gns.thedruidconnection-第26部分

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　fawned　around　her。　She　certainly　got　all　she　wanted　out　of　life！
　　
　　Her　pale　blue　eyes　narrowed；　maybe　she　was　getting　tired　of　Darren。　Certainly　he　was　being　neurotic　lately。　One　could　argue　that　he　had　just　cause；　but　on　the　other　hand　they　had　seriously　discussed　removing　Marion　from　the　scene。　Lola　recalled　their　conversation　of　only　a　few　nights　ago　when　they　had　lain　naked　and　satisfied　in　the　bed　at　the　flat。　Darren　had　had　a　'foolproof　idea　for　getting　rid　of　his　wife。　He　would　take　her　out　one　evening　to　a　local　beauty　spot；　a　lake　where　picnickers　and　lovers　ran　their　cars　down　to　the　water's　edge。　There　was　a　slight　incline　and　no　barrier；　the　council　seemed　oblivious　to　the　danger。　It　would　take　an　accident；　a　drowning；　to　get　any　kind　of　action　out　of　them。　Well；　they　were　due　to　have　their　first　one　soon！　Darren　would　ensure　that　all　the　car　doors　were　locked　except　the　driver's。　He'd　get　the　car　rolling；　jump　out　at　the　last　second　before　they　hit　the　water。　It　was　deep　just　there　and　Marion　couldn't　swim；　anyway；　even　if　she　managed　to　escape　from　the　vehicle。　He'd　make　sure　he　got　a　ducking　himself　before　he　went　for　help。　It　couldn't　go　wrong。
　　
　　Lola　laughed　aloud。　Christ；　he　didn't　appreciate　how　lucky　he　was。　Somebody　had　done　the　job　for　him　and　he　didn't　even　run　the　risk　of　a　murder　rap。　And　if　he　had　a　conscience；　which　she　doubted；　there　would　be　nothing　to　plague　him　for　the　rest　of　his　life　and　he　could　tell　himself　that　he　had　not　intended　to　go　through　with　it　anyway。　So　why　was　the　idiot　getting　all　worked　up？　Okay；　there　had　to　be　a　killer　at　large　but　Marion　had　apparently　gone　to　the　churchyard　voluntarily　so　one　could　only　conclude　that　she'd　had　a　date　with　him。　It　looked　as　if　it　was　the　same　guy　who　had　burned　that　curate　up。　As　for　Stone；　he'd　been　cooked　in　a　fire　at　his　own　house；　a　pure　accident　that　would　in　no　way　be　connected。　And　again　it　was　an　ill　wind　。　。　。　Darren　wouldn't　have　to　pay　Stone　out　for　fixing　the　planning　permission　now。　Just　the　bishop；　but　they　needed　Boyce　to　remain　alive　until　contracts　were　exchanged；　otherwise　some　of　the　other　church　hierarchy　might　go　and　concede　to　public　opinion　and　call　the　whole　thing　off。
　　
　　Lola　concluded　that　she　had　a　lot　to　look　forward　to。　In　a　way　it　would　be　nice　to　be　without　Darren　and　his　vivid；　frightened　imagination　tonight。　There　was　nothing　to　be　scared　of。
　　
　　All　the　same；　she　jumped　when　the　front　door　knocker　sent　its　deep；　vibrant　tones　throughout　the　house。　She　tensed；　wondered　who　the　hell　it　could　be。　It　might　be　the　police。　Surely　they　didn't　think　Darren　had　murdered　Marion；　Lola　had　already　told　them　that　he　had　been　with　her　the　whole　of　that　night。　Maybe　they　had　e　round　to　give　her　a　grilling；　hoping　that　she　might　change　her　story。　You　couldn't　trust　the　cops；　they'd　been　real　bastards　back　in　her　hooker　days。
　　
　　It　might　be　Bishop　Boyce；　crapping　himself　with　fright。　。　。　。
　　
　　The　knocker　banged　again；　insistently；　louder　than　before；　and　with　her　stomach　muscles　tightening　into　a　ball；　and　her　shapely　legs　suddenly　feeling　decidedly　rubbery；　Lola　went　to　answer　it。
　　
　　For　some　seconds　she　just　stood　and　stared　at　the　man　on　the　threshold。　A　little　quiver　ran　up　her　spine。　There　was　something　so　goddamned　rugged　about　his　features；　that　vivid　cheek　scar；　the　moustache；　his　eyes；　his　powerful　build　and　a　score　of　other　things　besides。　You　got　the　feeling　that　if　you　didn't　know　him　already　then　you　damned　well　should　as　soon　as　possible。
　　
　　'Good　evening；'　his　smile；　those　eyes　had　her　catching　her　breath　because　she　knew　he　was　mentally　undressing　her。　Tin　looking　for　Mr　Hurst。'
　　
　　'I　。。。　I'm　afraid　he's　not　in。'　For　Christ's　sake　don't　tell　a　stranger　that　you'll　be　all　alone　in　the　house　tonight。
　　
　　'Perhaps　I　could　e　inside　and　wait。'
　　
　　She　wanted　to　say　'no；　you　bloody　well　can't'　but　somehow　the　words　wouldn't　e。　God；　this　was　a　real　hunk　of　a　man　and　she　was　curious　to　find　out　more。
　　
　　'I　don't　even　know　your　name；　Mr。　。　。　。　'　the　words　came　out　with　a　slight　tremble　in　her　tone。
　　
　　'Sabat！'
　　
　　The　name　hit　her　like　a　rush　of　hot　air　bringing　an　immediate　flush　to　her　cheeks。　Those　legs　felt　even　weaker　and　her　heart　was　starting　to　pound。　So　this　was　the　guy　in　question！　She'd　imagined　him　to　be　some　kind　of　white…haired　fifteenth　century　witchfinder。　Instead。　。　。　。
　　
　　'e　in；　Sabat。'　Somehow　'mister'　seemed　out　of　place。
　　
　　Suddenly　it　was　as　though　she　had　lost　control　of　the　situation。　She　was　holding　the　door　wide　for　him　to　step　into　the　hall；　closing　it　after　him；　when　she　should　have　slammed　it　in　his　face　at　the　outset。
　　
　　'I'm　Lola；'　it　sounded　trite；　a　meaningless　introduction。
　　
　　'I　know。'　He　smiled　again。　'I　knew　I'd　find　you　here　but　all　the　same　I　wanted　to　have　a　word　with　Darren。'
　　
　　'He　won't　be　back　until　tomorrow。'
　　
　　'Oh；　I　see。'　Sabat　concealed　his　annoyance；　time　was　running　out。　April　29；　two　nights　until　the　deadline　set　by　the　Cult　of　the　Severed　Head。　Maybe　he　should　have　gone　for　the　bishop　first。　'I　realise　it　isn't　an　opportune　time　to　call；　in　view　of　recent　happenings。　。　。　。　'
　　
　　'Oh；　Darren's　okay；'　she　laughed。　'Would　you　like　a　drink？'
　　
　　'I　could　use　a　whisky　and　pep；'　he　followed　her　into　the　lounge；　noting　the　way　her　buttocks　wiggled。　It　was　natural；　not　put　on　for　his　benefit。　The　kind　of　woman　who　was　a　natural　turn…on。
　　
　　'Darren's　gone　to　London；'　she　handed　him　his　drink。　'A　Federation　meeting　or　something　boring　like　that。'
　　
　　'I　would've　thought　he'd've　had　more　fun　staying　at　home。'　Sabat　drew　her　gaze　again　and　her　eyes　told　him　everything　he　wanted　to　know。　Marion　Hurst　wasn't　a　bitter　bereavement　by　any　means。　The　Oke　Priests　had　got　the　builder　over　one　hurdle　but　there　were　even　bigger　ones　looming　up　ahead。
　　
　　Those　eyes；　Lola　decided；　were　like　dark　mysterious　pools　that　you　had　to　keep　gazing　into。　'Did　you　want　to　see　him　about　anything？　Anything　in　particular？'
　　
　　'As　a　matter　of　fact；　I　did；'　Sabat　spoke　slowly；　his　words　seeming　to　vibrate　on　Lola's　brain；　soothing　like　soft　background　music　after　a　few　gins。　'I　wanted　him　to　acpany　me　down　to　Wiltshire。　It's　very　important；　in　fact　his　deal　with　the　Church　over　this　proposed　tract　of　building　land　hinges　on　it！'
　　
　　She　nodded　slowly。　His　voice；　she　could　have　sat　there　and　listened　to　it　all　night。　Perhaps　she　would；　she　hoped　he　wasn't　in　a　hurry　to　leave。　If　only　she　could　think　of　some　way　of　detaining　him；　only　her　brain　did　not　seem　to　be　functioning　very　well。　She　smiled　vacantly；　aware　that　the　top　two　buttons　of　her　blouse　were　undone　and　his　eyes　were　fixed　on　her　cleavage。　Then　they　came　back　up　to　meet　her　own。
　　
　　'I'm　sure　we　could　all　go　down　to　Wiltshire　tomorrow　night；'　soothing　tones；　manding。　'You　could　e　down　with　Darren；　couldn't　you？'
　　
　　'Yes；'　she　was　eager；　her　heartbeat　speeding　up；　but　her　voice　sounded　so　lazy。　'Do　we　really　have　to　take　Darren；　though？　Couldn't　just　you　and　I　go；　Sabat？'
　　
　　'No；　I'm　afraid　not；'　he　shook　his　head　slowly；　never　for　one　moment　allowing　his　penetrating　gaze　to　waver　from　hers。　'Darren　must　e。　I'm　relying　on　you　to　see　that　he　does。　Do　you　understand；　Darren　must　e？'
　　
　　'l　。　。　。　understand；'　she　wanted　to　yawn；　his　words　repeating　themselves　inside　her　brain。　'Darren　must　e　。　。　。　Darren　must　e　。　。　。　must　e'。
　　
　　'Good；'　he　said。　'I　knew　I　could　rely　on　you。　I　will　give　you　more　detailed　instructions　before　I　leave　and　you　will　impress　upon　Darren　that　it　is　vital　he　acpanies　you　because　Bishop　Boyce　will　be　there　also；　and　if　the　two　of　them　do　not　meet　then　there　is　every　chance　that　the　St　Monica's　deal　will　fall　through。　Do　。　。　。　you　。　。　。　understand？'
　　
　　'Yes。'　Somehow　she　would　get　Darren　down　to　Wiltshire；　not　because　of　the　deal　but　because　Sabat　had　manded　her　to　do　so。　And　because　Sabat　would　be　there　too。
　　
　　'Good；'　he　had　taken　a　small　silver　crucifix　from　the　pocket　of　his　corduroy　jacket；　was　dangling　the　frail　chain　between　his　fingers；　allowing　it　to　swing　from　side　to　side　under　its　own　momentum；　the　light　flashing　on　it；　scintillating。　Backwards　。　。　。　forwards　。　。　。　backwards　。　。　。　forwards。　。　。　。
　　
　　Lola　felt　the　desire　for　sleep　but　her　eyes　would　not　close。　She　found　her　gaze　following　every　movement　of　that　tiny　cross。
　　
　　'You　haven't　shown　me　the　upstairs　yet；'　Sabat　was　smiling。　'Perhaps　you　would　like　to　take　me　on　a　conducted　tour。'
　　
　　She　stood　up　immediately。　Her　legs　still　felt　shaky　but　she　knew　that　she　must　do　as　this　man　had　manded。　She　turned；　could　still　feel　his　eyes　boring　into　her；　and　in　her　mind　she　again　saw　that　crucifix　going　to　and　fro。　。　。to　and　fro　。。。　to　and　fro。　。　。　。
　　
　　Sabat　was　aware　of　the　pelling　urge　inside　him　as　he　followed　Lola　up　the　stairs。　Her　tightly　fitting　clothes　showed　off　her　shapely　body；　those　buttocks　still　wiggled　alluringly。　This　was　one　time　he　expected　to　hear　Quentin；　a　deep　throaty　lusting　laugh；　but　his　brother's　soul　was　silent。　For　once　Mark　Sabat　was　in　plete　control。　Quentin