“As soon as I can.”

Dillon had parked outside St. Paul’s Church, around the corner from Harley Street, for a reason. The priest in charge was a professor of psychiatry at London University, and was much used by people operating for Ferguson who experienced mental problems. This had applied to Dillon on occasion.

He went up the steps to the entrance and entered through the small Judas gate. There was a smell of incense, candles flaring beside a statue of the Virgin and Child, a feeling of being apart, separate from everyday life, the sound of traffic outside very remote. It reminded Dillon of the church of his childhood, in County Down, which was hardly surprising, for St. Paul’s Church was Anglo-Catholic, the oldest branch of the Church of England. However, it moved with the times enough to allow priests to marry and to allow a woman priest, and there she was now, a pleasant, calm woman in cassock and clerical collar who had just opened the door of the vestry and was ushering a young woman inside.

She turned and there was immediate concern on her face. “Sean?” she said, then turned to the young woman. “Go in for me, Mary. Put the kettle on.” She closed the door and said anxiously, “Is it Hannah? She’s not…”

“No.” Dillon put a hand up in a strangely defensive gesture. “Very poorly, but not that. The brain’s been cleared, so she’s been returned to Rosedene, but she’s not good. Bellamy’s worried about the cumulative effect of all her injuries in the past few years. It seems her heart’s not as it should be, but then, you’d expect that.”

She embraced him, holding him tight for a moment. “My dearest Sean. You want to see me?”

“As a psychiatrist or as a priest? God knows. Isn’t it what the truly wicked of this world do? Try and cover their backs?” His smile was cold and bleak. “Anyway, you’re busy. Perhaps another time.”

He walked to the great door and opened the small Judas gate. “It’s appropriate, don’t you think, especially for someone like me? Judas was a political terrorist called a Zealot, and my branch of the great game was the IRA.”