Chapter 30
A driver McDuff hadn’t noticed jumped down before he or Father Hall made a move toward the coach.
He was dressed like the guards on the inside, but he had to be at least twice the age of most of them. More like three times, McDuff realized when they got closer, with a fluff of white hair showing under his hat, and his face lined and wrinkled.
Thin enough that a stiff breeze surely threatened to blow him over, but his pale eyes were harder than the cobbles beneath their feet.
McDuff stepped aside as the driver scrambled up the three steps and jerked the solid black door open. A chain rattled against the side of the coach as it slipped through rusty loops on either side.
Years of policing experience, chilly and razor-sharp though the chaotic mess inside his head, steadied McD
