Ghost of a Smile g-2

by Simon R. Green

  The old man stopped abruptly. The girl stopped with him and looked quickly about her. The old man held up both hands before speaking in a firm, rich, and carrying voice.

  “Is there anybody here? Be not afraid, be not alarmed. We have come to talk with any who might remain here and to offer any help or aid that might be required. Please, come forward and talk with us. We are not afraid. We are friends.”

  “Bloody cold in here, Gramps,” said the girl. “Cold and dark and a complete lack of comforts. Like most of the places you drag me to. Just once, couldn’t we go ghost-hunting in a first-class hotel, or a nice pub, or a decent restaurant?”

  “Quiet, child! Show respect for the spirits!”

  “I am not your child, I am your grand-daughter, and I’m sure this is bad for me. I’ll bet there’s mould here, and all kinds of spores, waiting to be breathed in so they can break-dance in my lungs. You’re not going to find any ghosts here, Gramps. For one thing, this place isn’t old enough.”

  “Hold your peace, child,” said the old man. “You only show your ignorance. Spirits accumulate in the dark places of the world, and this has been a bad place for many years. Have I not told you the old stories…”

  “Yes, Gramps. Many times. But they’re only stories. Something for old men to tell, when they’re losing at dominoes and want to distract their opponents.”

  “Stories have power, child. In many ways. Trust me when I tell you, the past does not lie easily here…”

  “Well,” said JC. “Never let it be said that I don’t know a cue when I hear one.”

  He stepped briskly forward, and waved cheerfully to the startled old man and the girl at his side. “Hello, hello! Welcome to the dark and spooky and almost certainly haunted abandoned factory! Guided tours a speciality! Psychic phenomena guaranteed or your money back. I am JC Chance, of the Carnacki Institute for Finding Ghosts and Doing Something About Them. May I ask whom have I the honour of addressing?”

  The teenage girl had actually jumped a little when he appeared, but the old man was made of sterner stuff. He stood his ground and held his lantern a little higher to spread more light. He looked suspiciously at JC, and Happy and Melody behind him. Kim remained in the shadows, being diplomatic.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” said the teenage girl, moving quickly forward to put herself between her grandfather and JC.

  “I’m JC,” JC said patiently. “And these are my colleagues in spiritual affairs, Happy Palmer and Melody Chambers. Don’t let them worry you, they’re supposed to look like that. It helps scare the spooks. We are here to investigate the unnatural phenomena surrounding the recent death of Albert Winter. Might I inquire what you’re doing here?”

  “Don’t tell them anything, Gramps!” snapped the girl, matching Happy scowl for scowl. “We’re not obliged to tell them anything. We don’t have to justify ourselves. We’ve got as much right to be here as anyone!”

  “Mind your manners, child,” said the old man, stepping past her to nod politely to JC and his team. “You were brought up to behave better than that. I am Graham Tiley, Mr. Chance. This is my grand-daughter, Susan. We are here to make contact with the spirits.”

  “You’ve seen something?” said Melody. “What have you seen?”

  “We haven’t seen anything!” said Susan, still glowering at one and all. “But we’re… interested. There have always been stories about this place, and Gramps lives for all that supernatural stuff, so when the murder happened, there was no keeping him out of here. We haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “Never said you had,” murmured JC. “Let us all put our claws away and play nicely. I think we’re all on the same side here. Mister Tiley, would I be right in thinking that you have some personal connection to this place? Something that makes it important to you? You do seem to know your way around…”

  “I used to work here, long ago,” said Tiley. “Haven’t been back through those doors in twenty-five years and more. Not since the whole place was closed down, and I was laid off. Along with everyone else. Terrible day. All of us made redundant, just like that, after all the years we gave to the company. Can’t say I was ever happy here; it was hard, repetitive work, and nothing much to show for it. But, the more I look back, the more I miss it. Not the work so much as the security. All the familiar faces, and the regular routines, knowing where you were going to be and what you were going to be doing, at every given moment of the day… There’s security in that, and reassurance. I suppose you never know what you really value until someone takes it away from you.” He stopped, and looked at JC. “I don’t usually open up like that to someone I’ve only met. There’s something about you…”

  “People always find it easy to talk to me,” said JC. “I’m a good listener. That had better not be sniggering I hear behind me…”

  “You had other jobs, Gramps,” said Susan. “Some of them a lot better paying.”

  “But they were just jobs,” said the old man. “Something to do, in the time that was left to me. Something to keep me busy till the pension kicked in. And they did mean I didn’t have to spend so much time with your grandmother. A wonderful woman, my Lily, but best appreciated in small doses… She did so love to talk. She was very good at being reasonable, in a very wearing way… Where was I? Oh yes. This was the first job I had as a teenager, and I gave this factory the best years of my life. I saw more of this place than I did of my own children.”

  “They understood,” said Susan.

  “Did they?” said Graham. “I’m not sure I ever did. Now my Lily’s gone, and both your parents work all the hours God sends…”

  “You’ve got me, Gramps.”

  “Yes,” Graham said fondly. “I’ve got you, child.”

  Susan looked at JC challengingly. “Is that your high tech piled up there? I know state-of-the-art shit when I see it. You really think you can measure ghosts, weigh ghosts, pin them down, and open them up?”

  “Sometimes,” said Melody.

  Susan glared at her. “Who did you say you work for?”

  “We’re official,” said JC. “I’d leave it at that if I were you.”

  “This is our haunting!” Susan said stubbornly. “We were here first!”

  “You can’t stake a claim on a spirit, child,” said Graham. “We heard things, Mr. Chance. People tell stories… and I heard more than enough to convince me there was something out here worth investigating. We might only be amateur ghost hunters, but I do have experience in this field. I am here to offer help and guidance to any lost spirits who might be… held here, for any reason. Help them realise that they’re dead, but there is a better place waiting for them. Show them the peace and the protection of the Clear White Light.”

  “Amateur night,” growled Melody. “All we need.”

  “Quiet at the back,” said JC. “But the rude lady does have a point, I’m afraid, Mr. Tiley. It really isn’t safe here. You should leave.”

  “Young man,” Graham said sternly, “I have cleared seventeen unhappy places and left them calm and peaceful, untroubled by any unquiet spirit. I know what I’m doing. I intend to make contact with whatever troubled soul resides here. You are welcome to stay and help if you wish.”

  “Help, not interfere,” said Susan. “No-one messes with my gramps, not while I’m around.”

  “And what is it you intend to do?” said JC. “I’d really like to know.”

  Tiley glared at him suspiciously, not entirely sure he was being taken seriously. “I have my own tried and trusted methods. I shall be about them. You and your colleagues can do as you please!”

  And he stomped off into the dark interior of the factory, holding his storm lantern out before him, a pool of golden light advancing into the darkness. Susan looked after him, not sure whether he wanted her company. She scowled at JC.

  “Official… What kind of official? You’re not the police.”

  “Heaven forfend,” said JC. “Let’s just say we’re professionals. We have a
lot of experience in this field, enough to know that what’s happening here isn’t an ordinary haunting. Albert Winter didn’t just happen to die in this place. Something lured him in here, then took its own sweet time killing him. And whatever did that is still here.”

  Susan shuddered suddenly, despite herself. She could hear the truth in JC’s calm voice. She looked over at her grandfather. “Gramps took up ghost-hunting as a hobby when he retired. Something to keep him occupied… But after Grandma Lily died last year, he’s been taking it all a lot more seriously.”

  “Am I to take it that you’re not a believer?” said JC.

  Susan snorted loudly, looking him over scornfully. “Of course not! I’m here to keep him company and see he doesn’t get into any trouble. I’ve watched his back on a dozen cleansings and never seen or heard a thing. It’s all empty rooms, shadows in the corners, and plumbing rattling in the walls. You know a lot about the killing; you sure you’re not some kind of police?”

  “How can I be sure, let me count the ways,” murmured JC. “Trust me, Susan, there isn’t a branch of the police that would accept any of us on a bet. Except perhaps as Bad Examples. But there was a murder here, and we are looking into it. We are concerned as to how it may have happened.”

  They all looked round as Graham Tiley came striding back, his footsteps echoing in the quiet. He stopped right before JC and looked at him sternly.

  “I’ve had a look at your machines. Machines won’t help you with the spirit world. Nor will official attitudes. It’s all about prayer and belief and compassion. Spirits who are having trouble passing on respond best to the personal touch. Human contact, kindness, sympathy, positive attitudes. I’m here to talk and to listen, and to help if I can.”

  “An entirely worthy intention,” said JC, getting in quickly before Melody could stop sputtering long enough to say something unhelpful. “Unfortunately… not all ghosts want peace. Some have to be pacified.”

  Suddenly, without any warning, the whole building was shaking with the deafening sounds of machines working filling the air. Huge machines slamming and grinding, overpowering. The floor vibrated heavily, shaking everyone with the brutal power and motion of unseen machinery. They all put their hands to their ears, but it wasn’t the kind of sound they could keep out. The roar of the machines filled the whole factory floor, filled their heads, and rattled their bones. Susan grabbed onto her grandfather’s arm with both hands, to hold him steady. They all looked around them, Tiley waving his lantern with a shaking hand; but there was nothing to see anywhere.

  “I know this noise!” said Tiley, leaning in close and shouting to be heard over the din. “Though I haven’t heard it in years. This is what it sounded like on the factory floor, when all the machines were working at once. It made me deaf for a week when I first started! No ear protectors in my day… But they pulled all the machines out of here when they shut the place down!”

  The sound stopped abruptly, and Tiley shouted his last few words into an echoing silence. The air was still, the building was steady, and the floor was calm and certain again, as though nothing had happened. But there was still something… in the dark, out beyond the light.

  “Can you feel that?” said Happy, stepping forward reluctantly. “There’s a definite presence here…”

  “Of course there is!” snapped Tiley. “And you and your young friends have upset it, with your modern scientific attitudes! You people need to get out of here. You’re making things worse. Leave me to get on with my work.”

  “We can’t do that,” said JC.

  “Why not?” said Susan. “Who are you, really? And don’t give me that professionals bullshit. Who wears sunglasses at night, in a deserted building? You’re not from any of the official ghost-hunting groups, like FOG and PIS.”

  “Fog and what?” said Happy.

  “Friends of Ghosts, and Paranormal Investigation Society,” said Tiley. He stabbed an accusing finger at JC. “You’re journalists, aren’t you? Bloody tabloids!”

  “No,” said JC. “We’re really not interested in publicity. The horror of ghosts, for most people, is that they’re beyond all the usual methods of control. People feel helpless before them, terrified by the unknown, not knowing how to cope. But we are from the Carnacki Institute, and we know what to do with ghosts.”

  “Like what?” said Tiley.

  “Whatever’s necessary,” said JC.

  Again, there was something in his voice that seemed to reach the old man and calm him down. JC gave him his full attention.

  “What was it like, Mr. Tiley, working here, back in the day? Was it a bad place, back then?”

  “Not really,” said Tiley. “Hard work, but steady. Regular work that you could rely on, year in and year out. And that meant a lot, back when I was a young man. I spent most of my working life here, man and boy.”

  “I don’t know how you can be sentimental about it, Gramps,” said Susan.

  “It was work you could depend on,” Tiley repeated. “And we were all grateful. Nothing much to show for it, mind. We just made parts, for other machines. We never made anything complete.”

  “Ah, interesting,” said JC. “No sense of closure. Could be significant.”

  He walked slowly out across the great expanse of open space, head cocked to one side, as though listening. “Huge machines, heavy machinery, working endlessly, doing the same things over and over, tended by people doing the same things, over and over. For decades.. . A ritual, impressing itself on Time and Space, digging psychic grooves into the surroundings…”

  “Hold on,” said Melody. “Are you suggesting that this place is haunted by the ghosts of heavy machinery?”

  “Think about it,” said Happy. “If a man were to walk through the space where the machines manifested… they’d tear him apart.” And then he stopped and shook his head slowly.

  “No. Sorry, JC, but very definitely no. I told you, I sensed emotions-raw and harsh and wild.”

  “You’re all talking nonsense,” Tiley said firmly. “Ghosts are the restless spirits of departed people. That’s it. I’ve read all the books, and I believe what’s needed here is a lay exorcism.”

  “Not a bad idea,” said JC, walking back to join the others. “But first, I think we should hold a seance. Summon up all the players, so to speak, so we can get a good look at them. Get some idea of what this is all about. I’ll say it again. Albert Winter didn’t just die here. There was more to it than that. There was purpose, and intent, to his death.”

  “We don’t have a medium,” said Tiley, concentrating on the one thing that made sense to him.

  “Actually we do,” said JC. “A medium is a link between the worlds of the living and the dead. And there is one member of my little team who fits the bill perfectly. Kim, dear, come forward and make yourself known, would you?”

  Kim came floating out of the shadows, smiling brightly, only hovering an inch or so above the dusty floor. She allowed herself to become semi-transparent, to make it clear what she was. Graham Tiley and his grand-daughter stared at her with open mouths. Susan actually fell back a step, and Tiley had to grab her to steady her. They huddled close together, for mutual support. Kim stopped a tactful distance away and gave them both her most charming smile.

  “Hi,” she said. “My name is Kim, and I’m a ghost. Please. Don’t be afraid. I don’t bite. I’m part of the team.”

  Of the two, Graham Tiley seemed the most affected. He breathed heavily, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Kim. He looked like he would have turned and run if Susan hadn’t been holding on to him. He finally closed his mouth with a snap, swallowed hard, and nodded slowly to Kim.

  “Dear God… All these years, looking for ghosts and spirits, for some actual sign that the soul survives… but I never saw anything. Not even sure I really believed, deep down… But here you are. I was right all along. You’re a ghost. I can tell, I can feel it… Oh my dear, are you trapped here? Is something holding you to this world?”

  “Y
es,” Kim said happily. “JC, my love, my very dear. Isn’t he wonderful?”

  “Get away from her, Gramps,” whispered Susan. “Don’t talk to her. She can’t… She can’t be…”

  “I’m not worthy of her,” said JC. “But believe me when I tell you, no-one is holding Kim anywhere against her wishes.”

  “Like to see anybody try,” said Kim.

  “How did you… die?” said Susan.

  “I was murdered,” said Kim. “But JC avenged me.”

  “You never believed,” Graham Tiley said to Susan, a slow smile coming to his lips. “Don’t worry; I always knew you were here to keep me company. So, a real live… real dead ghost. Right before us. What do you think of your old gramps now, eh, Susan? Not so daft in the head after all?”

  “We should get out of here,” said Susan. “We shouldn’t be here. This isn’t right! It isn’t natural!”

  “It’s only a ghost!” said Tiley. “A person, with the body removed. Get a grip on yourself, child, and stop embarrassing me. Talk nicely to the young lady ghost. She looks to be about your age.”

  “What do you say to a ghost?” demanded Susan. “Hi, nice to meet you, how’s your ectoplasm? Give me a break, Gramps, my whole world has just been turned upside down and inside out, and the pieces have fallen all over the carpet. You talk to her. I’m going to find a corner and mumble quietly to myself.”

  “Youngsters today,” said Tiley. “No stamina.” He smiled at Kim. “It is nice to meet you, young lady. Are you sure there’s nothing keeping you from passing on? I’d be happy to help…”

  “The only thing keeping me here is my JC,” said Kim. “And I wouldn’t be parted from him for all the worlds that may be. I had to die to find true love, and I won’t give it up now.”

  “Well, well,” said Tiley. “My first real encounter with a spirit. Not at all what I’d expected, but still, most exhilarating! Pardon me for asking, my dear, but if you’re a ghost, why can’t you speak to whatever ghosts might be haunting this place?”

  “Doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid,” said Kim. “There are all kinds of ghosts, and all kinds of hauntings.”