by Mike Crowson
N'Dibe smiled benignly and, perhaps, a touch complacently. Although he was quite a big man, he was not noticeably overweight nor was he a big eater. However he did seem to have a fondness for ice cream. He ordered an especially large one with chocolate syrup and cream. Millicent thought it looked rather sickly, but N'Dibe finished it with an obvious relish and pushed the dish away with a sigh of contentment. He wiped his mouth almost daintily with a napkin and pulled his coffee towards him. He must, Millicent thought, be approaching sixty if he had not already reached it. He took a sip of coffee and continued as if he had not paused for the ice cream.
"At our public meetings we have a range of speakers and discussion topics intended to attract as wide an audience as possible. From those attending the open meetings we can select those we invite to join the inner circle."
"Select?"
"It would hardly be appropriate to work at close quarters with others about whom you entertain unease or doubts."
"That cuts both ways, surely," Millicent objected.
"Of course it does," N'Dibe agreed, smiling again. "We meet people. We decide whether they would fit in and whether we would enjoy their company. Then we try to get as close to them as possible, to see whether they like our company before we invite them."
"I see."
"You are privileged. It is rare that anyone learns of even the existence of the inner group before we invite them to join."
"Why am I so special?" Millicent asked.
"N'Dibe was thoughtful and took another long drink of coffee before answering. "First," he said at length, "I felt you were out of the ordinary from the moment I met you at the twelve apostles stones. A silly name, by the way, since they pre-date Christianity by three thousand years. Second, because you told me of your second sight when you had not previously mentioned it to anyone but your late husband."
"And you made up your mind because of that?" At that point Millicent realised she hadn't actually mentioned second sight to the man, though perhaps she had implied it. "How do you know that anyway?"
"On the question of how I know, I know many things not put into words. It was in any event a little more than that which was decisive. Firstly I spoke to the others and they will study you for themselves this evening. Secondly, much as it may upset a detective to be on the receiving end of investigation, I checked up on you."
Millicent was not sure whether to be offended. "How?" she demanded.
"I made one or two phone calls, consulted a crystal and so on." N'Dibe was smiling benignly again and Millicent could not tell to what extent he was being serious. She was still not sure whether she was offended. The large black man glanced at his watch.
"The meeting at the Central Library is at eight," he said. "If we leave at once there should be plenty of parking space just behind, off Manchester Road. That will give us just enough time to get up to the fourth floor."
The meeting was a mildly interesting one, about the pendulum dowsing experiments conducted by Tom Lethbridge. He had been an archaeologist and museum curator at Cambridge who had retired to Devon and conducted as a hobby a series of experiments, which had honed the accuracy of pendulum dowsing. He had irritated fellow archaeologists before his retirement by dowsing the most suitable places to dig and been right more often than them. Millicent thought that Lethbridge's eccentricity had probably irritated his colleagues less than being right more often than they were.
Lethbridge, it seemed, had discovered that, if you had a long cord, adjustable by winding it round a pencil or stick, and a weight on the end, you could hold it out over various items and get a rate for a length of cord at which the pendulum would swing or rotate for various materials. For instance, with a cord length of twenty-two inches a pendulum circled a silver object twenty two times.
The speaker in the room at Bradford City Library had urged them all to try it for themselves and Millicent had found a silver ring hidden beneath one of six sheets of paper, each with an item of different material concealed underneath.
"That's pretty good for a first try," an auburn haired woman commented. She was rather striking with very green eyes, which suggested the auburn might be at least partly natural. Her hair was slightly longer than shoulder length and tied back with a pewter clasp at the nape of her neck. "Assuming it was a first try," the woman added.
"Can anyone do this kind of thing?" Millicent asked.
Tobias NDibe was watching and it was he who answered the question. "According to studies by the Stanford Research Institute in the US," he said, "About 95 to 98 percent of people can learn to do psi things like remote viewing, though, of course, some have more natural talent than others. Some of the human race need a lot of practice to be any good at all."
"Yes, Toby," said the auburn haired woman, "but Tom Lethbridge thought that only about 60 or 70 percent of people could dowse, and your new friend looks like a natural."
"I tend to agree, Judith," N'Dibe nodded. "But with the question of natural talent at least I side with the Stanford Research Institute rather than Tom Lethbridge."
Millicent wondered which of those present were part of the inner group sizing her up. She thought that Judith was probably one of them and quite liked the woman. Of the others she could not be certain. She thought the speaker was probably one and he certainly seemed able to dowse and there was a tall, dark haired and vaguely Italian looking woman in her late twenties who seemed somehow another likely candidate.
As the twenty or so people drifted away at the end of the meeting, Millicent decided that she was sufficiently interested in the outer group to come again in a months time, if pressure of work allowed. She also decided she was interested in knowing more about the inner group as well.
They had driven in separate cars from the restaurant so there would be no need for them to see each other further that evening.
"Just a moment," N'Dibe said as they went out into the street. "I want to talk to one or two others before we go our separate ways."
Aha, Millicent thought. Out loud she said, "I want to get back and sort out one or two work related things before the night is out. Can you spare ten minutes to drive up to Baildon when you've finished."
"I think there would be time," N'Dibe agreed, "If you give me the address."
Millicent went into the house, picking up the mail as she did - she had left that morning before it arrived. She laid out cups, saucers and biscuits and filled the kettle, before glancing through the envelopes. There was a bill from Yorkshire electricity, a circular from a local estate agent offering to get a good price for her house with a low commission charge, a begging letter from a charity and some company offering her the chance to win £100,000. She threw the letters unopened on the counter top and went into the living room, where she sat down in an armchair.
Millicent recalled the little incident at HQ that afternoon, when she had the sudden flash of insight. The actual correctness of the idea was yet to be tested, but these ... whatever you called them ... these ideas had been right before. How did these sudden flashes square with what she had been listening to and seeing tonight? Clearly the human mind had access to information it didn't have at a conscious level. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the front door bell.
Millicent let in Tobias N'Dibe and he entered the sitting room politely and sat down on the settee when invited.
"Tea or coffee?"
"Tea I think. I have to ration myself to coffee, the caffeine is bad for me."
"I have de-caff."
"Then coffee will be most welcome."
Millicent went into the kitchen and switched the kettle on before returning to the living room.
"You are concerned about something?" N'Dibe said. "I detected it earlier, during the meal, but it was not at the front of your mind then."
"It was something trivial that happened at a briefing session in the incident room," Millie said, and described what happened.
N'Dibe nodded slowly. "What you described could almost be your training as a de
tective coming through. Millicent started to object that it was a flash of knowing but N'Dibe held up a hand to silence her.
"I did not say that it was such a thing," he said, "Only that could almost be that. At the stone circle last week you described what I felt was an involuntary psychism. Tonight you displayed considerable natural talent in dowsing. I suspect that your training as a detective exerts some control over your talent."
"For twenty two years the American military and the Stanford Research Institute cooperated in an experiment in remote viewing, some of which was spectacularly successful. They had remote viewers who had no more than a well-defined target and a lead in period of relaxation before a project. I usually use a process of relaxing an individual then raising their thought until they are in contact with their own higher self. In your case it may be in order just to relax and view."
"Where did you learn all this?" Millicent asked.
N'Dibe smiled. "Some things are just a matter of reading - many books over many years," he said. "I also belong to the SRIA".
"SRIA?"
"It stands for Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia. They are what you might call Masonic Rosicrucians. They are the body to which the original founders of the Order of the Golden Dawn belonged first. The SRIA is Masonic and does not initiate women, so many members are involved with other organisations which do."
"It sounds like black magic or something."
N'Dibe smiled again. "The SRIA requires members to be Christians as well as Masons," he said. "Now I think I can help you with your ... err ... insights. Call me when you really need to know something. Using your talent to order will help to control it."
N'Dibe handed her a business card. "You have e-mail?" he asked.
"Both at Police HQ and here, though I don't use it much here."
"Then you can contact me easily. Here is my e-mail address." He passed her a business card.
Millicent glanced at it, and then put it in her handbag, which was on the floor beside the chair.
"Now, N’Dibe continued, tell me, have you ever taken drugs recreationally?"
"No. Why?"
"Probably a little cannabis does no harm, but the consciousness changing drugs bring on the kind of very undesirable uncontrolled psychism I mentioned. Other hard drugs change the personality completely. We would not wish to work with anyone who has partaken,"
"I see," Millicent said. "I'm a pretty awful hostess. I boiled the kettle without making the drinks,"
She got up and went back into the kitchen, switched the kettle on again, made the coffee and carried a tray into the living room where N'Dibe was checking something in a pocket diary.
"The Monday just gone was the new moon," he remarked obscurely. "Could you arrange to be free on the Sunday of this week?"
Millicent thought briefly. "I don't see why not," she said. "Why?"
"Several of the group saw you at close quarters tonight and would like to work with you. It is now up to you to decide whether you would like to work with us."
Millicent was not clear in her own mind afterwards why she had simply said, "Yes, I would."
Chapter 7: Wednesday 15th August (am)
