squeamishness.
‘Don’t use that unless you really need to,’ Philip said. ‘But if you do need to use it, then don’t hesitate. Your life might depend on it. More than your life, in fact.’
‘More?’
‘Yes,’ Philip said. ‘Mine.’
Stephen shivered. But before he could say anything else Kirsten reappeared from the chemist’s. She carried two big plastic bags full of booty, which she swung with real pleasure. Looking at her grinning face, Stephen thought of the dead body in the field. He was suddenly glad that he’d taken the gun.
13. The Assault in the Library
Kirsten threw her loot into the pick-up truck and joined them. She wasn’t too happy at first with the job Philip wanted them to do. She was like a little child who’d been let loose in a toyshop only to be told, just as she was getting into the swing of things, that it was time to go home and do her homework. But she cheered up when Philip promised they’d have time to raid more interesting shops later.
‘I think I could get to like thieving,’ she said with a grin.
They fetched the plastic sacks from the car, while Philip set off to the hardware shop.
‘Any special book requests?’ Kirsten called after the big monk. When he looked back you could see his white teeth grinning through the black curls of his beard. The grin looked genuine, and again Stephen felt uneasy – either the man was a great actor or his moods were all over the place.
‘Just don’t get anything too steamy,’ joked Philip. ‘We don’t want too many distractions.’
Then he was gone, and they crossed the square to the library.
‘I’d really much rather be doing a bit of pillaging,’ Kirsten complained.
‘With any luck,’ Stephen pointed out, ‘we won’t even get in.’
But there was nothing to stop them. The door of the building was old and solid-looking, but it stood slightly ajar. Stephen wasn’t sure he liked that. The disappearances seemed to have happened late on Sunday night, a time when library doors should be locked. It suggested that someone had been here since then.
The door swung open at a push, and they were in a large front hall. Before them was a broad staircase. Off the hall were anonymous offices, most of them identical and all of them empty. The quietness seemed even quieter here.
‘Now this is really creepy,’ Kirsten whispered. It was a whispering sort of place.
They went up the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. In front of them, on the next landing, stood a glass door with the words Public Library written on it in gilt letters. They stopped, hesitant. They looked at each other with embarrassed smiles.
‘Robbing a library,’ Kirsten whispered. ‘It feels almost sinful!’
But she didn’t sound as though that bothered her. Her whisper echoed, as though a mocking little voice was aping hers.
For a moment they both just stood outside the door. Even now Stephen half expected a librarian to appear, demanding to know what they were at. Then the sound of breaking glass came from somewhere outside, startling them.
‘There goes the hardware shop,’ Stephen said.
The noise had broken the spell. Stephen shrugged off his unease and pushed at the library door. It swung open.
The library was a single, large, rectangular room. Big windows that looked out on to the square took up most of the wall straight ahead. The other walls were covered with bookshelves. Free-standing bookstacks stood scattered around the carpeted floor. Stephen felt himself relax. Inside the library the silence seemed less oppressive. It suited the place: you expected libraries to be quiet.
Immediately in front of them stood an old-fashioned glass-fronted library counter with low wooden gates on either side of it marked In and Out . Kirsten, bubbling at the opportunity, breezed in through the gate marked Out . Stephen used the proper gate. They stood looking around.
‘You start at that end,’ Kirsten said, pointing. ‘And I’ll start over
‘Don’t use that unless you really need to,’ Philip said. ‘But if you do need to use it, then don’t hesitate. Your life might depend on it. More than your life, in fact.’
‘More?’
‘Yes,’ Philip said. ‘Mine.’
Stephen shivered. But before he could say anything else Kirsten reappeared from the chemist’s. She carried two big plastic bags full of booty, which she swung with real pleasure. Looking at her grinning face, Stephen thought of the dead body in the field. He was suddenly glad that he’d taken the gun.
13. The Assault in the Library
Kirsten threw her loot into the pick-up truck and joined them. She wasn’t too happy at first with the job Philip wanted them to do. She was like a little child who’d been let loose in a toyshop only to be told, just as she was getting into the swing of things, that it was time to go home and do her homework. But she cheered up when Philip promised they’d have time to raid more interesting shops later.
‘I think I could get to like thieving,’ she said with a grin.
They fetched the plastic sacks from the car, while Philip set off to the hardware shop.
‘Any special book requests?’ Kirsten called after the big monk. When he looked back you could see his white teeth grinning through the black curls of his beard. The grin looked genuine, and again Stephen felt uneasy – either the man was a great actor or his moods were all over the place.
‘Just don’t get anything too steamy,’ joked Philip. ‘We don’t want too many distractions.’
Then he was gone, and they crossed the square to the library.
‘I’d really much rather be doing a bit of pillaging,’ Kirsten complained.
‘With any luck,’ Stephen pointed out, ‘we won’t even get in.’
But there was nothing to stop them. The door of the building was old and solid-looking, but it stood slightly ajar. Stephen wasn’t sure he liked that. The disappearances seemed to have happened late on Sunday night, a time when library doors should be locked. It suggested that someone had been here since then.
The door swung open at a push, and they were in a large front hall. Before them was a broad staircase. Off the hall were anonymous offices, most of them identical and all of them empty. The quietness seemed even quieter here.
‘Now this is really creepy,’ Kirsten whispered. It was a whispering sort of place.
They went up the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. In front of them, on the next landing, stood a glass door with the words Public Library written on it in gilt letters. They stopped, hesitant. They looked at each other with embarrassed smiles.
‘Robbing a library,’ Kirsten whispered. ‘It feels almost sinful!’
But she didn’t sound as though that bothered her. Her whisper echoed, as though a mocking little voice was aping hers.
For a moment they both just stood outside the door. Even now Stephen half expected a librarian to appear, demanding to know what they were at. Then the sound of breaking glass came from somewhere outside, startling them.
‘There goes the hardware shop,’ Stephen said.
The noise had broken the spell. Stephen shrugged off his unease and pushed at the library door. It swung open.
The library was a single, large, rectangular room. Big windows that looked out on to the square took up most of the wall straight ahead. The other walls were covered with bookshelves. Free-standing bookstacks stood scattered around the carpeted floor. Stephen felt himself relax. Inside the library the silence seemed less oppressive. It suited the place: you expected libraries to be quiet.
Immediately in front of them stood an old-fashioned glass-fronted library counter with low wooden gates on either side of it marked In and Out . Kirsten, bubbling at the opportunity, breezed in through the gate marked Out . Stephen used the proper gate. They stood looking around.
‘You start at that end,’ Kirsten said, pointing. ‘And I’ll start over