Dead Souls Volume One (Parts 1 to 13)

by Amy Cross

  ***

  “So how long have you known Edgar?” she asked, sitting with her shirt off as Doctor Young took a stethoscope from his bag.

  “Long enough,” he replied with a smile. “Edgar and I go back a few years.”

  “Were you childhood friends?”

  “I haven't known him quite that long. We first met in Monte Carlo, when I was working with some of the racing series that use the streets of the principality, and Edgar and I happened to both be guests at one of the larger charity fundraisers. I was just there 'cause I'd begged a ticket, but Edgar was spending big that night. I guess today isn't the first time he's gone out of his way to make a good impression on people.”

  “I looked him up online,” she replied. “There's really no information about him.”

  “Edgar values his privacy. He's not a man who wants to be famous, not by any means.”

  Although she was still somewhat on her guard after the strange encounter in the room earlier, Kate was finding Doctor Young to be a friendly man, with none of the aloofness that she'd expected. They were in one of the upstairs rooms, with the sound of the party drifting through the house, and although she didn't want to seem too keen, Kate was still determined to mine the doctor for a little information. As she opened her mouth to ask another question, however, she gasped as she felt the cold metal of the stethoscope against her back, just above her bra strap.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I should have warned you. It's cold.”

  She smiled as she waited for him to continue.

  “You have a very slight heart murmur,” he said after a moment. “Is that something you were aware of before?”

  “No,” she replied, shocked by the news. “What do you mean? How serious is it?”

  “It's very faint,” he continued, “but it's definitely there. So it's never been diagnosed before?”

  She shook her head.

  “And you've never experienced any symptoms? No palpitations, shortness of breath, that kind of thing?”

  “Never.”

  “Sorry for all the questions,” he continued, “but I want to work out if this is a long-standing condition that has gone undiagnosed, or something that has been brought about by whatever happened to you. Although I don't see how a murmur like this could have gone undetected. In fact, I'm surprised that Doctor Burns didn't notice it when he examined you the other day. Then again, he seems a little...”

  Kate waited for him to finish.

  “A little what?” she asked eventually.

  “I've only been here for a few hours,” he continued, “but already at the party I've helped three locals with minor medical problems that really should never have been allowed to get so bad. I know it's not really my place to criticize a colleague, but I'm getting the impression that Doctor Burns might not be quite as on the ball as he once was. I mean, the guy's passed out already.”

  “This heart murmur,” Kate replied, turning to him as he walked over to his medical bag on a nearby table. “Could it have been caused by some kind of physical trauma?”

  “Like a wolf attack?” He paused. “Edgar told me what happened to you. Or rather, he told me what he thinks happened. I know a wolf was caught a few days later, but I don't mind telling you that I have my doubts. If you'd been mauled by a wolf, you'd either be dead or at the very least in hospital.”

  “So what do you think happened to me?” she asked.

  “Based on just a superficial exam?” Another pause. “Hard to say. There's only one type of animal that I know of that could cause such specific, and apparently carefully planned, injuries.”

  “What animal would that be?”

  “It would be a human.” He turned to her. “But like I told you, it's hard to say. Right now, I'm more concerned with your heart murmur, which couldn't possibly be caused by the attack.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “I'd have to run more checks. Probably not, but it's always good to be careful. I'm curious about how it apparently went undetected for so long. There are so many possible causes, it feels useless to speculate right now.” Taking a small device from his bag, he carried it back over to her. “I want to attach this to you for a few hours. It only needs to be taped to your skin, and it'll record your heart-rate. As well as the murmur, I picked up some other kind of irregularity that I want to check out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don't be alarmed. You're clearly fit and healthy.”

  Kate waited as she felt the device being placed on her skin and taped into place.

  “There's never a dull moment around Edgar, is there?” Doctor Young continued. “I consider him to be a friend, but I have to admit that trouble seems to follow that man like a cloud. And I'm not just talking about that wild rat of a fiance.”

  “You don't like her?” Kate asked.

  “You do?”

  “I don't understand what he sees in her,” she continued. “I don't really know her very well, but so far she seems...”

  She paused, trying to think of the right word.

  “Feral?” Doctor Young suggested.

  “Blunt,” she replied.

  “Dumb? Vapid?”

  “Screechy.” Kate paused again. “I'm sure she's nice enough, but a man like Edgar could probably do better. The way he talks to her, he doesn't even seem to like her very much. I've never really seen any affection between them.”

  “It makes me wonder what he really wants in a woman,” Doctor Young replied as he fiddled with some settings on the device. “I always had him down as a refined kinda guy, someone who appreciated good company and conversation. I can't tell you how shocked I was when he introduced me to that bimbo. I thought it was a joke at first. Well, to be honest, I actually thought she was a hooker. I guess I never had Edgar down as someone who'd fall for a pair of fake breasts and a permanent tan. She got her claws into him when he was vulnerable, though. After all the business with James Nixon, I mean.”

  “Who's James Nixon?”

  “You don't know?”

  She turned to him. “I've never heard that name before in my life.”

  “It was kept pretty quiet,” he continued, “or at least, it was kept out of the press. Plenty of people in Edgar's circles were talking about it, though. Has he really never mentioned it?”

  She shook her head.

  “James Nixon was Edgar's business partner,” Doctor Young continued. “He was his friend, too. In fact, it was James who introduced me to Edgar that night in Monte Carlo. The pair of them got along so well for a while. As I've gotten to know Edgar better, I've come to realize how rare it is for him to have an actual friend... someone he can confide in, someone he can just talk to without constantly playing psychological games. They had all these plans, too. James was a smart guy, someone with ideas, and Edgar's got the money to bankroll those ideas and bring them to the market. In a way, it was a natural fit. I'm talking about projects that could really change the world. Renewable energy, new mining techniques, thermo-dynamic engine modeling and so much more.”

  “So what went wrong?” Kate asked.

  “That's the million dollar question. Or rather, the billion dollar question. They just seemed to fall out one day, for reasons that were never made clear. For a few weeks there was a monumental tussle for control of the company they'd co-founded. Edgar was able to keep it out of the newspapers for the most part, but gossip still circulated in the business world. For a while, it seemed as if Edgar was going to lose everything, and then one day, out of the blue...”

  He paused for a moment.

  “One day what?” Kate asked.

  “James Nixon vanished.” Another pause, and it was clear that Doctor Young felt uncomfortable. He glanced at the door, as if to make sure that there was no danger of them being overheard. “There's been a lot of gossip,” he continued, “but no-one was ever able to find any trace of James, not even so much as a hair. His suite at the hotel was locked from the inside, cameras showed nothing untoward, he
never tried to contact anyone or withdraw money. One of the world's most promising young entrepreneurs just vanished overnight. No financial trail, nothing forensic, nothing in his emails to suggest that he was having problems... It was as if he just disappeared into thin air.”

  “Do you think he was kidnapped?” Kate asked.

  “I know there was a big police investigation,” he continued, “and that Edgar was the prime suspect for a while. But in the end they weren't able to come up with anything. As far as I know, the case is still open. Edgar and Didi stayed in Monte Carlo for a while, but the pressure and gossip became intense so they moved, first to Rome, then Barcelona, then London and New York, even Hong Kong for a while. Eventually Edgar decided that he could never be at peace until he came back to his family's home here on Thaxos. Did he never tell you any of this?”

  Kate shook her head, shocked to learn that Edgar's life prior to Thaxos had been so eventful.

  “Please don't let on that I said anything,” Doctor Young continued. “It wasn't really my place, and I imagine it's something that he's trying to leave behind. He's already been the subject of so much gossip, it really wouldn't be fair to add any more.”

  “But...” Kate paused as he finished adjusting the device and went back over to his bag.

  “You can get dressed again,” he told her. “I'll need to check the readings in a few hours. Once I know how your heart-rate changes over a longer period of time, I can make a more informed guess as to the nature of the problem. I don't want to alarm you too much, Kate. It's probably nothing serious.”

  “No-one seriously believes that Edgar is responsible for what happened to his business partner, do they?” she asked. “Sure, he can be a little awkward sometimes, but no-one actually suspects him of kidnapping someone... or worse?”

  Doctor Young turned to her with a concerned look in his eyes.

  “Do they?” she added.

  “He's my friend,” the doctor replied after a moment, “and so I personally don't believe that he killed James Nixon, no. Of course, I'm probably biased.” He shrugged. “If he'd been involved, the police would have linked it to him by now. Anyway, I happen to think that it's all worked out for the best. Edgar's happier being here on Thaxos. It's where he belongs. In fact, he's got a big surprise linked up for everyone later.”

  “What kind of surprise?” Kate asked, thinking back to the cloth-faced woman in the room. She felt a shiver pass through her body at the thought of those torn holes in the fabric, and the eyes staring at her from the other side.

  “I've already spilled enough secrets for one day,” Doctor Young continued. “Let's just say that this is a day that no-one is going to forget in a hurry. Edgar's going to give the people of Thaxos the one thing they want more than any other. In fact, I helped him out with it a little. It's an astonishing achievement, but I think maybe I've said too much already. Just promise me, Kate, that if you feel anything unusual over the next few hours, you'll come and find me. Don't go to Doctor Burns, he's not... He doesn't have my full confidence, that's all.”

  “Sure,” Kate replied, realizing that she was unlikely to get any more information from him. “I'll let you know if anything happens. And... thank you, Doctor Young. I could tell something was wrong, but I had no idea what.”

  “Call me Dale. And you're welcome. Any friend of Edgar's is a friend of mine.”

  Once Doctor Young had left the room, Kate made her way to the window and looked out across the lawn. It was barely midday, and the garden party was in full swing, with everyone seemingly having a great time. After a moment, she spotted Edgar making his way through the crowd, shaking hands with everyone he met. As she watched him, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of surprise he was planning, and whether the cloth-faced woman had anything to do with what was coming next.

  V

  “What are you, a coward?” Cavaleri asked. “Get on with it!”

  She and Fernando were standing on the quayside, staring up at the hulking shape of Edgar Le Compte's supply boat. At least sixty feet long, and fitted out with rusty, jet black metal panels, the boat barely looked seaworthy, yet it had been traveling to and from Thaxos almost constantly over the past few months, delivering whatever items Edgar deemed necessary, seemingly manned by yet more of his quiet workers. Most of the locals had only dared observe the boat from a distance, seeing it as an ominous symbol of the changes that had recently been brought to the island. The town square stood next to the harbor and was usually busy during the day, but people tended to avoid the area whenever the boat was around.

  “I'm not scared,” Fernando said after a moment, his eyes fixed on the deck above them, “it's just... What if there's someone onboard?”

  “There isn't,” Cavaleri replied. “We've called out for attention and no-one replied. All Le Compte's men are up at the party, but the longer you wait, the more likely it is that they'll come back. So get on the damn thing and see what you can find.”

  “Most boats leave at least one person behind to -”

  “This isn't most boats. Le Compte does things differently. If there was a lookout, we'd know by now.”

  “But...”

  “I'll warn you if anyone comes,” she continued. “You've got your phone with you, haven't you?”

  Fernando nodded.

  “I've checked with all the local ports on the mainland,” she added. “None of them have seen any sign of this boat for months. It's never away for more than a week at a time, so there's a limit to how far it can go, but it hasn't been reported anywhere.”

  “So where does it pick up supplies?” Fernando asked, turning to her.

  “That's what I need help finding out,” she replied. “Le Compte might have acted surprised earlier, but I guarantee you that the lack of documents was no mistake. You need to go into the captain's office and find something that gives us a clue. An invoice, a tracking statement... anything with the name of another port. I want to know what Le Compte is bringing to Thaxos and why, and I want to know where he's getting it from. For all I know, this could be some kind of drug-smuggling operation.”

  “I really don't think he's into that sort of thing.”

  “It was just an example.”

  “Are you sure you can't just serve a warrant and go onboard yourself?”

  “And give him a heads up?” No chance.” She paused. “If you can't do it, Fernando, just say so and I'll find a real man.”

  “I can do it,” he replied, stepping toward the edge of the quayside.

  The boat's gangplank had been drawn up, but there were enough lines hanging down the side to make boarding a simple enough task. Reaching up and grabbing the thickest rope, he gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, before starting to haul himself up. He had to rapel up the side of the boat, but finally he was able to climb over the top. Getting to his feet, he stared across the creepily bare deck, which had plenty of ropes and old chains strewn across the boards but which seemed strangely undisturbed.

  Hearing his mobile phone ringing in his pocket, he pulled it out and saw that Cavaleri was calling.

  “Well?” she said as soon as he answered. “What's it like up there?”

  “It's a boat,” he replied, making his way across the deck, “what do you think it's like? It's got all the equipment you'd need.”

  “Go to the bridge.”

  “There's something weird about this place,” he continued. “I've worked on boats before, and I'm telling you, the crew always leave stuff around, but this place is so neat and tidy. Either Le Compte's got the most conscientious crew in human history, or...”

  He paused as he reached the door that led into the bridge. Reaching out, he tried to wipe some of the dust off the window, only to find that it was caked on the glass from the inside. Making his way around to the front of the bridge, he found that the same was true of the main window.

  “How do they see out?” he muttered.

  “What's wrong?”

  “This place is more like
a museum than a working boat,” he continued. “The windows are covered in crap from the inside.” He cupped a hand over the glass, in an attempt to get a look at the bridge, but all he could see was darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, however, he was finally able to make out the main navigation desk, as well as the ship's wheel. Heading back around to the door, he tried the handle, only to find that it was locked. “I can't get in,” he said after a moment.

  “Find a way,” Cavaleri replied.

  “I can't start breaking windows,” he pointed out.

  Cavaleri sighed. “Don't you know how to pick a lock?”

  “No!”

  “Jesus,” she continued, “then just smash the glass. If Le Compte comes to me and complains that there's been a break-in, I'll just tell him there's nothing I can do.”

  Fernando glanced both ways, checking to make sure that there were no cameras. The boat seemed so old and decrepit, it was hard to believe that there was any kind of modern technology at all.

  “What are you waiting for?” Cavaleri hissed. “At this rate, the garden party's gonna be over before you get in there. Christ, there's a sentence I never thought I'd say!”

  “Breaking in doesn't seem right,” Fernando replied. “It's one thing to come onboard, but actually -”

  “As your local police officer,” Cavaleri said firmly, “I am ordering you to break that window and enter the bridge.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Just get on with the job!”

  Sighing, Fernando took a step back and grabbed a large metal hook that had been left on one of the oil drums. He turned it over in his hands for a moment, weighing up his options, before finally deciding that he had no choice. Aiming at the bottom left corner of the window, he slammed the hook against the glass. The first time, nothing happened, but when he tried again with more force, the window shattered, sending a shower of glass down to the deck. Instinctively, Fernando turned to make sure that no-one had come running, and his heart was racing now, even though there was no sign of anyone else onboard. Despite his reservations, he was starting to realize that the boat really had been left unmanned.

  “Get in there!” Cavaleri hissed over the phone.

  “Are you sure no-one's coming?”

  “I can see the road that leads down from the hill,” she continued. “You'll have at least five minutes' warning if anyone leaves the mansion.”

  Reaching through the broken window, Fernando fumbled for the lock before finally finding the dial and giving it a turn. Pulling the door open, he stepped onto the boat's bridge, which turned out to smell fusty and damp, as if no-one had been in the room for years. All the requisite equipment was in place, but again it felt as if it had been laid out as part of a museum rather than as a working boat, and when he reached the navigation table and checked the chart books, he found that they just seemed to be a random assortment, none of which appeared to have been opened for quite some time. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, with more dust drifting through the air.

  “Anything?” Cavaleri asked.

  “This isn't a working boat,” Fernando replied, heading over to the wheel. “It can't be. No-one's been in here for ages.”

  “The damn thing only arrived yesterday,” came the reply.

  “Then there must be another bridge,” he insisted, “because I'm telling you, there's no way this place could be used to guide a goddamn dinghy.”

  “Have you found anything to indicate a route?” she asked.

  Heading over to the far end of the room, Fernando wiped dust off a set of papers before holding them up and taking a look. He saw a list of port names, but few of them were local, and when he looked at the dates he realized why: these logs covered more than half a century of travel, during which time the boat had been to almost every port in the world. Johannesburg, Oslo, Boston, Southampton, Melbourne, Dubai, Barcelona... It was like a list of every decent-sized port in existence. As he scanned the dates, however, Fernando realized that there was nothing listed after the early 1980s, as if the boat had been nowhere in the intervening years.

  “This doesn't make any sense,” he said after a moment, checking for any other logs. “They must keep the recent documents somewhere else.”

  “Then keep looking,” Cavaleri replied. “You're not getting off that boat until you've got something I can use!”

  Spotting a door nearby, Fernando headed over and tried the handle. To his surprise, the door swung open, and he looked through to see a set of steps heading deep into the belly of the vessel.

  “I've found a way down,” he said after a moment.

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  Flicking a switch on the wall, he was surprised to find that the electric lights still worked.

  “Are you sure there's no chance of anyone sneaking up on us?” he asked.

  “Of course not,” she replied. “I'm not stupid. Now get down there and find something I can use against Le Compte. You've already done the hard work. All you need now is to find a scrap of paper.” She paused for a moment. “Move!”

  After taking a moment to listen out for any hint of noise from the depths of the vessel, Fernando began to make his way down the steps, each of which creaked a little under his weight. Although he knew full well that the boat had been sailing regularly for at least the previous three months, he quickly found the a thick cobweb was covering his path.

  “Working boat, my ass,” he muttered, brushing the cobweb aside and making his way further down the steps.