by Darren Shan
‘You’re lying. You want to torment me. You’re saying this to . . . ’
‘What?’ Gardiner jeers.
‘ . . . confuse me,’ I finish lamely.
‘Why should I?’ he retorts.
‘To throw me off the scent. To stop me . . . ’ I run out of ideas.
‘If I wanted to stop you, I’d have killed you. Even a lovesick lunatic like you must be able to see that. Right now, I’m the one person in the world you can trust, because I in no way stand to benefit from lying to you.’
He’s telling the truth. It would be easier if he wasn’t, if this was part of some scam to sidetrack me, but it would have been far more straightforward for him to shoot me than set me free and lie to me. The guard was Axel Nelke. Andeanna lied about him.
What else wasn’t true?
‘Did the Turk kill her?’ I croak. Gardiner doesn’t answer. He seems focused on the matches. ‘Did he!’ I shout.
‘Do you have an address for Etienne Anders?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I reply, befuddled.
‘I want it.’
‘What does she have to do with –’
‘You were set up!’ he barks. ‘There was no ghost. I doubt if Anders was behind the scam, but she’s part of it. If I find her, I might be able to wring the truth out of the bitch.’
‘But Anders was only a channeller. Andeanna spoke through her.’
Gardiner slaps me. When I stare at him numbly, he slaps me again, then grabs my neck and pulls my face in close to his. ‘Can’t you get it straight, you fucking moron? There. Was. No. Ghost. It was a con job. Someone dressed up as Andeanna and tricked you into killing Mikis, then hired a clever psychic to make you believe she was a spirit.’
‘No,’ I moan, pulling away. The matches drop. He bends to pick them up. I use the few seconds to think of something to prove I’m not a patsy. ‘Greygo,’ I gasp. ‘He saw the ghost too. He’d been to see Anders as well.’
Gardiner’s expression softens. ‘Poor Greygo. He was so anxious to learn about her, always asking questions, wanting to know. He must have been an easy mark.’
‘What do you mean?’
Gardiner plucks loose a match, lights it, watches the flame flicker down, then blows it out. ‘Greygo has an active imagination,’ he says through the thin stream of smoke. ‘Mikis used to say he was away with the fairies. Whoever manipulated you got to Greygo beforehand. I don’t know how they did it, but if they fooled someone like you, it can’t have been that hard to mesmerize a mixed-up kid.’
‘No. You’re wrong.’
‘Think about it, Brad. Greygo went –’
‘Ed,’ I interrupt. ‘My name’s Ed.’
‘Whatever. Greygo went to lots of mediums. He missed his mother, and nothing we told him about her was enough. He always wanted more. Of all those psychics, only one could put him in touch with his mother? Only one could succeed where the others failed?’
‘Logic doesn’t work with ghosts. Sometimes shades can only speak through –’
‘Can it,’ he snaps. ‘You were conned. So was Greygo. If you can’t see that, you’re dumber than I thought, and maybe I should finish you off and leave you here with those two.’ He jerks an angry thumb at the corpses behind us.
‘Why haven’t you killed me?’ I ask, curious in spite of everything.
‘Too complicated. The police won’t believe that Langbein and Dash wiped each other out, but they’ll accept it because they’ll be glad to be rid of the pair. But if I throw in a third body, they won’t be able to explain it away, so they’ll have to investigate for real.’
I think about that, then shake my head. ‘I don’t buy it. You could have dumped me in the trunk and killed me elsewhere.’
‘Now you tell me,’ he chuckles, pretending to groan, hoping I’ll drop it.
‘Why spare me?’ I press. ‘Why tell me about Nelke? I’ve admitted to killing the Turk. Why aren’t you carving your revenge out of my flesh?’
‘Because you weren’t to blame. You were a tool in some cunning fucker’s hand. When I find him, I’ll do plenty of carving, but I don’t shoot messenger boys.’
It’s a plausible excuse. Another time I might believe him. But Gardiner has been visibly shaken, and I can see through him as clearly as I can see Sebastian Dash’s bloody remains through the windows of the car.
‘The truth, Bond,’ I say softly. ‘Let’s not bother with lies any more. There’s no place for them here. Tell me why you spared me.’
Gardiner stares at the matches, runs a finger over them, speaks without looking up. ‘Because I took pity on you.’
I almost laugh. It’s his most pathetic lie yet. I open my mouth to berate him, then close it slowly, not having said a word. Because it isn’t a lie.
‘Why, for God’s sake?’ I mutter.
‘Not for God’s sake,’ he says. ‘For Andeanna’s.’ He lifts his head, and his eyes are hard but soft at the same time. ‘You shocked me in the pub when you turned up with talk of Andeanna having a lover. Since you knew so much, I fed you a half-true story, hoping that would satisfy you. If I’d known who you really were . . . ’ He steels himself and says, ‘Andeanna had a lover, but Mikis never knew.’
My eyes narrow. As bewildered as I am, I understand what Gardiner is saying. ‘It was you,’ I whisper.
He nods with ferocious sharpness. ‘That’s why you’re alive. Because I see the love I felt for her mirrored in your eyes. And although it wasn’t the real Andeanna you fell in love with, you thought it was and you were prepared to sacrifice everything for her. I respect that. You killed Mikis and Axel, so I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.’
‘Christ,’ I groan. ‘Mary fucking Mother of God.’
‘Don’t blaspheme,’ he scolds me.
‘It was all bullshit,’ I mumble. ‘The Turk didn’t know about her affair.’
‘No.’
‘He didn’t kill her.’
‘No.’
‘I thought . . . even when I was convinced that she wasn’t a ghost, when I assumed I’d been set up . . . I thought only a vengeful lover or relative would go to such twisted lengths to kill a man.’
Gardiner grunts. ‘I was closer to Mikis than anyone else on this shitball of a planet. Even if he’d murdered Andeanna, I couldn’t have retaliated. I could have hated him, but I couldn’t have killed him or allowed someone else to.’
‘This is crazy. Why would she lie to me? What does a ghost stand to gain by lying?’
‘For fuck’s sake!’ Gardiner roars. ‘When will you get it through your thick fucking skull? She wasn’t a ghost. You were conned.’
‘No,’ I disagree. ‘You weren’t there. You didn’t hear the way Anders spoke, the way her face changed shape to become Andeanna’s. It wasn’t a charade. It was really her.’
‘You never met the real Andeanna!’ he howls. ‘Don’t you get it? The woman who seduced you was an impostor. You have no idea how Andeanna talked or how her lips lifted when she was happy or how her nose twitched when she was mad. You know nothing about her.’
‘You’re wrong,’ I defy him. ‘It was Andeanna. She knew too much not to be. She had access to the mansion. She was there when I killed Nelke and the Turk. She knew about the affair and the story you told me about her husband killing her.’
‘Anders could have learnt most of that from Greygo,’ he says.
‘Did Greygo know about the affair?’ I challenge him.
‘Well, no, I don’t think so, but –’
‘But nothing. The ghost knew that Andeanna had been unfaithful. She didn’t reveal her lover’s real name, but that’s because she wanted to protect you, like you’d protected her.’
‘No,’ he growls. ‘She wasn’t a ghost.’
‘She was!’ I yell, going face to face with him. He’s a head taller and outweighs me by thirty pounds, but I don’t care. I could take on the devil himself, the mood I’m in. ‘Stop denying it. It doesn’t make sense any other way. She was a ghost.’
>
‘An impostor,’ he mumbles, taking a step backwards.
‘A ghost.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Why?’ I follow him as he retreats. ‘Why are you so set against the idea? Because you don’t believe in ghosts?’
‘It’s not that.’
‘Then what?’ He doesn’t answer. ‘What?’
Gardiner stops backpedalling and lets me run into him. ‘It can’t have been a ghost,’ he says flatly, then puts his lips to my ear and hits me with a thunderbolt that sets me adrift once again on the seas of bewildered madness. ‘It can’t have been a ghost because Andeanna isn’t dead.’
TWENTY
St Michael’s Psychiatric Hospital lies close to Darlington, in the north-east of the country, not far from Joe’s native Newcastle. I toy with the idea of inviting Joe along for the journey – he knows the area and could serve as a guide – but that would mean telling him the truth, and I don’t want to do that, not until I’ve confirmed it.
Gardiner walked me from the glade when he was finished talking. He made a phone call, gave our position, then sat with me on a stone wall to wait. We said little. When the car arrived, the driver gazed curiously at me but didn’t ask who I was. Gardiner told him to find a town with a train station, where he left me to make my own way north. ‘Remember,’ he said in parting, ‘you don’t tell anyone and you never come back. This is my riddle now. I’ll let people think Dash killed Mikis, but I know the truth and I won’t forget. If you show your face in London again, you’re dead.’
It wasn’t an idle threat, but I can’t let the matter drop. If my investigation draws me back to the Big Smoke, I’ll take my chances where Bond Gardiner’s concerned.
I bought a ticket at the station, found a quiet carriage when the train pulled in and settled back to brood. That’s where I am now, watching the countryside whip by, trying to make sense of what I was told. Gardiner promised to call ahead to the hospital and clear my visit, but even if he didn’t, they won’t be able to keep me out. Nothing will bar my way. I have to see. I have to know.
Gardiner released me after dropping his bombshell. He stepped aside, a look of shame contorting his features. By that shame, I knew he wasn’t lying.
‘She isn’t dead?’ I croaked when I was able to make more than a thin gasping cry. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
He didn’t reply straight away. He was disgusted with himself for revealing the truth. He waved me away, and although I wanted to grab him by the throat and choke answers out of him, I said nothing while he took deep breaths and sought control. Finally he calmed down enough to continue, but he couldn’t get through the story without mauling his book of matches until it was pulp in his hands.
‘There should never have been anything between Andeanna and me,’ he began. ‘The attraction was there a long time, but we were loyal to Mikis and knew the dangers of betraying him. For years we resisted. We spent a lot of time alone – Mikis trusted me with her – but we never acted on our feelings. Until . . .
‘She made the first move. We were watching TV one night. Without warning, she leant over and kissed me. I should have pulled away, but I just sat there, stunned. She took off her blouse and . . . ’ He blushed. ‘We needn’t relive all the details. We did what we shouldn’t have, regretted it the next morning, swore never to do it again.’
‘But you did,’ I interjected quietly.
His blush deepened. ‘Yeah. We planned our encounters carefully, usually when Mikis was out of the country and we had the house to ourselves. A few other times we met when Andeanna was visiting her parents. We took no chances. I think we could have carried on indefinitely if . . . ’ He faltered to a stop.
‘If the Turk hadn’t found out?’ I said, to get him going again.
He shook his head. ‘Mikis never knew. You think I’d be alive if he’d rumbled us? Our friendship wouldn’t have mattered. He’d have killed me.’
‘So what happened?’ I asked.
‘Madness,’ he said, and stirred uncomfortably.
I stir uncomfortably on the train as I recall this part of the conversation and think about my destination. I’ve only been to an institute for the clinically insane once before, researching for Soul Vultures. It was a depressing experience. On the back of that visit, I cut out the scenes that were going to be set in an asylum. I wish I could cut out the forthcoming scenes as easily.
‘I only realized later that our affair was a by-product of Andeanna’s breakdown,’ Gardiner told me dully. ‘She was strong, not afraid of anything, but Mikis slowly crushed her. He loved her, but he was callous. He was a man of violence, the same as you and me. He let the brutality of his work spill over into his private life. He mellowed in the latter years of their marriage and tried to make amends – that’s why she was allowed to visit her parents – but it was too late. Later than any of us imagined.
‘You know Mikis cheated on her. Andeanna knew too. She never said anything, but she knew.’
‘What does that have to do with –’ I began to ask.
‘Her name was Christina Whiteoak, wife of Arnold. Know him?’ I shook my head, bewildered. ‘Arnold Whiteoak was a munitions baron, a total mercenary. He didn’t care who he sold to. That’s what did for him in the end — he spent so long playing one group off against the other that eventually . . .
‘But this isn’t about him. It’s about his beautiful wife, Christina. She had an affair with Mikis. It was the only time he let his lust get in the way of business. Arnold Whiteoak was a shark, far more powerful than Mikis. If he’d found out, he would have washed the streets with their blood, and Mikis knew it. But he couldn’t stop.
‘Mikis and Andeanna were due to spend Christmas and New Year in Scotland. They’d been a couple of times before. Mikis loved the kilts, the bagpipes and the rivers of whisky. He used to say he was a Celt at heart. That year he made an excuse to return from the festivities early. Stayed for Christmas dinner, then tore down to London. Told Andeanna he had urgent business to attend to. That shouldn’t have surprised her – he often cut holidays short – but this time she was suspicious. She followed him.
‘She hit London on the twenty-seventh without telling anybody. Caught a train, then got a cab home from the station. She must have guessed what Mikis was up to, but whether she went in there intending to do what she did, or if it was a spur-of-the-moment reaction, I don’t know. I doubt she knew herself.’
It’s late when I reach Darlington. Dark, wet, miserable. As I step down from the train, my eight ghosts – a seething Mikis Menderes joined the parade while I was en route – drift out along the platform in a crescent and smile at me smugly, a cool welcoming committee. I’m back to not being sure if they’re real or figments of my imagination. I could do without that distraction at the moment – I’m tense enough – but since I can’t disperse or claim to understand the shades, I jam my head down and push through, doing my best to ignore them, looking for the taxi rank.
The hospital isn’t what I was expecting. A modern building backing on to an industrial estate, no signs out front to reveal its true purpose apart from a small plaque over the door and an ambulance parked in the drive.
‘You want me to stick around to take you back?’ the driver asks as I step out.
‘I’m not sure,’ I mumble.
‘I’m only saying ’cos it might take a while to get a lad out here this late. It’ll cost you a fair bit if I wait, but if I don’t, you might be stuck here longer than you’d like.’
I shove a handful of notes into his eager fist. ‘Is that enough?’
‘Oh, aye,’ he says. ‘That’ll keep me till morning if necessary.’
I walk to the door, stare nervously at the buzzer, then press it. Moments later I’m stepping inside to face the living ghost of an undead past.
‘It took her a while to find them.’ Gardiner’s face was dark as death, defying the glittering beams of the early-morning sun. ‘They were in one of the spare bedrooms. Mikis
told me, years later, that every door on the landing had been opened. She must have gone from room to room, opening the doors, checking, not closing them, moving on.
‘We never found out where she got the knife. Maybe she bought it on the way home, or lugged it down from Scotland. I often imagine her sitting on that train with a bag on her lap, the knife inside, hand in the bag, clutching the handle, focused on what she was going to do. Her right hand was all cut up. She’d been gripping the blade, either on the journey or while she stalked the halls. I don’t think she felt the pain. The madness would have numbed her to it.’
He stopped, and his fingers squeezed around the remains of the book of matches. I could guess what was coming and was almost as apprehensive as Gardiner.
‘She found them in the end. Mikis felt a draught when the door opened, but he took no notice. He thought he’d forgotten to shut it properly. That was almost ten minutes before she screamed, so she must have been standing there all that time, watching, listening, grasping the knife.’
I wanted him to stop. Despite having forced the issue, risked my life, killed or been instrumental in the murder of four people, I wanted him to leave the story unfinished. I almost asked him to stop but my lips wouldn’t form the words.
‘Mikis got drunk a couple of years ago and told me that her scream was the most chilling thing he’d ever heard. He said it was like the whistle of a steam engine, only filled with hate. He was crying. Said it was a sound he’d never been able to block out. It echoed in his ears still, often driving him to the verge of suicide. If not for Greygo, he would have topped himself years ago.
‘Christina was on top at the time – another detail Mikis only revealed long after the event – and she spun around when she heard the scream. She saw Andeanna framed in the doorway, one hand held to her head, the other hidden by her side. For a moment Christina stared at her, bewildered. Then she laughed.’
