Chapter 26
CONJURER’S STORESThe undertaker pulled up the moment he saw the danger. The road was too narrow for him to hope to turn and he made a virtue of the circumstance. He let the mare stand gratefully, the steam rising up from her flanks into the rain. From the high box he looked down inquiringly, water running in streams from the brim of his hard hat.
‘Why, it’s Mr Luke.’ He sounded both friendly and surprised. ‘Terrible night, sir. Your car hasn’t broken down, I hope.’
Luke took the mare’s head.
‘Get down, Bowels. Come on, right down into the road.’
‘Why certainly, if you say the word, sir.’ He managed to convey complete mystification and began at once to unwrap himself from the various layers of oilskin which swaddled him.
Campion, who had gone round quietly on the outside,
