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cadence increasing. A sweet bolero for two dancers together, united as one in time and motion, the
escalating tempo matched by mounting exhilaration and anticipation. A handful more drumbeats, strong
tympanic strokes and the music was over, duettists spent, tired, blissful. A horizontal symphony, the music
of true love.
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Chapter Twelve
Dr. Stewart and Sergeant Cohen sat at the table in the prison visitors room, waiting for Rhodes to be
brought. Jonty felt he d never seen a more depressing place. The Chief Constable of Surrey had been so
appalled by the incompetence his officers had shown in the Lord Christopher Jardine investigation, he d
asked Scotland Yard to be brought in and had then insisted they draft in the men from Cambridge to see the
case to its conclusion.
Or so the sergeant gleefully informed Jonty, sotto voce.  And I got the impression the Chief Constable
secretly wishes that Mr. Wilson would grow disillusioned with life in Cambridge and move to somewhere
like Guildford. It s all highly irregular, of course, but if it means that the right man gets brought to
justice&  Cohen shrugged.  This case has been a bit close to home, hasn t it, sir? An avuncular smile lit
up his large, plain face.  Glad to see you looking a lot better now.
 Thank you, Mr. Cohen. Strange as it may seem, I ve developed a sort of peace these last few weeks
that I never imagined I d find.
The door opened and Rhodes escorted by two prison warders entered and sat down. His guards
prepared to stay, but Cohen spoke a word in their ears and, under protest, they left. The prisoner looked
tired yet calm. If he was frightened or troubled he gave no sign of it.  Dr. Stewart, we meet again. And this
is& ?
 Sergeant Cohen, of the Cambridgeshire Constabulary. He s here at the request of Surrey police.
Rhodes nodded, as if this made entire sense.  Mr. Cohen. May I help you gentlemen?
 I wish to clarify the matter of Timothy Taylor s death. Jonty fixed his adversary with a piercing
blue gaze.  I m entirely satisfied that you killed Jardine, and I know what motivated you, but I can t say the
same of the other death. Did you really murder Taylor?
 Do you doubt my word so much?
 You ve given me plenty of cause to do so in the past. Jonty s tense fingers drummed on the table.
 This time, to my astonishment, I think you ve been surprisingly honest. I ve looked at Dr. Coppersmith s
record of his conversation with you and I m not surprised at your adherence to the literal truth in what you
had to say. It was very clever. But then you always were a very intelligent man.
 And you don t think that I was careful in what I said to you?
 I ve gone over that too it seems a strange mixture of falsehood and truth. When you spoke of me or
Kermode I think you lied, time and again. You were never contrite, Mr. Rhodes, not over us. But when you
Charlie Cochrane
spoke of Nicholls I think you believed every word, even though I believe you were still far from the reality
of things. You were considering Nicholls all the time, making events appear favourable towards him.
 And? Rhodes seemed as if he d come to terms with the fact that he was likely to be hanged. No fear
or apprehension here, just the effect of someone playing cat and mouse.
 I believe that you were still covering for him when you confessed to killing Taylor. Do you believe
in ghosts, Mr. Rhodes? Jonty remembered the butterflies he d seen in a museum as a child. Pinned to the
card, trapped and preserved forever because of their beauty. Was he pinning his tormentor in his guilt, as
the housemaster had tried to capture Nicholls?
The other man turned as pale as the ghosts they were discussing.  I I beg your pardon?
 I believe you heard me aright the first time. Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever seen one?
 Who told you? Rhodes s eyes were welling with tears. The sergeant bluff, bull-like, unexpectedly
kind Cohen handed him a handkerchief.
 You did. You intimated it to my friend Dr. Coppersmith. And when you saw Simon Kermode
emerging from Taylor s house you thought it was the ghost of Andrew Nicholls. They really are very
alike.
 Kermode? The name seems familiar& 
 It was the other boy, the one they used before me. He had been to see Taylor and you thought it was
Nicholls come to take vengeance for all of us. Especially when you found Taylor dead.
 There was blood everywhere. It was like a scene from a biblical painting the slaughter of the
innocents or the striking down of some army in the book of Judges. And I had seen the avenging angel
who d come with his sword to do the deed. Rhodes bore a beatific look again, just like when he d
confessed to the crime.
 It was no angel. Just another one of your victims, armed with a poker and a burden of fury. Jonty
felt like an archangel himself, bright with righteous anger.  I don t know why he struck down his abuser at
that particular point, although I can guess. But it was Kermode and not Nicholls who did the deed, so you
don t need to take the blame for him any more. He was innocent of this.
 Is that true? Was it really this other boy? Not my Andrew? Rhodes s excitement, his shining eyes
and shaking hands, startled his interrogators.
 It is. It was. Jonty had no proof of what he said, not yet, but Orlando believed it, which was good
enough.
 Then please tell your superior officers, Rhodes addressed Cohen for the first time,  that I withdraw
my confession to the second crime. I will, however, stand by my acknowledgement of the first.
 Might I ask a question at this point? It seemed odd that the sergeant had to seek permission of Jonty
but in the circumstances it felt right for them both.
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