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And Sabat； too。 That name again； unable to get it off her mind in her final hour； like a chant that went on and on； driving her to madness。
Sabat。 。 。 Sabat。 。 。 Sabat must die； too。
She experienced a falling sensation； sparks and flames leaping to claim her； her dress burning away so that her charred nakedness was revealed for the gods to feast their hungry eyes upon。 Seeing faces in the fire； some she recognised； others she didn't； and as she slipped towards that cool black bottomless abyss her burned and blistered lips were mouthing one word over and over again； an indoctrination by the ancient priests which she would take down into the Pit with her as though calling an unknown man to follow her there。 'Sabat 。 。 。 Sabat 。 。 。 Sabat。
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THERE'S BEEN another killing on the ground adjoining the cemetery；' Detective…Inspector Groome made the announcement as casually as if he had been repeating some event which he had read in a newspaper and which might possibly be of some interest to those around him。 Yet his small eyes missed nothing； constantly searching out the two men who faced him； watching for a sign； anything。
Sabat's expression was negative； registering neither surprise nor guilt。 His stomach churned； his heart flipped once； but there was no outward sign of emotion。 And he did not have to glance at Kent to know that his panion's expression would be equally as stoic。 They had both been well trained by the SAS；
'A killing； Inspector？' Sabat found it impossible to believe that the detectives could have found Sheenah's body 'buried' in that century…old tomb with the cracked headstone which it had taken their bined strength to raise。 All evidence of her death had been removed and in due course she would be listed as yet another missing person。 Only the two ex…SAS men would know the truth； and； of course； that skeleton whose lasting resting place they had disturbed； but possibly he would be glad of female pany after so many years alone。
'Identical to the curate； Sabat；' Groome's eyes never left the other's。 'Burned to a cinder as surely as if a thunderbolt had e out of the blue and incinerated her。'
'Her？'
'Yes。 A woman by the name of Marion Hurst； wife of one Darren Hurst。 。 。 。 '
Now Sabat did show surprise； eyes widening； his cheek scar seemed to stand out starkly； throbbing。
'The name is obviously familiar to you；〃 the officer smiled mirthlessly。
'Her husband's is；' Sabat replied。 'He's the guy who is 。。。 buying that tract of land to build houses on。'
'Which can have no possible bearing on the killing；' Groome said。 'Not at this stage； anyway。 She drove herself there。 Alone。 Maybe she had a rendezvous。 If she did； then we want to know with whom because that person could be the murderer。 Also we'd like to know how he manages to cremate his victims without leaving traces of a fire other than on the corpse itself。'
I could explain but you'd have me certified as a nutter； Sabat thought。
'I understand the Church has employed you in the capacity of an exorcist；' there was a slight sneer in the policeman's tone。 'That； of course； is their business 。 。 。 and yours。 I cannot prevent you conducting your own type of enquiries but I'll be grateful if you will keep out of the church and its grounds until the CID have finished their investigations。 We shall be maintaining a twenty…four…hour vigil on the premises until further notice。'
'In other words we've got to mind our own fucking business；' Sabat came back into the room after seeing the detective out。 'Well； Kent； it'll be interesting to see how the police fare against a powerful psychic enemy！'
'And what do we do in the meantime？'
'In the meantime we shall devote our time to tracking down mortal foes；' Sabat smiled。 'Whatever we try to do at the church we shall not be achieving anything。 The evil is aroused there because of what mortals are attempting to do。 Therefore we must remove the cause； which means we must attempt to kill the cancer； the corruption which is at the root of it all。'
'In other words we're going to pay this bishop a visit？'
'Not at the moment。 Assuming that we have our facts right； the bishop is the main bloodsucking leech but without a crooked planning officer and a builder willing to e in on the deal he couldn't have got the scheme off the ground in the first place。 Doubtless all evidence has been removed from the planning offices so we'd just be wasting our time searching them。 Cash will change hands in due course without a trace but maybe there's some document somewhere which could convict the guilty if it fell into the wrong hands。 Stone is the most likely。 I'm thinking that if maybe there was some kind of agreement drawn up； and you can't trust bishops or builders to give a backhander just on the strength of a handshake； then Waiter Stone will have it at his house。'
'I've always fancied having a crack at burglary；' Kent smiled wryly。
'I don't need to tell you the basic risks；' Sabat pulled out his meerschaum and began stuffing tobacco into the bowl。 'If Groome and his men pick us up then we'll do a spell in gaol。 But there's a greater danger … we have to wait for nightfall and we can only hazard a guess at the forces which will be abroad after dark。 You and I could sit it out in a pentagram and be reasonably safe。 Out there； I can only use limited protective methods。 They may not be enough。'
'I guess I'm in this too deep to back out；' Kent stretched and yawned。 'And I'm damned if I'm stopping in on my own； worrying myself about what the hell you're up to； Sabat； and that maybe the next time I set eyes on you you'll resemble a piece of steak that got left too long under the grill。'
'Thank you；' Sabat regarded the other through a haze of tobacco smoke and knew that he had not misjudged his man。 'Stone's place is our target tonight； then。 There's just one thing that worries me； though。 You can't remember anything about what happened from the time this guy engaged you in conversation in the pub until I drove that evil entity out of you。 But you do remember what this fellow looked like and before we set out tonight I think we should try and see if there's any way in which we can find out who he was。 The dark powers can use any form they choose but just suppose this wasn't one of the ancient druids in human form but a more recent astral projection。 We'll snatch a few hours sleep and then I think it may well be worth making a few enquiries before we pay Mr Stone a visit。'
Kent closed his eyes； stretched himself out in the armchair。 Sabat was talking in riddles but he had enough faith in his panion just to tag along。 And as a confirmed atheist he wasn't going to think too much about the dangers that lay beyond the realms of his mortal existence。 That was Sabat's worry。
Walter Stone had been a very uneasy man for the past three months。 Now with the news of Marion Hurst's death he was almost frantic with fear。
At fifty…one he had resigned himself to remaining a bachelor for the rest of his days。 He was too set in his ways； anyway； to have his routine disrupted by the intrusion of a female upon his household。 He had a prominent position in the town； manded respect； even fear at times； because he had the power to sway the planning mittee at their monthly sessions。 He received frequent subversive presents； they weren't bribes； he made that quite clear； but always said that he would do his best when certain plans came up before him。 He usually managed something； if only a promise。
He'd told both Bishop Boyce and Darren Hurst that in the beginning when a case of whisky had been dropped off at his house one night by the palace chauffeur。 He didn't hold out much hope； though； he explained to Boyce the next day； because green…belt was sacrosanct。
Then Hurst had invited him round that evening； but when Stone arrived he discovered that the builder had had to go off on an urgent call。 And there was no harm in enjoying a drink with the latter's wife in the meantime。
Just thinking about how it had all turned out never failed to give Walter Stone an erection。 It had been the most mind…blowing experience of his almost virginal existence。 More exciting even than his first time when he'd picked up a prostitute in town late one Saturday night。 The unexpectedness of it all left him breathless even now。 What could an attractive woman ten years younger than himself have seen in him？ Nothing； except that it had served the Hurst's purpose to lure him upstairs。 He tried to tell himself that she couldn't have gone that far if she didn't feel something for him。
Hurst hadn't even been angry when he'd walked into the bedroom。 In fact； he'd apologised and made a discreet withdrawal； even had a drink poured out for the two of them when they came downstairs。 If only the builder had ranted and raved； threatened violence or maybe hinted at making a plaint to the Planning mittee； but he hadn't even mentioned the promising situation。 The only thing h