Manumishon raised a hand. ‘Mr Skull?’
The translator echoed his words.
‘May I interrupt and say that we are not able to do as you ask. This meeting is a waste of all our times and many of your resources. You ask from us that which is impossible.’
Skull’s smile remained on his lips. His eyes continued to sparkle with a glimmer of barely suppressed amusement but they also contained the hint of a threat. ‘I’m aware that I’m asking a lot, Supreme Houngan…’
‘You are asking the impossible,’ Manumishon countered.
‘… but I think you should hear what it is we want. If you all think it’s impossible, we can discuss the matter and see if there’s a solution to our requirements. A solution that the three of you can propose as an alternative.’
Behind Skull, Fiona had finished anointing and lighting the final candle. Without a sound, she took the ceremonial chalice she had been carrying and placed it beneath the final candle. Carefully, she took a blade from her pocket and passed it once through the candle’s flame. The blade was long, sharp and its length was asymmetrical. Fiona pressed it to her lips, then placed it carefully into the chalice. There was a sudden thrill of electricity in the room and the air turned heavy. Fiona took a glance around the room, assured herself that all the flames were burning appropriately, and then slipped through the open door. She caught the light switch as she left, leaving the occupants in the muted glow of the fluttering candlelight. She returned a moment later holding the handle of a large box. Placing it discreetly on the floor by Skull’s feet, she stood behind him and began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse.
Despre leant forward. Turning his attention between Skull and Manumishon, he spoke quickly and with impassioned urgency. The translator stumbled over some of the words as he tried to keep up with the man’s impassioned outburst.
‘Of course this is impossible. These people are outsiders and know nothing of voodoo. They think that their money can build us a church here in their United Kingdom. In return, they expect to be touched by Bondyè. I can’t believe that one of the lesser mistè would piss on these ignorant farang.’
Rillieux laughed.
Manumishon glowered.
Skull passed a glance to Raven who shook his head, as his smile grew broader. Raven scribbled something on a notepad and left it on the desk where Black could read the words.
Behind Skull, Fiona had removed her blouse and was stepping out of her skirt. Seemingly unnoticed by everyone in the room, she began to remove her bra and then her panties. Her modest breasts swayed lightly as she tried to maintain her balance and step out of the undergarments. When she stood up, revealing herself naked, no one looked in her direction until she spoke.
‘No one here expects to be touched by Bondyè,’ Fiona said, sharply. She glared at Despre and said, ‘You will not insult us by condemning us as farang.’
The visitors glared at her. The translator glanced in Fiona’s direction, noticed her nudity, and then blushed. He repeated her statement in Haitian Creole.
‘Messers Skull, Raven and Black are aware that Bondyè does not trouble himself with the matters of this world,’ Fiona went on. ‘They know that spiritual matters in voodoo are dealt with through the loa–’ She paused and glared at Houngan Despre. ‘Mistè, if that’s how you prefer to describe spirit liaisons for Bondyè.’
Despre shrank back into his seat.
Fiona gestured to Skull, Raven and Black. ‘These gentlemen are trying to bestow generous gifts on you. They wish to help you promote the name of your church to a wider parish. They have invested a lot of time and effort in arranging this meeting. And you repay them with insults?’
‘Ayizan,’ Rillieux whispered.
Manumishon and Despre drew sharp breaths.
Raven shook his head. He held up a hand and looked set to argue with Rillieux and assuage the doubts of her companions.
Skull leant close to him and placed a hand on his arm. In a lowered voice he said, ‘Rillieux thinks our Fiona is possessed by the spirit of loa Ayizan. Let’s not spoil Rillieux’s delusion.’ Speaking directly to the translator, Skull said, ‘You can see that the loa favour us with their presence. If the loa have faith in Skull and Raven, surely their church’s representatives can extend us the courtesy of hearing our proposition?’
The translator held up his hand. Studying Skull carefully he said, ‘I do not know these terms loa, Bondyè and Ayizan.’
‘You don’t need to understand them,’ Skull growled. ‘Just translate.’
The translator shook his head. ‘I’m working with a Creole language here.’ He sounded agitated and out of his depth. ‘I understand that every word I say here is very important. I don’t want to make a mistake.’
‘Bondyè,’ Fiona said slowly, ‘is the one supreme vodun god. The name is a Creole formation from Bon Dieu – Good God.’
The translator nodded. His gaze was locked on Fiona’s face, purposefully ignoring her bare body.
‘Loa,’ she continued, ‘are the spirits who respond to vodun prayers. Bondyè does not concern himself with mortal matters. But the loa listen to prayers and they answer them if they receive appropriate compensation.’
‘Loa,’ the translator repeated. ‘Spirits.’
‘That’s a very simplistic definition, isn’t it?’ Manumishon enquired.
‘It’s as much as the translator needs to know,’ Fiona returned. ‘Unless you think he needs to know more?’
Manumishon shook his head and settled back in his seat.
The translator still stared at Fiona’s eyes. ‘Ayizan?’
‘Ayizan is the loa responsible for commerce and trading.’ Fiona’s smile was tinged with a bitter edge of smugness. She looked as though she was settling herself into a role as she added, ‘Ayizan is one of the more powerful loa and easily able to possess any mortal she chooses. Because of her interest in commerce it’s appropriate that she’s here tonight.’
The translator muttered a thank you.
‘Tell us what you want, loa,’ Despre said, softly.
As the translator reiterated Despre’s words, Skull touched Fiona’s wrist and said, ‘They think you’re possessed by Ayizan.’
Fiona smiled down at Skull. In a soft voice she said, ‘And you don’t think I’m possessed by Ayizan. I wonder who might be correct.’ She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she walked to the seat that had been set aside for her and climbed onto the table. Kneeling, with her back to the translator, she pointed at Black, Raven and then Skull.
‘You three will give your gifts to the houngan now. They will accept your generosity. They will build the Church of the Black Angel here in this United Kingdom and they will perform the ritual that will guarantee your company’s further success.’ Glaring at Skull she said, ‘The initial sacrifice is in the box by your feet. The kris sits in the chalice behind you.’
From behind Fiona, the nervous babble of the translator’s words was a constant undercurrent to her commands. Raven and Black turned to glance at the kris, the ceremonial dagger, which Fiona had left in the chalice behind Skull. Its handle was gold and encrusted with jewels. The blade of the kris was long twisted and looked wickedly sharp. Skull continued to stare at Fiona with an expression of amused satisfaction. When she stepped close to him he caught her elbow and pulled her ear close to his lips.
‘This isn’t a one-way journey for me, is it?’
She laughed at the suggestion. ‘Haven’t I answered that question before?’
‘Several times,’ he admitted. ‘But I want to hear your reassurance again.’
She pulled away from him and turned to the visitors as Raven and Black climbed from their chairs. Raven headed out of the office and Fiona knew he was going to retrieve the money from the safe. Black went for the box at Skull’s feet. The content’s clucked in despair, as though the chicken inside knew that its fate was now in the hands of Roger Black.
‘What do you want from us?’ Manumishon demanded. ‘
Haven’t we already said that what you’re asking is impossible?’
‘Their demands have changed,’ Fiona said, quietly. ‘These gentlemen simply want to give you one hundred thousand pounds so you can start the Church of the Black Angel here in this beneficent country. They will arrange new identities for each of you, so that you no longer have to worry about any outstanding issues you may have with the authorities.’
Manumishon and Despre exchanged glances. Rillieux’s nostrils flared when the translator reiterated those words. Grudgingly, she nodded agreement.
‘In return for their generosity,’ Fiona went on, ‘you’ll arrange for the prayers to be made to the spirits so they bless this company’s fortunes and protect their investments. In return for their generosity you will also convince the spirits to accept Mr Skull here as a loa. Do you understand what you’re being asked to do?’
Whilst Fiona waited for the translator to finish speaking, she began to casually rub van van oil into her bare flesh. Starting with her shoulders, unmindful of being naked in the centre of the room, she eased the lubricant against her skin and relished its sweet fragrance. As she continued to massage herself with the van van her skin shone gold in the candlelight.
‘Do you understand what you’re being asked to do?’ she asked again.
Manumishon shook his head and glared at her. ‘We can’t make this man into a loa,’ he exclaimed. ‘He is alive. Do you propose that we should kill him?’
Fiona glanced at Skull.
Skull’s grin was broad and voracious. He turned to Manumishon and said, ‘At last, supreme houngan. I think you finally understand what we want from you.’
29
Geoff sat in the passenger seat of Nicola’s convertible Mercedes. Technically, he supposed, the vehicle wasn’t Nicola’s. It belonged to Nicola’s boyfriend, Don. But, since Nicola was driving, and seemed to have constant access to the car whenever it was needed, he thought of it as being hers. The tote bag in the back of the car technically belonged to the stranger. And, of the money inside the bag, he supposed that even the thirty-five thousand that was his share wouldn’t technically belong to him until he had completed the job. Technically, he decided, even though he was sat in an expensive car, alongside a beautiful woman, and carrying fifty thousand pounds, he was still the same office drone he had been at the beginning of the day. The world may have shifted on its axis, and he might have agreed to become a thief. But there was no reason for him to believe he was now any different to the man he had been at the start of the evening.
‘Did you believe any of that stuff he was telling us?’ Nicola asked.
‘Vodun? Bokor? Ayizan? Severed heads? Naked women? Voodoo sorcerers?’ He drew a deep breath and tried to push the images from his thoughts. ‘I’ve never heard such a load of horseshit in my entire life.’
‘That bloke looked like he believed in it all.’
Geoff nodded. ‘Believing is everything,’ he said, tiredly. Ignoring the question, ignoring everything except for Nicola’s large, expressive eyes, he said, ‘Is Don cool with this?’
They sat in the car park outside Shades. They could see the doorway from their seat inside Nicola’s car beneath the shadow of the car park’s trees. A handful of smokers congregated in the orange glow of light from the pub’s windows. Above them, the glowing green sign that said SHADES spluttered softly in the night. The initial letter winked on and off.
‘Don doesn’t mind the occasional deal that skirts south of being legal,’ Nicola said lightly. ‘He employs a couple of migrants in the kitchens at The House of Usher and I know he’s paying them peanuts cos they’re not supposed to be in this country. I’ve also seen him sell a couple of bits and pieces to his regular customers that would land him in jail if the police ever found out that he’s dealing in–’
‘Is Don cool with you working with me?’ Geoff asked, flatly.
Nicola wrenched her gaze from Geoff. She stared out of the Mercedes’ overlarge windscreen. ‘He’s not said he objects to that.’
‘Does he know that you and I have a history?’
Nicola shrugged. ‘He knows that we went out together for a while.’
Geoff closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Nicola said the words so easily it was almost possible to believe that their torrid relationship could genuinely be described as them going out together for a while. The bland phrase slipped over the fact that they had developed an immediate sexual connection. It didn’t even hint at the idea that Nicola had a voracious appetite for sexual deviance that matched Geoff’s prurient tastes. With his eyes closed he was treated to a montage of images where Nicola’s slender body was oiled, bound and savagely disciplined. Her mouth was half-open in a sigh of ecstasy and, when she did speak, she was urging him to go further, do more, break taboos and take her to new and undiscovered extremes of satisfaction. The intensity of the memories was so vivid that it did not surprise Geoff to discover, when he opened his eyes, he was sporting a semi.
‘Don was the one who suggested your name for this job,’ Nicola said quickly. ‘Don knows that we did more than kiss…’
‘We did a lot more than kiss,’ Geoff grunted.
‘… and he trusts me not to fool around behind his back any more than he’s fooling around behind mine.’
Geoff digested those words as he studied the darkness outside the vehicle. It was a cloudless night with a sprinkling of stars making shapes in the sky overhead. He wanted to dwell on the vastness of the universe and remind himself that his own actions were small and most likely irrelevant and meaningless in the great scheme of things. But he couldn’t shake the idea that he was on the verge of being involved with something onerous.
‘I’ll take all the money,’ he decided.
Nicola squealed. ‘I thought part of it was for me and for Don!’
‘There’s fifty grand there,’ Geoff said thoughtfully. ‘If I manage to do this job right, if I manage to get that skull out of Charlie Raven’s office, and into that weirdo’s hands, I need to have some sort of leverage that gets me the remainder of the money.’
Nicola chewed on her lower lip. ‘Don won’t be happy.’
‘I’m relying on Don being unhappy to ensure that he puts the pressure on our religious friend and forces him to pay up.’
‘Don’t I get any of the money?’ she asked with sudden brightness.
She leant over from her position behind the driver’s wheel and placed a hand between his legs. The gesture was absurdly intimate, although Nicola managed to make it look almost chaste. The inside of her wrist rubbed against the crotch of his pants. In contrast, her face was a mask of innocence as she blandly studied him and asked, ‘Don’t I get anything up front?’
‘I’m so tempted to give you something up front,’ Geoff admitted.
They both giggled.
Geoff could taste in an electric tang in the air between them. He felt sure, if he took a deep breath, he would be able to drink the sweet and succulent flavour of Nicola’s arousal. Her lips were so close he could see the smoothness of the tempting gloss that coated their surface. He could almost taste the flavour of the Bacardi Breezer she had sipped inside Shades. If their lips touched and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, he knew he would be able to devour every sweet taste that her nearness promised.
‘I’m so tempted to give you something up front,’ he sighed. ‘But if I did that, it would raise Don’s suspicions, so it’s not something I can do.’
Nicola snatched away her hand and slumped back in her seat. All her facade of playful teasing evaporated as though it had never been there. The atmosphere of charged arousal vanished leaving Geoff with a rising blush and a waning erection.
‘So how are we going to do this?’ Nicola asked eventually. She glanced at the money on the back seat and added, ‘What’s your plan?’
‘Drive me home and I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow,’ Geoff promised. ‘I’ll have sorted out all the details of how we’re going to do this by then. We’ll be
taking the skull within the next week or two but, for now, I’m only certain that it will be happening on a night time and it won’t be happening until I’m good and ready.’
30
Geoff took the money out of the tote bag and counted it on the kitchen table. There was fifty thousand pounds. No more and no less. The sum gave him a vague sense of reassurance that the Church of the Black Angel would not try to cheat him. He reasoned that anyone who went to the trouble of counting out exactly fifty thousand pounds was clearly representing an organisation that understood every penny mattered. It was clearly an organisation that knew a deal was a deal and what was right was right. But, whilst those thoughts were comforting, Geoff knew he would need to rely on something more substantial than a vague sense of reassurance if he wanted to be sure of receiving the full amount that was due to him once he had completed his part of the arrangement.
He placed the counted money in a metal biscuit tin. The tin was decorated with images of Edinburgh Castle, a West Highland Terrier, some thistles and a kilt-wearing bagpipe player. The edges of the box were embellished with a tartan print and, inside the box there was a lingering fragrance of all-butter shortbread. Sealing the lid shut with a strip of duct tape, Geoff went into his bedroom, pulled open the door of the fitted wardrobe, and then fell to his knees. Tearing at a loose corner of carpet at the back of the wardrobe, ignoring the money spider that ran over the back of his hand, he pulled the carpet back and exposed a pair of loose-fitting floorboards. Once the loose fitting floorboards were removed he had exposed a space between the joists below that was just wide enough to accept the biscuit tin.
Carefully, almost reverently, Geoff slid the tin into its hiding place. He covered the tin with the boards and then concealed the boards with the carpet. He then pushed a pair of battered trainers and an old T-shirt over the corner of carpet and closed the wardrobe doors. Absently, he kicked some spare laundry against the wardrobe doors then sat down on his bed and tried to decide if the hiding place was adequate. An hour later he was still sitting there. Pragmatically, he told himself it was time to go to bed and get some sleep in readiness for Monday at the office.
Raven and Skull Page 13
