CHAPTER 25
‘No, I’m against it. Dead against it,’ Adam told them, as they all sat in the kitchen. ‘Why the hell do we need to search the bloody cellar at this time of night?’
‘It’s only just gone nine.’ Fisher didn’t believe he was hearing this.
Belle added, ‘Fisher, look darling, you’re overwrought. Have a glass of wine.’
‘I’m not overwrought. Listen. I saw a guy down on the old runway. He was dressed in lightweight clothes and sandals. He said he—’
‘Wine, Fisher. Have a couple of bottles of red and you’ll sleep like a cadaver.’ That was Adam Ambrose’s typically odd-ball contribution as he sat at the kitchen table. Belle stood behind him massaging his neck.
So Mr Teeth and Hair doesn’t believe me anyway. Fisher chewed his lip. ‘What about Josanne? Her car was stuck in a lake. How did she find her way back here?’
‘We dealt with that ten minutes ago, Fisher.’ With a shake of his head Fabian adopted tones of someone with limited patience explaining the damned obvious to children. ‘Joanne’s car is on the drive. She must have driven it back here.’
‘Without realizing she was in the car, steering it, pushing the pedals?’
‘Josanne suffered from shock. She was nearly killed out there when she came off the road.’
Belle added, ‘And if Josanne ran the car into a lake how do you explain it’s dry inside? There’s no sign of silt or pond weed on the bodywork.’
‘She told us the lake wasn’t deep enough to flood the car. As for mud, it’s been raining,’ Sterling told her. Thank God, Fisher thought, an ally at last. ‘That downpour was so hard it would have blasted every scrap of mud off the paintwork.’
In the kitchen, the argument paused. The dog approached Josanne. She sat with a thick fleece jacket round her shoulders. For the first time since her return she smiled. She held out her hand toward the dog so he’d come to her. Jak appeared in two minds about it. He wagged his tail, but held back.
‘Come on boy … it’s OK.’
Jak dipped his head a couple of times. The tail wagged faster. Then he walked up to her to snuffle his nose into her fingers. She patted his head before stroking his back. He sat close up so he could lean against her leg. Fisher thought, so whatever had clung to her when she appeared back here has gone. Jak knows she’s no longer tainted.
Dogs everywhere have a knack of doing what Jak was doing right now. Lightening atmosphere in a tense situation. Moments ago, everyone in the kitchen appeared to be locking hostile glances. Now nearly everyone watched Josanne stroking the dog as he wagged his tail with pleasure. Fisher took the moment to glance around the room. Adam, Fabian and Josanne sat at the table in the centre of the kitchen. Belle stood behind Adam. Her fingers worked his neck muscles. He closed his eyes, but it didn’t stop him trashing whatever Fisher had to say. Meanwhile, he, Marko and Sterling stood with their backs to the kitchen counter. Sterling needed to be there because he’s the guy with the golden heart; he insisted on warming a pan of chicken soup for Josanne. Of course, what was really happening was obvious to anyone with a shred of understanding of human behaviour. Battle lines were being drawn. The men and women in the room had demonstrated their allegiance to their leader by physically moving to be near him. Fabian had his old friends close. What was left of the old group, Cuspidor, had rallied around Fisher by the kitchen sink. Fabian’s brave vision of this stay at The Tower being an exercise in forging disparate individuals into a united group of musicians wasn’t working yet. After they’d assembled here, with Fabian drying his hair after the soaking in the rain, and Josanne looking so grey she might as well have been dragged off of a mortuary slab, Fisher had begun to tell them about his encounter with Blaxton. He’d almost managed to explain the need to search the cellar for the audio tapes that Blaxton had abandoned fifteen years ago when he fled this forbidding heap of rock. No dice. Fabian, Adam and Belle were having none of it. Josanne sat with them, but she was still so dazed by her ordeal that she took no part in the subsequent discussion. At least now the olive hue had returned to her skin. Jak sensed whatever had gripped her had evaporated.
So, they’d drunk hot coffee. They’d discussed what happened. That discussion degenerated into argument. Fisher glanced through the window. Rain drops slid down the glass. Beyond that there was only unfathomable darkness. Sterling pulled a bowl from a shelf, cut slices of bread from a loaf, then returned to the stove to watch over the soup.
What now? Does Adam expect us all to hit the wine bottle and drink our way out of the dilemma? Fisher couldn’t stay silent. ‘What about Kym?’
‘You think we’re not anxious about her?’ Fabian rolled his eyes. ‘Have you got a bloody monopoly on compassion? Of course we’re all worried about her, Fisher.’
‘So, what do we do about her?’ Marko asked.
‘Quiz your pal about that,’ Adam said. ‘He’s all set to rummage through the fucking cellar for God knows what.’
Fisher grunted in frustration. ‘What’s down there might help us understand what we’re facing here.’
‘The cellar can wait.’ Belle scowled. ‘Adam and I are going to drive to a telephone.’
‘We’ve tried that once.’ Fisher’s voice rose. ‘Did it help? Look what happened to Josanne.’
‘It was thick fog then. Now it’s only raining.’
‘Tell them, Josanne.’ Fisher gestured with his hands. ‘Tell Adam and Belle it won’t let them go.’
‘What won’t?’ Belle was bemused.
‘The house of course.’
Adam chuckled. ‘Are you sure you’ve not been knocking back the vino already?’
‘I wish I had. It might kill the pain of trying to make you understand what’s damn well obvious.’
Sterling set the bowl of steaming soup in front of Josanne. ‘Don’t mind the squabbling children, Josanne. Start eating. You need it.’
‘Thanks.’
Fisher felt stung. ‘Sterling, I’m not squabbling. I’m just trying to—’
‘Tell us the house is haunted. We know, dear boy.’ Adam closed his eyes again as Belle rubbed his neck. ‘You keep playing the same old tune.’
Belle nodded. ‘Adam and I will go find a house or a garage. We’ll call the police and tell them about Kym.’
‘Don’t. It’s not safe.’
‘Dear God in Heaven.’ Fabian rolled his eyes. ‘Here we go again.’
Sterling took the coffee jug then began refilling everyone’s cup. ‘OK, we agree to differ on this, but—’
Fisher broke in. ‘If you’d only talked to this guy Blaxton. He would have—’
‘Fisher. Fisher. Do you mind not fucking well interrupting me?’
Fisher yielded the floor with a sigh.
Sterling continued, ‘Thank you. If you let me have my say this is what I suggest. Fabian stays here with Josanne. Belle and Adam find a telephone – Fisher, if you dare interrupt I’ll throw this coffee over you – I know I saw a payphone back at the ferry. Meanwhile, you, Marko and me will search the cellar. Does that satisfy everyone?’
Marko grinned. ‘Sterling, old buddy, you should have been a diplomat.’
Josanne sat still for the course of the argument. The words washed over her without touching her mind. If she’d been questioned later, she wouldn’t have been able to recall what was said. Cold held her in an ice-blue grip. Fabian’s thick fleece jacket didn’t seem to be helping much. At that moment Josanne’s attention wasn’t there in the kitchen but locked on to a memory loop that played itself over and over in her brain.
In the car … the lake all around. Thick fog. Songs on the radio. Told herself: ‘I’m going to have to make myself comfortable. I’m going to be stuck here all night.’ Even so, it’s difficult to relax in a car that’s up to the sills in water. Suddenly you’re Robinson Crusoe on a little man-made island of steel, a wheel at each corner. Every so often she’d sit up so she could look through the back window. The fog obscured the lake bank and the fiel
d that led back to the road. If that grey murk lifted no doubt she’d see the muddy ruts in the grass gouged by the car’s tyres as it sped down here. Marooned. Isn’t that a great start to what should be a mercy mission? This didn’t help find Kym one little bit. With it being late Josanne had turned off the radio for a moment. There was a chance she’d hear traffic passing on the road. The second the radio died silence flooded the car. That silence appeared to bring a wave of cold that made her breath ghost white. She shivered. A change had taken place in the air. It felt different against her skin. Almost heavier as if it gradually increased in pressure. Along with that subtle transformation the quality of the silence underwent a change, too. Her mind supplied graphics of the car slipping into a subterranean tunnel. Colder air. Altered sound. The dynamic of the space around her was altering, too. Maybe water’s begun to seep into the car’s passenger cabin? That’s making everything seem different.
Even the seat lost its upholstered softness. As Josanne turned round to sit up she put her hands palm down. No soft fabric now. Only a hard, cold surface. A light shone in her face. Ice formed in her heart. That was the sensation. Her centre was ice, it pumped freezing slush through her veins.
When did the transition take place? She couldn’t say. One minute she sat in the car: the next she sat on the stairs in The Tower. Someone shone a light, but her senses were too detached from her body to react. At least not at first. Only then she saw Jak. The dog shrank back as if afraid of her. Then Fisher was there with a flashlight in his hands.
‘Josanne …’ His voice seemed far away. A ghosting shell of sound with no substance. It didn’t pass through the air to her, but through some other substance. Six feet of grave soil …
‘Josanne … Josanne?’
‘Hmm?’ She realized Fabian spoke her name. She blinked. Back in the marooned car? In a room filled with water? On the staircase in the dark? In a coffin underground? For a moment she could have been in any of those places
… ‘Josanne.’
She blinked again. Suddenly it was the kitchen that laid claim to reality. The bowl in front of her was empty. She licked her lips and tasted chicken soup. She’d eaten without realizing it.
‘Josanne.’ Fabian smiled at her. ‘Look, I know you’re not feeling well.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, but didn’t mean it.
‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘No, I’m OK. Honestly.’
‘Belle and Adam have gone to find a telephone. They’re only driving as far as the ferry, so they shouldn’t be long.’
‘Oh … Where are the others?’
‘Fisher and company? Huh. They’ve gone on some bloody expedition to the cellar. Tell me, is everyone losing their mind round here?’
‘OK.’ Marko stood in the corridor with his flashlight. ‘I’m with you on searching the cellar. Does anyone have any idea where the cellar is?’
Sterling shrugged.
Fisher nodded along the corridor. ‘They’ll have been near the original kitchen where the domestic staff could have access to stores. Blaxton said that they were the original cellars to the medieval house.’ Fisher noticed the way the two caught each other’s eye. ‘Are you siding with Fabian?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He thinks I imagined meeting the guy out there on the runway.’
Sterling responded in his typical calm way, ‘Fisher. If you say you saw a guy called Blaxton then that’s good enough for me.’
Marko grinned. ‘Yeah, me, too. You haven’t got the imagination to conjure up a pretend friend.’
‘Thanks.’ He found himself smiling. ‘I’ll take that as proof of your everlasting trust in me.’
‘By the way,’ Sterling said, as they began to walk along the corridor, ‘what happened to Blaxton?’
‘He went to the bottom of the swamp.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Me? I’m not sure of anything anymore. This is it.’ He shouldered open the door.
This kitchen had been designed to feed residents on an industrial scale. The kitchen they’d left behind a few moments ago merely served as a staff lounge where they could cook up snacks or grab coffee on the hoof. This was a lofty barn of a room with tall windows that glistened with rain. Strips of lights brilliantly lit the place so they didn’t need the flashlights yet. Most of the appliances had gone. What was left must have been worthless junk that had been left behind by the vendor.
Marko whistled. ‘Hey, you could feed a whole battalion here. Look at the size of those walk-in freezers.’
‘Anything look like a cellar door to anyone?’
‘Nope.’
‘It’s not going to be far away. Try at the far end.’
They passed by vast sinks that would have been used to wash produce. There were gaps in the counters revealing expanses of tiled wall where hoses and cables protruded. Probably for the ranks of dishwashers, stoves, plate warmers, mechanical potato peelers – you name it. One old stove remained with enough gas burners for at least a dozen pans. At the end of the kitchen three black doors were set in the wall.
Marko pushed open one with his foot. ‘The larder from the look of all those shelves.’
Sterling pushed another one open. ‘Hell.’ He stepped back.
‘You’ve found the cellar?’
‘I think it found me. Just come and stand here. No, closer. Feel it.’
Fisher shuddered. ‘You’ve just found the express way to the North Pole.’
‘You think there’s some refrigeration down there?’ White vapour billowed from Marko’s mouth.
Fisher gave a grim smile. ‘Here’s a newsflash, gentlemen: Hell’s just frozen over.’
A crusted old light switch clung to the wall like some diseased mollusk. Half-expecting the thing to electrocute him, Fisher beat the switch down with the side of his hand. In the void below, four naked bulbs offered what light they could muster.
Fisher led the way. At the bottom of the stone steps were a line of upright vacuum cleaners that had been dumped here when they’d outlived their usefulness. Lining the walls were stone shelves. These contained bundles covered with powdery deposits where paint had flaked away from the ceiling.
Sterling pulled a face. ‘I don’t know how long this wiring’s going to hold out. Look at it, some of the cable’s bare metal. The rubber’s rotted off.’
‘Yeah,’ Fisher agreed. ‘Just don’t touch anything. It might be live.’
‘Don’t inhale if you can help it either,’ Marko masked his nostrils with a hand. ‘Shit … I think someone buried a pig down here.’
Fisher grimaced. The place stank of rot. ‘Come on, sooner we’re gone the better.’
‘What are we looking for exactly?’
‘A red plastic sack. Blaxton said he dumped a load of audio tapes down here fifteen years ago.’
‘Sure it’ll still be here?’
Marko coughed as the smell settled in his throat. ‘From the look of it I don’t think anyone’s bothered to take out the trash for the last couple of centuries.’
As they reached the cellar floor they clicked on their flashlights. Fisher ran the beams over the walls. He didn’t look too closely but he swore he saw a rubber flying mask lying on top of an air force uniform. Or the decomposing remains of one.
‘Give me a heads up if you see rats,’ Marko called, as he crossed the oozing floor. ‘I hate rats.’
‘Fisher? Red sack.’
‘You’ve found it?’
‘There on the shelf by the stairs. It’s been left in a hurry. It looks as if Blaxton just leaned over the stair rail and dropped it down on to a pile of old blankets.’
For a moment it appeared as a black mound on mould-covered blankets. However, when Fisher shone the flashlight on it, he saw a gleam of red as the light pierced the encrustation of filth.
‘OK. Everyone out. I’ll grab it.’
Marko and Sterling didn’t need any more telling. They quickly climbed the stone steps to the d
oorway. Fisher gripped the sack where it had been tied shut with wire. The contents shifted with a clicking sound. He thought: I’m probably the first person to touch the sack since Blaxton dumped it here before he left fifteen years ago. Hell, left? From what he was saying he ran like the Devil had got scent of him.
Within three minutes they’d made it back to the ballroom. They still rubbed their arms where the cellar’s chill clung to their skin like a shroud.
Fisher called to Sterling. ‘Have you still got that tape player? The little handheld one?’
‘Yeah, but it doesn’t kick out much sound.’
‘No problem. I’ll run it through my bass amp. Marko? Can you bring Fabian? If these tapes still work he should be one of the first to hear them.’
Marko nodded.
Fisher crossed the ballroom. Outside, the darkness was filled with swirling rain. He wished he’d been able to persuade Adam and Belle not to go hunting for a telephone. At least not until daylight. But now he should have persuasive evidence. He dumped the bag on the table, then he pulled out his pocket knife. The plastic had been coated in a crust of dirt that must have dripped from the ceiling. In places, it had built up peaks of some white deposit as if stalagmites had begun to form. It didn’t prove to be a hindrance though. Fisher’s sharp blade zipped through the plastic. He upended the bag. Cassettes tumbled out. He ran his fingers over them. All dry. Blaxton had done good work sealing the bag so thoroughly.
‘Got it.’ Sterling returned with a tape deck that was no bigger than a paperback book. He used it mainly to record Marko’s drum work so he could practise his own rhythm parts at home. Sterling gazed down at the table. His eyes went wide. ‘There really were tapes in the sack.’
‘Yup. Something I couldn’t have known if Blaxton hadn’t told me.’
‘I’m not doubting you saw someone who claimed he was called Blaxton.’ Fabian had arrived. ‘But whether he manifested himself in a puff of smoke? That’s another matter entirely.’
‘OK, Fabian. Take a seat.’ Fisher glanced at Sterling. ‘You’ve hooked that up to my bass amp before?’