Mean Spirit Part 49

She went tight into the opposite corner from where he was sitting, and laid down the bag she'd had over her head. At least that would absorb most of it.

When she was through, she stood up and shuddered with relief, and then she went and sat down next to Bobby Maiden and took his fingers out of his ears and gently kissed what she hoped was the side of his mouth.

'Thank you. That was the nicest thing anybody ...'

She broke out laughing then, for a blessedly insane moment, and they held each other, sitting on his jacket on the stone floor in the cold and the darkness and the ammonia fumes.

After a while, her hands warm in his sweater, she said, 'You know what Cindy said to me earlier? He said this was all about big egos. Egos wanting to survive death. He said you could see it being of like cosmic proportions or really small and sordid. He said it was about Kurt and Seward, but also Crole and Abblow.'

Bobby told her what Harry Oakley had alleged about Crole and Abblow. How they liked to watch the lights go out.

'This John Hodge ...' she s.h.i.+vered in his arms. 'They messed with him down here? Maybe where we're sitting. What did they do to him?'

'I don't know. But maybe Campbell and Seward do. If we a.s.sume that Seward's fascination with spiritualism is the main reason he's bankrolling Kurt ... because he thinks Kurt's the man who can prove something to him ...'

'... then it's in Kurt's interest to show he can come up with the goods,' Grayle said.

She told him what Kurt had said earlier about Abblow and Dunglas-Home; how some people had claimed to have seen him levitate, others had denied it. About the question she'd put to Kurt.

'I think he wanted me to know. Though he couldn't admit it, he wanted me to know how clever he'd been. I would bet money that he was with Callard until just days before the Cheltenham party and that he hypnotized her.'

'What?'

'I guess it was down to auto-suggestion. He wouldn't even need to be there. You think about this. She's psychic I'm not gonna deny she's psychic, she's proved it in all kinds of ways.'

'Yes.'

'And ... and the drawing, right? Sure, I know you could've gotten that from the picture in the book, but I think you got it from her. She has it. Whatever it is, she still has it. She talks about being washed up and all, but she still gets these spontaneous ...'

'She was Em,' Bobby said.

'You don't have to talk about that. Bottom line is Marcus was right about Callard. She is an extraordinary person. But she's also human and stupid enough to get involved with a slimeball like Kurt. She always said that the men who came on to her, half of them wanted to get into her pants, the other half wanted into her career. Maybe Kurt looked attractive because he already had a career, was making even more money than she was, in kind of a similar area. And maybe he was therapy.'

'Hypnosis.'

'Like Campbell said to me just now, he can relax you. Hypnosis can take away stress and make you feel good about yourself, all that stuff. So maybe it started with her submitting freely to it, all strung up with the stresses of communication with the dead. And then he gets into her mind and he can plant all kinds of stuff in there. Plus, all that about how you can't hypnotize someone against their will is just smoke, you ask any professional hypnotist if you're a suitable subject, they can get you ... any time they want. So, like, Kurt has this financially fruitful relations.h.i.+p going with Gary Seward does Seward have an awful lot of money?'

'More than anyone's ever likely to know about. They all have, these guys. The taxman just gets the occasional gratuity ...'

'So Kurt has this thing going with the most famous and glamorous medium in the Western world. And he's into her mind. And he knows what could really blow Seward away. What if ... what if Callard could be shown to have contact with the newly murdered Clarence Judge? Think about it, Bobby. Callard's still getting the spontaneous spirit contacts, everything's normal... until she does a formal sitting. And then, instantly, there he is ... there's Clarence. Every time, on cue. So suppose Kurt put her under one time maybe this is just after they got laid when she's all compliant and softened up ... and he shows her a picture of Clarence Judge.'

'There isn't a picture of Clarence Judge with that scar.'

'Just because there isn't one in the book doesn't mean there isn't one. So he shows her a picture or whatever and he's like, You will see this face every time ... Jesus ... every time you say the words, "The lines are open."'

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.'

'It's her line, Bobby! Hers and only hers. It's widely known. You go through Marcus's files, you'll see that d.a.m.n line used as a headline on at least two profiles of Callard.'

'You're saying there's no ghost. No Clarence outside of Seffi's mind?'

'I think that's what I'm saying.'

'So what about the other stuff. The smell? You even said you smelled it, at-'

'Yeah, yeah, the bad d.i.c.k smell. Well, she's a powerful psychic. She can blow out windows, she can fake Chaucer. To me, that's all entirely rational, and to a lot of scientists also. And, by the same rules, the smell's coming out of her. She's got this obnoxious Clarence so deep in her subconscious she's producing an a.s.sociated stink. Maybe Clarence never smelled like that in his life, maybe he washed his d.i.c.k scrupulously every night, I wouldn't know about that and neither would Callard. You have to excuse me here, Bobby. I'm thinking this out as I go along.'

'So this "lines are open" post-hypnotic suggestion thing is angled on the seance which Kurt set up for Seward in Cheltenham, right? You think Kurt was there all the time?'

'Probably in the back room, out of sight. Callard mustn't know it's him ... what's that gonna do to their blossoming relations.h.i.+p? Yeah, the seance ... it goes better than he could have hoped ... bad-d.i.c.k smell, drop in temperature, exploding vase ... and Callard runs out, leaving Seward knocked out and l.u.s.ting for more and thinking how right he was to invest in Kurt Campbell.'

'And maybe,' Bobby said, 'under normal circ.u.mstances, Kurt would have erased the instruction from Seffi's mind. But it messed her up so much and she ran so hard ...'

'Whatever, he didn't get to erase it, did he? So whenever she comes out with the trademark phrase, there's old Clarence, in all his filthy glory. No wonder she went half-crazy. Hypnosis gone wrong can screw up ordinary people, hypnosis of a sensitive with psycho-kinetic abilities ... that's potentially devastating. Actually devastating. I wonder if he told her. I wonder if he told her on the phone ... told her some of it ... and that's why she's here.'

'Because he's promised to get rid of it.'

'In return for one special appearance, to put a cool spin on a mock-Victorian seance? Does that sound enough to you, Bobby? Does that sound worth all this ... Bobby ...' Grayle sat up. 'You moaned. You're hurt. Jesus, honey, they hurt you. You can't get up, can you? That's why-'

'They just kicked me around a bit. I thought they'd stabbed me at first, but they just knew where to kick. Me dad wouldn't even have felt it.'

'You're lying. You can't get up ...'

Dear G.o.d, for a few minutes it had felt real good, putting it all together, talking it all out. You could forget ... She moved a hand lightly over Bobby's face, feeling the b.u.mps of dried blood.

'Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,' she sobbed. 'They're like some private secret police force.'

'That's what they are,' he said. 'They are a private police force run by an ex-senior policeman who knows exactly how far he can go.'

'This is Britain!'

She felt him smile.

'Doesn't even have to be very secret any more. Several security companies are operating close to the edge. Riggs is quite bitter. He liked being a policeman.'

'He hires out a Forcefield team to Seward?'

'No, to Campbell. It's probably a hand-picked unit consisting of those particular employees he knows are open to a sub-contract, under the table that's from Seward. Riggs also gets a rake-off. Or favours in kind, I don't know.'

'So, like the Forcefield guy Seward brought over to Mysleton ...'

'Seward?'

'It was Seward with the dead guy. He came himself, didn't I say? I forgot what I told you and what I told Cindy. Bobby, why would he do that? Why would he come himself, with all that money?'

'Because he loves it,' Bobby said. 'He needs that old thrill.'

'Jesus. What an unbelievable monster.'

'Or maybe just a sad old b.u.g.g.e.r,' Bobby said wearily. 'On reflection, though, I do think you carved up the wrong man.'

'Did you see him? Did you see Seward?'

'No. They just kicked me about a bit, tossed me in the back of a van, bag over the head, like you. I'd guess this came from Riggs, rather than Seward. He saw me ... or somebody else saw me. Some of them will be disenchanted ex-coppers.'

'Bobby, do you wanna try and stand up?'

'I think I'll just lie here for a while,' Bobby said. 'If that's OK.'

Incredibly, Grayle slept.

Incredibly, she had a warm, fuzzy dream in which they were at home in the cottage in St Mary's, with a big log fire, the flames reflected by the crystals and the paste gems in the poodle collar around the neck of Anubis, the tame Egyptian G.o.d of the dead.

And this metamorphosed into a lucid kind of dream a dream of what she knew was a near-death experience. Not the awful kind which Bobby had, but the traditional light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel kind. The one where you didn't want to go back.

It was wonderful, and when she awoke she awoke into light.

'Both of you,' the Forcefield voice said. 'Get away from each other. Stand up.'

L.

THE RENOVATION OF OVERCROSS CASTLE WAS LIKE A HALF-FINISHED portrait, Cindy thought, the central features blocked in and coloured, the rest little more than a scribble. On the first-floor landing, the paint faded off with the lighting, into greyness, shadows and dust-cloth ghosts.

Vera indicated to Cindy the alcove concealing Room Three, then pointed up at her stiff Victorian waitress's cap and down towards the kitchens to signify she would be needed soon to serve dinner to the visiting n.o.bs. From below, Cindy could hear the sounds of polite laughter, clinking gla.s.ses.

When Vera was gone, he moved quietly into the alcove quietly because the door was ajar and there were voices from within.

A problem. He needed to see Persephone Callard alone.

But, in the end, he didn't.

Standing in the shadow of the alcove, becoming still as a monolith, his breathing as light as a bird's, he heard, '... even have to stay the night. I'll have a car waiting. We'll get you out of here before midnight, I swear.'

Kurt Campbell. In a state.

'... can't believe it,' Miss Callard saying. 'Can't believe you or anybody could be so utterly, insanely ...'

'Look ... yes ... all right ... call me nai-'

'Naive? It's not the word, is it, Kurt?'

'Greedy. Power-hungry. Hey, call me what you f.u.c.king like, I'm at the stage I don't really care. All I'm saying ... if you finish this you'll never hear from me again, you'll never hear from Seward and you'll never ... be troubled by ...'

'Him?'

'You can unload it. Now you know what it's about, you can unload it just like ...'

'Oh, it's so easy, Kurt, isn't it?'

'I'll help you.'

'Think I've rather had enough of your help. I just ... the utter f.u.c.king duplicity ...'

Kurt collecting himself into his voice, the mesmerist's velvet purr.

'Seffi, you can't possibly imagine how quickly this happens. You meet on live, late-night telly, you're both high on it, he says why don't we go on to a club ... and then another club and you're with all these cool, dangerous people, and you're p.i.s.sed and you're telling him your life story and your ambitions, and you think ...'

'What a great guy. Yah, I've been there, Kurt. I was there when I was seventeen.'

'Yeah, well, when I was seventeen I was a sad kid at tech college doing a correspondence course on hypnotism at night and working b.l.o.o.d.y hard at it, so call it delayed adolescence, but ... he was just taking me over!'

'You're a b.l.o.o.d.y hypnotist and he's taking you over?'

'Things just happening, Seffi, like by magic. Obstacles getting moved, difficult people no longer difficult. Contracts, money, meetings, parties and that's how you get drawn in, it's like drugs. And then one day you realize some of the things he's been doing for you are monumentally illegal people getting bought, threatened, beaten up and ...'

'And what?'

'And worse.'

An indrawing of breath by Miss Callard.

'And it's when you realize innocent people are getting ... damaged to boost your career and get you into his pocket or to satisfy his warped sense of natural justice. Look, there's a story in his book he's been very clever, he's changed the names and the circ.u.mstances so it can't be traced back, but it's essentially true and it's about a man he's called Billy Spindler, a gra.s.s, who they fitted up for rape by actually having a woman raped. By Clarence Judge himself, I suspect. And he's done worse than that. People ... OK, people've died, innocent people, but that's never how he sees it. If somebody gets hurt they usually deserve it because they're not as innocent as they look, or they're stupid ... or they're just there to serve a higher purpose, which is Gary's purpose. He's a psychopath, Seffi, remorse is an abstract concept to Gary. You've just got to help get him off my back before another innocent ...'

Cindy thought, Billy Spindler? The name was set in ice, what it represented.

'Kurt, if we do it, as planned, in a large public room, in front of the Mayor of b.l.o.o.d.y Malvern and Lord Ledbury and whoever, I'll go with that. Squalid, back-room stuff, you can forget.'

'You don't know this guy, Seffi.'

'I know you, and I know you're full of s.h.i.+t.'

Billy Spindler, Cindy thought. The expendability of innocent but stupid people.

'He's lost it. It's gone well beyond obsession. We have all kinds of rules now, set up because of signs and omens. Like it has to be tonight because this is the day when Crole and Abblow did what they did. And it has to be in exactly the same place. And there have to be the right number of people and there has to be ... please, Seffi. You have to trust me.'

Behind Cindy there was a sudden fusilade of clipped, impatient footsteps. He took a breath, prepared to escape into the spectral netherland of dust sheets and abandoned paint cans.

Too late. He emerged from the alcove facing the woman identified to him as Francine Burnell-Brown, Kurt Campbell's PA and graceful toehold in society. Looking furious; she'd been left on her own to entertain minor aristocracy, tedious dignitaries and the local press, while the famous Kurt bargained and wheedled and lied through his white, white smile.

'Who the h.e.l.l ...?'

'Sssh.' Cindy brought a finger to his lips, a.s.sumed Imelda's tone. 'It's a delicate moment. Give them a few minutes.'

'What's going on?'

'Two minutes, my dear.' Cindy took Francine by the shoulders and pushed her firmly into the pa.s.sage and then walked calmly down the stairs, through the entrance hall and out into the night.

What Maiden obviously hadn't shared with Grayle was the implication of the Forcefield men operating quite openly, their faces now on show under the old fluorescent strip light in the pa.s.sageway.