“I confess to Almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters,” said Father da Costa, `that I have sinned through my own fault.”
He struck his breast and Meehan joined in enthusiastically, asking blessed Mary ever Virgin, all the angels and saints and the rest of the congregation to pray for him to the Lord our God.
As they all stood for the next hymn it suddenly struck him, with something like surprise, that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
As the Cooper went over a humped-back bridge, Fallon, who had been sitting with his head forward on his chest, sat up with a start.
“Are you all right?” Jenny asked him anxiously.
Tm fine,” he said and his voice was calm and perfectly controlled.
He touched his right arm gingerly. The shock effects were wearing off now and it was beginning to hurt like hell. He winced and Jenny noticed at once.
“I think I should take you straight to the Infirmary.”
He ignored the remark and turned to look at the child who lay on the back seat, still in her drugged sleep, wrapped in the blanket in which Jenny had carried from the mill.
“She’s a nice kid,” he said.
The road was dangerous now in the heavy rain as darkness fell and needed ail her attention, yet there was something in his voice that caused her to glance warily at him.
He lit a cigarette one-handed and leaned back against the seat. Td like you to know something,” he said. “What Dormer said back there about me being bomb-happy wasn’t true. Those kids in that school bus – it was an accident. They walked into an ambush we’d laid for a Saracen armoured car. It was a mistake.”
He hammered his clenched fist against his right knee in a kind of frenzy.
“I know,” Jenny told him. “I understand.”
“That’s good, that’s marvellous,” he said. “Because I never have.”
The agony in his voice was more than she could bear and she concentrated on the road, tears in her eyes.
As the congregation moved out, Anna continued to play and Father da Costa went into the sacristy with the acolytes. He took off his cope as the boys got out of their cassocks and into their street clothes. He saw them out of the side door, bidding each one of them good night.
Anna was still playing, something more powerful now, which meant that the last of the congregation had left. She always seemed to sense that moment. It was Bach again from the sound of it. The piece Fallon had played. She stopped abruptly. Father da Costa paused in the act of pulling off his alb and waited, but she did not start playing again. He frowned, opened the sacristy door and went into the church.
Anna was standing at the altar rail and Jack Meehan was holding her firmly by the arm. Father da Costa took an angry step forward and Bonati moved from behind a pillar holding a Luger in his left hand.
It stopped Father da Costa dead in his tracks and Meehan smiled. “That’s better. Now we’re all going to take a little ride in the cage up to the catwalk. There’s only room for two at a time so we’ll have to split up. I’ll stick with the girl, you go with Bonati, Father, and remember one thing. Anything you try that’s the slightest bit out of turn will be reflected in the girl’s treatment, so keep your hands to yourself and don’t try any rough stuff.”
“All right, Mr. Meehan,” Father da Costa said. “What do you want with me?”
“All in good time.” Meehan pushed Anna across to the hoist, opened the cage door and followed her inside. As they started to rise he looked out at Father da Costa. “Remember what I told you,” he said. “So don’t try anything funny.”
Father da Costa waited, the black, killing rage in him again and he fought to control it. What on earth did the man want? What was it all about? When the hoist descended again, he rushed inside eagerly and Bonati followed him and pressed the button.
When it jolted to a halt, Father da Costa opened the gate at once and stepped out. Meehan had switched the light on and the boards of the catwalk, wet with rain, glistened in the darkness.