Parker didn’t hide anything from the police, because he had very little to hide. It was an unusual position in which to find himself. He had grown used to avoidance, half-truths, and outright lies. He found the opportunity for relative honesty slightly unsettling.
Sleet fell, slowly turning to snow. The Collector’s body remained on the ground, covered by a sheet, and at last it was decided that the time had come to take it away. Parker watched the removal, and eventually the police conceded that he could go too, yet he lingered. He felt a sense of failure. He was surrounded by pieces of a puzzle, but could not make them fit into a coherent whole. Eklund was still missing. Michelle Souliere was dead. Tobey Thayer, at least, was alive. And the Buckners, hosts of a gathering that had, according to the police, resulted in at least four deaths so far – five if Souliere’s murder could be linked to them – had dropped off the map.
All investigations have their own momentum. Some are driven by the investigators while others drag the investigators along behind, their impetus a product of factors beyond the influence of those seeking answers. For Parker, this was just such an inquiry: he felt himself always to be a step behind, and had been so from the very start, ever since Ross had chosen to withhold whatever might be the true reason for his interest in Jaycob Eklund.
Parker stood amid the falling snow, the flakes descending like fragments of paper, the detritus of a greater record to which he would now never be privy, tumbling and accumulating to further conceal the missing and the dead, the victims of a belief that somewhere in the past a bargain had been struck to stave off damnation.
Belial: according to Eldritch, this was the name of the entity with which Peter Magus had claimed to commune. Belial, the fairest of all who fell from heaven, fairer even than Lucifer himself; Belial the angel of hostility, the demon of lies. Peter Magus promised his followers that he had made a compact with a spirit, and as a consequence they would not be punished in the next life for their sins. All that was required in return was sacrifice. They would buy the safety of generations with the lives of others. But the deal was struck with a being that thrived on deception, and so was based on deceit. Whether the creature Belial existed or not was inconsequential. What mattered was that Peter Magus managed to convince his acolytes of its objective reality, and their descendants had been killing to protect themselves and their forebears ever since.
Men and women moved through Donn Routh’s home, seeking out the secrets of his life. Parker caught the shapes of them, like ghosts against the drapes. He left them to their work, and headed north.
Two sheriff’s deputies stood close to Steven Lee’s body as it was taken away. His mother had been removed from the little house that she and her son shared. She spoke only one word as she was placed in the car, her son’s body visible to her at the far end of the lot.
‘Murderers.’
Snow was settling on the deputies. If they remained where they were for much longer, someone would have to mark them with an orange pole so they could be found in the drifts.
‘That car stinks,’ said one.
‘It’s a Firenza,’ said the other. ‘My sister used to have one. Piece of shit.’
‘No, it stinks.’
They drew closer to it. The interior of the windowless car was empty, the trunk locked. The older of the two men found the release mechanism and popped the trunk.
Instantly, Jaycob Eklund ceased to be missing.
96
The pace of the arrests increased. Esther and Allan Sherwood were detained while making for the Canadian border in their van, their destination clear from the Canadian dollars and travel guides to Quebec found in their possession. Within hours, all those who had been present at the meeting in the Buckner house, with the exception of the hosts themselves, were being interrogated, along with their children, their children’s friends, and anyone with whom they happened to be even on nodding terms.
The answers given by the Buckners’ immediate kin were similar enough to cause the detectives involved to suspect, not unreasonably, that the various parties had colluded in the creation of a cover story. Even Steven Lee’s mother professed to being unaware of how Jaycob Eklund’s body had come to occupy the trunk of a car in the family scrapyard, and was therefore unable to clarify the extent of her son’s involvement in the private investigator’s death, and whether the appearance of a corpse on their business premises might represent an aberration or a more regular occurrence.
But the balance was shifting against the Brethren, in this world and another. Peter Magus had made a blood covenant, but it required successive generations of his family to service the debt. Now four of them – Donn Routh, Richard, Sumner, and Steven Lee – were dead, and it was not yet clear how many of those who remained might find themselves behind bars.
Weakness. Vulnerability.
The predators were circling.
Tobey Thayer woke in his hospital bed. He felt a tingling in his fingers and toes. He put it down to his current circumstances until a girl’s voice, one he did not recognize, whispered
come see
He closed his eyes again and joined her.
Thayer was back in the city of shadows, but it was different. The streets were empty, although he sensed movement behind closed doors and shuttered windows, and a kind of watchfulness.
Before him lay the fortress of the Brethren. It stood in isolation, with scorched earth before and scrubland behind. Figures surrounded it, mostly men with gray skin wrinkled like rotten fruit, some women scattered among their number, although gender had long ceased to have meaning for any of them. They stood unmoving, watching the fortress, waiting.
Thayer shivered. It was cold here. When he breathed out, his breath was like smoke from a hidden fire.
A girl appeared beside him. She looked like a child and spoke with the voice of a child, but her eyes were ancient. She took his hand. Her touch was warm. He stopped shivering.
‘Who are they?’ he asked.
hollow men
‘Why are they here?’
the one they hated is dead
A Hollow Man looked back, as though alerted to their presence by her words, and the empty pits of his eyes were like holes gouged in old mud.
but without him they’re lost
‘So they want to join these others?’
no
they want to punish them
And with that, the Hollow Men descended upon the fortress.
97
Kirk and Sally made it to Jaycob Eklund’s cabin while it was still dark, and Kirk broke a pane of glass on the back door so they could gain access. They had learned about the existence of the cabin from Eklund, while he was being encouraged to describe the purpose of each of the keys on his key chain so that Donn Routh would have no trouble entering his home. The interior was simply furnished, with a small kitchen adjoining a living area, a bedroom and bathroom beyond, and an insulated extension to the rear made of brick clad with wood. The extension housed a single room with a toilet in one corner, a showerhead to the side, and a drain in the floor. Otherwise, it was entirely empty, and smelled of bleach. It reminded Kirk of a prison cell.
Although neither he nor Sally was hungry, they realized the importance of keeping their strength up, so Kirk made franks and beans from their own supplies and contents of Eklund’s kitchen closets. The cabin didn’t have a TV or an Internet connection, so the Buckners weren’t yet aware that Eklund’s body had been found in Steven Lee’s yard, but Kirk knew that they wouldn’t be able to remain in these woods for long. They’d sleep, stock up on necessities, and do their best to alter their appearance before continuing on their way.
Kirk risked lighting a fire. It was dark, and the cabin stood at the end of a trail, well hidden from the surrounding properties, which were few. Kirk held Sally, and wondered how he could ever have conceived of abandoning her. She lay against his chest, trembling like a bird. She had barely spoken to him since they arrived, but her lips had never stopped moving
. Had he not known better, he might have thought she was praying.
Kirk was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, even if it was only for a couple of hours. He closed his eyes as desire became reality.
Fire was blooming in the heart of the fortress. Thayer watched the Brethren try to flee the conflagration, but none escaped the Hollow Men. The girl never let go of Thayer’s hand throughout, but gazed with equanimity on all that was transpiring.
Thayer heard a sound from the black skies, as of the beating of great wings. He looked up and saw nothing, yet he knew that a presence was circling high above. Dark smoke rose in a funnel from the stockade as the Brethren were transformed, and a hole began to open in the clouds to accept them, its periphery ringed with red.
The beating grew louder. Voices screamed, the clouds split, and Thayer glimpsed for an instant a massive form, a being terrible in its flawless beauty and implacable in its animosity. Its wings were those of a great predatory bird, its hands and feet curved like talons, its face rapacious with lust, its androgyny hinting at appetites that could never be satisfied. It shone with a brightness that served almost to disguise the depravity of its features, the outward manifestation of its profound corruption. If this was the creature with which Peter Magus had made his bargain, then Peter Magus was a fool.
And still the flames grew, and still they fed upon the Brethren.
Kirk woke to darkness. The fire in the hearth was reduced to glowing embers, and all the warmth had gone from the room. Sally was no longer beside him. He called her name, but even as he did so he saw her standing by the kitchen doorway. She was staring fixedly at a point in the center of the room, and he knew that whatever she was seeing was not of this world. Sally’s face was a rictus of horror, and she was shaking her head, her mouth forming the word no over and over, moving from silence, to a whisper, and finally to a scream.
‘Eleanor – No!’
Sally was watching Eleanor burn. Fragments of skin flaked from Eleanor’s face and ascended, blackening as they went. Eleanor’s lips were stretched wide, exposing yellowed teeth, and her eyes were squeezed shut with the agony of her disintegration. Sally extended her hands, and as she did so two forms appeared at either side of Eleanor, their skin gray and wrinkled. One of them grasped her hair, yanking her head back, while the other reached deep into her mouth. It stared at Sally across the gap between worlds, and she heard it speak her name as a promise just before it wrenched Eleanor’s tongue from her mouth.
The fortress had crumbled. The screaming had ceased.
Peter Magus stood alone in the ruins, surrounded by the Hollow Men. Above them all circled the angel, so huge that it could only be glimpsed in parts as it moved across the gap in the clouds. As Thayer watched, Peter Magus lifted his arms to the sky and cried out the name of the entity that had betrayed him at the last, even as the Hollow Men tore at him and his spirit began to burn.
Thayer looked away. He tried to let go of the girl’s hand, but she would not release him.
‘I want to go back now,’ he told her.
you can’t
‘Why?’
you know why
And he did. He had known it ever since he’d been brought to this place by the girl, but had not wanted to admit it.
‘I never got to say goodbye to my wife, to my children.’
i am sorry
And she was.
walk with me
i will take you to the sea
98
Dawn came. Kirk woke to a buzzing sound. He thought it might have been a snowmobile, but he could see no sign of it from the windows. The fire was low, but still gave off some heat. Sally must have replenished it while he slept. They’d have to let it die. They couldn’t risk someone spotting the smoke.
Sally was sitting in a corner of Eklund’s living room, her chin resting on her knees, gazing silently at the light around the drapes slowly growing brighter. Kirk tried to talk with her, but couldn’t get a response, and eventually grew tired of the effort. He searched in Eklund’s freezer and extracted a loaf of bread with the consistency of a brick, and a pack of bacon. He used the microwave to defrost both, and set about preparing breakfast. He made a pot of coffee while he worked, and listened to the radio. He thought he might go out later and find somewhere he could access the Internet. It was important to establish just how bad their circumstances were.
Music played. A bird passed overhead, large or low enough for Kirk to discern the beating of its wings. He didn’t know much about nature, but they were out in the sticks and there had to be some big birds of prey in the woods. Maybe he’d see an eagle. He’d never caught sight of one in the wild, only in zoos.
He wondered what would happen if Sally didn’t come out of her daze. He couldn’t haul her around like a zombie. If they were to survive this, they both needed to be alert. Maybe it was the taste of the coffee, and the smell of frying bacon, but he was starting to believe that escape might be possible. Eleanor was gone, and probably the others too; that much, at least, he’d managed to get out of Sally. Perhaps it was all over at last, and whatever had taken Eleanor and the rest would be satisfied with their immolation. The old Brethren might be finished, but he and Sally were still here. They were alive. They could start again.
The bacon was about ready, and two slices of the defrosted bread had just popped up from the toaster. He freshened his coffee, filled a mug for Sally, and divided the food between two plates. He’d force her to eat, if he had to. He’d feed her like a child, or a baby bird.
He stepped into the living room. Sally’s blanket lay discarded on the floor nearby, but she was nowhere to be seen. He checked the bathroom, and the weird little extension at the back of the house, but both were empty. He went to the front door of the cabin and tried to open it. A weight pulled against him. He yanked harder, and this time the door moved slightly, just enough for him to see what was on the other side.
Sally was kneeling on the ground. She had taken off her blouse, tying one end around her neck and the other to the ornamental metal loop at the center of the door before using her own weight to tighten the noose. Her face was a reddish-purple, and her tongue hung from her mouth. Her skin was still warm to the touch.
Kirk started to untie the knot around the door handle in the hope that he might yet revive her, then paused. If he managed to bring Sally back to consciousness, he would not be able to take her to a hospital. If he left her and called for an ambulance along the way, it might not take the police long to identify her and come after him.
Kirk stood over his sister. He braced himself with one foot against the inside of the door, placed his hands on her shoulders, and pushed down. He thought he heard her make a sound, but he could have been mistaken. Even if she had, Kirk convinced himself that it was probably not a sign of life, only the last of the air leaving her body.
He returned to the kitchen, found a knife, and used it to cut the noose. He dragged Sally into the living room and laid her on the floor. As an afterthought, he placed the blanket over her, covering her face. When that was done, he went back to the kitchen for the last time. He ate some of the bacon and toast, and put what was left in Saran Wrap for later. He dug up a Thermos from Eklund’s kitchen closet and filled it with coffee. Finally, he scavenged whatever else might be of use – some books, a Swiss Army knife, a couple of sweaters and shirts, a coat, a pair of jeans that were just slightly too long – and added them to a big tote bag. He placed the bag beside the door and looked back at Sally’s body. There was no point in wasting the time it would take to bury her. He’d cleaned up as he best he could, but if the police came to the house they would know from the fire and the stove that someone had been there. His wife’s corpse wouldn’t make much difference either way.
‘Goodbye, Sally,’ he said.
He opened the door and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
99
It had been a hunch on Parker’s part, but a reasonable one based on the discovery of Eklund??
?s body at the wrecking yard, and his own knowledge of the existence of Eklund’s cabin. He’d made the call to Art Currier, who had in turn got in touch with Eklund’s nearest neighbor. A quick look at the property had confirmed the presence of a car, but Art had taken the trouble to head over himself while Parker was still on the road, just to be sure.
Kirk Buckner didn’t try to fight or run – not that there would have been any point, not with Angel and Louis holding guns on him as well. He lay on the ground, just as he was ordered, and allowed Parker to remove the pistol from the pocket of his jacket. It still had the safety on.
‘Where’s your wife?’ Parker asked him.
‘Inside. She’s dead. And she wasn’t my wife. She was my sister.’
Parker didn’t even bother exploring the subject further. This wasn’t the time.
Angel risked a glance into the house, Louis at the other side of the door. ‘We have a body on the floor. It’s got a blanket over its upper half.’
Parker secured Buckner’s hands with plastic ties from his car while Angel approached the body, Louis covering him. Angel yanked the blanket away, revealing Sally Buckner’s swollen face. He checked for a pulse, although he could see that she was dead.
‘She’s gone,’ he told Parker.
‘She hanged herself,’ said Buckner. ‘From the door handle.’
He stared up at Parker.
‘I didn’t kill her,’ he added. ‘Not even a little.’
They held off on calling the police. They didn’t have much choice as there was no cell phone signal, so one of them would have to head back to the main road to make the call, or prevail upon Eklund’s neighbor for the use of his phone.
Parker took the opportunity to search the cabin, but there wasn’t much to look at: just the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the main bedroom. The bedroom and bathroom, like the rest of the house, showed signs only of male occupation, but the books on the shelves of the living room, and the DVDs alongside them, were an odd mix of male and female tastes, more appropriate to a space shared by a couple.