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Madeleine was slowing； glancing from one side of the road to the other as though she was unfamiliar with her surroundings。 More chalets now； a whole street of them； windows like dark orbs that saw the newers； the VW's headlights reflected； flashing angrily。 The buildings were petering out now； just a few scattered houses； older ones constructed of stone。
Madeleine Gaufridi was sucking in her breath； frustration and uncertainty suddenly terminating in an audible sigh of relief。
'This is the place；* she spoke as though to herself。 'I feared that we had missed it or else it did not exist。'
Sabat saw a long stone…built place which he thought at first was a farm building； possibly a haystore or a cattle shed。 His eyes narrowed as he saw a shaft of light ing from beneath the large ill…fitting door。 At least there was somebody in this unknown mountain village。 But what was this place？ Madeleine was swinging the van across the road which had virtually petered out into a rutted cart…track。 She grated the reverse gear； leaned out of the window as she backed across the soft grass； only braked when she was a matter of two or three feet from the lighted doorway。
The silence seemed to rush at Sabat as she killed the engine and switched off the lights。 The heater fan groaned to a halt and for a moment Madeleine sat there as though she was reluctant to disembark； perhaps wishing she had not e here in the first place。 Then she moved with a sudden decisiveness； swung open the door and leapt down。 'e on； Sabat； we have work to do。 We must hurry for we have to be back in Lucerne before daylight。'
Sabat climbed down； slammed the door with a metallic clang which the mountain night air echoed； a noise that had a ring of finality about it。 His scalp tingled； instinctively he checked and found that he still carried his ？38。 That was strange； for surely Schmid and his followers would disarm a dangerous enemy。 But Sabat was no enemy for was he not one of them now； working for them； a fellow cannibal sent to guard the beautiful 'Queen of the Sabbath' on her nocturnal mission？ They had let him keep his gun because they knew as well as he did that Quentin Sabat would not use it against them。
The heavy door was swinging open noiselessly on well…oiled hinges as though their arrival had been anticipated。 Possibly the vehicle had been seen or heard。
Sabat checked； felt Madeleine's fingers clutching at his arm。 She； too； was drawing back； afraid to enter this mysterious lighted place。 They had an unrestricted view of the interior。 At some time it had obviously been a small chapel； a raised floor at the rear on which an altar had once stood； high windows that might； many years ago； have been of stained glass but were now crudely boarded up。 Where the pews had stood on either side of the narrow aisle there were now long slabs of white marble supported by heavy oak trestles。 Two or three shrouded immobile shapes lay on them which could only be corpses awaiting burial！
'It's a morgue！' Sabat hissed。
'Yes；' Madeleine's voice trembled with a nervousness that reminded Sabat of their first meeting in the Ice Palace on the topmost slopes of the Jungfrau； an encounter that now seemed unreal and almost lost in the mists of time； the beginning of a deception。 'This is the chapel of the mountain dead； the place where the goatherds are brought when they die； for their families are too poor to pay for transport and a funeral in the lower regions。'
'Somebody's ing！' Sabat stiffened； noted a small door at the rear of the interior； perhaps once the entrance to a vestry； opening slowly。
'This will be Monsieur Grien；' Madeleine shuddered。 'He is the keeper of the dead； the mortician of the mountains！'
Sabat's first impression of Monsieur Grien was one of utter revulsion； no twisted hunchbacked grotesque dwarf so monplace in B…rated horror movies could have pared with the figure which shuffled into view。 The other was clad in some kind of homespun overalls of a dirty grey colour that were splashed and stained with dark crimson； filth and dried blood ingrained in the coarse material。 The head was bald； reflected the light from the single oil…lamp which hung in the aisle； features that had wizened with age； the skin shrunken so that the head was virtually skeletal。 Hollowed eyes that stared out into the night； a toothless mouth moving with muttered curses at this interruption。 A bony hand gestured impatiently for them to enter。
'That is the one；' Grien pointed towards the furthermost shrouded figure。 'Take it and begone； for I do not like this business。'
'You are being well paid for it；' Madeleine regained her confidence with a sudden anger and moved forward with Sabat at her heels。 'Do not forget that； Monsieur Grien。 In fact； consider yourself fortunate that we have given you any money at all for we can prove； if necessary； that on occasions empty coffins have been lowered into their graves because the corpses have been taken elsewhere！'
The bald…headed man shrank back； his black cavity of a mouth wide in a mute cry of terror and when he spoke again it was a cringing whine。 'I meant no harm； it is only that I am busy。 A goatherd slipped on the crags today and the sharp rocks below dissected the corpse。 I have to sew it back together before his family e to view him tomorrow。 I meant no harm； I assure you。 I am pleased to be of assistance。'
'Then you must help my panion here to carry this body to our vehicle。' Madeleine moved forward； slender fingers that trembled only slightly gripping a corner of the shroud。 'But first we must check that it is the right one。'
The cloth was cast aside and in that first awful moment in which Sabat was afforded a view of the corpse on the slab he was fighting to stop himself from uttering a cry of revulsion and turning his head away。 Merciful God； to think that they could transport a hideous cargo like that across the continent； that strong men could sleep in their beds whilst it remained unburied or uncremated！ He almost threw up； tasted the tang that still lingered on his palate from last night's meal； smelled it again here as it drifted up from that month…old corpse。
It was Louis Nevillon all right。 The head so neatly severed from the shoulders rested on the belly； as though the navel had engorged and developed features。 Eyes that should have been closed were wide and staring： seeing！ The nostrils were clogged with mucus that had bubbled and dried； the lips open as though rigor mortis had frozen that final curse。 White flesh bloated as though it was ready to live again。
Madeleine's fear was gone； replaced by an expression of sadness that was slowly transforming into one of breathless joy。 She smiled； her dark eyes sparkled； and she was leaning over the mutilated remains of the Beast of France。
'My dearest；' a whisper that was intended only for dead ears。 'You have not left me after all。 You knew that I would e to you； that soon we shall be together again。'
Her lips pouted； descended slowly on to Louis Nevillon's bloodcaked rigid mouth in a long succulent kiss between the living and the dead； her tongue thrusting into that icy cavern as though simulating copulation in preparation for his resurrection。
Sabat tensed； clenched his fists in an inexplicable feeling of jealousy； hatred for this lifeless body that was even now an instrument of seduction。 He wanted to tear her from it； take his own revenge upon Louis Nevillon whilst it was still possible。 After that he would take Madeleine 。。。
But by the time Madeleine Gaufridi straightened up and looked at him Sabat was smiling； only his eyes betraying what had gone on in his mind。
'Carry him out to the van；！。 Madeleine snapped。 'Monsieur Grien will help you。 Take care that you do not drop him； for even in death my dearest one has feelings！'
CHAPTER SEVEN
SABAT'S HANDS burned as though with frostbite as he clambered back into the passenger seat alongside Madeleine； a coldness that was spreading to the rest of his body…the chill of death from handling Louis Nevillon。
The VW whined then fired and the headlights threw the darkness back。 Sabat glanced out of the side window； the mortuary door was closed now and no light shone from within。 Perhaps Monsieur Grien preferred to work in the dark。
Back down that mountain road； Madeleine using her brakes； their squeal jarring Sabat's nerves like a cry of anguish from beyond the grave。 He had to stop himself from turning round and peering over into the back of the van； cringing in horror at the grisly thing which lay there wrapped in an old blanket。 A sharp bend； something rolled。 A dull thud。 Sabat was reminded of that unholy kiss in the morgue； found himself staring intently at the girl by his side。 Her moods came and went； a young girl who grew to maturity and worse； and then became almost childlike again in her innocence。 She was relaxed now； a half…smile on her pert features。
'I don't suppose I'm to be told where we're headed？' Sabat murmured； 'even though I do happen to be your bodyguard/
'It wouldn't mean anything to you if I told you；' she replied。 'Just an old chapel that nobody uses these days except ourselves。 We'll have to lie up there during the daytime。 Andre and the others will be joining us after dark。'
He thought he detected a faint greyness in the eastern sky。 The speedometer needle hovered between sixty and seventy； a vibration that made conversation impossible。 Madeleine Gaufridi was driving flat out； desperate to reach this unknown chapel before dawn broke fully。
Skirting Lucerne； the lake a shimmering sheet of cold blackness on their right； starting to climb again。 Daylight was ing fast； the pine forests no longer patches of dark shadow beyond the range of the headlights。
A screeching of brakes and Sabat was thrown forward。 Madeleine cursed fluently in French； grated the reverse gear and shot backwards； slammed it back into bottom。
'Almost missed it。' She nodded towards a gap in the trees where a muddy track led away from the road。 'I must be very tired； I have been here often enough before。'
The VW bumped over uneven ground； the wheels spinning in a patch of thick mud but ing free again。 The track was so narrow now that the overhanging branches scraped the sides of the van。 Climbing； levelling out； going down a steep slope until they emerged into a wide clearing in the centre of which was a building that had undoubtedly been a chapel at some time。 Sabat stared with tired eyes； made out a square stone structure roughly the size of the chalet in which they had stayed at Interlaken； similar to that mountain morgue； only much smaller。
'It's very small；' he mented。
'Most of these remote chapels are；' she answered； leaning her head on the steering wheel。 'Just a few peasants on Sundays。 It was ample then and it is now。 God； I'm shattered。 You will have to get Louis out of the back on your own！'
Sabat opened the door； got out slowly。 That thing； he had to handle it； hold it close to his own body； feel its deathly cold chilling his blood。 The smell of death that would cling to him like the tang of human meat。 He took adeep breath； closed his eyes。 He didn't have any choice。
Madeleine was already opening the chapel door； waiting for him。 He stretched his hands into the back of the van； wished that there was a wheelbarrow or some other conveyance handy。 Even if there had been she would not have allowed him to use it 'Carry my loved one carefully for he is not really dead； only sleeping； ready to awaken on Walpurgisnacht？
The body had partially slipped out of the blanket； the head now separate and turned away from him。 He could not carry them both。 He would have to make two journeys。
He wrapped the blanket tightly around the corpse； dragged it towards him and then lifted it； staggered back and almost fell under the weight。 Two hundred pounds； maybe more；
The ground was slippery and he had to pick each step del