ECHO 4/4/06

Dutch Church, Austin Friars - a tiny arcane artery in the city close by Liverpool Street; one of those places where time travel is possible – believe me – you’ll know if you’ve been – there The Hatchet Man was taking a chance to find some peace - he prayed in the main house then went to the gents lavatory in preparation for his next appointment: a job interview, third floor Campaign House – he went into one of the stone cubicles and shut the heavy wooden door – a silence – he pissed freely – then realized someone else, two people in fact, had entered and were talking without knowledge of his presence – Dutch accents of course, interspersed with English – one deep, the other fast and nervous – The Hatchet Man imagined thick spectacles and he would have been right – he remained as quiet as possible, his fingertips touching the door and his eyes scanning the patterned concrete – elements of flint or some such –

the men were discussing the removal of a member of an Episcopal council – they were trying to get the person voted off at forthcoming elections and were planning to use incriminating evidence to advance this aim –

the well of souls – do not touch –