The Legacy

quickly. ‘What mat ers is the ring. What was it Albert said when you took him away? That the circle of life had to be protected?
    Could he have meant the ring? Do you think this is a hoax or could the ring real y be important.’
    Derek didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he shook his head slightly.
    ‘Derek?’ Richard asked, frowning. ‘Derek, what is it?’
    Derek looked up, his eyes narrowed, deep in thought. ‘He knew,’ he said simply.
    ‘Knew what?’ Richard asked impatiently. ‘What are you talking about?’
    ‘Albert,’ Derek said. ‘He knew. Before I took him. The way he reacted. He was expecting it.’
    ‘Expecting to be kil ed?’
    ‘He said that you’d never find the formula. He said you could search everywhere but you’d never find it. The way he said it, I think he knew you would try to find it. I think he was prepared.’
    Richard nodded, frowning as he frantical y tried to cast his mind back, tried to remember. He remembered the ring, remembered seeing it in Maggie’s jewel ery box one day. He’d assumed it had been there for a long time, that Albert had given it to her long before. He hadn’t asked, hadn’t wanted to draw at ention to it because of the inevitable questions – about Grandpa, about what had happened to him. It was the ring she’d given to Peter, the ring Richard had held in his hands.
    ‘The ring was Maggie’s though. How did he get it to her?’ he asked, trying to make sense of what he’d been told. ‘Maggie never saw him before he died.’
    ‘Who knows?’ Derek said. ‘She went to school, didn’t she? There were opportunities. He must have had it engraved with the formula, then given it to her.’
    ‘Yes,’ Richard breathed. ‘Of course. The eternal circle of life. He put the formula on the ring.’
    ‘And you had it al that time,’ Derek said.
    Richard looked at him, his teeth grit ed. ‘And I’l get it back. You’l get it back for me.’
    Derek didn’t reply, but Richard barely noticed. Al he knew was that his prayers had been answered. The ring. He would have the ring and he would have his salvation. Everything would be restored.
    He turned back to his computer. ‘You have the ring?’ he typed. ‘Then you also know the whereabouts of my grandson?’
    Catchers had been looking in vain for Peter and Anna for a year, ever since Peter had humiliated him in front of his employees, in front of the media. Richard’s heart quickened at the thought of final y finding him, of wreaking his revenge.
    ‘You need the circle of life, not Peter,’ the message came back.
    Richard’s eyes narrowed. Then he shook himself. First the ring; everything else would fol ow. ‘Very wel ,’ he typed. ‘The ring. Name your terms.’
    He read the message that came back and smiled, then laughed. He felt so happy, so relieved, he could have danced. He was being asked for so lit le for so much.
    His heart lifting, he turned to Derek. ‘I want every Catcher to be given Peter’s picture and told to search only for him. Do you understand?’
    ‘Perfectly, sir,’ Derek said, his eyes glinting.
    ‘Good,’ Richard said, leaning back in his chair as relief was replaced by delighted malevolence. ‘I think we need to up the stakes. I want the Underground destroyed beyond any chance of repair. And in the meantime, I’ve got a visit I want to make.
    Cal the prison, wil you? Let them know I’m on my way.’
    There was a bang at the door and Peter, who’d been dragging potatoes into the store, looked up in surprise. Anna, who’d been changing Mol y’s nappy – a makeshift affair of tea towels, loo rol and cot on wool – turned round and caught his eye. He could see a flicker of something cross her face – anxiety, he presumed. He shot her a reassuring look, then went to the door, opening it cautiously.
    But it was only the wind. Of course it was, Peter thought rueful y. They never had visitors. They were miles from anyone.
    ‘There’s no one there?’ Anna asked. She sounded worried as always.
    Peter rol ed his eyes. Ever since he’d received a message from the Underground that morning he’d been restless, agitated. He’d assumed the message was from Jude; it had come from his address. But there had been no sign-off, no banter, just a request. It made him feel insignificant – increased his feeling of isolation, of being cut off from everything.
    ‘Believe me,’ he said, more sarcastical y than was warranted, ‘if we were in any kind of