‘OK, Guy,’ Kyle spoke into the phone. ‘Let’s have it.’
‘Right,’ said Roberts. ‘It’s just about four A.M. here. Now go back two hours . . .‘ He told Kyle the entire story, then detailed the action he’d taken since Clarke’s hag-ridden drive back to the hotel in Paignton.
‘I got Ken Layard in on it. He was great. He fixed Keen’s location somewhere on the road between Brixham and Newton Abbot. Keen and his car, smashed up, burned out. I scried out Layard’s fix and he was right, of course; we were able to say quite definitely that Peter was that he was dead.
‘I contacted the police in Paignton, told them I was waiting for a friend who was a little overdue, gave them his name, description, a description of his car. They said there’d been an accident; he was being cut out of the car; they could tell me no more, but an ambulance was on the scene and the driver of the car would be taken to the emergency hospital in Torquay. For me that was a ten minute drive. I was there when he was brought in. I identified him. . .‘ He paused.
‘Go on,’ said Kyle, knowing there must be worse to come.
‘Alec, I feel responsible. We should have been tighter. The trouble with this game is that we rely on our talents too damned much! We’ve almost forgotten how to use simple technology. We should have had walkie-talkies, better contact. We should have given this damned monster more credit for mayhem! I mean, Christ, how could I let this happen? We’re espers; we have special talents; Bodescu is only one man and we’re —‘
‘He’s not just a man!’ Kyle snapped. ‘And we don’t have a monopoly on talent. He has it, too. It’s not your fault. Now please tell me the rest of it.’
‘He . . . Peter was . . . hell, he didn’t get those injuries in any car smash! He’d been opened up . . . gutted! Everything was exposed. His head was. . . God, it was in two halves!’
Despite the horror conjured by Roberts’s description, Kyle tried to think dispassionately. He’d known Peter Keen well and liked him. But now he must put that aside and think only of the job. ‘Why the car smash? What did that bastard hope to get out of it?’
‘The way I see it,’ Roberts answered, ‘he was just covering up the murder, and what he’d done to Peter’s poor body. The police said there was a strong petrol smell all around and inside the car. I reckon Bodescu drove Peter out there, put the car in top gear, pointed it downhiIl and let it roll. Being what he is, a few grazes and cuts wouldn’t matter much when he jumped for it. And he probably splashed a lot of petrol around inside the car first, so as to bum the evidence. But the way he’d cut that poor lad up was . . . Jesus, it was horrible! I mean, why? Peter must have been dead long before that ghoul was finished. If he was torturing him at least there’d be some sense in it. I mean, however horrible, at least I could understand it. But you can’t learn anything from a dead man, now can you?’
Kyle almost dropped the telephone. ‘Oh, my God!’ he whispered.
‘Eh?’
Kyle said nothing, stood frozen in sudden shock.
‘Alec?’
‘Yes you can,’ Kyle finally answered. ‘You can learn an awful lot from a dead man — everything, in fact if you’re a necromancer!’
Roberts had had access to the Keogh file. Now it all came back to mind and he saw Kyle’s meaning. ‘You mean like Dragosani?’
‘I mean exactly like Dragosani!’
Quint had caught most of this. ‘Good Lord!’ He grabbed Kyle’s elbow. ‘He knows all about us. He knows —‘
‘Everything!’ Kyle said, to Quint and to Roberts. ‘He knows the lot. He dragged it out of Keen’s guts, out of his brains, his blood, his poor violated organs! Guy, now listen, this is important. Did Keen know when you plan to move in on Harkley House?’