Read The Kings of Eternity for Free Online Page A

miracle, the fire was still glowing. I added more coal and brewed myself a tea - the universal panacea. I pulled up the armchair and sat in the warmth of the fire, going over and over the events in the bar and resolving that I should do the wise thing and end my relationship with Carla.
    But I had made the same resolution more than once in the past, to no avail. Always the fear of being alone had stilled my tongue, and for a time afterwards the intimacy I shared with Carla would make it seem worthwhile... until the occasion of our next tiff, or the inevitable bout of blind jealousy on my part.
    The phone shrilled. I snatched it, up, fully expecting Carla to start haranguing me for my behaviour.
    It was a man’s voice, and it was a little while before I could gather my senses and identify it.
    “Hello, is that Langham? Jonathon Langham?”
    “Langham here. Who?-”
    “Thank God,” said the voice, deep and rumbling. It came to me that it was a friend of my father’s, ringing with bad news.
    “It’s Carnegie. Been trying to reach you all night.”
    “Jasper? How can I help...?”
    Jasper Carnegie was the editor and publisher of a small literary magazine called The Monthly Scribe . He’d often called me with the commission for an article or short story, but never at midnight.
    “Jasper?”
    “Can you get away for a few days, Langham? Come down to the Grange?”
    “Ah...” I began. I had been at university with Carnegie, and I had seen more of him since he’d founded his magazine a couple of years ago. He had never before invited me to the Grange - but why now, I wondered, and why at this ungodly hour?
    “Did you hear me, Langham? Can you see yourself free for a few days?”
    My father would not be in town for a while, and the novel was going nowhere. Also, it would be the perfect opportunity to get away from Carla. I would go without informing her of my destination; perhaps it might be the precursor of the ultimate break that I knew, in my heart, I needed to make.
    “Yes, yes of course.”
    “Excellent, Langham. Y’see, there’s been some strange goings on down here. I’d like you to help me investigate.”
    I almost laughed aloud. It was like something from a penny dreadful.
    “Edward Vaughan’s coming too. In fact, he can pick you up. Ten in the morning, Langham, outside Waterloo station.”
    “Carnegie,” I interrupted. “Investigate what, exactly?”
    “Plenty of time for all that tomorrow, Langham.”
    The line went dead.
    I had met the novelist Edward Vaughan a couple of times. He too wrote for Carnegie’s magazine, but unlike me he was wealthy and respected. I had always been in awe of the man - I considered his novels of the highest standard - and I looked forward to meeting him again with anticipation and not a little nervousness.
    I retired to bed, my head swirling with the events of the day. As I lay staring up at the darkened ceiling, I went over and over my conversation with Jasper Carnegie.
    Strange goings on at the Grange...

Chapter Three
    Kallithéa, July, 1999

    One week after he first met Caroline Platt, Langham received an invitation to the private showing of her exhibition. He had seen nothing of her that week, which reassured him that she was not an undercover investigative journalist stalking him for an interview.
    He found himself looking back to the evening they had spent chatting on his patio, and he realised that he’d enjoyed her company. Oddly, he was disappointed that she had not been in touch since then. Caroline Platt was friendly and intelligent and strong - she had her own opinions, and could articulate them. It was the first time for years he had engaged in extended conversation with anyone other than his editor, and it had not been as painful as he’d feared.
    At eight he made his way out to the patio with his customary breakfast of black tea, plain yoghurt and honey. He found the envelope containing the invitation propped against an empty bottle of wine on the