The Travelling Companion by Ian Rankin Read Free Book Online Page B

That couldn’t happen—it would mean prison or even worse. The book had to be destroyed, the story reworked, and Hythe’s name changed to Hyde.”
    â€œAll right,” I said quietly. Tears were falling from my eyes on to the desk. I was seeing Charlotte, in that horrific pose on her bed, her life snuffed out. I was about to say as much, but Turk was opening a drawer and pulling out more sheets. They comprised a family tree, along with some drawings—portraits of the same man, showing him in his late teens and then in raddled middle age. He looked so familiar to me …
    â€œEdwin Hythe,” Turk was explaining. “The first time I saw you, I was struck by the resemblance. This was some time back, through the window of the shop. I asked George about you and decided it was no mere coincidence. Which is why I asked him to send you on that particular errand.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œIt’s on your mother’s side,” he said, running a finger back up the family tree from my name. “You are descended from Edwin Hythe. His blood in your blood, and with it, unfortunately, his curse.”
    â€œHis what?” I was rubbing at my eyes, trying to blink them into some kind of focus.
    â€œYour devil has been long caged, Ronald. He has come out roaring !”
    There was a mad gleam in his eye as he spoke. I leapt to my feet. “You’re crazy,” I told him. “ You’re the devil here! You and your damned Alice!”
    â€œThere is no Alice.”
    â€œShe knows you—she runs errands …”
    But he was shaking his head. “There’s only you, Ronald. You and the demon that’s been sleeping deep inside you, waiting for the right catalyst. Paris is that catalyst.”
    â€œWhere are the manuscripts?” I demanded, looking about me. “The two unpublished novels?”
    He gave a shrug. “You’ve seen all there is. Nothing more than fragments.”
    â€œYou’re lying!”
    â€œBelieve what you will.”
    â€œAlice is real !”
    He was chuckling as he shook his head again. His silver-topped walking-stick glinted at me from its resting-place by the desk. I grabbed it and raised it over my head. Rather than shrink from me in fear, his smile seemed to widen. I bared my teeth and struck him across the side of the head. He staggered but stayed on his feet, so I hit him again. He wheeled away from me into the long hallway. I stayed a few footsteps behind him as I continued to rain down blows upon his head and back until he fell, just inside the front door. He was still conscious, but his breathing was ragged, blood bubbling from his mouth. A few more blows and he lay still. I hauled him by his feet away from the door so I could open it and make my escape.
    Outside, I could hear sirens. Police cars, probably, heading for a hotel not too far away, where passers-by would be able to describe the bloodied figure running from the scene. Alice was standing on the opposite pavement, her eyes full of understanding. We shared a smile before I looked to left and right. There was plenty of traffic, but I started to cross towards her, knowing it would stop for me. When I looked again, however, she had vanished. Pedestrians and drivers were beginning to stare. I noted the fresh spattering of bright red blood on my shirt, so began to rip at it, throwing it from me until I stood half-naked in the middle of the road, the sirens drawing closer. I stretched out both arms, angled my head to the heavens above, and roared.

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