“This time, you really did make a mess,” said Ross.
“I think you knew I’d make a mess when you sent me after Quayle.”
“I was hoping for a smaller mess. You may be interested to learn that Armitage is dead.”
“How?”
“Someone slit her wrists for her, but they may have saved everyone a lot of embarrassment, as well as the cost of a trial. The Dutch police believe she killed two people: Gruner, the book dealer you were tracking, and a woman named Eva Meertens. You wouldn’t know anything about Meertens, would you?”
“No.”
“I thought not.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because no one cared about Gruner, but I hear the girl may have been better-liked. Revenge for her death would have been a compelling motive for killing Armitage.”
“I can’t help you.”
“No, you won’t help me. I think you often get those two words confused. What about the Atlas?”
“What about it?”
“Don’t play games, not with this. I want it.”
“It’s lost.”
“Lost where?”
“If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost. It disappeared from the church.”
“Disappeared?”
“There was a lot of confusion. I don’t know where it is now.”
“You’re lying.”
“On this occasion, I’m not. I really don’t know where it is.”
And he didn’t.
CHAPTER CXXXVI
The British Library’s collection numbers more than 150 million items, with a further three million being added every year. Less than half its collection is kept on-site at St. Pancras, the rest being held in an old ordnance factory at Boston Spa, which alone contains more than sixty miles of shelving. The filing and location systems for the library’s holdings are second to none. But sometimes, as is the law of averages, books get lost, especially if no one is quite aware of their existence to begin with; and librarians are so very poorly paid for doing their job well that it takes a great deal of money to convince one of them do it badly.
If you want to hide a body, find a cemetery.
If you want to hide a book, find a library.
CHAPTER CXXXVII
Quayle opened his eyes. He was standing by a lake. Before him, an endless tide of the dead waded through its waters before being swallowed by the sea beyond.
A girl appeared beside him. He did not know her face.
“I wanted oblivion,” he said.
“I know,” said Jennifer Parker.
“I was promised it.”
“And it was a lie. But the Old God is more merciful.”
* * *
THE LAKE WAS GONE. In its place stood a version of Quayle’s Chancery lair, with all its books and furnishings.
“What is this?” Quayle asked.
“This is the Old God’s mercy. This is your oblivion.”
And in that moment, Quayle was rendered eternally blind.
CHAPTER CXXXVIII
The bar of Boston’s Colonial Club was busier than usual, and marginally noisier, if only by the typically hushed standards of that institution. One of the older members had passed away, and a reception was being held in his honor following the cremation. Although he had attended the service, the Principal Backer decided to avoid the reminiscing that followed. He was in no mood for even cursory socializing. Quayle and Mors were dead, which was all to the good, but Armitage, too, was gone, and the location of the Atlas was now unknown. Also, Armitage’s murder was being investigated with a rigor that might prove hazardous, given their relationship. The security of the Principal Backer’s position depended on knowledge and control, and he was currently running a shortfall of both.
He entered the club’s padded elevator in order to access the lobby, preferring to avoid the stairs where some of the mourners had gathered to talk. Just as the doors were about to close, their progress was halted by the appearance of a foot, and they rumbled open again. A man joined him in the elevator: a member familiar to the Principal Backer, if only as one to be avoided. They exchanged a cursory nod. The doors rattled shut, but the elevator did not move. The Principal Backer stabbed at the DOWN button again, but instead the elevator went up, which meant he would be forced to share this man’s company for longer than either might have desired.
“A sad occasion,” said the Principal Backer, to break the silence.
“I’m sorry?”
“I suggested that it’s a sad occasion.”
“If you say so. Did you know him well?”
“Only barely, but he was well liked by many here.”
“That’s hardly surprising. He was a crook.”
The doors opened on the top floor, but no one entered. Their descent commenced, but the Principal Backer was still processing this last comment. Such indiscretion was rare in the Colonial, even if the substance of the observation was certainly true. The deceased had only been cremated to save the devil the trouble, and there were many in the club who would be reunited with him when their own time came.
“That’s very interesting,” said the Principal Backer, for form’s sake. “How do you know he was a crook?”
The doors opened again, and his interlocutor stepped out. He fixed the Principal Backer carefully on the pinpoint of his regard.
“Because,” said SAC Edgar Ross of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, “it’s my job.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It’s odd to begin these acknowledgments by choosing not to thank some people by name, but I’m not sure that all those who were kind enough to help me with my research into St. Mary’s Church in Fairford would wish to be blamed, however incorrectly, for the use to which I’ve put its beautiful stained-glass windows. Nevertheless, those windows are stunning, and well worth viewing, so I’m very grateful to those citizens of Fairford who assisted me in understanding their historical and artistic significance. Should you decide to visit St. Mary’s after reading this book, please leave a donation, if only to assuage my guilt.
Joanne Lee was my guide to the history of legal London, but any errors are my own. Similarly, Jeremy Goulding, formerly of the Northumbria Police, very kindly answered my questions on matters of investigative procedure, and bears no responsibility for whatever mistakes, alterations, inventions, or obfuscations may have followed. Thanks also to Andrew Tinkler, Chaplain of Durham University’s Josephine Butler College, for his generous assistance; and to my friend the very fine writer Paul Johnston, to whom this book is dedicated. My gratitude also to Myriam Vidriales for correcting my poor Spanish, and to Jannelies Smit for her assistance with the Dutch-language sections of the novel. Meanwhile, Alice Wood and Sarah Wright saved some of my blushes with their copy edits, and the efforts of Jennie Ridyard, Ellen Clair Lamb, and Cliona O’Neill saved a few more. Perfection, though, is for God alone, so I can only beg forgiveness for anything that might have slipped through the net.
Among the books that proved particularly useful in the course of the writing of this novel were Fairford Parish Church: A Medieval Church and Its Stained Glass by Sarah Brown and Lindsay MacDonald (Sutton Publishing, 2007); Occult London by Merlin Coverley (Oldcastle Books, 2017); The Old Straight Track by Alfred Watkins (Abacus, 1974); Dark Side of the Boom: The Excesses of the Art Market in the 21st Century by Georgina Adam (Lund Humphries, 2017); Folklore, Myths and Legends of Britain (Reader’s Digest, 1973); and Underworld London by Catharine Arnold (Simon & Schuster, 2012).
As always, huge thanks to Emily Bestler, my editor at Atria/Emily Best-
ler Books, and Sue Fletcher, my editor at Hodder & Stoughton, for their advice and support. (If you think this book is too long, it’s my fault for ignoring their counsel.) Thanks also to everyone at Atria and Hodder, particularly Lara Jones, Stephanie Mendoza, Swati Gamble, Carolyn Mays, Kerry Hood, Lucy Hale, Alice Morley, and Auriol Bishop; and to those publishers and editors in other lands who have been kind enough to translate and distrib
ute these books over the past twenty years. I’d be nothing without you, just as I’d be lost without the booksellers and librarians who continue to find a place for my work on their crowded shelves. Darley Anderson, my long-suffering agent, saw the potential in a young writer when few others did—and continues to see some potential in him after two decades, which is rather reassuring. I will always be touched by the faith that he and his staff have shown in me. Meanwhile, Ellen Clair Lamb takes care of so much stuff that even listing a fraction of it might require me to pay her more money, so I’ll simply thank her for her hard work and friendship.
Lastly, love and gratitude to Jennie, Cameron, and Alistair—and now Megan and Alannah. What would be the point of it all without you?
John Connolly, April 2019
PERMISSIONS
Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reprint from the following copyrighted works:
Excerpt from “Casualty” from Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966–1996 by Seamus Heaney. Copyright © 1998 by Seamus Heaney. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
“A German Requiem” was taken from: Selected Poems by James Fenton. Copyright © James Fenton. Published by Penguin. Used by permission of United Artists.
Excerpt of three lines from “Lady Lazarus” from The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath, edited by Ted Hughes. Copyright © 1960,1965, 1971, 1981 by the Estate of Sylvia Plath. Reprinted by permission of Harper Collins Publishers.
“Hawk Roosting” was taken from Collected Animal Poems Vol. 1–4 by Ted Hughes. Copyright © Ted Hughes. Published by Faber & Faber. Used by permission.
Excerpt from “Little Gidding” from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot. Copyright © 1942 by T. S. Eliot, renewed 1970 by Esme Valerie Eliot. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.
“Decorating & Insurance Factors” by Bill Griffiths, first published in Jacket magazine (1999), and later in Durham & Other Sequences (West House Books, 2002).
More from this Series
Every Dead Thing
Book 1
Dark Hollow
Book 2
The Killing Kind
Book 3
The White Road
Book 4
More from the Author
Dominion
Night Music
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Connolly is the author of the Charlie Parker series of mystery novels, the supernatural collections Nocturnes and Night Music, the Samuel Johnson trilogy for younger readers, The Book of Lost Things, and (with Jennifer Ridyard) the Chronicles of the Invaders series. He lives in Dublin, Ireland. For more information, see his website at JohnConnollyBooks.com, or follow him on Twitter @JConnollyBooks.
EMILYBESTLERBOOKS.COM
SimonandSchuster.com
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/John-Connolly
Facebook.com/EmilyBestler @EmilyBestler
THE CHARLIE PARKER STORIES
EVERY DEAD THING
DARK HOLLOW
THE KILLING KIND
THE WHITE ROAD
THE REFLECTING EYE (NOVELLA IN THE NOCTURNES COLLECTION)
THE BLACK ANGEL
THE UNQUIET
THE REAPERS
THE LOVERS
THE WHISPERERS
THE BURNING SOUL
THE WRATH OF ANGELS
THE WOLF IN WINTER
A SONG OF SHADOWS
A TIME OF TORMENT
A GAME OF GHOSTS
THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS
OTHER WORKS
BAD MEN
NOCTURNES
NIGHT MUSIC
THE BOOK OF LOST THINGS
he: A NOVEL
THE SAMUEL JOHNSON STORIES (FOR YOUNG ADULTS)
THE GATES
THE INFERNALS
THE CREEPS
THE CHRONICLES OF THE INVADERS (WITH JENNIFER RIDYARD)
CONQUEST
EMPIRE
DOMINION
NONFICTION
BOOKS TO DIE FOR (EDITED BY JOHN CONNOLLY AND DECLAN BURKE)
PARKER: A MISCELLANY
MIDNIGHT MOVIE MONOGRAPHS: HORROR EXPRESS
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Jacket design by James Iacobelli
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Connolly, John, 1968–, author.
Title: A book of bones / by John Connolly.
Description: New York : Emily Bestler Books, Atria, [2019] | Series: Charlie Parker ; 17
Identifiers: LCCN 2019012541 | ISBN 9781982127510 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781982127527 (pbk.)
Subjects: | GSAFD: Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PR6053.O48645 B64 2019 | DDC 823/.914—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019012541
ISBN 978-1-9821-2751-0
ISBN 978-1-9821-2753-4 (ebook)
A Book of Bones Page 65
