{"sf1_id":1029278,"sf2_id":"ZeqrYQ4m","title":"In the Service of Mystery (Pt. 5)","author":"CofEFur","words":2944,"posted_at":"2016-06-14T06:53:00.000Z","tags":["Canine","Clean","German Shepherd","Labrador","Lynx","Plot Development","Wolf"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1029278-in-the-service-of-mystery-pt-5","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ZeqrYQ4m","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/02/9a/029a623c-a5cf-4f13-b15a-78850fe8478d","description":"#5 of In the Service of Mystery\n\nFather Francis meets with a seminary friend in need.","content":"Moments later, I was pulling away from the vicarage and driving north to meet the main road.\u0026nbsp; The drive to Newton was uneventful, but there is always one point in the journey that lifted my soul.\u0026nbsp; As you approach the city from the Amble Valley, you crest the last hill before the city and are treated to a panoramic view of that ancient town.\u0026nbsp; The cathedral soaring above the houses, its twin towers catching the evening sun, the lead of the nearly quarter-of-a-mile long nave roof glinting dully.\u0026nbsp; It was from here that I could always appreciate the wisdom of the choice of our forebears in siting the cathedral where it was - the view and the lines of the cathedral drew your eyes ever heavenward.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I pulled into a parking space in a side street near my old family home and walked briskly around to the West Front of the cathedral.\u0026nbsp; Even though Bishop George's phone call had sounded urgent, I had to stop for a moment to admire fine tracery carved into the ancient and mellow stones; to look at the carved faces of the saints that adorned the cathedral.\u0026nbsp; I hurried in to the echoing coolness of the Galilee porch and on through the West Doors. \u0026nbsp;As my eyes adjusted to the light inside the nave I was greeted by the sight of Bishop George, Dean Grayson, and the cathedral precentor standing in a huddle near the font.\u0026nbsp; As I came closer, I could hear a muted conversation, which came to an abrupt halt when the precentor saw me.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Now, the precentor was a good friend of mine - we had both trained together and had worked together on the cathedral's choir project.\u0026nbsp; He was a slightly built and highly strung hare who had a bad habit of pulling on his ears when he was nervous (which, for as long as I had known him, was most of the time).\u0026nbsp; He beckoned me over.\n\n'Thank you for coming, Francis.'\u0026nbsp; He said.\n\n'Indeed - good to see you.'\u0026nbsp; Added Bishop George.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I smiled and said my good evenings.\u0026nbsp; My smile faded as I was caught in the withering gaze of the Dean.\u0026nbsp; Now, everyone I knew loved Dean Grayson, she was an elegant timber wolf and a wonderful pastor, but behind her back she was generally called the Ice Wolf.\u0026nbsp; This stemmed from her often rather distant manner, but we only ever called her that in jest; as she was one of the kindest priests in the diocese.\u0026nbsp; This look she was giving me, though, was different.\u0026nbsp; If I hadn't known her better, I would have said she hated my guts, but this was worse: she was scared.\n\n'Father Shepherd,' She said, 'We've got a serious problem.\u0026nbsp; Bishop George thought that you might be able to help.'\n\nBehind her, the precentor jigged from paw to paw.\n\n'It's Harry!'\u0026nbsp; He blurted out.\n\n'Sorry Charlie?'\u0026nbsp; I said, 'Harry who?'\n\nBy now Charlie was wilting under the combined stares of the Bishop and the Dean.\u0026nbsp; He pulled on his ear again, his face melting slowly into panic.\n\n'You know,' He mumbled 'Harry Cormack, from seminary - he took over your dad's old parish.'\n\nDean Grayson put a paw to her eyes and let out a sigh.\n\n'Please do shut up, Hopes.'\u0026nbsp; She said, 'Before our precentor babbles anymore, I think that we should move to my study.\u0026nbsp; The cathedral proctors are keeping an eye on Reverend Cormack.\u0026nbsp; If you would be so kind My Lord?'\n\nThis was to Bishop George, as she began to propel him gently towards the north door of the nave.\u0026nbsp; As we passed back out into the sunlight, I grabbed Hopes' shoulder.\n\n'What's going on?'\u0026nbsp; I asked, 'why is the Ice Wolf so worried?'\n\n'Can't say!'\u0026nbsp; Squeaked Hopes, 'I hope Harry doesn't do something, erm... _Silly_.'\n\n'Harry?\u0026nbsp; You don't mean _Harry Cormack_?\u0026nbsp; The action-adventure lynx?'\u0026nbsp; I said as it sunk in.\n\n'Yes!'\u0026nbsp; It looked as if Hopes was about to faint dead away.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Now I was beginning to be worried.\u0026nbsp; Harry Cormack was the most level-headed students from my time at seminary.\u0026nbsp; He was ex-army and an outdoors nut. I remembered how, in our first year, he persuaded me, Charlie Hopes and Brian Strix to go on what he called a 'camping weekend', but it turned out to be a forty-eight-hour survival course in the middle of nowhere.\u0026nbsp; He just exuded an air of quiet, unflappable competence, unlike most of us at seminary.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; My worries continued to mount as we entered Dean Grayson's study.\u0026nbsp; It was tidy.\u0026nbsp; Normally the Dean's study was scattered around with books, it was rumoured that she had somehow worked out an efficient system of mess.\u0026nbsp; This untidiness shocked anyone who had only met her officially - it just didn't seem to fit with the Ice Wolf.\u0026nbsp; As far as I knew she only tidied when she was worried.\u0026nbsp; We all took seats around the low coffee table.\u0026nbsp; Dean Grayson looked to Bishop George and he cleared his throat:\n\n'Reverend Harry Cormack came into the cathedral this afternoon.\u0026nbsp; He didn't say a word to anyone, but at some point he managed to force the lock on the door to the south west tower and got into the triforium.\u0026nbsp; It was then that he shouted down to one of the proctors that he wanted to speak to me and to you, Father Francis.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; 'Since then he has gone quiet again.\u0026nbsp; He has barricaded himself in the triforium, but we've got the proctors keeping an eye on him from ground level.\u0026nbsp; Needless to say we are all very worried.'\n\nDean Grayson leant forward:\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; 'We are going to close the cathedral to visitors.\u0026nbsp; I have moved the regular services into the Lady Chapel for the rest of the day.\u0026nbsp; Hopes has called the Fire Brigade, but at the moment there's nothing more we can do.\u0026nbsp; He wants to talk to you, Father Shepherd.\u0026nbsp; He has said that he will only talk to you and that he wants Bishop George present.'\n\nShe leant back again, her tail twitching slightly as she studied my features.\u0026nbsp; I scratched my muzzle.\n\n'So now what?'\u0026nbsp; I asked.\n\n'We need to wait until the cathedral is clear.'\u0026nbsp; She replied, 'I think it would be for the best if you would take Canon Hopes home and try to calm him down.\u0026nbsp; I'll send a proctor for you once they've got everyone out of the building.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; And with that, I was dismissed.\u0026nbsp; I nudged Hopes and we left the room.\u0026nbsp; As the door swung shut behind us, I heard Bishop George start to speak:\n\n'Well, of all the clergy, I wouldn't expect...'\n\nI walked slowly across the courtyard with Hopes.\u0026nbsp; At his front door he fumbled with his key and let us in.\u0026nbsp; Hopes waved me distractedly towards the sofa and disappeared through into the kitchen, presently I heard the rattling of crockery and the sound of the kettle being filled.\u0026nbsp; It always amazed me how, even in the worst of situations, so many clergy and parishioners would default to making tea as a distraction.\u0026nbsp; I have lost count of the times I had had to sit with the bereaved, with parishioners slowly dying and all they could think of was to make a cup of tea.\u0026nbsp; I looked around Hopes' living room: every flat surface was covered with little devotional knick-knacks - it seemed that his collection had grown somewhat since I had last seen him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA few minutes later Hopes reappeared with two mugs of tea and plonked them without ceremony on his coffee table.\u0026nbsp; He sat down in the arm chair opposite me and looked at me, his whiskers twitching.\u0026nbsp; I reached out for a mug and was grabbed by the paw.\u0026nbsp; I looked up to find Hopes' nose inches from the end of my muzzle.\u0026nbsp; I yelped and started backward, Hopes jumped and folded up into his armchair.\n\n'Sorry,' He said, 'I'm just worried about Harry, have you spoken to him recently?'\n\nI thought for a moment, and then said:\n\n'No, I haven't spoken to him since Christmas, I think.'\n\n'I haven't spoken to him in a while either.'\u0026nbsp; Said Hopes, 'It seems funny to say that, what with him living just the other side of the cathedral.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; At that moment, there is a sharp knocking on the door which caused Hopes to jump out of his chair.\u0026nbsp; Once he had regained his composure, he wrenched the door open to reveal the figure of one of the cathedral proctors.\u0026nbsp; The proctor cleared his throat and scratched the tip of his nose with one claw before saying:\n\n'The Dean says Father Francis is to go to the cathedral now.\u0026nbsp; We think that Reverend Cormack is in one of the galleries in the South transept.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I thanked Hopes for the tea and asked him to keep his mobile switched on and then followed the proctor back to the cathedral.\u0026nbsp; The sinking sun had all but disappeared behind the houses of the close and the building stood in semi-darkness - here and there, there was a splash of light and colour as a ray of sunlight lanced through one of the stained glass windows.\u0026nbsp; I could make out Bishop George and Dean Grayson standing under the crossing both looking up towards the ceiling of the South transept.\u0026nbsp; I joined them and they both nodded to me.\u0026nbsp; No further instruction seemed to be forthcoming so I decided to take the initiative.\u0026nbsp; If Harry Cormack wanted to talk to me I would let him know I was there.\n\n'Harry!?'\u0026nbsp; I shouted, 'Are you up there?'\n\nThe Dean glared at me, she clearly had a plan of action worked out, but before she could berate me an answer floated down from the heights of the cathedral roof.\n\n'Francis?\u0026nbsp; Is that you?\u0026nbsp; Come further into the transept so I can see you properly.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I admit that I jumped at the sound of Harry's voice.\u0026nbsp; I always remembered him as being full of confidence and calmness, but now his voice was shaking and weak.\u0026nbsp; I stumbled slightly as the Dean pushed me into the transept.\u0026nbsp; I looked up and could just make out a faint shape among the crowded pillars and railings of the gallery.\n\n'Yes Harry, it's me.\u0026nbsp; I'm told you want to speak to me.'\u0026nbsp; I shouted.\n\n'I do, but I only want to speak to you: you'll have to come up to me.\u0026nbsp; I won't shout this across the cathedral.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I looked back to the Dean and the Bishop and they both offered eloquent shrugs that spoke as loudly as words the message:_well, we don't know what to do now - you might as well go up there._\u0026nbsp; As it seemed that no help was coming from my senior colleagues I let myself into the cathedral sacristy and headed up the winding spiral stairs to the triforium.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; By the time I had reached the triforium, my ears and tail were covered in dust and cobwebs.\u0026nbsp; I stood for a moment then sneezed violently.\u0026nbsp; I made my way along the cramped passageway.\u0026nbsp; As I walked, I tried my best to remove the cobwebs that had tangled themselves around my ears and in my fur.\u0026nbsp; A few steps further and the passageway turned abruptly right.\u0026nbsp; On my right side I now had a vertiginous view some eighty feet down to the marble floor of the transept.\u0026nbsp; Ahead, I could see Harry, slumped against one of the pillars.\u0026nbsp; As I neared, he looked up.\u0026nbsp; I was shocked, Harry looked haggard, his fur was unkempt and his shoulders drooping.\u0026nbsp; He smiled at me wanly.\n\n'Hello, Nerd.'\u0026nbsp; He said.\n\nI smiled to hear my nickname again - it went with the territory: I came to seminary with two large cases - one of clothes and one full of computer.\n\n'Hi, Harry,' I replied, 'What's wrong?\u0026nbsp; Why are you up here?'\n\nHe sighed and looked down into the cathedral.\u0026nbsp; In the distance visitors were filing into the Lady Chapel for Evensong.\n\n'Is that the Ice Wolf down there?'\u0026nbsp; He asked.\n\n'The very same, well you are sitting almost on the roof of her cathedral.'\u0026nbsp; I said, and added, 'Bishop George is down there as well.'\n\n'Hmm...' Was the only reply that was forthcoming.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We sat in silence for a while: Harry staring at nothing.\u0026nbsp; As we sat, I watched the motes of dust floating lazily in the last rays of sunlight.\u0026nbsp; At the far end of the nave there came a series of clunks and an electric buzzing noise as the lights were switched on.\n\n'I don't think we've spoken since Christmas.'\u0026nbsp; Said Harry quietly.\n\n'Yes,' I said, 'Well, I was busy with moving to my new parish and making sure that Charlie wouldn't get frightened to death by a chorister.'\n\nIt was a weak excuse and I knew it.\u0026nbsp; Harry grunted and stared at me:\n\n'Ten years ago today.'\u0026nbsp; He said, 'Ten years since the attack.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Now I understood.\u0026nbsp; During his time in the army, Harry had been the commander of a light tank company.\u0026nbsp; Captain Harry Cormack - he showed me a photograph once of him and his unit.\u0026nbsp; They were young and happy, fit body of animals.\u0026nbsp; Then they were sent off on a peacekeeping mission.\u0026nbsp; Some small country that had split away from a disintegrating empire.\u0026nbsp; My memory was of unpronounceable names and grainy video footage of grey muddy fields and grey muddy animals.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; In that photograph had been someone who looked just like me, the same white flash on his muzzle.\u0026nbsp; When it was taken that dog was the same age as I was when I joined Anskar's University.\u0026nbsp; He didn't get much older.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Harry and his unit had been sent to scout out some local villages, by now merely groups of blackened shells where the houses had once stood.\u0026nbsp; At seminary Harry had told me of one village where only the church had been left standing; of how the weak sunlight gleaming off the gilding of the church's onion dome had been both the most out of place and the most beautiful thing he had seen.\u0026nbsp; Harry's unit had crawled up a steep mountain road hemmed in on either side by thick pine forests.\u0026nbsp; He had told me that it was quite still except for the clanking of the tank tracks and the droning of the big diesel engines.\u0026nbsp; Then the attack came.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Here Harry had stopped speaking.\u0026nbsp; I had felt a chill in his seminary study as he passed me a transcript of the enquiry report.\u0026nbsp; Even these years later I can feel the thin, official paper and see the cold, mechanical typeface.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \\*\\*\\* Continues:\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; 576187 Cormack, HR [Captain] and the element under his command were ordered to conduct surveillance of XXXXX.\u0026nbsp; The unit approached XXXXX from the south.\u0026nbsp; Approximately 1.5 kilometres from target, Capt. Cormack's unit came under sustained and heavy fire from rebel forces.\u0026nbsp; Capt. Cormack made best attempt to extract his unit from unfavourable terrain.\u0026nbsp; It is not known how Allied intelligence services were unable to warn of rebel forces operating in the vicinity of XXXXX.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; It is the conclusion of this court of enquiry that 576187 Cormack, HR [Captain] acquitted himself with honour and bravery.\u0026nbsp; Furthermore, no blame should be attached to Capt. Cormack for the loss of those serving under him.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; This court recommends that 576187 Cormack, HR [Captain] be discharged from military service with honour and a full pension.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; ENDS.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Harry was left with fifteen lives on his conscience.\u0026nbsp; He never felt able to pay back what he considered a debt of honour.\u0026nbsp; I realised Harry was talking to me in the here-and-now:\n\n'I see their faces every night, Nerd.'\u0026nbsp; He said, his voice barely a whisper, 'I can't take it.\u0026nbsp; Stress they've called it: Post-Traumatic Stress.\u0026nbsp; But, it's those guys crying out, those guys who died in fear and pain.\u0026nbsp; What can I do, Nerd?\u0026nbsp; I can't even pray.'\n\nBy now tears were flowing freely down his cheeks.\n\n'I was going to jump,' He continued, 'Eighty feet and gone, but I can't, I just can't take that way out.'\n\nI laid a paw on his arm and he grabbed it.\u0026nbsp; I thought for a moment, then said:\n\n'Come down, Harry.\u0026nbsp; Let me pray for them.\u0026nbsp; We'll go into Bishop East's chantry chapel and I'll pray.\u0026nbsp; And, I think you need a break from your parish.\u0026nbsp; I'll sort it out with the Ice Wolf and the Archdeacon, but come and spend some time with me in the country.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Harry said nothing, but stood up and allowed me to guide him out of the gallery and back down to the cathedral floor.\u0026nbsp; As we come out of the sacristy, the Bishop and the Dean hurried over, but I waved them away.\u0026nbsp; We walked slowly to the chantry chapel just off the nave.\u0026nbsp; Inside I knelt beside Harry in silence, praying for each animal who had died in the attack,\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We stayed there for some fifteen minutes.\u0026nbsp; When we came out both Garrison and Bishop George were waiting:\n\n'Harry's coming to stay with me for a few weeks.' I said, 'Sarah, could you sort cover for Harry's parish with the Archdeacon?\u0026nbsp; Bishop, I'll phone you in the morning.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; They both nodded.\u0026nbsp; In an unguarded moment, I realised that for the first time ever, I had actually used Dean Grayson's Christian name.\u0026nbsp; I gathered myself and took Harry to my car.\u0026nbsp; Minutes later we were heading back home.\u0026nbsp; We drove home in silence, Harry very quickly falling asleep.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"In the Service of Mystery","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1025005-in-the-service-of-mystery-pt-4.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1033356-in-the-service-of-mystery-pt-6.json"}}