehad no idea what—or rather who—was coming for him.
As we approached the vicarage, the door waspulled open and an elderly woman—the reverend’s housekeeper, Isurmised, peeked out. ‘What’s all this noise about? Reverend, if Itold you once I told you a thousand times, you mustn’t overexertyourself. It’s not health—Jesus, Maria and Joseph! What happened tohim, poor man?’
‘No time for explanations!’ the vicar panted.‘Let’s get him inside. Where’s the doctor?’
‘He hasn’t arrived from town yet. But heshould come in the next hour or so.’
‘No!’ The poor vicar gazed down at the limpform of Dalgliesh with despair. ‘What shall we do?’
‘Let him bleed to death?’ Karimsuggested.
Fortunately, the vicar missed that particularremark.
‘Is there anyone who has any experience withtreating wounds here? Anyone?’ he glanced around from one of us tothe next. ‘Lord Ambrose? You sir? You? Miss Linton?’
He looked at me with big, pleading eyes. Helooked so hopeful. So certain that this new angel of mercy, MissLillian Linton, who had come to fix everything that was wrong inhis parish, could fix this problem as well…
Crap!
‘Get him inside! I’ll take care of this.’
‘You willwhat?’ Mr Ambrose stared atme as if I’d just announced I had purple melons for hands.
I shrugged. ‘I patched you up once, didn’t I?It won’t be perfect, but it’ll hold until the doctor comes.’Ifwe’re unlucky, that is.
‘Wonderful! Simply wonderful! I knew I couldcount on you, Miss Linton.’ Beaming, the vicar patted me on theback—then quickly snatched his hand back as his remaining armsagged under Dalgliesh’s weight, and His Lordship’s head soundlycollided with the beam of the doorframe. ‘Quickly! Let’s get himinside. The good Lord won’t forget this, Miss Linton. He’ll blessyou for your charitable heart.’
Oh, he will, will he?I glanced overat Mr Ambrose.I only wish my fiancé had similarfeelings.
‘Come on!’ the vicar nodded to Karim. ‘Let’sgo!’
And he started inside. Karim followed, takingcare to knock Dalgliesh’s head against the doorframe again.
‘Where should we put him?’ I enquired.
‘The compost heap?’ suggested Karim, whoseemed to be full of good ideas today.
‘My bed! It’s in the bedroom down the hall,come on!’
They moved down the corridor, this time thevicar moving faster and Karim lagging. He still seemed to beholding out hope that the reverend would change his mind and headto the compost heap. As a result of the differing velocities,Dalgliesh’s butt was sweeping the floor. I committed the sight tomemory. Even if the bastard survived the night, at least I wouldalways have this.
‘Mrs Wright, open the door please!’ the vicarcalled to his housekeeper. Hurrying forward, the old woman did ascommanded. ‘Let’s get him on the bed, and be careful, please.’
‘Certainly,’ Karim agreed, raised the limpform of Dalgliesh above the reverend’s bed and gently rammed hishead against the headboard.
