The Man With The Golden Torc Part 13

"Basic illusion spell," Molly said briskly. "Lets people see what they expect to see."

"Uncle John," I said with some emphasis. "And you knew the guard's name. Are you a regular visitor here, by any chance?"

"Spot on, Sherlock. I found out who Oddly John really was by accident, and I've been keeping it to myself ever since. I was hoping I could use him to dig up some useful dirt on your family. Some secret piece of insider knowledge I could use as a weapon."

"And?"

She looked at me briefly, her expression unreadable. "Wait till you meet him. You'll understand then."

Wide green lawns stretched away on either side of the path, cropped and cultivated to within an inch of their lives. Patients in dressing gowns, with wild hair and empty eyes, wandered listlessly back and forth, taking the air. A handful of bored-looking guards in hospital whites were enjoying a cigarette break by the ornamental fountain. Some of the patients muttered to themselves. Some just made noises. None of them looked like an ax murderer. And none of them even glanced at Molly and me, caught up in their own private worlds.

As Molly and I drew closer to the big house, I realised that all the windows were barred, with heavy metal shutters ready to be swung into place. Swivelling exterior cameras watched us approach. The main door looked very solid and very shut. Molly leaned over the electronic combination lock set into the post by the door and pecked out four numbers.

"You'd think they'd change the number once in a while," she said fussily. "Or at least come up with a decent combination. I mean, it's been 4321 for as long as I've been coming here. Just so the staff won't have any trouble remembering it in an emergency. Anybody could guess it! Or at least, anyone with the normal number of marbles. I'd write a stern letter to the hospital governors, but you never know. I might need to break in here some day. Or break out."

The door swung open, revealing a pleasant open lobby. Nice carpeting, comfortable furnis.h.i.+ngs, plaques and commendations on the walls. The only off note was that the receptionist sat in her own little cubicle behind heavy reinforced gla.s.s. She was a middle-aged, matronly figure in the ubiquitous hospital whites, with an easy, welcoming smile. Molly smiled and nodded familiarly back, and the receptionist pushed a guestbook through a narrow slit in the gla.s.s for us to sign. After only a moment's pause, I wrote Mr. & Mrs. Jones.

"Oh, that's nice," the receptionist said cheerfully. "Makes a change from all the Smiths we get coming here. Most people don't care to use their real names, when they come visiting relations. Just in case someone finds out there's a cannibal in the family. Though of course we're always very careful about things like that. Good to see you back again, Molly. Most people don't like to come to a place like this. We get all the bad ones here: the child killers, the serial rapists, the animal mutilators...All the patients no one else wants, or can't cope with. We had the Dorset Ripper in here just the other week. No trouble at all; sweet as you like."

"We're here to see my uncle John," said Molly, cutting off a monologue that threatened to run and run. "John Stapleton?"

"Of course you are, dear. Oddly John, we call him. He's never a problem, bless him. Don't know what he did to get sent to a place like this, before my time, but it must have been pretty bad, because there's never any talk of transferring him to a less secure establishment, for all his good behaviour. Remember: always watch your back here, dears. Many of the patients in this place are the last faces a lot of people ever saw. Now, you make yourselves comfortable, and I'll call for an attendant to escort you up to the top floor."

Molly stretched out in a comfortable chair, but I didn't feel like sitting. This was not a comfortable place, for all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. I looked through an open door into an adjoining parlour, where patients were just sitting around in dressing gowns. It wasn't what I'd expected. No thras.h.i.+ng figures in straitjackets, no muscular guards hovering, ready to beat the c.r.a.p out of anyone who misbehaved. Instead, just a collection of very ordinary-looking people, sitting in chairs, flicking through papers and magazines, or watching morning television shows. The only attendant nurse was sitting at the back, doing the Times crossword puzzle. Molly moved in beside me, and I jumped a little despite myself.

"It's all done with kindness, these days," she said quietly. "The chemical cosh. They're all doped to the eyeb.a.l.l.s, so they won't cause any trouble or talk back. It's a lot cheaper than restraints. Though you'll notice there are surveillance cameras everywhere, just in case. The real hard cases are kept out of sight, so as not to upset the visitors."

"That's right," said our escort, appearing suddenly beside us. Another muscular man in hospital whites, this time with a shaved head and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He kept one hand on his belt, right next to the truncheon. He didn't offer to shake hands. "Hi; I'm Tommy. Ask me about anything. I've been here, like, forever. It's good money, with lots of vacation time, and the work's not exactly demanding most of the time. Hardly any excitement, these days. The wonders of modern science; better living through chemistry." He looked though the door into the parlour and sn.i.g.g.e.red openly. "Look at them. You could set fire to their slippers, and they wouldn't notice. Like your missus said, we keep the real animals downstairs, in the Bear Pit." He sn.i.g.g.e.red again, looking sideways at Molly. "We had to put your uncle John down there a few times, when he first came here. He didn't give us any more trouble after that."

"How is he?" said Molly. "Is my uncle having one of his good days?"

Tommy shrugged easily. "Hard to tell, with him. Long as he behaves himself, that's all I care about." He sn.i.g.g.e.red again, this time looking at me. "Oddly John-that's what we call him. He's really not all there, poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d. First visit, is it? Don't expect too much from the old man. We keep him well tranked, so he won't go wandering. A lot of them get restless legs..."

"It's nice to know you're taking such good care of my uncle," said Molly. "I must be sure to give you a little something, before I leave."

Tommy smiled and nodded, the fool.

He and Molly talked some more, but I stopped listening. I used the Sight the torc gave me to see the lobby as it really was, hidden from merely mortal gaze. There were demons everywhere, scuttling across the ceiling and clinging to the walls and riding on the backs of the patients. Demons don't cause madness, but they delight in the suffering it causes. Some of the demons had grown fat and distended, like parasites gorged on too much blood. A squat black insect thing squatted at the attendant nurse's feet, like a faithful pet waiting for a treat. Some of the demons realised I could See them. They stirred uneasily, sinking barbed claws and hooks into the patients' backs and shoulders, making it clear they wouldn't give up their victims without a fight. I wanted to kill every demon in the room, rip them off their victims, feel their skulls and carapaces break and shatter under my golden fists, but I couldn't risk making a scene. I needed to see Oddly John. I needed to know what he knew.

I turned my back on the parlour and shut down my Sight. There's a reason why I don't use it very often. If we could all See the world as it truly is, all the time, we couldn't bear to live in it. Not even Droods. Ignorance can be bliss.

I went back to stand with Molly, who immediately sensed my impatience. She stopped pressing the guard for information and said she'd like to see her uncle now. Tommy shrugged and led us over to the elevators. And all the time I was thinking, Three days, four tops. Part of me wanted to sulk and stamp my feet and shout, Not fair! But when had my life ever been fair? I couldn't afford to give in to hysterics. Had to stay calm and focused. Perhaps, at the end, all that would be left to me was to go down fighting and take as many of my enemies with me as I could.

If so, I couldn't wait to get started.

Tommy took us up to the top floor. The elevator had its own security override lock. I peered un.o.btrusively over Tommy's shoulder as he punched in the combination. Sure enough, it was 4321. A bunch of determined Boy Scouts could burgle this place. Probably get a badge, these days.

"Why Oddly John?" I said abruptly. "What is it that's so...odd, about him?"

Tommy sn.i.g.g.e.red. I was getting really tired of that sound. "Because he talks to people that aren't there and often won't talk to people that are. He sees things no one else can and talks all kinds of rubbish about it, if you'll let him. Lives in a world all his own, that one. Used to have really bad nightmares, until we increased his medication. To be fair, though, he's never violent; eats up all his food and never makes a fuss about taking his pills. That's the best kind of patient, in a place like this."

He led us all the way down to the end of the corridor. Its walls had been painted in pale pastel colours, so as not to overexcite the patients. Motion-sensitive cameras followed us all the way. The door to Oddly John's room stood halfway open. Tommy stood back and gestured for Molly and me to go in.

"Any problems, there's a big red panic b.u.t.ton right by the door. Hit that, and I'll come running. Don't be afraid to use it. We had a nurse here not long ago who let a guy get too close to her, and he bit half her face off before we could pull him away. We kicked the c.r.a.p out of him afterwards, but it didn't do her much good. Never came back. Don't blame her. Heard she got some really decent compensation money, though. Remember: no matter how nice and sweet they are to you, you can't trust any of them. They're all sick, vicious b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, or they wouldn't be here. No offence, Molly. You have a nice visit with your uncle John."

He ambled away, and Molly and I looked at each other. "Cheerful fellow," she said.

"I thought so."

"I really must remember to give him an appallingly fierce case of hemorrhoids before I leave."

"I would. Shall we go in?"

We went in. The room seemed pleasant enough. More calming colours on the walls, a comfortable-looking bed, and some basic furnis.h.i.+ngs, all clearly bolted to the floor. Some books on a shelf, flowers in vases, and a television in one corner, turned off. The patient was sitting quietly in a chair by the window, looking out through the bars. A frail old man, in a faded dressing gown. He didn't look around as we came in or react at all as we approached him. I checked him out briefly with the Sight. He didn't have a demon anywhere on him, but he did have a golden collar around his throat. He was a Drood, all right. I moved around to get a good look at his face, and then gasped and gaped openly.

"What?" said Molly. "What is it? Do you recognise him?"

"h.e.l.l, yes," I said. "His name isn't John. This is William Dominic Drood. And he's not a rogue; he's listed as missing. The family's been looking for him for years. He used to be head librarian, back at the Hall. One of our very best research scholars. He just...disappeared one day, and was never seen again. And believe me, we all looked really hard for him. He knew all kinds of things about the family and the Hall, secrets we couldn't afford anyone outside the family to know. But we never found him. His disappearance is one of the great unsolved mysteries of my family. And all these years, he's been...here?"

I stopped and looked abruptly at the surveillance camera in the far corner of the room.

"It's all right," Molly said quickly. "I hit it with my illusion spell the moment we walked in here. They'll see just what they expect to see, nothing more. But it won't last long. So talk to the man. Call him by his right name. I've tried everything I could think of and never got more than a dozen words out of him. See if you can do any better. But make it quick. Time is not on our side."

"I know," I said. "Trust me, I know."

I crouched down beside Oddly John's chair. It was easier to think of him that way, mostly because of the really unsettling look in his eyes. Whatever he was seeing out of his window, I was pretty sure I wouldn't see it if I looked out. Or would want to.

"William?" I said. "William Dominic Drood. Can you hear me?"

He didn't even look around. The sad, lost look on his face didn't change for a moment.

"Try showing him your torc," Molly said suddenly. "That might jar something loose."

I opened the top b.u.t.tons of my s.h.i.+rt with my right hand only, revealing the golden collar around my throat. I took hold of Oddly John's chin with my hand and turned his face gently but firmly around to look at me. "Listen to me, William. I'm Edwin Drood, sent to find you. See my torc. Do you remember me? I used to be in and out of the library all the time, when I was just a kid."

He looked at the torc, and just like that, he woke up. It was eerie, even shocking, to see a whole new personality flow into his face, like water pouring into a gla.s.s. He looked sharp and intelligent, and not in the least mad or drugged. He jumped up out his chair and backed away from me, both hands held out as though to ward me off.

"Is this it?" he said. "Have you come to kill me at last, for the family?"

"No, no!" I said quickly. "I mean you no harm. I'm not here for the family. I've been declared rogue, and I don't know why. I was hoping you might have some answers, or at least some advice."

He calmed down almost immediately and came back to lower himself into his chair. "So," he said finally. "Eddie Drood. Of course I remember you. Always plaguing me with questions, querying everything, borrowing books and never bringing them back. Best student I ever had. And now you're a rogue in the company of the infamous Molly Metcalf. No offence, my dear."

"None taken," said Molly. "Do you remember me coming here before?"

"I'm afraid not. I don't...come out much, anymore. Unless I absolutely have to. There was some talk of transferring me out of here. I soon put a stop to that..."

"But why?" I said. "What are you doing here, in a place like this? What happened to you?"

He looked at me sadly. "I can See the ghosts of everyone you ever killed, Eddie. So many of them...And there's something inside you, something other...I See so clearly these days, whether I want to or not." He looked across at Molly, crouching down now on the other side of his chair. "And you've made so many unfortunate deals to get the power you wanted. To avenge your poor parents. I can See the chains hanging around you, weighing you down. So much weight to carry, for one so young..." He looked out his window again so he wouldn't have to look at Molly or me anymore.

"What do you See, out there?" I said.

"All the views from all the other dimensions that intersect with this one. I See a forest of flowers, singing in awful harmonies. I See a great stone honeycomb, a thousand feet high, with people crawling in and out of the stone cells and scuttling up the walls like insects. I See towers of pure light, and waterfalls of blood, and a cemetery where they rise from their graves to dance in the moonlight."

I looked across at Molly. "You think he really Sees these things?"

"Who knows?" said Molly. "He's your family."

Oddly John looked sharply at me. "So; you're rogue now. What did you do, Eddie?"

"I don't know! I was hoping you might-"

"You didn't come here for help," said Oddly John. "You came here looking for safety and security, just like me. I faked madness to get into this place. Faked the symptoms, faked all the paperwork. I was very convincing. I'm safe here. I'm not locked in; the family's locked out. They'll never find me here. They want me dead, you know. Or at least, some of them do. Because of what I know. What I found out..."

"I'm going to bring the family down," I said. "Break their hold on the world. Will you help?"

"No!" said Oddly John, suddenly banging his frail fists on the arms of his chair. "That's not enough! The family must be wiped out, slaughtered, down to the very last of us. Including you and me. We have to die. The Drood family is vile, evil, utterly corrupt. Because of what we did, and what we all are...There can be no forgiveness for such a sin. Only death can make up for such a crime." He grabbed my hand in a painfully tight grip. "Are they still looking for me? After all this time?"

"Yes. Of course. You're very important to the family."

"They're looking for me because of what I know." He let go of my hand and stared out the window again. "They'll never stop looking for me."

"What is it?" said Molly. "What do you know?"

"Their agents could be anywhere," Oddly John said craftily. "Visitors, patients, guards. But they'll never find William Drood, because he's not here. Only Oddly John is here. I hide inside him, so deep no one can see me...But you're here. If you found me, so can they!"

He grew really agitated then, whipping his bony head back and forth. It took Molly and me some time to calm him down again, hus.h.i.+ng and comforting him like a small child after a nightmare. "Why does the family want to find you so badly?" I said. "What is it that you know?"

"I don't know," Oddly John said miserably. "I can't remember. I made myself forget, you see. I had to. It was the only way to stay sane...I found out something; I know that. I read a book I shouldn't have, a very old book, and it told me something terrible about the family. About what we really are."

"I know," I said. "It was a shock to me, too, to learn that we're the secret masters of the world."

"Not that," Oddly John said scornfully. "Who cares about that? I could live with that...No, this was much worse...Sometimes, I dream I'm back in the Hall. I walk into the Sanct.i.ty, and stand before the Heart...and then I wake up screaming. There's something I don't remember, something I mustn't remember, because it's too awful, too terrible to bear. The secret at the heart of the Droods...I left the Hall. I ran and I ran and I ran, and finally I came here. I'm safe here. Safe from everything and everyone; even myself. I don't know what's happening out in the world anymore, and I don't care. Knowing things doesn't make you happy."

"No one followed me," I said quickly. "Noone knows we're here. You're still safe."

"Bless you, Eddie," he said. "I wish there was something I could do for you. But I can't help you. I can't help any of us. We're all d.a.m.ned, you see. All d.a.m.ned, because of what we did, and what we are..."

And just like that, he went back inside himself again. William Dominic Drood disappeared, and there was only Oddly John. The personality drained out of his face, leaving just the empty sh.e.l.l behind, sitting quietly in his chair, looking out through the bars on his window at the things only he could see. Hiding from my family, and from whatever it was he was so desperate not to remember. What could he have discovered, what truth could he have stumbled over, that was so much worse than what I already knew? There was no point in asking Oddly John or William Drood.

If he hadn't been crazy when he came in here, he sure as h.e.l.l was now.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Chasing Eddie B ack at the top of the gra.s.sy hill I turned slowly, looking out over the small town of Flitwick. Picturesque houses, narrow streets, farms and farmlands off in the distance. All so very ordinary, so everyday, so unknowing of all the terrible things that shared the world with them. Once it was my job to protect people like them from all the bad things that hid and lurked in the shadows; but the more I investigated, the deeper I dug, the more I discovered just how deep and dark the shadows really were. And now it seemed my family were looking back at me, out of the shadows. What could William have found out? What could be so terrible he had to wipe it from his mind? If I found out, would I end up having to do the same?

I s.h.i.+vered, standing on the top of a hill in the middle of nowhere, looking out over a world I no longer recognised.

My arm hurt. Even when I was careful not to move it, the d.a.m.ned thing ached like a bad tooth. There was something inside me, eating me alive. Three days, four at the most. And always, this constant pressure of needing to be doing something, anything, so as not to waste a moment of the precious time I had left to me. And yet for all my digging, all my questions, I still had nothing certain to lash out at. I knew the names of my enemies, but not their reasons. I had to think, to plan; and still the clock was ticking, ticking...I looked at Molly, standing silently beside me.

"Well," I said. "Thank you for bringing me here, Molly. That was...seriously depressing. Are there any more bright and helpful fellow rogues you think I ought to meet?"

"I could just portal out of here and abandon you, you know," said Molly.

"You'd miss my sparkling personality."

"Look, don't knock yourself, Eddie. You got a lot more out of Oddly John than I ever did. And I do have another rogue in mind. Someone who could be very helpful. He knows a lot of things. He's called the Mole."

"Now there's a name that inspires confidence."

"Do you want to meet him or not?"

"Does he have three friends called Ratty, Toad, and Badger?" I said hopefully.

Molly sighed. "This is revenge for me introducing you to Mr. Stab, isn't it?"

"No, really, I can't wait to meet Mr. Mole in his hole."

She looked at me. "Your arm's worse, isn't it?"

"Yes. Let's go."

Molly summoned up another spatial portal, frowning with concentration. The process seemed to take longer this time, and sweat ran freely down her face. The air churned and whirled before us, spinning around and around like water going down a plughole. It plucked us off the hilltop and into itself, and we were off on our travels again.

When Molly and I reappeared, we were standing in a toilet cubicle. It was very cramped. Molly and I were pressed tightly together, face to face. Anywhen else, I might have taken a moment to enjoy it, but unfortunately I had one leg jammed down the toilet bowl.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," said Molly.

"Don't even go there," I said, struggling to remove my foot from the bowl. "Do I take it we're not where we were supposed to be?"

"Of course not! But it could have been worse."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," I said.

"What?"

"It would appear the previous occupant didn't flush. Would you please breathe in so I can get my foot out?"

We struggled together for a moment, banging loudly against the sides of the cubicle, and finally I was able to jerk my foot free. The bottom of my trouser leg was soaked, and I didn't want to think what with. I glared at Molly.