Very Important Corpses

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Very Important Corpses Page 14

by Simon R. Green


  I stood my ground, glaring coldly down the corridor, and one by one the guards lowered their weapons. I deliberately turned my back on them, and glowered at the guards I’d disarmed. Most were coming to their senses, and not looking at all happy about it. None of them wanted to meet my gaze. I think they were embarrassed at being taken down so easily. I looked back down the corridor at the other set of guards.

  ‘Put those guns away! Don’t make me have to come down there!’

  The guards quickly holstered their guns and stepped out of the doorways with their empty hands in clear view, trying hard not to look like any kind of threat. I raised my voice again.

  ‘Principals! This is Ishmael Jones, Head of Security. I want to see all of you out in the corridor, right now!’

  There was a long pause, and finally four of the principals stepped out of their rooms. I recognized January, March, August and December. January was a sharp-faced young woman, March and August middle-aged men, and December the elderly gentleman I’d talked with earlier. They all looked very unhappy at having their precious rest disturbed. I waited a moment, until it was clear no one else was going to show their face, and then I turned to December, as spokesman for the Baphomet Group.

  ‘There is no enemy, and as far as I can tell there never was,’ I said bluntly. ‘Someone tricked your people into shooting at each other.’

  The four principals snapped out a series of orders, and the guards either stood to attention or scrambled to their feet. Clearly wondering how things could have got so out of hand. Some of the guards I’d had to bounce around looked at me reproachfully, as though it was my fault I’d made them look bad.

  ‘All right!’ I said loudly. ‘What happened here? Who started this?’

  The guards looked at each other and then all started to talk, or rather mumble, at once. It quickly became clear none of them were sure about anything. I strode up and down the corridor, firing questions at one guard after another, but most weren’t even clear about the sequence of events. Someone had started firing. Someone had fired back. Someone had shouted that one of the principals had been killed by his own guards. Someone had shouted that terrorists had infiltrated the guards. And after that, everything had gone to hell in a hurry. But no one would admit to having fired the first shot. They had all just … joined in, caught up in the madness of the moment.

  I wondered if there was an agent provocateur among them … Or whether this might be down to the putative double among the principals. But why would anyone want to start a gunfight here? In this kind of shootout, there was no telling who would get hurt. Unless that was the point. Maybe someone wanted to wipe out as many of the guards as possible, to leave the principals more vulnerable. I turned to December.

  ‘Why am I looking at only four principals? Was it not clear that I wanted to see absolutely everyone? Am I going to have to kick in doors and drag the rest of the Group out here?’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ said December. ‘The others … have escorts with them.’

  ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘So you four are … on your own?’

  ‘I am very happily married,’ said December, with great dignity. ‘And my wife would kill me.’

  I looked at August, a grey little man with no discernible personality. He was actually wearing a smoking jacket. I didn’t know anyone still wore those. He shrugged briefly.

  ‘I’ve never really gone in for that sort of thing,’ he said quietly.

  Looking at him, I could quite believe it. The young woman January and the middle-aged man March stood together, staring defiantly back at me. Refusing to say anything. They were both fully dressed, but looking a little flustered. Thinking back, I remembered both of them emerging from the same door. Which meant they’d been in the same room when war broke out. Which was … interesting. I turned back to December.

  ‘Tell your security people to stick to guarding their own particular principals. And not to open fire again unless they’re sure they’ve got a really good reason.’

  The security guards didn’t even wait for orders, just gathered up their guns where necessary and moved quickly to take up positions at the principals’ doors. Trying hard to look trustworthy and professional. A few were still limping. August disappeared into his room, and January and March went back into their shared room. December looked thoughtfully after them, and then nodded briefly to me before returning to his room. I waited till all the guards were properly in place, then strolled unhurriedly back down the corridor and round the corner.

  Penny grabbed hold of me and hugged me to her. I held on tightly, and could feel her heart hammering next to mine. After a while we let go, stepped back, and smiled at each other. And then Penny stabbed me really hard in the chest with her index finger.

  ‘Don’t you ever do that again! You could have been killed.’

  ‘It was a calculated risk,’ I said carefully. ‘I’m really very fast, when I have to be.’

  ‘But you’re not bulletproof, Ishmael. It only needed one of them to get in a lucky shot …’

  ‘But they didn’t,’ I said.

  I honestly didn’t see what she was so upset about, which just seemed to annoy her even more. After a moment she shook her head and deliberately changed the subject. Which was fine by me.

  ‘So!’ she said. ‘No creature, and no killer. What was the point of all that?’

  ‘Something important must have been happening somewhere else, while we were being kept occupied here,’ I said. ‘Whoever’s behind all this is good. And I mean professionally good. He’s always one step ahead.’

  And then I broke off, as my phone rang. I took it out of my pocket and looked at it, letting it ring. Only the Organization had this number, and the Colonel was the only one who ever used it. And he wouldn’t disturb me in the middle of a mission unless it was really important. I put the phone to my ear.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Baron,’ said a confident, slightly amused voice.

  ‘How did you get this number?’ I said.

  ‘You’re not the only one who knows things,’ Baron said smugly. ‘I do get around, you know … Almost as much as you. I have contacts in places you wouldn’t believe.’

  ‘There’s only one way you could have got my number,’ I said. ‘You worked for the Organization, didn’t you?’

  ‘They do make a good haven for when you absolutely have to hide from everyone else in the world.’

  ‘But you’re not with them any more,’ I said. ‘Or the Colonel would have told me about you. So what happened?’

  ‘I found out who they really are,’ said Baron.

  I remembered the traitor Frank Parker saying the same thing to me in his cell at Ringstone Lodge. That if I knew the truth about what the Organization really was, I’d run from them just as he had. Of course, Parker was a traitor. And Baron a troublemaker …

  ‘Who is it?’ Penny asked urgently. ‘Who are you talking to?’

  ‘It’s Baron,’ I said.

  ‘Why isn’t he unconscious?’ said Penny.

  I conceded the point. It was a good question. ‘Why aren’t you unconscious, Baron?’

  ‘Really hard head,’ said Baron. ‘Saved my life on more than one occasion. Look, I’ve been talking with the Major Domo and she says there’s an old, almost forgotten, cellar under Coronach House. It hasn’t been used in centuries, and the only entrance was sealed off so long ago her security people never even bothered investigating it. But now she thinks maybe someone should go down there and take a look.’

  ‘Let me talk to the Major Domo,’ I said.

  ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘She let you go?’

  ‘I was able to reassure her that everything I’d done had been for the good of the House and the Baphomet Group,’ said Baron. ‘She’s not as sentimental as you are, Ishmael. She’ll work with anyone when the job demands it.’

  ‘Where is she right now?’ I said.

  ‘Still trying to talk the servants and chauffeurs into leaving the
dining hall.’

  ‘I thought we’d decided we were better off with all of them in one place, instead of running around complicating things?’

  ‘It seems the Major Domo is taking their mutiny as a personal affront,’ said Baron. ‘With everything that’s going on, she needs to prove she’s still in charge. I think she has trust issues. Anyway, to find the entrance to the cellar you need to go right to the back of the ground floor, past the escorts’ private bar, until you come to the furthest wall in the House. Then look for a stretch of wall that has no framed prints or weapon displays. Which should have been a clue in itself, in a place like this. The entrance to the cellar is concealed in the woodwork, but no doubt you’ll be able to find it.’

  ‘Why me?’ I said. ‘And not you?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Baron. ‘Apparently, the Major Domo doesn’t trust me out of her sight for the moment. She hasn’t exactly put me on a leash, but only because she couldn’t find one.’

  ‘She should have asked the escorts,’ I said.

  ‘I’m just hanging around here until the Major Domo finishes shouting at her people through the closed door. So far it’s all threats and accusations, from both sides. There’ll be tears before bedtime …’

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me in the least,’ I said.

  ‘Anyone, or anything, could be hiding out in the cellar,’ Baron said steadily. ‘According to the Major Domo, there are old family stories concerning a secret exit in the cellar that connects to a tunnel which emerges somewhere in the grounds.’

  ‘And she’s only telling us this now?’ I said.

  ‘To be fair, she has been rather preoccupied,’ said Baron. ‘She did want me to make it very clear, however, that these are all just stories. She’s never been down to the cellar and doesn’t know anyone who has. As far as she knows, no one has tried to unseal the entrance in centuries.’

  ‘But this could explain how the creature, or someone pretending to be the creature, has been getting in and out of the House unobserved,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Baron. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. I think the Major Domo is getting somewhere with her negotiations. Either that, or she’s about to start kicking the door again.’

  The phone went dead and I put it away. I brought Penny up to date, and she bounced up and down excitedly.

  ‘That’s how the creature gets in here from the loch! That’s why the exterior guards keep seeing something that’s always gone when they get there. It explains everything!’

  ‘Possibly,’ I said. ‘I’ve had another thought, a rather disturbing one. We’ve talked before about how the Baphomet Group might have been named after the demon or powerful being worshipped by the old Knights Templar. And how this Baphomet might have made a deal with the founding members of the Group. Power and wealth in return for some kind of service. If this Baphomet is still alive and linked to the current members of the Group, what if they bring it with them to their annual meetings? Because the point of each meeting is for the principals to rededicate themselves to the deal their ancestors made?’

  ‘OK,’ said Penny. ‘You’re right, that is a disturbing thought. But then why would the Group go to so much trouble to hold their meetings in different parts of the world? Given all the complications involved in transferring Baphomet from country to country …’

  ‘Money can solve most problems,’ I said. ‘And enough money can make problems disappear. I’ve been wondering if Baphomet itself decides where the meetings should take place, for reasons of its own.’

  ‘You’ve clearly been thinking about this a lot,’ said Penny. Her eyes widened suddenly. ‘What if the price for its gifts or services … is human sacrifice? And that’s why they have to keep changing the meeting place, so no one will make the connection about the deaths that always accompany it! Do you suppose the Organization knew all this? And that’s why they wanted you here?’

  ‘Who knows what the Organization knows?’ I said. ‘The Colonel only tells me what they tell him, and they only tell him what they think he needs to know. But if the Group have brought Baphomet here with them, what better hiding place than the cellar?’

  ‘Hold it!’ said Penny. ‘We’re missing something. October’s death. Why would Baphomet kill one of its own?’

  ‘Maybe October tried to get out of the deal,’ I said. ‘Of course, another way to look at this would be that everyone in Coronach House is a potential sacrificial victim …’

  Penny gave me a hard look. ‘None of this is convincing me that we should go down into the cellar to confront a very old, very powerful and possibly very pissed-off demon-god thing.’

  ‘Who else could we trust to do this?’ I said. ‘Ready?’

  ‘After you,’ said Penny.

  We went back down the stairs in a rather more stately fashion than we’d come up. Taking our time for the sake of our dignity, not because we might in any way be having second thoughts about the wisdom of confronting an angry god thing in its lair. Penny grumbled under her breath.

  ‘Far too many stairs in this case …’

  When we finally reached the reception area, it was utterly deserted. A thought struck me, and I went over to the front door and checked it was properly locked. Just because people say a thing is locked doesn’t mean it necessarily is. But the door was secure. I rattled it a few times, just to be sure, and nodded approvingly at its weight and sturdiness. A door as heavy as that would take a lot of getting through.

  ‘Could you smash through a door like that?’ said Penny. ‘I mean, if you had to?’

  ‘Probably,’ I said. ‘If I really had to. Let’s hope there’s nothing in the House that’s as strong as me.’

  I followed Baron’s directions to the rear of the House, and Penny tripped along at my side, humming tunelessly under her breath. A sure sign that she wasn’t as calm and composed as she appeared. When we reached the door to the escorts’ private bar, it was standing ajar. I looked inside, but the bar was empty. Presumably they were all working. After the armed commotion with the guards, the principals probably needed a lot of comforting. A few more empty corridors brought us to the furthest wall of the House, and it didn’t take long to locate the blank expanse of richly polished wood panelling. There were lots of panels within panels and detailed carvings, any of which could have concealed a secret entrance or a hidden lock mechanism. Penny beamed happily.

  ‘I always say it isn’t a proper old-house mystery unless there are hidden doors and secret passageways,’ she proclaimed. ‘I think it’s a rule, or an old tradition or something. And if it isn’t, it ought to be.’

  We walked up and down the long stretch of wall, leaning in close to examine the wooden panels, tapping here and there and testing for concealed entrance points. But there were no hollow sounds, and not a single ornament or wooden carving moved under our hands. In the end I spotted the cellar door concealed in the lines of the panelling, simply because it wasn’t quite as well constructed as the rest. I pointed out the entrance to Penny, but she still couldn’t see it.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she said finally. ‘How do we open the damn thing?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But it’s been opened recently.’

  She looked at the wall, and then at me. ‘You can see that?’

  ‘Only just,’ I said kindly.

  We both spent some time searching for an opening mechanism, but couldn’t find one anywhere. We stood back and looked at the wall some more.

  ‘Maybe it only opens from the inside,’ I said.

  ‘You’re full of disturbing thoughts today, aren’t you?’ said Penny. ‘Maybe we should go find the Major Domo and see if she knows any old stories about how you open the bloody thing?’

  ‘Would take too long,’ I said. ‘I can open this.’

  I punched the concealed door, and the heavy wood split from top to bottom. I hit it again and again, the wooden panel jumping and shuddering under the repeated impacts, until finally it just fell apart. I gr
abbed hold of the broken pieces and pulled them away, watching out carefully for splinters, until a large dark opening yawned in the wall. Just a bit ominously. I blew casually on my knuckles, to make it clear they weren’t bruised or scraped, but Penny didn’t even glance in my direction.

  ‘Show off!’ she said, studying the opening thoughtfully.

  I huddled beside her and peered into the darkness. A set of very old, very rough stone steps fell away, descending into the dark further than even my eyes could follow. No railing, and no banisters. I put my hands on both sides of the opening to steady myself and leaned in as far as I could. Penny grabbed hold of the back of my belt, just to be on the safe side.

  ‘Can you see anything, Ishmael?’

  ‘No …’ I sniffed cautiously. ‘The air smells stale, dusty … And I’m getting traces of something else. Something I don’t recognize.’

  ‘Something alive?’ Penny asked tentatively.

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said.

  I stepped back from the opening. Penny let go of my belt and looked dubiously at the steps leading down into the dark.

  ‘I am not going down there without a light of some kind,’ she said, very firmly.

  I produced a penlight from my inside jacket pocket. When I turned it on, the beam was surprisingly bright. It didn’t travel far down the steps, but at least it was a light.

  ‘This suit came with all kinds of useful items stored in the pockets,’ I said. ‘Let us praise the Organization and its generosity.’

  ‘What else did they give you?’ asked Penny, practical as always.

  ‘Later,’ I said.

  ‘Before we start down those steps, descending blindly into God knows what, shouldn’t we contact the Major Domo?’ said Penny. ‘To tell her we’ve found the entrance and where we’re going, so she can send in a search party or a heavily armed rescue force if we don’t come back.’

  ‘Baron knows,’ I said. ‘He’ll tell her. You’re just putting this off.’

  ‘Well, yes!’ said Penny. ‘Come on, there could be anything down there!’

 

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