A church art exhibition turns deadly . . . 'Art, my dear boy, ' said Mr Askern, 'especially sacred art, needs tradition. Tradition is the bedrock of our art . . .' He broke off, staring at the woman in front of him. Her face seemed to lose all definition and her skin turned an unnatural shade of putty-coloured grey. 'Art, ' she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. 'Art Oh my God, art ' She swayed dangerously. Jack leapt forward, catching...