“You want to know why I am following you,” Sandy said quietly.
“That’s correct.”
“I am trying to look after you.” Sandy sipped at his whisky, with his eyes level with mine. “You are not yet ready to hear the full story, Doctor.”
“Why is that?”
Sandy placed his glass on the walnut table. “You would not believe me,” he said simply.
I took a deep breath, decided I needed this man’s help and kept my words to myself. “Tell me when you are ready,” I said.
“That might not be long,” Sandy told me, standing up. “I’ll be in touch about the resurrection,” he said, indicating I should leave. He smiled when I looked confused. “That’s what we call stealing a dead body.”
* * *
There was a sliver of moon that night, alternately appearing and disappearing behind scudding clouds. Together with the f
