Dead Man Walking
I looked thoughtfully at Doyle. ‘How do you know about the cases the Colonel and I worked on together?’
‘It’s in your file,’ said Hayley. ‘Along with some other interesting facts. You first joined the Organization in 1963. Which would make you a contemporary of Frank Parker.’
‘Except there’s a good forty years difference between the way you look,’ said Doyle. ‘What happened? Was your plastic surgery much more successful than his?’
‘Perhaps,’ I said carefully, ‘I am not the first agent to use the Ishmael Jones name.’
Doyle and Hayley looked at each other.
‘Of course,’ said Hayley. ‘I knew there was no way any one man could have done all the things Ishmael Jones is supposed to have done.’
‘It does make sense,’ said Doyle.
‘Now answer the question,’ said Hayley.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘What question was that?’
‘Why, out of all the field agents at his disposal, did the previous Colonel pick you to work with?’ said Hayley. ‘Especially when he shouldn’t have been out in the field himself anyway?’
‘That sounds less like a question,’ I said, ‘and more like an accusation. I worked with the Colonel on occasion because that was the way he wanted it. Beyond that, I never asked and he never said. Now I work with Penny, because that’s the way I want it. And as long as I continue to get results, the Organization doesn’t give a damn how I do the things I do.’
And then I stopped and looked up, as the lights in the lounge flickered for several moments, before becoming steady again. Penny and I stood up and looked around the lounge. The lights flickered again, more noticeably this time. As though someone was nudging the switches. Hayley took in the look on our faces and rose to her feet, followed immediately by Doyle.
‘What is it?’ said Hayley, not bothering to keep her voice down any more. ‘What’s wrong? The lights? Just faulty wiring? You have to expect things like that in a house this old.’
‘That’s not all you can find in some old houses,’ said Penny. ‘Martin warned us about this.’
‘Warned you about what?’ said Doyle.
‘He’s seen lights flickering before,’ I said. ‘And lights turning themselves off and on, for no good reason. He says he’s checked, and there’s nothing wrong with the wiring or the generator or main systems. He blames … not necessarily natural means.’
‘Ghosts?’ said Hayley. ‘Martin thinks the spirits of the dead are running around turning the lights on and off? What does he think they’ll do next? Tie our shoelaces together when we’re not looking?’
‘But it would be very bad if the lights went out,’ said Doyle. ‘That would be horrible.’
Something in his voice made all of us turn to look at him. Doyle was peering around the room with almost childlike fear and anticipation. All the colour had disappeared from his face, and his mouth was trembling. The progress he’d made from his previous fright had been undone in a moment. Hayley patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice.
I looked carefully around the lounge. The lights were steady again now, bright and cheerful. But the darkness beyond the great bay window was worryingly complete. I couldn’t even make out a glimpse of the grounds beyond. I was seized by a sudden certainty that the world outside was gone, swallowed up by the dark, and only we were left in this small island of light. Something cold settled in the pit of my stomach, and my hands clenched into fists. Hayley gave us all her fiercest scowl.
‘This ghost nonsense has got to stop!’ she said loudly. ‘Whatever people might be seeing or think they’re seeing, there’s nothing supernatural going on here.’
‘That’s not what you said earlier,’ said Penny.
‘That was then,’ said Hayley. ‘We have a real problem now, with a real murderer somewhere at large in the Lodge. We can’t allow ourselves to be distracted by such … fancies.’
‘I was always afraid of the dark, as a child,’ said Doyle. ‘Back then there were no street lights where I lived, so when my mother turned off the bedroom light it was very dark. And I would lie there too scared to sleep, worrying that the rest of the world had gone away and I was all that was left. Sometimes a car would go past in the road outside and for a moment my room would be full of light and sound and hope; and then the car would move on, taking its light and sound with it, and I would be left alone in the dark.’
We all looked round sharply, turning to face the door as we heard footsteps outside the lounge, heading down the corridor towards us. The same kind of footsteps Penny and I had heard outside our room, up on the top floor. Slow and deliberate, and far too heavy to be human. Doyle made a soft desperate sound, and Hayley grabbed hold of his arm with both hands. None of us took our eyes off the door as the footsteps drew steadily nearer, heavy and deliberate, and invested with terrible intent. Penny moved in close beside me, her face set and determined.
And yet, for all the sound and fury of the footsteps, I couldn’t feel any vibrations through the floor. Steps that heavy should have made a hell of an impact, and the vibrations should have carried on through the wooden floorboards … But I wasn’t picking up anything, as though whatever was making the footsteps had no physical presence at all.
‘Martin?’ I said, raising my voice. ‘Can you see if there’s anyone outside the lounge? Martin!’
There was no response. Just the sound of the footsteps drawing menacingly closer.
‘Why can’t he hear us?’ said Doyle. His face was wet with sweat, and there was a lost, fey look to his eyes that I really didn’t like. ‘Martin said he had microphones in every room. He must be able to hear us!’
He jerked his arm free of Hayley and waved his hands above his head, trying to attract Martin’s attention.
‘Robbie, no!’ said Hayley. ‘We don’t need Martin. We can handle this.’
Doyle’s arms dropped to his sides. He was breathing heavily. And when he looked at Hayley, his eyes were full of terrible apprehension.
‘It’s out there,’ he said. ‘And it wants in.’
‘What does?’ said Hayley.
‘The dark,’ said Doyle.
The footsteps crashed to a halt, right outside the lounge door. And then there was a long pause. Not a sound to be heard. Hayley and Doyle had their eyes fixed on the door. Penny and I glanced at each other, and I was surprised to find a mischievous gleam in her eyes. My heart warmed as I realized that out of all of us in the room she was the only one who wanted to open the door and see what was there. Just for the satisfaction of knowing. I grinned at her, and she grinned back.
Something knocked on the door. Loud, heavy knocks. But the door didn’t shiver once in its frame. As though it felt nothing, as though the knocks had no physical impact. I headed for the door, and Penny was right there beside me.
‘No!’ said Doyle. ‘Please don’t open that door. Don’t let it in.’
I stopped and looked back at him. ‘Why not?’ I said, as kindly as I could. ‘What could be out there that would be so bad? If it’s dark, we’ll turn on some more lights. And if there is someone there, I’ll deal with them. That’s what I’m here for.’
‘But there might be someone out there we really don’t want to see,’ said Hayley. Her voice was surprisingly unsteady. ‘It might be Parker. Standing there, with the knife still stuck in his chest. Smiling, refusing to die, come to kill us.’
‘You’re getting as bad as Doyle,’ I said.
‘Why would Parker want to come after you?’ said Penny. ‘What would he have against you? You didn’t kill him, did you?’
‘No,’ said Doyle. ‘But we left him locked in his cage, trapped and helpless. Left him on his own with death coming for him and nowhere to run.’
‘Who’s there?’ Hayley said loudly to the door, trying hard to sound angry instead of scared. ‘Who’s out there? Answer me!’
There was no response. No answer to her demands, no more knocking, no more footsteps. Just t
his feeling of a presence waiting on the other side of the door. Just a silence, that seemed to have a weight and a substance of its own. Pressing up against the other side of the closed door.
‘Well,’ I said, as lightly as I could, ‘there’s only one way to find out who it is.’
I walked steadily forward, with Penny only a step behind me. I stopped in front of the door and listened carefully, but couldn’t hear anything. I took hold of the door handle and then looked at Penny, making sure she was braced and ready. She nodded quickly.
‘Who do you think it is?’ she said.
‘I think … someone is messing with us,’ I said. ‘And I also think that when I get my hands on them they are going to be very sorry they ever thought this would be funny. Whoever is out there, I’m going to punch them in the head.’
‘What if your fist goes right through them?’ said Penny.
‘If this is just an insubstantial ghost,’ I said patiently, ‘it wouldn’t be able to knock on the door, would it? And it wouldn’t need us to open the door. It would walk right through it.’
‘For someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts, you know an awful lot about them,’ said Penny.
‘It’s hard to avoid ghost stories,’ I said. ‘Your culture is obsessed with death.’
‘Maybe it is Parker,’ said Penny, looking steadily at the door. ‘A dead man walking, with murder on his mind. Not necessarily his own.’
‘Then I shall punch him even harder in the head,’ I said, ‘for making our job more difficult.’
I jerked the door open and stepped out into the corridor. It was completely empty. No sign of anyone, anywhere. No sign to show that anyone had ever been there. The corridor stretched away before us, open and silent and not in any way menacing. It looked back at me quite innocently, as if to say, ‘What are you looking at me for? I’m just a corridor.’
‘Perhaps they ran away?’ said Penny.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We would have heard that.’
‘What about that marvellous bloodhound nose of yours?’ Penny said quietly. ‘Can you smell anyone?’
‘I can smell you, Hayley and Doyle,’ I said. ‘But not even a trace of anyone else. And I am definitely not picking up any of the distinctive odours you would expect to accompany a dead body.’
‘Then what made all those sounds?’ said Penny.
‘Good question,’ I said. ‘It’s like someone’s trying to throw a scare into us …’
Hayley came forward, and looked cautiously out of the door and up and down the corridor. She still had one hand on Doyle’s arm, keeping him close by her. Neither of them looked particularly relieved to see a completely empty corridor.
‘We’re not alone in Ringstone Lodge,’ said Doyle. ‘Something’s in here with us.’
‘Something,’ I agreed.
‘But you still don’t think the place is haunted?’ said Penny.
‘I think someone wants us to think it is,’ I said. ‘I wonder why …’
The lights started flickering again. Not just in the lounge, but all the lights up and down the length of the corridor. Many seemed on the point of going out completely.
‘Oh no,’ said Doyle. ‘Please … Don’t let the lights go out! I don’t think I could stand it.’
‘I’m here with you. Show some backbone!’ Hayley said sharply. She searched quickly through her jacket pockets. ‘I’ve got an emergency torch here with me, somewhere … Don’t let this get to you, Robbie. It’s just someone playing games.’
‘Almost as though someone is trying to get our attention,’ said Penny.
‘Or make a point,’ I said.
‘Did you feel that?’ Doyle said suddenly.
We all turned to look at him. Doyle pulled his arm free of Hayley’s grip and stumbled back into the lounge, looking quickly about him. Hayley went after him, like a mother in pursuit of a small child, but he barely noticed she was there. He waved one hand back and forth before him.
‘What is it, Robbie?’ Hayley said quietly. ‘Did you see something? Hear something? What?’
‘It just got cold,’ said Doyle. ‘Can’t you feel it, Alice? It’s suddenly very cold in here …’
I looked at Penny, and she looked at me.
‘I don’t feel any difference in the temperature,’ I said carefully.
‘Me neither,’ said Penny. ‘Maybe it’s just in one place.’
‘Maybe it’s just in his head,’ I said.
‘A cold spot …’ said Hayley. ‘I’ve read about those. Sudden drops in local temperature, an energy drain to fuel some kind of manifestation.’
‘Can you feel this cold spot?’ I said.
Hayley shook her head reluctantly. ‘No.’
She moved in close beside Doyle, trying to feel what he was feeling, though she obviously wasn’t.
‘How can you not feel this?’ said Doyle. ‘I’m freezing …’
‘Then why isn’t your breath steaming on the air?’ I said.
‘Look!’ Doyle said, pushing back his sleeves. ‘I’ve got gooseflesh!’
‘I think your imagination is running away with you,’ I said.
Doyle rounded on me. ‘Monsters are real in your world? Horrible things watching us from the deepest shadows of the hidden world?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Monsters are real, sometimes. But just because some bad things exist, it doesn’t mean they all do. Sometimes a legend is just a legend. Just because we’re hearing and seeing things we can’t explain, it doesn’t mean there isn’t an explanation.’
‘Yes!’ Penny said brightly. ‘Ghosts.’
I looked at her. ‘Am I going to have to throw a bucket of cold water over you?’
‘Listen up!’ Martin’s voice said suddenly and we all jumped, just a bit. ‘Pay attention! I need to tell you something.’
‘Where the hell have you been?’ I said. ‘Did you leave the security centre again?’
‘What? No!’ said Martin. ‘Of course not. I’ve been here all the time. I did have to use the commode, but it’s on a swivel like the chair so I don’t have to miss anything. Why?’
‘Because we’ve been yelling our heads off,’ said Doyle. ‘Calling to you for help, and you didn’t answer!’
There was a pause. And then Martin said steadily, ‘I didn’t hear you.’
‘I was waving my arms around like an idiot,’ said Doyle. ‘You must have seen that!’
‘I can’t watch all the screens, all the time,’ said Martin. ‘I must have missed you. What’s been happening?’
‘The lights in here have been flickering,’ I said. ‘Though I notice that it seems to have stopped now. And then someone came walking down the corridor to bang on our door. But when I went to look there was no one there. Have you seen anyone moving around in this corridor?’
‘No,’ said Martin. ‘Nobody. Damn! I miss all the good stuff. Let me just check the records … No, no sounds of footsteps or knockings. And no one moving anywhere near the lounge.’
‘What about Baxter and Redd?’ said Hayley. ‘Are they still somewhere on the ground floor?’
‘Yes,’ said Martin. ‘But nowhere near you.’
‘Would your microphones actually be able to record ghostly footsteps?’ Penny asked suddenly.
‘Interesting question,’ said Martin. ‘I suppose if we were hearing them on some psychic level, instead of through our ears, then possibly …’
‘Martin!’ I said sharply. ‘Concentrate! What did you want? You said you needed to tell us something.’
‘Oh, yes!’ said Martin. ‘I’ve caught someone running around, on my screens. Or at least I think I have. The figure comes and goes so quickly that at first I wondered … No! There he is! I’m looking at him right now.’
‘Who is it?’ I said.
‘I think it might be Parker,’ said Martin. ‘It’s just a dim figure … but definitely not one of us.’
‘What makes you think it’s Parker?’ I said.
‘Well, who else could it be???
? said Martin. ‘I can’t get a good look at him, he’s moving too quickly. I’m just getting glimpses as he moves from one screen to another.’
‘Is he setting off the motion trackers?’ said Hayley.
‘No,’ said Martin. ‘No, he isn’t. Which is odd, because he should be. All my systems are working normally, there’s not a red light anywhere.’
‘It could be Parker’s killer,’ said Penny, ‘if we’re really not alone in the Lodge.’
‘Ghosts …’ said Doyle. ‘The restless dead. Nothing rests easily at Ringstone Lodge …’
‘I’m sure I’ve got a sedative about me somewhere,’ said Hayley.
‘Where is this person right now?’ I said. ‘Can you see him, Martin?’
‘He’s on the ground floor,’ Martin said steadily. ‘Or at least he was … I seem to have lost track of him for the moment. But the last I saw of him, he was very definitely heading in your direction – and I don’t think it’s because he fancies a nice sit down and a chat. Look, I don’t think you should stay there. I don’t know whether what I’m seeing is Parker or his killer, but either way it would be a really bad idea if you are still there when he turns up. So get out of there! Now!’
‘Don’t you start getting hysterical,’ I said. ‘Will everybody please calm down! I am a trained field agent, and I will handle whoever or whatever this is.’
‘By punching it in the head,’ said Penny.
‘Always a good start,’ I said. ‘Doctor Hayley, Doctor Doyle, stay here in the lounge. I’ll go see what’s out there. You can lock the door after I’m gone.’
‘I’m going too,’ Penny said quickly. ‘Whatever it is, I want to see it.’
‘Of course you do,’ I said. ‘If you’re very good, I’ll let you punch him in the head as well.’
‘You spoil me,’ said Penny.
‘I can’t lock the door,’ said Hayley. ‘I don’t have a key.’
‘Then use furniture to barricade it,’ I said. ‘Pile up as much as you need to feel safe.’
‘What if the lights go out?’ said Doyle.
‘I’ve got my emergency torch,’ said Hayley.
‘It’s not a very big torch,’ said Doyle.