Death Shall Come

by Simon R. Green

  ‘Are you sure we’re following the Colonel’s directions properly?’ Penny said abruptly. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen you look at them once.’

  ‘That’s because I memorized them before we left,’ I said patiently. ‘And I haven’t given you any directions in ages because this is the only road there is. No turnings, no surprises, not even a pothole to break the monotony. We should be seeing a sign up ahead sometime soon, pointing down a private road that will take us straight to Cardavan House.’

  ‘I don’t see a sign anywhere in this bloody wilderness,’ said Penny, glaring ahead into the failing light. ‘Why can’t we just enter our destination into the satnav? It’s got a lovely posh voice that I paid extra for.’

  ‘Only because you fancied the actor who provided it.’ I stretched slowly in my seat, though there wasn’t enough legroom for that to help much. ‘We can’t use the satnav, because Cardavan House isn’t on any map. The family takes its security very seriously.’

  Penny’s scowl deepened dangerously. ‘We’re going to be spending another weekend in another dreary old country house, aren’t we? I’m getting really fed up with that. And I’m telling you right now, if people start dying on us again we’re leaving!’

  ‘I thought you liked playing ace girl detective,’ I said mildly.

  ‘I do! It’s just … Why can’t murders and mysteries ever take place somewhere nice? I mean, really nice.’

  ‘Cardavan House might be nice …’

  ‘Look around us!’ Penny said savagely. ‘This whole area would need decades of economic investment just to qualify as a disaster zone. It’s been ages since we left that little village behind, and I can’t remember the last time I passed any other traffic on this road.’

  ‘Keep going,’ I said. ‘Cardavan House can’t be far now. If only because if we keep going, we’ll run out of world.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to live all the way out here?’ said Penny. ‘I mean, look at it! There’s nothing to look at.’

  ‘People have all kinds of reasons to want to get away from everything,’ I said wisely. ‘And the Cardavans have more grounds than most. If you owned the world’s biggest private collection of valuable Ancient Egyptian artefacts, you’d probably want to put as much distance as possible between you and the authorities. And any of your fellow collectors who might be overcome by jealousy or itchy fingers.’

  ‘Couldn’t you at least look at the directions?’ Penny pleaded. ‘Just for my peace of mind?’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I burned them before we left.’

  ‘You did what?’ The car lurched worryingly for a moment, before Penny got herself under control again. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘The Colonel’s instructions. Burn after reading. Very security conscious, our Colonel. As, presumably, are the Cardavans.’

  ‘They’d better have a mummy,’ Penny said darkly. ‘Only a proper mummy with a mysterious background and a really nasty death curse attached could make this journey worthwhile. I mean, I love mummies but …’

  ‘You mean you love the movies,’ I said. ‘Watching Hollywood movies to learn about mummies is like watching James Bond films to get an idea of what it would be like working for MI6.’

  ‘You like mummy movies too!’

  ‘Sometimes,’ I said. ‘I liked the opening sequence in the Boris Karloff film. Very atmospheric. And I did like the one with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing. Classic Hammer horror.’

  ‘I prefer the ones with Brendan Fraser,’ said Penny. ‘They’re more like … romantic adventures.’

  I had to smile. ‘When it comes to historical accuracy, I think the producers of those films decided very early on that wasn’t something they wanted anything to do with … There’s the sign!’

  The simple wooden sign jumped into the car’s headlights so suddenly we almost missed the turning. Penny stamped on the brake and swung the wheel hard round, the gear box making horrid noises as she crashed through the gears. I clung on grimly as we took the sharp curve on what felt like two wheels, and then we were roaring down another perfectly straight road.

  Two large gates of heavy black iron stood open before us, and Penny blasted between them without even slowing. I was actually a little relieved at this indication that we were on the right road at last. And then felt a little less relieved, as it occurred to me no one should have known we were there. I couldn’t believe the security-conscious Cardavans would leave their front gates standing open until we just happened to turn up. Even as I thought this, the gates smoothly swung shut behind us. Either to keep the world out or keep us in. Someone was watching us. And I am never comfortable with that.

  ‘OK,’ said Penny, glancing in the rear-view mirror. ‘That was just a little bit creepy.’

  ‘It’s all about security,’ I said. ‘I feel very secure now, don’t you?’

  ‘I lost all feeling in my bottom ages ago,’ Penny said grimly. ‘The sooner we can get out of this car and collapse into something comfortable, preferably with a large drink in both hands, the better.’

  The road became a gravel path, plunging through what seemed like acres of open grounds. No trees or hedges, no flower displays or lawn ornaments, nothing to show anybody lived here or gave a damn about their surroundings. The steady roar of the car was the only disturbance on the hushed evening air, as though the very landscape resented us being there.

  We drove for some time before Cardavan House finally loomed up ahead of us, standing tall and solid in its own massive pool of dazzling security lights. The Cardavans really didn’t want anyone sneaking up on them. Penny actually let out a brief cry of relief; but I wasn’t so sure. The house had a cold and forbidding aspect, more like a fortress than a home. It was square and blocky, almost brutal in its aesthetics. Three stories high, it looked like it had been built to keep people out, rather than nourish those within. Only a few lights showed at the many windows, all of them on the ground floor.

  There was nothing welcoming about the house. It looked like it had been dropped here in the middle of nowhere because nowhere else would have it. Just looking at the building made my skin crawl. It felt … spiritually unhealthy, as though the life within it had soured and gone off.

  ‘You’re frowning,’ said Penny. ‘Which is rarely a good sign. Should I be thinking seriously about turning the car round and making a run for it?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I promised the Colonel I’d help. But I have to say I’m worried about this family he’s married into. How could anything good thrive in a place like this?’

  ‘It does have a certain oppressive, even soul-destroying quality,’ said Penny. ‘Could it be Sick Building Syndrome?’

  ‘More like Put this Unnatural Thing out of its Misery Syndrome,’ I said.

  ‘Last chance to get the hell out of Dodge, sweetie.’

  ‘No. We go on.’

  Penny started singing the theme from the old Addams Family TV show, taking both hands off the steering wheel to do the finger snaps.

  When we finally reached the end of the long gravel road, the Colonel was there waiting for us. Standing stiffly in front of the main entrance, as though silently reprimanding us for being late. Penny brought the car to a sweeping halt right in front of him, shooting loose gravel in all directions. The Colonel didn’t even flinch. Penny shut down the engine with a flourish, and then leant over the steering wheel with an exaggerated groan of relief. I got out of the car, looked quickly around to assure myself the area was as empty as I thought it was, and then nodded to the Colonel. Penny half fell out of the driving seat, swore loudly, and slammed the door shut. She stretched her back, and vigorously massaged her backside with both hands.

  ‘If I’d known it was going to take this long, I’d have hired a chauffeur!’

  ‘Next time, I’ll drive,’ I said.

  ‘Not one of my cars, you won’t. I’ve seen you drive.’

  ‘I’m an excellent driver.’

  ‘It’s sweet that you think that.’<
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  We stood together before the Colonel, presenting a unified front in the face of an authority figure. He nodded briefly to both of us, entirely unmoved by anything he’d seen or heard. He looked positively imperious in his formal tuxedo, while still maintaining the casual style necessary to carry off such a look. He sniffed disparagingly at my casual black leather jacket and battered jeans, but managed a small smile for Penny’s powder-blue trouser suit. Chosen to match her car. She gave the Colonel a challenging look.

  ‘Didn’t expect to see me here, did you?’

  ‘I had hoped Mister Jones would take the hint and come alone,’ the Colonel said calmly, ‘But I gave up expecting him to do the reasonable thing long ago. I told the Cardavans to expect both of you. Try not to embarrass me in front of the family.’

  ‘How did you know to be out here to meet us?’ I said. ‘I didn’t see any security guards in the grounds.’

  ‘There aren’t any guards,’ said the Colonel. ‘The current head of the family doesn’t believe in them. He prefers extensive electronic surveillance; in the grounds, the perimeter, and most of the surrounding roads. We knew you were coming before you even approached the gates. How else do you think we knew to open them for you?’

  ‘Do the Cardavans really have that many enemies?’ said Penny.

  ‘There’s nothing like owning a major private collection to make you very concerned about all the people who might want to take it away from you,’ said the Colonel.

  ‘I didn’t see any cameras,’ I said. ‘And you know I have more experience than most when it comes to spotting such things.’

  ‘They’re very well hidden. Don’t worry, after you’ve left there won’t be any record of your being here. Because officially you never were.’

  ‘Story of my life,’ I said.

  Penny bestowed her most dazzling smile on the Colonel. ‘You’re looking very splendid in your tux, Colonel. If I’d known we were dressing formally for dinner, I’d have packed a more extensive wardrobe.’

  I gave her a hard look. ‘You already packed everything short of the wardrobe. I strained my back trying to force all your cases into the boot and the back seat. We’re only here for the weekend!’

  ‘A girl likes to have choices when it comes to looking her best,’ Penny said airily. She smiled at the Colonel again. ‘Ignore Ishmael. He’s just being Mister Grumpy.’

  ‘You can leave your cases in the entrance hall,’ said the Colonel. ‘I want you to meet the family before you go up to your room. It’s important you make a good first impression, Mister Jones.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t do that.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Penny. ‘He really doesn’t.’

  ‘Try,’ said the Colonel.

  I looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Anything I should know about before we go in? Any surprises, or changes in the situation?’

  ‘Nothing you can’t cope with,’ said the Colonel. ‘Just try to remember why you’re here.’

  ‘Show me the mummy,’ I said.

  The Colonel escorted Penny through the main door and into the entrance hall, while I struggled with the suitcases. One for me, and three for Penny. Fortunately, I’m a lot stronger than most people. I dropped the cases in the hall and kicked the door shut behind me. It produced a satisfyingly loud crash but the Colonel didn’t flinch, even as the echoes rumbled on. He was too busy showing off some of the house’s more interesting features to Penny.

  The entrance hall was long, high-ceilinged and disturbingly gloomy. Electric bulbs blazed in widely spaced chandeliers, but the light didn’t spread far enough to make much of an impression. Shadows lurked everywhere, as though waiting for a chance to sneak up on us. There was nothing in the least welcoming about the entrance hall; but that was hardly a surprise after seeing the exterior. Cardavan House was there for the family, no one else.

  Penny interrupted the Colonel’s lecture to gesture at the shadows and smile sweetly. ‘Are you having trouble with the electricity, Colonel?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘The current head of the family likes it this way. George believes in maintaining a suitable atmosphere. It’s all about what’s best for the collection.’

  I didn’t need to be told that. The Cardavan collection was already making its presence felt. Glass display cases with polished wood trimmings lined the whole length of the hall, packed with pottery, small statues, scarabs and reliquaries, and all the usual Ancient Egyptian bits and pieces. The leftovers and cultural debris of a vanished civilization. Once again, cat heads were everywhere, smiling their inscrutable smiles and regarding me suspiciously with unblinking eyes. Various papyrus scrolls covered in row upon row of hieroglyphics had been carefully unrolled and stretched out, under heavy glass of course, across the walls. I’d taught myself to read some of it before I left, enough to fake it in company. Typical of the Cardavans to have the world’s most expensive wallpaper.

  I moved slowly forward, peering into one display case after another. Dozens of clay stelae had been set out on plump purple velvet, in no particular order. I recognized some of the symbols etched or stamped on them. Nothing important or surprising; business records, mostly. But just seeing so many in one place was enough to convince me there was no way they could have got here legally.

  I ended up standing before a sarcophagus that had been leant nonchalantly against the wall, beside a battered grandfather clock. An ancient relic, set next to a more modern one. Penny and the Colonel came to stand on either side of me as I leaned in for a closer look at the coffin lid. The golden overlay was covered with the most exquisite artwork, the vivid colours barely faded. A full-length portrait of the personage within had been topped with a bas-relief face so stylized as to seem almost inhuman. I glanced at the Colonel.

  ‘Anyone I should have heard of?’

  ‘The occupant of this particular sarcophagus was called Nesmin,’ said the Colonel. ‘He’s not in there now, the coffin is empty. Down the years, mummy and case passed through many hands, bringing bad luck and disaster to one and all. Until the previous owner decided enough was enough and had the mummy burned. Reduced to ashes … which were then dumped in a fast-running river, just in case.’

  ‘Did people have any reason to believe these stories?’ I asked.

  The Colonel shrugged. ‘The Cardavans acquired the empty sarcophagus some time back. It makes for a great conversation piece.’

  ‘And the bad luck?’ said Penny.

  ‘Died with the mummy, Miss Belcourt,’ said the Colonel. ‘Or so they say.’

  ‘Please, call me Penny.’ She smiled at him winningly. ‘We’re all friends here.’

  The Colonel didn’t appear too convinced, but he inclined his head politely.

  ‘Penny has a point,’ I said. ‘I can’t call you Colonel in front of the Cardavans. So Penny is Penny, I am Ishmael … and you are?’

  ‘Stuart March,’ said the Colonel, staring determinedly at the sarcophagus.

  ‘Stuart … Yes, that works,’ said Penny.

  ‘It’s very you, Stuart,’ I said solemnly.

  ‘It’s going to be a long weekend,’ said the Colonel.

  He led us further into Cardavan House, down one gloomy corridor after another. I had to fight to keep from pulling a face. The air was increasingly saturated with rich, heavy scents, powerful enough to swamp my sense of smell. Spices, preservatives and chemicals hit me from every direction at once, until I had no choice but to dial down my sense of smell to the point where it was all but useless. Being able to detect scents other people couldn’t had saved my life on more than one occasion and I had to wonder … had this been specially arranged, just for me? But who in this place would know enough about me to do that? Even the Colonel didn’t know; or at least, he shouldn’t. Penny picked up on my discomfort, and put a questioning hand on my arm. I gave her a quick shake of the head behind the Colonel’s back, indicating that we’d talk about it later.

  ‘Why isn’t there a butler, Stuart?’ Penny said quickly.
‘With a house this size, I would have expected a full uniformed staff, all of them fighting each other to minister to our every need.’

  ‘Normally, there would be,’ said the Colonel. Or Stuart, as I had to think of him now. ‘But they’ve all been given the weekend off, since this is to be a private gathering to celebrate George’s new acquisition. So we’ll just have to rough it and look after ourselves.’

  ‘How will we ever survive?’ I murmured.

  ‘How did you come to be part of this family, Stuart?’ said Penny, glaring at me. ‘I mean, we need to know the background if we’re to make sense of the case.’

  Stuart slowed his pace, falling back so he could walk beside Penny and me. He stared straight ahead, his gaze giving nothing away, and when he spoke he seemed to be addressing some unseen audience rather than me or Penny. His tone was calm and casual. He could have been talking about anyone.

  ‘I was orphaned at an early age, and passed from one distant relative to another like an unwanted obligation. The moment I was old enough, I was sent to public school. Holidays were a nightmare. Just one place after another. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, because I was never made to feel like I belonged. I joined the Army the moment I left school, just to annoy my family. The one place I could be sure they couldn’t touch me.’

  ‘That’s so sad,’ said Penny.

  ‘Not a bit of it,’ Stuart said briskly. ‘The Army was the making of me. The regimental history gave me my first sense of being part of something greater than myself, and the Army became the first real family I’d ever known. And you get to take out your frustrations on people who you are firmly assured fit all the necessary criteria for “bad guys”. I liked having orders to follow, and people to give orders to.’

  ‘Imagine my surprise,’ I murmured.

  ‘I was happy in the Army,’ said Stuart. ‘I never wanted to leave … but I was wounded in action. In a country we weren’t officially supposed to be in. Rather than be stuck behind a desk, pushing papers around, I chose to resign my commission. I’d barely swapped my uniform for an ill-fitting suit when I was approached by Black Heir. I’d been through some unusual experiences during that last military action, and someone had been impressed by how I’d dealt with things.’