Despite Adam's bland tone and the ambiguity of his words, Peregrine experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, for urgency was there as well. And the thought of witnessing an autopsy -
"Oh, I'm sure she'll mind," he said gamely, "but I think she'll understand. I already have some explaining to do. We'd planned to do some browsing in Princes' Square, but I expect she won't object too strongly to being left to shop on her own. She did say something about wanting to surprise me with something she'd glimpsed in the window of an antique shop we passed on our way through the city center." "Do whatever you have to do to buy yourself a temporary leave of absence," Adam said with a chuckle. "For my own part, by way of making amends, perhaps you'll allow me to take the pair of you to dinner tonight. What would you say to a meal at the Colonial?"
Peregrine grinned. The Colonial was a Glasgow fixture, with a reputation for serving fine Indian food.
"I expect that would be more than adequate compensation," he said, "provided she's still speaking to me. I just hope I'll be in a fit state to do justice to the menu. I've never attended a - ah - an examination like this before."
"I have every confidence in your fortitude," Adam said bracingly. "Now, about rendezvousing - Noel and I are still a good half hour out of Glasgow, and the noontime traffic will be heavy, once we get off the motorway. Why don't we aim to collect you outside the main entrance to the Central Railway Station round about half past one? We're in Noel's BMW."
"Right you are," Peregrine said. "See you then."
Having rung off, he stood for a moment with his hand on the receiver, collecting his thoughts, then made his way into the pub, where he soon spotted Julia ensconced at a table in a back corner. She was shifting through the photos and sipping at a half-pint. Another half-pint was set at the place across from her. She looked up as he slid into the seat.
"Did you reach him?" she asked.
"Aye." He took a long pull at his Smithwick's, then set it aside. ' 'Listen, did you really mean it last night when you said you wouldn't mind giving me the slip for a little while today, in order to do some shopping for my birthday?"
"They want you, don't they?" she replied, question in her blue eyes. "Peregrine, what is going on? You promised you'd explain."
"So I did - and I shall," he said with a nod, mentally crossing his fingers against the things he could not explain. "The photos have some - details - that may be useful for the police investigation in progress. Adam's with Noel. They're on their way to the post-mortem on the man we found. It's at two this afternoon, up in Dumbarton. They'd like me to join them."
Briefly he outlined the rendezvous arrangements he had made with Adam, after which there was an awkward pause.
"Well, that sounds straightforward enough," Julia finally said. "I suppose you'd better go."
Peregrine eyed his wife uncertainly. "You really don't mind?"
Julia shrugged. "I'd prefer to have your company, of course, but I daresay I'll manage. Do you have time for a bite of lunch first? I've already ordered us steak and kidney pie."
Peregrine glanced down at his watch. It was ten minutes past noon. "It'll have to be fairly quick."
Even as he said it, a waitress appeared with their lunch, plunking down plates replete with generous servings of tender-crusted steak and kidney pie with roast potatoes, chips, and peas.
"Quick enough?" Julia said with a droll grin, when the waitress had departed. "I expected something like this might happen."
They began eating in silence, but after a few token mouth-fuls Peregrine discovered he had no appetite for food. When he had pushed the peas around on his plate for several minutes, Julia reached over and laid a hand on his wrist.
"Will you please stop playing with your food?" she murmured, not unkindly. "If this isn't what you wanted, there's still time for you to get something else."
Peregrine shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "I guess I'm just not hungry," he murmured.
Julia studied his face for a moment, her own expression one of mingled sympathy and exasperation. "I can see you're not exactly thrilled about this autopsy thing," she observed. "Why don't you bow out?"
Peregrine shook his head again. "I can't."
"Why not? It isn't as if your presence is vitally necessary. What would they have done if you hadn't called just when you did? You're an artist, not a forensics expert. What could you possibly be expected to contribute?"
"I won't know until I get there," he said quietly.
Julia subjected him to a long, searching look. "In other words, you're going to wait and see."
Peregrine looked up at her sharply. "I'm not sure I follow you."
"I'm not sure I know where I'm going," Julia admitted readily. "Probably somewhere out of my depth. But I haven't been engaged to you for more than a year without noticing how often Noel McLeod calls on you and Adam to lend a hand in his police work - even though the police have their own forensic artists on staff, and Adam has more than enough to do in his psychiatric practice without taking on any extra commissions from outside."
She gazed down at her plate, poking at a bit of crust. "More and more often, I find myself wondering what it is that binds the three of you so inextricably together. Oh, I know you're friends," she went on, "but even if you weren't, somehow I sense that this bond - whatever it is - would still exist."
Peregrine felt his jaw drop.
"This same quality that you have in common with one other," Julia continued thoughtfully, "seems to set you apart from everyone else in your professions. Maybe it's just the fact that each of you is exceptionally gifted at what he does. But it seems to have more to do with the way you use your individual gifts to help each other in your respective pursuits. Whenever you work together, you're like a well-rehearsed team - as if all your actions were dictated by some underlying goal or purpose. It's - " She shook her head. "I don't know how to ask this. Do - do the three of you perhaps belong to some sort of - of fraternal organization or secret society, maybe something like the Masons, but - help me, darling. I don't know exactly what I'm trying to ask, but I know there's something going on here."
Chapter Seventeen
PEREGRINE stared at his wife, hardly knowing what to say. Her speculations were disconcertingly close to the mark. An outright denial was out of the question; as his wife, Julia was entitled to his honesty. At the same time, he was uncertain how much of the truth Adam would countenance his telling her - or how much she would understand.
"I can't imagine what you mean," he said awkwardly. "We're certainly very good friends and professional colleagues. This bond you're alluding to may simply be the fact that we share many of the same… interests."
"Such as?"
Once again Peregrine found himself groping for an answer.
"Well - all manner of things," he said lamely, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt. "History, antiques, objects d'art…"
As his voice trailed off, Julia gave him a dubious look.
"I suppose that's true enough," she said quietly. "Only I get the distinct feeling that for you, pursuing these interests is practically a vocation."
Peregrine gave a hollow laugh. "I suppose that being an artist does constitute a vocation - something you're called to do, as opposed to something you just do to make a living."
"No, it isn't just that," Julia said. "I know the difference between inspiration and - fascination, fixation. For instance, when we were going through the museum this morning, you stopped just outside one of those reconstructed gothic arches, and your eyes went all funny - sort of wide and vacant, but at the same time penetrating - as if you were looking at something far, far away."