Adrian Bull was buried on a Thursday.
After the service, Martin and the band went up to ring. Eleanor stood outside with Relf and listened.
She could follow more of it now. She still knew little about the technique, but she could hear the order changing and the tenor returning beneath the other bells.
Relf had a small plaster above his eyebrow.
"Do you think Weller will be convicted?" she asked.
"I think we have a case."
She watched the church door.
"We were wrong about the pull."
"Yes."
"But right that someone had more to explain."
Relf nodded.
For a while they listened without speaking.
Martin joined them after the ringing.
"Still leaving tomorrow?"
"Yes. I should have been back at work twelve days ago."
He handed her a folded sheet.
"The tenor inscription. A complete transcription."
She opened it.
The worn word was printed clearly:
HART
Beneath it he had written:
Checked from bell, 24 October. M.V.
"Thank you."
"Thought you might want a copy."
"I do."
He glanced towards the tower.
"If you want to try handling a bell before you go, I could show you this evening."
Eleanor looked at him.
"After all this?"
"Under supervision. With nobody anywhere near the frame."
"I don't think I'd be much good."
"Nobody is at first."
Relf said nothing.
Martin left them to speak to another member of the band. Eleanor folded the transcription and put it in her bag.
"What?" she asked Relf.
"I didn't say anything."
"You're waiting."
"I've learnt to."
She looked towards the tower again.
At seven twenty, Martin put the tail of a rope into her hands.
He had explained where to stand, how to hold it and what to do when he told her to stop. The bell was down.
"Just a little movement," he said.
She pulled.
The rope responded, but she could not tell how much the bell had moved.
"Again."
This time she felt it return.
Martin stood close beside her, watching her hands.
"Wait for it. Now."
She pulled again.
The movement increased gradually. She had expected strength to matter most. Instead she found herself concentrating on when to act and when to let the rope move.
Then Martin said, "Again," and she thought of Bull.
She stopped.
Martin took control of the rope.
"We can leave it there."
Eleanor looked up at the ceiling.
"No. I'd like to finish."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
He waited until she was ready before continuing.
Later, with the bell settled and safely down, he showed her how to tie the rope. She made the knot slowly, checking each turn against his instructions.
"Like that?"
He examined it.
"That'll do."
She stepped back.
Eight ropes, all tied.
Relf appeared in the doorway carrying an envelope.
Eleanor recognised the expression before he spoke.
"What is it?"
"Delivered to the station this afternoon."
"No return address?"
"No."
Inside was a postcard.
The picture showed a church beneath a bright sky. On the reverse was a sequence of numbers, followed by a message in blue ink:
ADRIAN ONLY FOUND ONE ROUTE.
Eleanor read it twice.
Martin looked over her shoulder.
"Do you recognise the church?" she asked him.
"No."
"I do," Relf said.
She turned the card over.
"Where?"
"Hong Kong."
Eleanor looked at the photograph more closely.
"Who sent it?"
"We don't know."
"And you brought it here."
"I thought you should see it."
She glanced at the ropes, then back at the numbers.
"My train is at ten fourteen tomorrow."
"I remember."
"I'm going home."
"All right."
She held out the postcard. Relf took it and slipped it back into the envelope.
"Have you already looked at flights?" she asked.
"There's one at eleven thirty."
"Arthur."
"I checked. That's all."
She shook her head, then laughed.
Relf waited while she put on her coat.
Before leaving, she looked once more at the knot she had tied.