Peregrine stared at the photos, hardly knowing what to make of them. Had the monk-image been confined to a single frame, he might have been able to convince himself that it was nothing more than a freakish trick of the light. As it was, that possibility was negated by the fact that parts of the mysterious secondary figure were present in all three of the shots he had taken. Conscious of a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he began seeking other possible explanations. Was it possible that his film had registered the presence of a ghost? If so, the likeness ought to have been that of the dead man himself, not some mysterious robed figure.
The resonance of some other past life of the dead man, then? Peregrine thought that equally improbable. While it was true that he had glimpsed ghostly reflections of other past identities in Adam and some of his fellow Huntsmen, those residual images had always been subordinate to the personality of the present day. Even in the days before Adam had begun teaching him to control his Sight, he had never known such resonances to linger after death - and the man in the water surely had been dead for several days, at least. Besides that, the more he studied the photos, the more convinced he became that there was something sinister about the secondary figure in the pictures. Vainly he peered and squinted, even borrowing a magnifying lens from the shop owner, trying to discern what the strange monk might be holding in his hands - but he could not identify it.
Failure left him more convinced than ever that he had inadvertently stumbled across something that was going to demand further investigation. He considered asking to use the phone, but decided to wait and ring Adam from wherever he and Julia ended up having lunch.
"Listen, can you do enlargements in an hour, or do they need to be sent out?'' he asked.
The man shrugged. "I usually send them out, but I can do them here. It'll cost you double, though."
"That's fine," Peregrine said. He slipped the innocuous honeymoon photos back into the envelope and pulled out the negatives, which he laid on the counter beside the three photos in question. "How much for eight-by-tens?"
"For the three? Say, fifteen pounds," the man said, raising an eyebrow as he picked up the negatives and glanced at the photos.
"They're some trick shots I've put together for a photography class," Peregrine explained, suddenly aware how odd the photos might appear to a casual viewer. "I do need them back in an hour, though."
"They'll be ready," the proprietor assured him.
Outside, the Alvis was still where he had left it.
"No sign of any wardens," Julia announced cheerfully from the driver's seat, as he slid in beside her. "Where to now?''
Peregrine tossed the photos on the dash and took a moment to do up his seat belt.
"Lunch, I think," he said distractedly. "And I need to make a phone call. How about that pub we passed while we were orbiting, just up the street?''
"All right." She slipped the car into gear with a sidelong glance at him, released the brake, and eased out into traffic. "I do hope I'm going to get to see the photos that have gotten you all in a tizzy."
He glanced at her sharply, then returned his gaze to the pub coming up ahead of them.
"Not right now, I'm afraid," he murmured. "I left them in for enlargements."
"After lunch, then?"
"I don't know." He gestured toward the entrance to a car park just beyond the pub. "Put the car in there."
She parked the car in silence, refraining from further comment as they got out, though she did retrieve the envelope of photos from the dash.
"Sorry I barked at you," he murmured, already looking distractedly for the phone as they went in. "Listen, why don't you get us a table, and I'll join you in a few minutes. I promise I'll explain then. Meanwhile, you can order me a half of Smithwick's while you look at those."
The telephone was in a cubicle between the doors to the men's and women's toilets. Closing the door behind him, Peregrine fished in his pocket for change and soon had dialled Adam's number.
"Strathmourne Manor," said a self-effacing voice from the other end of the line.
"Hello, Humphrey, this is Peregrine. I'm ringing from Glasgow. If Sir Adam is in, I'd very much like a word with him."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Lovat, but Sir Adam has gone out for the day. I believe he planned to be at the hospital all morning, but he neglected to mention where he might be going after that."
Which suggested that Adam's plans for the afternoon had been in a state of flux. Peregrine suppressed a sigh of frustration.
"That's all right, Humphrey. I'll check with Inspector McLeod and see if he has any idea. If Sir Adam should happen to check in with you later, I'd be obliged if you'd let him know I'm trying to reach him."
"I'll certainly do that, sir."
"Thank you, and goodbye."
He had to look up McLeod's number at police headquarters. Here his call was received by McLeod's aide, Donald Cochrane, who seemed mildly surprised to learn who was phoning.
"Mr. Lovat? Congratulations on your wedding! No, the inspector's not here. He left about half an hour ago, along with Dr. Sinclair."
"Do you know where they went?"
"Aye, they're heading over to Dumbarton, to attend the post-mortem on that bloke you and your wife found washed up on the beach at Kintyre. It isn't due to begin before two o'clock, so I don't imagine they'll be back till late."
This was all news to Peregrine - and suggested that McLeod and Adam had, indeed, found cause to check further on the body Peregrine had found.
"I see," he murmured. "Do you know if Inspector McLeod took his cell phone with him?"
"He usually does. You could certainly try to reach him. Shall I give you the number?"
"No, thanks, I've got it."
"Well, then, you ought to be able to get through to him in the car, no bother."
Cochrane's prediction proved accurate. Scarcely had Peregrine dialled than he heard a responding click, and a familiar gruff voice saying, "McLeod here."
"Hullo, Noel. It's Peregrine."
"Peregrine? Good Lord! Where are you calling from?"
"From a pub in downtown Glasgow," Peregrine replied. ' 'Listen, something else odd has come up, and I need to talk with Adam. Donald told me he might be with you."
"And so he is," McLeod replied. "Hang on and I'll hand you to him."
The next voice Peregrine heard was Adam's. "What's up, Peregrine?"
"Trouble, I think," Peregrine said, mindful of the need to be discreet. "I've just picked up a set of photos including some shots I took over in Kintyre. I thought you might be interested to know that the results were - rather extraordinary."
"Indeed?" Adam's voice took on a slight edge. "Can you tell me in what way?"
"They - ah - showed up what I was trying to draw. I think you ought to see them - perhaps before this afternoon's appointment. I'm having enlargements printed, and they'll be ready in an hour."
"I see," Adam said, after a brief silence. "You said you're calling from Glasgow?"
"That's right," Peregrine acknowledged. "Shall I try to meet you somewhere?"
"I think so," Adam said. "In fact, I wonder… Hold on a minute, would you?"
The sound went muffled for a moment, as if Adam had put his hand over the mouthpiece to consult with McLeod; then came on again, a note of apology in his voice.
"Listen, I hate do this to you, but do you think Julia would mind letting you out on loan for a few hours? I think it might be a good idea if you brought your sketchbox along to this afternoon's venture, if you can possibly manage it."