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nodded and leaned over. ‘When I look at you, Obadiah,I see a man who has a secret. A secret that is such a
burden it threatens to engulf you. It keeps you awake at
night and gnaws at your guts every day.’ He leaned even
closer. ‘It doesn’t have to be like that.’
    Obadiah’s eyes were shining. A small tear squeezed from
the corner of one and ran down the lines that scored his
cheek.
    ‘What can I do?’ he whispered desperately.
    Joe’s voice was soothing and full of promise. ‘Pawn your
secret and free yourself of its terrible burden.’
    ‘Pawn it?’ Obadiah was a little bemused from the drink,
and from Joe’s eyes and his soft voice. His head felt as if it
was slowly sinking underwater.
    ‘You mean you will buy my secret? But why?’
    ‘It’s my business,’ said Joe. ‘I am a pawnbroker.’
    Obadiah shook his head slowly and his brow creased
with confusion. ‘But if I pawn it then must I claim it back?
If I don’t, you will have the right to sell it. And if you sell
it, then it is no longer a secret.’ Obadiah liked to make life
easy by thinking in a simple and logical fashion.
    ‘Ah,’ exclaimed Joe. ‘I think you will find my terms
quite agreeable. If you wish to reclaim your secret, you pay
what you took plus a little extra. If not, I will keep thesecret for you for as long as you want, a lifetime if that is
your wish. In fact, if you never reclaim it, I will hold it until
you are in the grave and beyond, and then I doubt you
would care so much.’
    ‘Well I s’pose that sounds fair, Mr Zabbidou.’
    Joe smiled. ‘Let us get started. I am anxious to set a
mind at ease.’
    He nodded discreetly to Ludlow, who realized this was
his cue. With a shaking hand he raised the quill and dipped
it in the ink. He held the quill poised over the pristine page.
    ‘And you swear you won’t tell?’ asked Obadiah, quivering.
    Joe shook his head solemnly. ‘Never,’ he said. ‘On my
life.’
    ‘Then hear this and maybe you can help. God knows, no
one else can.’
    For the next hour the only sound in the room was Obadiah’s
trembling voice and the soft scratching of a nib on
paper.
    Ludlow’s work had begun.

 
    Chapter Twelve

Extract from
The Black Book of Secrets
    The Gravedigger’s Confession
    My name is Obadiah Strang and I have a terrible secret.
It haunts my every waking hour, and at night when
I finally manage to sleep it takes over my dreams.
    I might only be a humble gravedigger but I am
proud of it. I have never cheated anyone: they get
six feet, no more, no less. I have always led a simple
life. I need very little and I ask for nothing. I was
a contented man until some months ago when I fell
foul of my landlord, Jeremiah Ratchet.
    It had been a difficult week, short on gravedigging
and even shorter on tips. When rent day came around
I didn’t have it. No doubt you already know of Jeremiah
Ratchet. He is a hated man in these parts and
I feared what he would do to me. But he surprised
me and suggested that I pay double the next week.
Like a fool I accepted his offer. But when rent day
came again he claimed that I owed him eighteen
shillings not twelve.
    ‘Six shillings interest on the loan,’ he explained with
an oily smile.
    Of course, I didn’t have the extra money and a
week later the debt had increased again. I paid what
I could and tried to reason with him but Jeremiah
Ratchet must have a hole where his heart should be.
After four weeks I owed so much I could never hope
to pay.
    That was his intention all along.
    ‘I have a suggestion,’ he said the next time he
came over, ‘a way for you to work off your debt.’
    Although I distrusted the man by now, I had no
choice but to listen.
    ‘I need you to do a job for me, something eminently
suited to your skills. I will provide the tools.’
    Then he explained to me his despicable plan and
I flew into a rage and threw him out. He stood on the
path and called back to me. ‘If you will not do it, I
will evict you. You know where I