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she’d called her husband unnecessarily simply to be punishing.
    “Eric,” she said to the Church House Inn’s proprietor, who, receiving no reply to his query, was eyeballing the hall’s taiko paraphernalia, “would you fetch a couple of cushions from the bar? I think you’ll find they’re just tied to the seats. We’d better call an ambulance,” she added to Tom as Eric jingled his way to the kitchen. “Torbay Hospital would be best.” Northmore had closed his eyes. His lips were drawn tightly and his face, normally slightly flushed, had turned the shade of candle wax.
    We’ll be getting more than an ambulance before long
was Tom’s anguished thought, as Eric handed two plush crimson seat cushions to Julia. Impatient to clear the hall, he said:
    “Eric, perhaps if you take the boys and Bumble outside.” He turned to the remaining supine figure. “Declan? Do you think you’re well enough to get off the floor?”
    Declan groaned with measured theatricality. “I suppose so,” he muttered petulantly, glaring at Charlie.
    “What about our performance?” Charlie and Daniel wailed as one.
    Julia adjusted the pillows under the colonel’s head. “We’ll see. We can do Chido-setsu and Yuki Jizoh. And for the finale, we might be able to do Heart Beat. Let us deal with things here first.”
    “Our lot can go on first, if you like,” Eric volunteered, taking Bumble’s lead and shepherding the boys towards the door. “Now that I’ve found my morris stick,” he added, glancing meaningfully at Daniel, holding up a solid-looking wooden stave of about eighteen inches.
    “Perhaps someone should wake Sybella.” Julia rose and looked down at the colonel. She flipped her phone open once again. “I almost don’t blame Declan. What does the girl think she’s playing at? Destroying the drum skin and crawling in to sleep it off. I thought she was reformed.”
    “How are you feeling, Colonel?” Tom bent down on one knee, while Julia spoke with emergency services.
    “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Northmore opened his eyes—his irises were iron grey—and looked directly into Tom’s. “I’ve been through worse, padre.”
    “I expect you have, Colonel.” Tom smiled and rose. “I just need a word with Julia,” he continued, drawing his sister-in-law aside when she’d finished her call. “Dr. Hennis should be here shortly,” he promised the injured man. “And an ambulance.”
    “I’m furious with Sybella,” Julia remarked when they’d moved away a distance. “I’ve a mind to bring in the police and …” Something in Tom’s expression stopped her. “What? Tom, what is it?”
    “Julia,” he began in a low voice, “I’m going to tell you something. It’s going to be very upsetting, but I’m going to need your help.”
    “Now you’re frightening me.”
    He took a deep breath. There was no good way to cushion it. “Sybella isn’t asleep.”
    Julia frowned. “Stoned, then? What do you mean?”
    “Sybella is dead.”

CHAPTER FIVE

    “D ead, you say?”
    The colonel’s croak intruded into Tom’s consciousness. Julia’s saucer eyes, searching his own, were holding him transfixed.
    “We were referring to—” Tom managed to begin, but Julia’s fingers were pressing into his arm, her lips opening, as if to emit a scream. “We were referring to—” he began again, possessed by an impulse to silence her with an embrace.
    “Yes, I know. To the girl. Got fixed up with a very good hearing aid some years ago.”
    “But how …?” Julia groaned, her hand still locked to his arm, her eyes now turned to the
o-daiko
drum.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You must be strong, my dear.” The colonel addressed Julia. They both turned to the recumbent figure. The simple instruction of a man who had suffered war in its cruelest strain seemed magically to lessen their dread. Tom felt Julia’s fingers slip from his sleeve. He pulled his mobile from his pocket.
    “Police?” the old man asked.
    “Yes,