Necroscope - Deadspeak Part 28

'Not at all,' the other shook his head and smiled strangely, knowingly. Har ry went out to the others.

'What is it?'

Darcy closed the door and turned the key. He looked at Harry and his Adam 's apple was working. 'It's all wrong!' he said. 'There's something ... not r ight with him. In fact nothing's right with him!'

Harry's soulful eyes studied his drawn, trembling face. 'Your talent?'

'Yes. That doesn't feel like Trevor. It looks like him, but it doesn't feel like him. Not to my guardian angel. My talent wouldn't let me stay in there.'

'Harry?' came Jordan's voice from beyond the door. 'What's the delay? Loo k, I have something to tell you -but only you. Can't we talk, you and I, face to face?'

Manolis was quick off the mark. He showed the Sister his police identific ation, again warned her to silence as Darcy had done, with a finger to his li ps, took out his Beretta and gave that to Harry. And: 'Leave the door ajar be hind you, and we'll stay right here,' he said.

'But,' said Darcy, his voice wobbly, 'will that stop him?' He indicated the gun in Harry's hand.

Harry nodded. 'He's not a vampire,' he said. He put the gun into an insid e pocket of his jacket, unlocked the door and went through it. Inside the roo m Jordan had sat down in an armchair. There was another chair facing him and he beckoned Harry to take it. Harry sat down . . . but carefully, warily, nev er taking his eyes off the man opposite. 'Well,' he finally said, 'and here I am. So what's the big mystery, Trevor?'

'All of a sudden,' said the other, still smiling his weird, knowing smile, 'you're not so concerned about me.' And Harry noticed how he formed his w ords slowly, carefully, making sure he got them right.

Right there and then the Necroscope guessed what Jordan's trouble was an d decided to put it to the test. 'Oh, I'm concerned about you, all right,' h e forced a smile onto his face. 'In fact you wouldn't believe just how conce rned I am! Trevor, do you remember what you people at E-Branch used to call Harry Jnr when you looked after him that time?'

The strange, almost insinuating expression slid from Jordan's face. His f eatures went slack and gaunt, his eyes blank, but just for a moment or two. T hen . . . animation returned and he said: 'Oh, of course. The Boss, that's wh at we called him!'

'That's right - ' Harry nodded, and reached for the gun in his pocket, '

- but you were much too slow in remembering. And you were the one who was a lways especially fond of him. It's not something you'd need time to think ab out - or enquire about? - if you were you!'

As his gun started to come into view, so Jordan moved. Previously the m an's movements had seemed slow to match his speech . . . but so are the mov ements of a chameleon before its tongue flickers into deadly life. And Jano s's grip was strong on Jordan's mind. He moved like lightning, his left han d grabbing Harry's throat and his right bearing down on his gun hand, rammi ng it back inside his jacket. The Necroscope's reflexes took over. As Jorda n straightened up from his chair, Harry kicked him hard between the legs .

. . useless, for the mind which controlled Jordan's body simply turned the pain aside. In return, Jordan released Harry's throat and back-handed him w ith a clenched fist hard as iron! Before his eyes could focus from that, Jo rdan had lifted him half out of his chair and tried to b.u.t.t him in the face . In the last moment Harry saw it coming and managed to turn his face aside , but even so the crus.h.i.+ng hammer force of the man's head against his templ e dazed and shook him. Before he could recover, Jordan let him fall back in to his chair and dragged his gun hand into view. Then - The door burst open and Manolis hurled himself into the room. Darcy wa s right behind him, defying his leery talent's every effort to turn him ba ck. Grunting his frustration, Jordan tried one last time, without effect, to wrench Harry's gun out of his hand before Manolis. .h.i.t him. And the comp act Greek policeman knew exactly how to hit. He shouldered Jordan back fro m Harry, drop-kicked him and knocked him down, then scrabbled his hands ou t from under him where he tried to push himself to his feet.

Then Harry was between them, pointing his gun directly at Jordan's foreh ead. 'Don't make me!' he shouted at the possessed man, his words sharp as gr avel chips. Jordan sat up and snarled at him, at all three of them.

'I was not the one to threaten!' he growled, his voice no longer that of the Jordan they had known. 'You threatened me!' 'That's right,' Harry answered, 'you haven't threatened me personally, no t yet, but you would sooner or later . . . Janos Ferenczy!' He made motions w ith his gun, indicating that the other should stand up.

Janos, in Jordan's body, did so, and stood glowering at the three who ringed him in. And: 'Well then, Harry Keogh,' he finally grunted, 'and so you know me now. Very well, all subterfuge aside, we meet at last. But I w anted to know you, and I wanted you to know something of my power. You see how easily I have occupied this mind? Telepathy? Hah! Trevor Jordan was t he veriest amateur!'

'Your powers don't impress me,' Harry lied. 'The stench from a dead pig is likewise strong!'

'You . . . you dare!' the other took a pace forward.

Harry gritted his teeth and carefully aimed the gun right between Jordan's eyes - - And smiling crookedly, the possessed man came to a grudging halt. Then ... he staggered.

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'What. . .?'

'I ... I have pushed this weakling's flabby body too far,' Janos Ferenczy grunted from Jordan's throat. 'Allow me to sit down.'

'Sit,' Harry told him. And as the other flopped into his chair, and sat t here reeling, the Necroscope once more seated himself opposite. 'Now out with it, Janos,' he said. 'Why did you want to see me? To kill me?'

'Kill you?' Janos laughed a baying laugh. 'If I were so desperate to have you dead, believe me you would be dead! But no, I want you alive!'

'Wait!' Manolis came closer. 'Harry, are you saying that this is Janos Fer enczy? Is this really the Vrykoulakas?'

Janos/Jordan scowled at him. 'Greek, you are a fool!'

Manolis moved closer still, but Darcy took his arm. 'It's his mind,' he said , 'his telepathy, controlling Trevor's body.'

'Kill him now!' Manolis said at once.

'That's just it,' Harry answered. 'I wouldn't be killing him but poor Jordan.

Janos laughed again. 'You are helpless,' he said. 'Why, I could walk ou t of here! You are like small children!' Then he stopped laughing and scowl ed at Harry. 'And so you are the all-powerful Necroscope, eh? The man who t alks to the dead, the famous vampire-killer. Well, I think you are nothing!'

'Do you?' said Harry. 'And is that why you're here, to tell me that? Fine , so you've told me. Now scurry off back to your Carpathian castle and get yo ur filthy leech's mind out of my friend's head!'

The eyes in Jordan's head glared until they seemed about to leap from thei r orbits, and his hands trembled where they gripped the arms of the chair. But finally: 'It ... will ... be ... my ... my great pleasure to meet you again, Harry Keogh,' he said, grinding his teeth. 'But man to man, face to face.'

Harry was practised in the ways of the Wamphyri. He knew how to hurl we ighty insults. 'Man to man?' he gave a snort of derision. 'You elevate your self to ridiculous heights, Janos. And face to face? Why, there are c.o.c.kroa ches in this world who stand taller than you!'

Manolis got down on one knee beside Harry's chair, reached for his gun.

'Give it to me,' he said, 'and tell me what you want to know. And believe me , I will make him tell you!'

'I go now - ' Janos said, ' - but I go knowing that you will come to me.'

He opened his mouth and laughed, and wriggled his tongue as frantically and obscenely as a madman. 'I know it as surely as I know that tonight - ah tonig ht. - sweet Sandra will writhe in my bed, lathered with the froth of our forn ication!'

He laughed, a great shout of a laugh, and fell limp in his chair. His eye s closed, his head leaned to one side and his jaw fell open. Foam dribbled fr om one corner of his mouth, and his left arm and hand vibrated a little where they hung down the side of the chair.

Harry, Darcy and Manolis glanced at each other, and at last Harry half- released the Beretta into Manolis's hands - at which Jordan's eyes sprang o pen! He laughed again and leaped alert, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the gun from between t hem. And: 'Ah, hah-hah!' he screamed. 'Children, mere children.'

And putting the gun to his right ear, he pulled the trigger.

Harry had drawn back, forcing his chair backwards away from the action, but Darcy and Manolis were sprayed with blood and brains as the left side of Jordan's head flew apart. Yelping their horror, they started upright and ba ck.

Framed in the open doorway, a trio of Sisters of Mercy held their hands to their mouths and gasped. They had seen it all. Or the end of it, anyway . 'Oh, my G-G-G.o.d!' Darcy staggered from the room, leaving Harry and Manoli s, mouths agape, staring at Jordan's b.l.o.o.d.y corpse . . .

Harry and Darcy left Manolis to hand over to the local police (the case wa s a 'suicide' pure and simple, with plenty of witnesses to prove it) and walke d back to their hotel.

It wasn't yet 10:00 a.m. but already it was baking hot; the heat seemed to bounce off the cobbles in the narrow streets of the Old Town; Darcy dumpe d his bloodied jacket in the back of a refuse truck, and cleaned up as best he could in a drinking fountain along the way.

At the hotel they showered and Harry saw to his bruises, and then for the b est part of an hour they sat and did nothing at all ...

A little before noon Manolis joined them. 'What now?' he wanted to kno w. 'Do we go ahead as planned?'

Harry had been thinking it over. 'Yes and no,' he answered. 'You two go ahead as planned: go to Halki, tomorrow, then Karpathos, and see what you can do. And you'll have the men from E-Branch to back you up from then on in. But I can't wait. I have to square it with that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. It was what he said at the end. I can't live with that. It has to be put right.'

'You'll go to Hungary?' Manolis looked washed out, exhausted.

'Yes,' Harry told him. 'See, I thought that after Sandra was taken it woul dn't matter: she'd simply be a vampire, beyond anyone's help. But I hadn't rec koned with how he might use her. Well, it could be that she herself is now pas t caring, but I'm not. So ... I have to go. Not even for her sake anymore but for mine. I may not any longer have what it takes to get him, but I can't let her go on like that.'

Darcy shook his head. 'Not a good idea, Harry,' he said. 'Look, Janos was goading you, challenging you to take part in a duel he doesn't think you can win. And you've fallen for it. You were right the first time: where Sandra i s concerned what's done is done. Now's the time to steady up and start thinki ng ahead, the time for preparation and planning. But it isn't the time to go off half-c.o.c.ked and get yourself killed! You know how difficult it's going to be just getting to Janos in the Carpathians; but you also know that if you s imply leave him alone, then sooner or later he'll come looking for you where you can meet him on your terms. He'll have to, if he ever again wants to feel safe in the world.'

'Harry,' said Manolis, 'I think maybe Darcy is right. I still don't know wh y that maniac killed himself and not you, but what you're planning now . . . it 's like putting your head right back in the noose!'

'Darcy probably is right,' Harry agreed, 'but I have to play it how I see it. As for Jordan killing himself: that was Janos, showing me how "powerful"

he is! Yes, and hurting me at the same time. But kill me? No, for it's like he said: he wants me alive. I'm the Necroscope; I have strange talents; there are secrets locked up in my head that Janos wants to get at. Oh, he can talk to some of the dead - poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds - in that monstrous, necromantic way of his, but he can't command their respect as I do. He'd like to, though, for he 's as vain as the rest of them, but he still doesn't feel that he's true Wamp hyri. So ... he probably won't be satisfied until he's made himself the most powerful vampire the world's ever seen. And to that end, if he can find some way to steal my skills from me -' He let it tail off ...

And immediately, in a lighter tone, continued: ' - Anyway, you two are going to have plenty on your own plates. So st op worrying about me and start worrying about yourselves. Manolis, how abo ut those spearguns? And I'd also like you to book me a seat on the next pl ane for Athens - say sometime tomorrow morning? - with a Budapest connecti on. And Darcy - '

' - Whoa!' said Darcy. 'You changed the subject a bit fast there, Harry. And let's face it, there's really no comparison between what we'll be doing h ere in the islands and what you'll be going up against in the Carpathians. Al so, Manolis and I, we have each other, and by tomorrow night there'll be a ga ng of us. But you'll be on your own all the way down the line.'

Harry looked at him with those totally honest, incredibly innocent eyes of his and said, 'On my own? Not really, Darcy. I have a great many friends in a great many places, and they've never once let me down.'

Darcy looked at him and thought: G.o.d, yes! It's just that I keep forgettin g who - what - you are.

Manolis didn't know Harry so well, however. 'Friends?' the Greek said, having missed the point of the exchange. 'In Hungary, Romania?'

Harry looked at him. 'There, too,' he said, and shrugged. 'Wherever.' He stood up. 'I'm going to my room now. I have to try and contact some people .

'Wherever?' Manolis repeated him, after he had gone.

Darcy nodded, and for all the drowsy Mediterranean heat he s.h.i.+vered. 'Harr y's friends are legion,' he explained. 'Right across the world, the graveyards are full of them.'

Harry tried again to contact Mobius, with as little success as the teem ing dead allies whom his Ma had recruited to that same task. He tried to sp eak with Faethor, too - to check on a certain piece of advice that the exti nct vampire had given him, which now seemed highly suspect - and was likewi se frustrated; it must be the scorching heat of the midday sun, s.h.i.+mmering in Romania just as it s.h.i.+mmered here, which deterred Faethor's Wamphyri spi rit. Disappointed, finally Harry reached out with his thoughts to touch the Rhodes asylum, where Trevor Jordan now lay in the morgue, peaceful in the wake of his travails and well beyond the torments of the merely physical wo rld. There, at last, he was successful.

Is that you, Harry? Jordan's dead voice was at first tinged with anxiety, then relief as he saw that he was correct. But of course it is, for who else c ould it be? And eagerly: Harry, I'm glad you've come. I want you to know that it wasn't me. I mean, that I could never have - ' - Of course you couldn't!' Harry cut him off, speaking out loud, as he was wont to do when time, circ.u.mstance and location permitted. 'I know that, Trevor. It's one of the reasons I wanted to speak to you: to put your mind at rest and let you know that we understand. It was Janos, using you to relay h is thoughts - and that one G.o.dawful action - through to us. But,' (he was as frank as ever), 'it's a d.a.m.ned shame he had to murder you to be doubly sure I 'd go after him!'

Harry, said Jordan, it's done now and 1 know it can't be reversed. Oh, I s uppose it will get to me later, when it sinks in how much I've lost. I suppose they - I mean we - all have to go through that. But right now I'm only interested in revenge. And let's face it, I haven't fared as badly as some. G.o.d know s I'd rather be dead than undead, in thrall to that monster!

'Like poor Ken Layard.'

Yes, like Ken. And Harry felt the dead man's shudder.

'That's something else I have to try to put right,' the Necroscope sighed. '

Ken belongs to Janos now, his locator. But Trevor, Sandra is his, too . . .'

For a moment there was only a blank, horrified silence. Then: Oh, G.o.d, Har ry . . . I'm so sorry!

Harry felt the other's commiserations, nodded, said nothing. And: G.o.d, it seems impossible! Jordan finally said, speaking to himself as mu ch as to Harry. We came out to Greece to find a few drugs - and look what we found. Death, destruction, and a one-man plague who can burst out any time he's ready. And powerful? It's like Yulian Bodescu was a pocket-torch compar ed to a laser beam. You know, I scanned him by mistake? I was like a tiny sp ider who fell in a bathful of water, and some b.a.s.t.a.r.d pulled the plug! There was no fighting him. Harry, his mind is a great black irresistible whirlpoo l. And little old me? . . . I dived right in there head-first!

'That's the other thing I want to talk to you about,' Harry told him. 'Th is control he had over you, even at a distance. I mean, how could such a thin g come about? You were a powerful telepath in your own right.'

Therein lies a tale, Jordan answered, bitterly. And: Harry, we're all of us like radio stations: our minds, I mean. Most of us operate on very persona l channels, our own. We only talk to ourselves. We think to ourselves. Most o f us. Telepaths, on the other hand, have this knack of tuning in to other peo ple's wavelengths. But Janos is a superior and far more sophisticated station . Only let someone pick up his wavelength and he jams their transmission, tra cks the signal home and literally takes over! The stronger their beam, the fa ster he homes in on them. Yes, and the harder they fall. It's as simple as th at.

'You mean he got to you because you're a telepath? Ordinary people would be safe, then?'

/ can't answer yes for a certainty, but I would think so. But one thing I am certain of: with a mind like that he has to be a powerful hypnotist, too. I n fact he'll have all the usual - the unusual? - mental powers of the Wamphyri in spades!

'So I've been told,' Harry nodded, gloomily. 'It makes a nonsense of some thing Faethor said to me.'

Faethor? You've been talking to that black-hearted b.a.s.t.a.r.d again? Harry, he was Janos's father!

'I know that,' said Harry. 'But if you don't speak to them you can't kno w them. And that's my best weapon: knowing them.'

Well, I suppose you know best what you're doing. But Harry, never let him into your mind. Be sure to keep the b.a.s.t.a.r.d out of your mind. Because once he's in he's in for good!

Which was the opposite of the advice Faethor had given him. 'I'll keep t hat in mind,' said Harry, but artlessly, without humour. And: 'Trevor, is th ere anything I can do for you? Any messages?'

I've left a few friends behind. Given time I'll think of a couple of thin gs to say. Not right now, though. Maybe you can get back to me. I hope so, an yway.

Trevor, you were a telepath in life. Well, it doesn't stop there. You won't be alone, ever. See if I'm not right. And there's one last thing.'

Yes?

'I... I want to make sure you're cremated. And then, if everything works out , I think I'd like to keep your ashes.'

Harry, said Jordan in a little while, did anyone ever tell you you're mo rbid? Then he actually laughed, however shakily. h.e.l.l, I don't care what hap pens to my ashes! Though I suppose I'd get to talk to you more often, right?

I mean, from your mantelpiece?

Harry had to grin to keep from crying. 'I suppose you would,' he said. .

By mid-afternoon things were starting to shape up. Harry still couldn'

t contact Mobius or Faethor, but Manolis and Darcy returned from an outing in the town with an armful of spearguns. They were the Italian 'Champion'

models Manolis had recommended, with very powerful single rubber propulsi on.

'I once saw a man accidentally shot in the thigh with one of these,' the Greek related. 'They had to open his leg up and cut the harpoon head right out of him! Our harpoons are being silvered right now. We pick them up tonig ht.'

'And my flight to Athens?' Harry's resolve was as strong as ever.

Manolis sighed. 'Same as last time. Tomorrow at 2:30. If there's no tro uble with your connection, you'll be in Budapest by, oh, around 6:45. But w e both wish you'd change your mind.'

'That's right,' Darcy agreed. 'Tomorrow night our people from E-Branch will be out here. And they're trying to contact Zek Foener and Jazz Simmons in Zakinthos to see if they'd like to be in on it. We'll have a h.e.l.l of a good team, Harry. There's absolutely no reason why you should go off to Hun gary on your own. Someone could go with you at least part of the way. A goo d telepath or prognosticator, say.'

'Zek Foener?' Harry had turned to look sharply, frowningly at Darcy on hearing her name spoken. 'And Michael Simmons? Oh, they'll want to be in on it, all right!' So far there'd been no chance to report what Trevor Jordan had told him about the vampire's superior ESP; now he did so, and finished up: 'Don't you realize who and what Zek Foener is? Only one of the most prof icient telepaths in the world. Just let her mind so much as sc.r.a.pe up agains t Janos's and he'd have her! And as for Jazz ... he was a h.e.l.l of a man to h ave around on Starside, but this isn't Starside. The fact is I daren't take any of our talented people up against Janos. He'd just take them out one by one and use them for his own. I mean, this is the very essence of why I have to handle my side of it alone. Too many good people have lived through too much already just to go risking their necks again now.'

'You're right, of course,' Darcy nodded. 'But you're our best chance, Ha rry, our best shot. Which makes it doubly frustrating to simply say nothing and let you go risking your neck! I mean, without you . . . why, we'd be lef t stumbling around in the dark!' Which seemed to say a lot for what he thoug ht of Harry's chances. But: 'I won't argue with you,' Harry said, quietly. 'I'm on my own.' And his vo ice held a note of finality, and of a determination which wouldn't be swayed .