lance from them might have ignited tinder。
〃If you stay with me…if you keep me safe…there's nothing you can't be or have。 Understand me？ Nothing。〃 This was not the first time the old man had offered this seduction； but circumstances had clearly changed since Marty first arrived at the Sanctuary。 There was more at risk now。 〃What's the worst that can happen？〃 he asked。
The mazed face had slackened： only the incendiary eyes still showed life。
〃The worst？〃 Whitehead said。 〃Who knows the worst？〃 The burning eyes seemed about to be extinguished by tears； he fought them。 〃I have seen such things。 And passed by them on the other side。 Never thought 。 。 。 not once 。 。 。〃 A pattering announced rain； its soft percussion acpanied Whitehead as he stumbled to speak。 All his verbal skills had deserted him suddenly； he was bereft。 But something…a vast something…demanded to be said。
〃Never thought 。 。 。 it would ever happen to me。〃 He bit back more words； and shook his head at his own absurdity。
〃Will you help me？〃 he asked； in place of further explanation。
〃Of course。〃 〃Well；〃 he replied。 〃We'll see； eh？〃 Without warning he suddenly stepped past Marty and returned the way they'd e。 The jaunt was apparently over。 For several minutes they walked as they had； Whitehead taking the lead； with Marty trailing a discreet two yards behind。 Just before they came in sight of the house Whitehead spoke again。 This time he didn't break the rhythm of his step； but threw the inquiry over his shoulder。 Just four words。
〃And the Devil； Marty？〃 〃What； sir？〃 〃The Devil。 Did you ever pray to him？〃 It was a joke。 A little leaden maybe； but the old man's way of making light of his confessional。
〃Well； did you？〃 〃Once or twice；〃 Marty answered； skirting a smile。 As the words left his lips Whitehead froze dead in his tracks； a hand outstretched behind him to check Marty。
〃Ssh。〃 Twenty yards ahead； arrested as it crossed their path； was a fox。 It hadn't seen its observers yet； but it could only be a matter of moments before their scent reached its nostrils。
〃Which way？〃 Whitehead hissed。
〃What？〃 〃Which way will it run？ A thousand pounds。 Straight bet。〃 〃I haven't got…〃 Marty began。
〃Against a week's pay。〃 Marty began to smile。 What was a week's pay？ He couldn't spend it anyway。
〃A thousand pounds says it runs to the right；〃 said Whitehead。
Marty hesitated。
〃Quickly； man…〃 〃Done。〃 Even on the word； the animal caught their scent。 Its ears pricked； its head turned； and it saw them。 For an instant it was too stupefied by surprise to move； then it ran。 For several yards it took off away from them along the path； not veering to one side or the other； its heels kicking up dead leaves as it went。 Then； without warning； it sliced away into the cover of the trees； to the left。 There was no ambiguity about the victory。
〃Well done；〃 said Whitehead； pulling off his glove and extending his hand to Marty。 When he shook it； Marty felt it tingle like the chips had on a winning night。
By the time they got back； the rain was beginning to e on more heavily。 A wele hush had descended on the house。 Apparently Pearl； unable to bear the barbarians in her kitchen any longer； had thrown a fit and left。 Though she'd gone； the offending parties seemed well chastened。 Their babble was reduced to a murmur； and few of them made any approach to Whitehead as he entered。 Those few that did were quickly slapped down。 〃Are you still here； Munrow？〃 he said to one devotee； to another； who made the error of thrusting a sheaf of papers at him； he quietly suggested the man 〃choke on them。〃 They reached the study with the minimum of interruptions。 Whitehead unlocked the wall safe。
〃You would prefer cash； I'm sure。〃 Marty studied the carpet。 Though he'd won the bet fairly； he was embarrassed by the payoff。
〃Cash is fine；〃 he murmured。
Whitehead counted out a wad of twenty…pound notes and handed them across。
〃Enjoy；〃 he said。
〃Thank you。〃 〃Don't thank me；〃 Whitehead said。 〃It was a straight bet。 I lost。〃 An awkward silence fell while Marty pocketed the money。
〃Our talk 。 。 。〃 the old man said； 〃。 。 。 is in the strictest confidence； you understand？〃 〃Of course。 I wouldn't…〃 Whitehead raised his hand to ward off his protestations。
〃…The strictest confidence。 My enemies have agents。〃 Marty nodded as though he understood。 In a way； of course； he did。 Perhaps Whitehead suspected Luther or Pearl。 Maybe even Toy； who was so abruptly persona non grata。
〃These people are responsible for the present fall in my fortunes。 It's all meticulously engineered。〃 He shrugged； eyes like slits。 God； Marty thought； I'd never want to be on the wrong side of this man。 〃I don't fret about these things。 If they want to plan my ruin； let them。 But I wouldn't like to think that my most intimate feelings were available to them。 Do you see？〃 〃They won't be。〃 〃No。〃 He pursed his lips； a cold kiss of satisfaction。
〃You've seen something of Carys； I gather？ Pearl says you spend time together； is that right？〃 〃Yes。〃 Whitehead came back with a tone of detachment that was patently fake。
〃She seems stable much of the time； but essentially that's a performance。 I'm afraid she's not well； and hasn't been for several years。 Of course she's seen the best psychiatrists money can buy but I'm afraid it's done no good。 Her mother went the same way in the end。〃 〃Are you telling me not to see her？〃 Whitehead looked genuinely surprised。
〃No； not at all。 The panionship may be good for her。 But please； bear in mind she's a highly disturbed girl。 Don't take her pronouncements too seriously。 Half the time she doesn't know what she's saying。 Well； I think that's it。 You'd better go and pay off your fox。〃 He laughed； gently。
〃Clever fox；〃 he said。
In the two and a half months Marty had been at the Sanctuary Whitehead had been an iceberg。 Now he had to think about revising that description。 Today he'd glimpsed another man altogether： inarticulate； alone； talking of God and prayer。 Not just God。 There had been that final question； the one he'd thrown away so carelessly： 〃And the Devil？ Did you ever pray to him？〃 Marty felt he'd been handed a pile of jigsaw pieces； none of which seemed to belong to the same portrait。 Fragments of a dozen scenes： Whitehead resplendent among his acolytes； or sitting at a window watching the night； Whitehead the potentate； lord of all he surveyed； or betting like a drunken porter on the way a fox might run。
This last fragment puzzled Marty the most。 In it； he sensed； was a clue that could unite these disparate images。 He had the strangest feeling that the bet on the fox had been fixed。 Impossible； of course； and yet； and yet 。 。 。 Suppose Whitehead could put his finger on the wheel anytime he wanted to； so that even the petty chance of a fox running to the right or left was available to him？ Could he know the future before it happened…as that why the chips tingled； and fingers too？…or was he shaping it？
An earlier self would have rejected these subtleties out of hand。 But Marty had changed。 Being in the Sanctuary had changed him； Carys〃 ellipses had changed him。 In a hundred ways he was more plex than he'd been； and part of him longed for a return to the clarity of black and white。 But he knew damn well that such simplicity was a lie。 Experience was made up。 of endless ambiguities…of motive； of feeling； of cause and effect…and if he was to win under such circumstances； he had to understand how those ambiguities worked。
No； not win。 There was no winning and losing here： not in the way that he'd understood before。 The fox had run to the left； and he had a thousand pounds folded in his pocket； but he felt none of the exhilaration he had when he'd won on the horses； or at the casino。 Just black bleeding into white； and vice versa； until he scarcely knew right from wrong。
30
Toy had rung the estate in the middle of the afternoon； spoken to an irate Pearl； who was just about to make her exit； and left a message for Marty to call him at the Pimlico number。 But Marty hadn't rung back。 Toy wondered if Pearl had failed to pass the message along； or if Whitehead ha