The Castle of the Demon

by Reginald Hill

  ‘Oh no. Then you are concerned? How touching. No, there’s no sign anywhere. Which can only mean the worst. Or the best, perhaps. He was a very dangerous kind of man. I’ve been trying to edge him out for some little time.

  ‘Well, my love, if you’re in no mood for the pleasures of the flesh, perhaps we should make an end of the matter.’

  Emily suddenly felt a desperate need to play for time.

  ‘Burgess. You mentioned Burgess. What’s he got to do with all this?’

  ‘Nothing really. Another creation of mine. I felt it best to have you watched. Also should your real identity be discovered, Burgess was a good support for my role as the jealous husband having his errant wife spied upon. You saw how effective this was earlier. Petard’s a shrewd old stick, but too ready to accept the situation he thinks he understands. Have you slept with Burgess, by the way?’

  ‘No!’ Emily was surprised at her own indignation.

  ‘Oh. I wondered if his feeling for you could have taken him that far. But he did his job well; within his limitations, that is. Well, I think it’s time.’

  He looked at his watch.

  ‘I’m lunching with the Lord Lieutenant of the County in forty-five minutes.’

  Suddenly terror was reborn in Emily’s throat. This was worse than last night. The sun was shining outside, birds singing. Distantly she could see some people playing on the beach by the water’s edge. They had a tiny dog with them. She thought of Cal and tears filled her eyes.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ said Sterne in a kindly voice. She knew then he was mad, and knew that she had known it for years. Not mad in a raving, eccentric, immediately observable way, but quietly, obsessively, terrifyingly mad. An insanity which had given him the strength of will and character to develop power from weakness, riches from poverty, and which then had taken him further and further, till he had become this. She knew why he had betrayed his country. Not for political theory, she was sure of that. Money would help, but not be enough. No, it was a question of taking all the power you had under one system and secretly putting it at the disposal of another system. That way you doubled your power.

  All these thoughts mixed confusedly, obscurely, with the vapours of terror which were now clouding her brain. Why she felt so frightened she did not know. He was powerfully built and fit, but he was nearly sixty. He had no weapon, or at least he had not yet produced one. She would certainly leave her mark on him if it came to a struggle. Her screams would be heard. There were other people in the house, perhaps in neighbouring rooms.

  And in any case how did he hope to explain either her disappearance, if that could be arranged, or the presence of her obviously assaulted body?

  No. She banished that question firmly from her mind. Difficulties of explanation after the event were of no real consolation to her.

  She began to move slowly to the door. He obviously noticed, but made no move to stop her. His utter lack of concern was the most frightening thing of all.

  She turned the handle. She didn’t recollect Sterne using a key after he came in, but nevertheless the door was locked. He nodded as if reading her mind.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’ll just have to knock till someone comes.’

  It was crazy. Her throat was quite dry with fear. She began to shake the door handle with her left hand and beat on the panel with the other. She realised instantly it was a very very solid door.

  ‘Harder,’ he urged, glancing at his watch. ‘Harder.’

  She obeyed, knowing why she did but not why he’d given the order. Now she began to shout too.

  At last, beautifully clear, there was a little click in the lock and the handle turned. She stood back from the door as it opened inwards.

  Major Glover stood there, a look of faint concern on his face.

  ‘Thank God!’ she said with heartfelt relief and stepped towards him.

  He glanced across at Sterne who shook his head. The Major put his hand on her right breast and pushed firmly. She staggered back two steps into the room. He came right in and locked the door behind him.

  ‘Major!’ she cried fearfully, still not comprehending what was happening. ‘He’s a spy! It’s him! He’s behind it all. Please, let me out! Fetch the Colonel!’

  ‘As you can see, Glover,’ said Sterne rather sadly, ‘she’s bent on talking. I tried to convince her it was all an error, an absurd coincidence, but I couldn’t. We’ll have to quieten her.’

  ‘A pity,’ said the Major. He looked at Emily as if he meant it.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said, drawing back against the wall. ‘Not you too.’

  ‘Why, Emily!’ said Sterne, ‘you didn’t think I could manage alone?’

  She didn’t know whether he meant the organisation of the college or her murder. She didn’t want to know.

  ‘The orders had to be swapped round,’ went on Sterne. ‘Everyone blamed poor Ball for that too, but it was really outside his scope.’

  ‘Let’s hurry it up, shall we?’ said Glover.

  Emily was still sufficiently alert to notice the lack of deference in his tone.

  ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said, in a voice full of genuine apology. ‘You should have got out after I gave you that scare.’

  ‘Scare?’ she said faintly.

  ‘Yes. When I saw you through the window.’

  ‘That was you? The first green man?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. Just checking that Ball hadn’t dropped the book in before Scott got to him. You shouldn’t have been so brave.’

  ‘She is brave, isn’t she?’ said Sterne in a tone full of possessive pride. ‘Listen, my dear. What we are going to do with you is quite simple. The Major here is one of our most expert “green men”, as you call them. He is going to break your neck with a simple little jerk, then we are going to push you from the window. Or rather the Major is after I’ve left for my luncheon engagement. I will, of course, testify to your extreme nervous tension, your great excitability. I have enough influence to keep the whole sad business very quiet indeed. Not as quiet as you, of course.’

  Emily began to scream. Glover, who had moved quietly behind her as Sterne talked, put his hand over her mouth and pinched her nose with his thumb and finger at the same time.

  ‘Don’t gloat,’ he said to Sterne in a voice full of disgust.

  Emily felt a sharp pricking sensation at the base of her spine. For a second she thought this was some fearful prelude to the cracking of her neck, but Glover released her gently on to the bed and she saw the hypodermic in his hand.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ demanded Sterne. ‘They’ll spot the puncture.’

  ‘Unlikely,’ said the Major. ‘It’s better to have her quiet when it’s done. There mustn’t be any sign of a struggle.’

  Emily felt a terrible weakness begin to drift through her body.

  ‘Look,’ said Glover. ‘Isn’t there some other way? Do we have to …?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to tell,’ said Emily faintly. ‘He’s doing this for himself, his own satisfaction!’

  ‘Is she right?’ asked the Major, eyeing Sterne sharply.

  ‘She is a dying woman. She would say anything to save herself,’ said Sterne coldly. Suddenly he seemed to have lost all interest. ‘As you’ve managed to put her in that state, you can finish the job quite easily by yourself. I really must go or I’ll be very late. Of course, I shan’t get any lunch when I get there. The news of my wife’s death will be waiting for me and I’ll have to come straight back. What a charade it all is!’

  He unlocked the door and turned the handle. Glover turned to Emily, pity in his eyes.

  He’s looking at me like a pet that’s to be put down. The sooner it’s done, the better! thought Emily in panic. Her strength had almost entirely gone.

  Then the door burst open violently, catching Sterne full in the chest and flinging him back into the room so that he fell on the bed across her legs.

  Standing in the doorway, his dark face haggard and unshaven, hi
s left shoulder bandaged round and round and his arm in a sling was Michael Scott. In his other hand was a big, beautiful gun.

  He took a step forward and kicked the door shut behind him so that he could see the entire room.

  ‘Emily,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’

  Tears began to stream down her face. She was absurdly, ludicrously touched that his first words were addressed to her.

  Sterne lay still on the bed. She knew he wouldn’t move till he saw reason for it. But she saw something else very curious through her tears. Michael was paying no attention at all to Glover. It crossed her mind that he considered Glover no threat. And she could see the same realisation dawning on the Major’s face.

  ‘Michael,’ she tried to cry warningly. ‘Michael.’ But the words came out pathetically, brokenly, and with a snarl of anger he pushed Sterne off the bed on to the floor and bent over her.

  He must have seen something of what she meant in her eyes, however, for the look of tenderness on his face changed and he swung round to see Glover’s fist descending on him.

  He was quick enough to fall away under the blow, but he couldn’t evade the foot that snaked rapidly out and hacked the automatic from his grasp.

  He scrambled to his feet and for a moment the two men crouched facing each other.

  ‘This is a surprise, Robin,’ said Scott softly.

  ‘That’s a real compliment coming from you,’ grinned Glover, and threw himself at his opponent. There was no room to sidestep and Michael was carried back to smash against the wall. Emily saw him twist at the last moment so that it was his good shoulder which hit first. Even then the pain the sudden jar must have cost him was evident in the twisting of his face as he grappled one-armed with the Major.

  Glover’s expertise as a ‘green man’ was obvious to the most inexpert eye. With Michael fit it would have been a desperately even contest. But now as they got back to their feet again, as though by mutual agreement, he was able to come rushing in chopping with both hands while Scott could merely use his good arm to ward off some of the blows. His only counters came with the feet and these Glover evaded with contemptuous ease. The whole bout would have been finished in under a minute if Sterne hadn’t taken a hand.

  He rose to a kneeling position by the side of the bed.

  The movement caught Emily’s eye.

  He’s saying his prayers! was her first frivolous reaction. Then she saw Michael’s automatic in his hands. He held it out before him and took aim two-handed. Michael was finished now, hardly able to stand up, leaning back against the door.

  Glover looked across at Sterne and made a gesture of negation at the gun which Sterne ignored. His fingers pulled back the trigger.

  Emily with a monumental effort rolled sideways and fell out of the bed on top of him.

  There were three sharp explosions in rapid succession. A red-hot cartridge was ejected on to her dress and she could smell the fabric smouldering. She rolled over again so that it was dislodged, and raised her head.

  Michael stood alone by the door, looking down. Where Glover had been standing there were three crimson-stained irradiations of plaster in the wall. They were smudged downwards to where the Major sat slumped forward on the floor. He was obviously dead.

  Sterne rose beneath her, unceremoniously thrusting her aside. He still had the gun in his hand. He looked down unemotionally at Glover.

  ‘Providence is a mysterious force,’ he said. ‘You look in bad shape, Scott.’

  ‘I’ll do,’ said Michael sourly.

  ‘If I let you,’ said Sterne.

  He stood in thought for a moment, the gun levelled unwaveringly at Michael’s chest.

  ‘We couldn’t come to some arrangement, I suppose?’ he said.

  ‘No,’

  Silence again.

  ‘There’ll be others coming now, I take it?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  He nodded, came to a decision.

  ‘Here, then. It’s better you should have this.’

  He reversed the gun in his hand, blew on his fingers as they encountered the hot barrel, and handed it over to Scott.

  ‘I’ve no desire to end like that,’ he said with distaste, indicating Glover’s body. ‘Why go in for heroics? I’ll get thirty years, I daresay, but with what I know, I’ll be out in two or three. A couple of business men. A student perhaps. They’ll pick them up till they’ve got enough for a nice package deal. Why, with the information I’ve given them, they could go out tomorrow and bring in a dozen.’

  He’s nervous, thought Emily. That’s turned him garrulous. But it’s probably true.

  Looking at Scott, she saw he thought so too. His face went even tauter, if that were possible, and she thought for a moment he was going to press the trigger. Resisting arrest. She’d have gladly lied for him.

  But he glanced at her and relaxed. She knew it was just her presence that had saved Sterne.

  He seemed to sense this too and bent over her, his old courtesy returning like a parody of itself.

  ‘Let me give you a hand, my dear,’ he said, drawing her up to her knees.

  ‘Come on!’ said Scott, savagely opening the door.

  It must have looked as if Sterne had knocked her down, said Emily later, defensively. But privately she believed it would have made no difference at all.

  Through the open door she heard the sound of footsteps. Many footsteps, running fast. The shots must have been heard. However dulled, however distant, shots were things the men in this house would recognise instantly.

  That was what she heard. But what she saw in the doorway was not a man. It was an avenging demon, a brown and white fury, huge with red mouth wide agape and white teeth shining horribly beneath the tightly drawn-back lips.

  ‘Cal!’ she shouted.

  He cleared the gap between them in a single bound, propelled dear off the ground by the thrust of his powerful haunches. No sound came from him. His outstretched front legs caught Sterne Follett full in the chest. He was thrust back against the wall, all poise, elegance, control, authority gone.

  He had time for a single cry.

  ‘Emily!’ he screamed.

  Then the great dog took him by the throat and severed veins, arteries, windpipe and all with a single constriction of his jaws.

  He didn’t worry the body, but turned immediately from the lifeless husk before it had even slid down to the floor. Now he barked once joyfully at Emily, who put her arm defensively round his neck and held herself between him and the group of dumbstruck men who stood in horror by the door.

  ‘He put his eye out,’ she sobbed. ‘It was Sterne that blinded him. It was Sterne.’

  Then her voice became inaudible in her weeping.

  10

  ‘Sterne could not bear imperfection,’ she said quietly. ‘Everything had to be flawless. That’s how I got in on the act in the first place. That sounds vain, I know, but physically I was dead lucky. Skin, hair, eyes, proportions; at eighteen I was in peak condition.’

  You’re like something in a remnant sale now,’ said Michael Scott, examining her critically. Her nose was still invisible beneath its dressing, her arms and legs crisscrossed with scratches from gorse and briar.

  ‘Snap,’ she said. He laughed and moved his arm in its sling to show how trivial it all was. She saw him wince.

  ‘It serves you right for showing off,’ she said. ‘Glover made a good job of your face too.’

  He said nothing, but she felt his eyes fixed on her behind the bruise-concealing dark glasses.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘when Cal was born I was lucky enough to see him first. Sterne loved thoroughbreds, or rather admired them, gave them his lordly approval. If he had seen Cal before I did, the poor beast would have been destroyed on the spot.’

  She laughed at the memory of her first acquaintance with the puppy.

  ‘Mind you, he did look odd. I can’t imagine what his mother had been up to.’

  ‘Can’t you?’

 
She ignored him.

  ‘So I helped myself to him, brought him up secretly for several weeks, but he soon grew too large for concealment. When Sterne saw him he told me to get rid of him. I refused. This was the first time I’d ever really stood up to him, I think. But I needed Cal even more than he needed me at that time. Sterne shrugged, told me to keep him out of his way and that seemed to be that. Cal grew and grew and grew. Naturally he became interested in finding himself a bitch. There wasn’t much future in the average mongrel running loose in the park, not at his size. So with great ingenuity he sought out and began to court two or three of the thoroughbred Danes Sterne bred on his estate.’

  She went silent. They were standing on the shore almost at the Point watching the waters run swiftly down the estuary. It was the second day after Sterne had died.

  ‘And?’ Scott prompted gently. She had to finish what she had started.

  ‘Sterne found him there. He had a heavy brass-embossed riding crop with him. He beat him round the head with it, driving him back out of the pen. Cal didn’t have enough sense to run, and he was too gentle to attack.’

  ‘He’s changed.’

  ‘Just for Sterne.’ He never forgot. When the vet cleared up the mess and dressed the wounds, he told me that he was blind in one eye. After that, just the smell of Sterne round the house, the sound of his footstep two rooms away, set his anger going. I think it was that also that finally made up my mind for me. It took another three months but I did it. I left Sterne.’

  Silence again. A seagull floated low over them, cruciform in flight, its wings laid back stiffly from the beautifully barrelled aerodynamic body. Like a trout with wings.

  ‘Would you have brought Cal with you if you’d known?’ Emily asked suddenly.

  ‘What he would do to Sterne? I don’t know. I really had no choice. When I crawled into your cottage that night he made me very welcome. He even extended his courtesy to Miranda when she turned up an hour later. She always finds me out in the end, like a real woman. They wanted to lick me better between them. But I managed to ring the doctor nevertheless, just for a second opinion. Rogers knows something of the college. He has td. We have injuries on exercises, that kind of thing, which are to say the least suspicious. So when he saw the state I was in he kept it quiet, gave me a jab and put me to bed in the cottage. When I woke up it was light. I got in touch with Parfrey. He told me you were all right.’