An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears

Author:Iain Pears
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: det_history
Published: 2011-04-10T15:39:26+00:00

15

I waited until the morning was well advanced, spending my time observing the house unseen to see how many people there were and what might be my best means of escape should that be necessary. Then, my heart thudding in my chest, I prepared myself, walked up to the door and knocked. It was pleasantly warm in the hallway, which was surprisingly far from opulent. I knew, of course, that Thurloe had made himself as rich as Croesus during his years of power as Cromwell’s henchman and was disconcerted to see him in such modest accommodation. I only saw one servant in all the time I was there, and although the house was comfortable, it was not of the size and splendor I expected. But I assumed that this was another example of the arrogant humility of the Puritans, who make such a show of their piety and disdain for worldly possessions. Personally, I always detested them for that, grabbing with one hand and praying with the other. It is the duty of men of rank to live in a suitable state, even if they have no inclination.

The servant, an old fellow who blinked like an owl brought suddenly into the light, told me that his master was busy at his books, and that I should wait in the main parlor. Mr. Thurloe would be glad of a visitor to divert him, he said. Not this one, I thought to myself as I followed his instructions and walked in the commodious, warm room at the eastern end of the house. Not this one.

He came in a few minutes later, a gaunt man with long, thin hair around a high-domed forehead. His skin was pale, almost translucent and, apart from heavy lines around his eyes, he seemed younger than I knew he must be. Now I knew what had transpired, and how he had manipulated men, good and bad, to his will, I was half minded simply to run him through then and there, without wasting further time. He’d find out who his assailant was soon enough, I thought, when the flames began to lick around his soul.

I was determined, but felt my resolution ebb with every step he took toward me. For months now, lying awake at night, I had imagined myself whipping out my father’s sword and thrusting it into his heart, intoning some suitable words as he expired with a look of cowardly terror on his face, crying for mercy, slobbering with fear, while I stood implacable over him. I had no sword, but Grove’s knife would do as well.

Easy to imagine, harder to accomplish. Killing a man in battle when the blood is hot is one thing; dispatching one in a peaceful parlor, with the fire crackling comfortably in the grate and the smell of burning apple logs in the air, is quite another. Doubt assailed me for the first time—Would killing a man unable to defend himself not suddenly lower me to his level? Would not

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.