The Dark Corners Box Set

by Robert Scott-Norton

  “So, you’ve been monitoring the collection?”

  “Obviously.”

  “And me?”

  “You’ve been leading an interesting few days. You met Joceline Scardovi?”

  Seth began the walk down to his car. “Have you parked down here?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “So, what did you make of her?”

  “She was a complicated lady. I assume you were keeping eyes on her as well.”

  She shrugged coyly.

  “Jeez, how many are there in your society?”

  “Not as many as we’d like.”

  “But enough to keep tabs on dangerous people.”

  “Not just the dangerous. When Graeme Lowman killed himself, Cowl’s influence over the Scardovis vanished pretty much overnight. We considered neither Kain nor Joceline particularly risky. Their paintings on the other hand…”

  “What was so special about Kain’s paintings?”

  “You saw them. You tell me.”

  “The shadowmen. I saw them at the hospital. Adam had summoned doorways to the Almost Realm. His Adherents were coming through and hitching onto our ghost party. They looked like this.”

  “You know about the Almost Realm?” she said, sounding surprised.

  “I’ve seen doorways since I was a boy. It took a lot of research when I was old enough to discover that others could also see them and had understood the nature of the thing on the other side.”

  “I’m not sure anyone really understands it. It would take someone to travel through a doorway and survive long enough to study it for us to understand.”

  Seth remained quiet. Again, he wondered how much she knew about him. He’d only told two people about his experience with the doorway he’d fallen through at Ravenmeols and neither of those would talk to Olivia. Was she implying that she knew what had happened?

  “What do you think the shadowmen were doing in the painting?” he asked.

  “Adam Cowl refuses to give up on life. In that house behind us, he was murdered by the father of a young girl that had been indoctrinated into his fledgling cult. The community rallied, and the father evaded the authorities. There had been talk about what Adam had been doing up there for years.” She paused, letting her words sink in, then she continued. “The cult was going by the name the Adherents of the Fourth even back then. They found Adam’s killer and made certain he suffered the same fate.

  “We know that that wasn’t the end of Adam. He’d taken an unhealthy interest in life beyond death. And it seems he was fully prepared for the possibility of an early demise. He made sure to come back. Taking possession of another’s body was a trick he’d learnt. Coming back from the Almost Realm was key. Once he’d mastered that, hitching rides was just one more step.”

  “He was performing a ritual at Ravenmeols. I was at the centre of it.”

  “I’d imagine he’d targeted you as his next host.”

  Seth didn’t feel comfortable sharing that the reason Adam hadn’t been able to take over his body was because he already had a hitcher riding him—his childhood hitcher, Charlie, who’d been missing ever since that night.

  “There was a book the Adherents were using at the hospital as part of the ritual.”

  “The Book of the Fourth. What happened to that copy?”

  “I threw it into a fire.”

  “Pity, we’ve been trying to get our hands one for decades. There are only a handful. Adherents at a certain level are expected to make a handwritten copy from another. They are extremely personal items. They are never seen out in the wild.”

  “What makes them so valuable?”

  “They contain secrets that the Adherents would prefer to keep secret.”

  “Like how to come back to life after death.”

  “They say there are methods in there for prolonging life, communicating with those trapped in other realms, and resurrecting the dead. I expect it’s quite the read.”

  Communicating with those trapped in other realms.

  Seth couldn’t help but think of Kelly. He’d never been able to connect with her using his abilities. It was invariably difficult to find the right path to those you were most connected with in life, always easier to connect to strangers, but he’d tried many times over the years and failed consistently. This week, she’d shown herself to him by opening the door that had saved him from falling to his death. Kelly was still out there, trapped maybe.

  “Have you ever seen a copy?”

  She shook her head. “Like I say, the Adherents keep them well guarded.”

  “Would Lamont have had one in his collection?”

  “Unlikely. Even Lamont wouldn’t have been careless enough to leave a copy there and not share it with us.”

  “Seems to me that if we had a copy of that book, we might better understand what the Adherents are doing and why my uncle died.”

  “You won’t find one. Believe me, we’ve looked. The Adherents are prepared to guard their copies with their lives. They’d sooner die than give up the secrets from that book.”

  “You know a lot about what happened with the Adherents.”

  “We’ve had time to observe them.”

  “And they’re OK with that?”

  She laughed. “There have been run-ins. A few scrapes between us and them, but largely they keep away from us. They don’t want to do anything to risk exposing themselves. Besides, from time to time, we’ve been lucky enough to receive intelligence from disenfranchised Adherents. Not many mind, but over the years a few have left their fold and sought us out. We rely on their knowledge a lot.”

  They’d reached Seth’s car, and he was more relieved than he had any right to be to see that old heap waiting for him. “Thanks for helping me. I guess it was stupid of me to come here on my own.”

  “We could help you a lot more if you’d like. Just say the word.”

  “All it will cost me is giving up the collection.”

  Olivia raised her chin. “You were lucky today that I was here. Lamont was a friend and whilst we might have had our differences, we had a relationship built on trust and mutual respect. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the people he cared about. We don’t want to take the collection because we feel we have some innate right to it. We want to take it to save you from the pain that it will cause you. It consumed Lamont’s life, ruined by it. Don’t let that same fate befall you.”

  21

  “You know this is a terrible idea. You get that don’t you?” Malc switched off the ignition. They were in darkness for a moment until he turned on the interior lights.

  “In what way is this a bad idea?” Seth replied, next to him on the passenger seat. Seth stared straight ahead at the wrought-iron gates to Marsden Cemetery and a bleak feeling struck him in his chest, a heavy weight of uncertainty.

  “In every way,” Malc said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Seth swallowed. He was thirsty. It was a stupid idea. He knew that. He knew that Malc knew that. But the book was the key to all of this. Adam’s book of secrets. The path to eternal life. A way to reach those who are trapped. “That book is the key to understanding their motives. Olivia Gwinn told me that each is hand-copied from the original and each Adherent is furiously protective of his own copy.”

  “I think you’ve made a bit of a leap. I’m not convinced you’ll find a copy here.”

  “Don’t give me that. If you didn’t think I was onto something, I wouldn’t have gotten you to come out this late.”

  “I’ve come because I care about you enough to not see you in trouble with the police again. This is me trying to talk you out of this.”

  “You’re doing a shit job.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m here because you’re my friend,” Malc said, matter-of-factly. “And I’m here because I know that if I didn’t come, you’d have come anyway. At least this way I can keep an eye on you.”

  “Why did you bring the spades if you were going to talk me out of it?”

&nbs
p; “I’m eternally optimistic.”

  Seth took the spades from the back of Malc’s car and stepped into the night air. He could have done this on his own but after the incident at Adam’s cottage, he didn’t want to risk meeting the Adherents on his own. He looked around. The roads were quiet, a car hadn’t passed in over half an hour. There were still places where they could be observed from, though. Olivia had been pretty clear that the Vigilance Society had been following him. Were they out there still? Watching? Seth brushed his hand against the back of his neck. His skin was tingling.

  Malc turned on a torch and joined his friend. “You OK? You seem sort of out of it.”

  Seth lifted his chin. “Probably best if you turn that off,” Seth suggested. “I don’t want to draw any attention to us.”

  Malc shone the light around. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one’s seeing us do anything.”

  The cemetery was on the opposite side of Marsden to Adam’s house, past the main road that took them back to the motorway network. Malc was right in that there was no one near, the nearest residential street was a five-minute drive away. All that lay around them was moorland. It would have been tranquil during the day.

  The gates were unlocked. Malc shrugged. “I guess they see little need for security out here.”

  “I guess so.”

  The pair of them entered, the gates squealed on rusting hinges and set Seth’s teeth on edge.

  “Where are we headed?” Malc asked.

  After Olivia had left Seth at lunchtime, he’d sat in his car for an hour composing his thoughts, trying to sort through the muddle of information he’d been processing the last few days. The painting had been the start of it. It had been painted by an Adherent who’d had an intimate connection to the leader of the cult. Seth was convinced the Adherents had it. But why had they taken it now? Olivia’s comments about the Book of the Fourth had set his mind exploring tangential trains of thought. They had used it at Ravenmeols as part of a ritual to bring Adherents back to this realm, to take bodies for themselves. Adam had always demonstrated an unhealthy interest in prolonging his life or coming back from the dead. Was the painting connected to that possibility? The answers had to be in the book. If it was more than just a sacred object to them, but a way of operating, it would reveal their motives. Olivia had told him that the Adherents protected their own copies. He wouldn’t get a living Adherent to part with theirs. But what if Adam was still protecting his own copy?

  Seth had spent the afternoon at the church going through the parish records, trying to determine what had happened to Adam’s mortal remains. He’d been born in the parish, had lived here, been murdered here. Despite the accusations against him, would they have turned their back on him?

  “We’ll have to split up,” he told Malc. “I’m sure he’s in here somewhere. Just keep looking for anything unusual.”

  “You’re hoping for an unmarked grave?”

  “It’s got to be here.”

  “It doesn’t. It’s just as likely they would have buried him in a different parish. Somewhere away from the place that he’d hurt so much.”

  “The Adherents would have made sure he was buried here. They’d want him close to home. It sends a message to the people that did this to him.”

  Malc shone his light in Seth’s face. “I’m not sure I like the way you’re starting to think.”

  “Come on, I don’t want to be here all night.”

  They split, taking separate paths around the cemetery, Seth heading along the northern perimeter, Malc starting from the south. Seth’s feet crunched on the gravel path. Swinging his torch from one crooked headstone to the next, checking names and dates, avoiding the stare of the stone angels that stood watch at intervals. His foot kicked a stray beer can, and the noise startled him, making him scan around, certain he was being watched. A low chapel in the heart of the cemetery blocked his view of Malc, and Seth gripped his spade tighter, comforted by its weight.

  It took almost an hour before he found what he was looking for. A smaller, less tended path branched from the main, leading to several plots at the eastern border. There had been no attempts to keep this area tidy, the grass was unkempt, dead flowers had been left to decay rather than be removed. A chill caught the back of Seth’s neck as his torchlight picked out the plain simple headstone.

  Seth rested his spade and stood in front of the plot, passing his light around the ground and the moss-covered stone. This could belong to anybody.

  Gravel crunched behind him.

  Seth spun and light hit his face, blinding him.

  “What have you found?” Malc asked, dipping the light to the ground, picking out the unmarked grave.

  “See for yourself,” he replied. “I knew he’d be here.”

  “The ground has been disturbed.”

  Seth grabbed a handful of loose dirt then let it drop loosely through his fingers. The graves alongside had flattened earth, all overgrown with grass.

  “What are you thinking?” Malc asked.

  “I think it would be a mistake to jump to any conclusions.”

  Seth dug his spade into the ground and spooned out a clump of dirt.

  “What are you doing?” Malc said.

  “We need the book.”

  “You don’t know if this is his grave. It could just as well belong to a soldier from the war.”

  “Buried with a blank headstone, at a forgotten corner of the cemetery. No. I don’t buy it.”

  Malc took a deep breath then stood at the other end of the plot. He switched off his torch then indicated that Seth should do the same. “No point in highlighting our presence to any onlookers.”

  Together, the friends dug.

  Two hours later, an exhausted Seth drove his spade through the soil, ready to give up. There wasn’t anything here. But then, the spade connected with an object with a dull thump. Excited by the prospect of the end being near, Seth ploughed his spade into the dirt again and again, connecting with the wooden lid of the coffin as he shifted dirt and cleared the surface.

  “You’ve done it,” Malc said, looking down from the top of the hole.

  Seth nodded bleakly then crouched and knocked on the top of the coffin.

  “Come on out if you’re in there.”

  “Not sure this is the best time for your sense of humour.”

  “Perfect time.”

  He whistled as he sought the edges of the coffin lid. He thought it might be difficult to open but it wasn’t. The lid opened easily. A stench of spoiled meat escaped, engulfing Seth in a cloud of noxious fumes.

  There was no book.

  There was no body.

  Only a note. A folded rectangle of paper had been set in the middle of the coffin. Crumbs of earth that slid in from the banks of the freshly dug grave sat on its surface partially obscuring the handwritten name.

  Seth’s name.

  He picked up the paper, then handed it to Malc before climbing out of the grave, using Malc’s offered arm to find purchase. Malc shone his torch on the paper and passed it to Seth who opened it like he was opening the lid to a bomb.

  Your continued interference will not be tolerated.

  Sincerely

  A

  22

  By the time they’d refilled the hole, and driven back to the vicarage, Seth’s muscles ached like he’d run a marathon.

  Georgia and Joe were in bed, and Malc got both him and Seth a glass of water then stood at the sink drinking from his. Seth saw his friend’s hand trembling.

  “Crazy night, huh?” Seth said.

  Malc refilled his glass. “We need to tell the police what we found.”

  “A missing body from an unmarked grave? No chance. Not after the way they treated me. They’ll assume I had something to do with it.”

  “What about Olivia Gwinn?”

  Seth was already shaking his head. “I don’t trust her.”

  “You said she helped you at Adam’s house. What happened there?”
/>   “Honestly, I don’t know. I thought I heard something in the basement, but there couldn’t have been anyone there. She interrupted whatever it was at just the right time. But she’s not telling me everything. She’s dangerous. Perhaps as dangerous as the Adherents.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I really think she might be,” Seth said. “Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m clearly a target for the Adherents. They must be keeping an eye on me. I’m putting you at risk. You and Georgia and Joe are the closest thing I’ve got to family.”

  “You do still have an actual family, you know.” Malc scratched the side of his head above the ear. “Kelly was targeted by the Adherents once. Perhaps now that we know they’re active again, we should warn your parents.”

  Seth thought about how his parents would react if he were to turn up at their house after all this time. Would he even get past the front door?

  “How easy do you think it is to hide a body?” Seth asked. “It’s got to be difficult hasn’t it? I mean, we’re not talking about a skeleton you could shove in a sports bag, we’re talking a body that was buried a hundred years ago.” Then more disturbing questions came to him. “Actually, how long does it take a body to decompose to a skeleton?”

  Malc shook his head gently. A wry smile appearing. “You are the weirdest friend I’ve ever had.”

  Seth ignored the jibe. His mind was racing, finding patterns in the events of the last few days.

  “The missing body and the painting have to be connected. What do you think they want with them?”

  “Why are you so sure they’re connected?”

  “They have to be. The painting was taken by an Adherent, it was a targeted attack, nothing else was taken from the collection.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  Seth paused. It’s true that he hadn’t done a full inventory of the basement, but it’s not as if he’d had much of an opportunity. “Lamont was killed for the painting. He was found by its empty vault. They knew what they were taking. Knowing the artist’s background, and the subject matter, I can’t imagine anyone other than an Adherent taking it. So, running with that train of thought, why take Adam’s remains?”