Black Cathedral (department 18)

by L. H. Maynard

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Carter found Jane in the library, arranging chairs around the circular table. Raj was also there, on the other side of the room, headphones on, checking the sound levels on an old Revox tape recorder.

  Carter pulled Jane to one side and kept his voice low so Raj couldn’t hear. ‘I think Kirby should leave the island.’ Kirby had told him what she had seen; he believed her. His problem was he was convinced Kirby had been very close to being killed and he didn’t think she had the strength or the experience to battle what he was almost certain they were going to come up against.

  ‘Really? Why?’ Jane said. It was too early in her opinion for anyone to consider leaving, even if there was a means for them to do so.

  ‘Because I don’t think it’s safe for her to stay.’ ‘Wise move,’ Raj said, glancing round at them. ‘This place is going to destroy her.’

  Jane spun round to look at him. ‘How did you hear…’ Raj took off the headphones and pointed to the small button microphone he’d placed in the center of the table.

  Jane shook her head. ‘Bloody technology!’ ‘Our job would be a lot more difficult without it,’ Raj said.

  ‘Raj, butt out,’ Carter said. ‘Please.’ Raj shrugged and replaced his headphones. Jane pulled out a chair and gestured for Carter to sit down. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘According to her, she’s been seeing things,’ Raj said.

  ‘Raj! Either come over here and join in the conversation properly, or shut up,’ Jane said.

  Raj waved at her. ‘I’ve finished here for now. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve still got the basement rooms to wire.’

  He left them alone.

  Jane waited until he’d shut the door behind him. ‘Right. Now tell me what’s been going on?’

  ‘Well, Raj was right, in a way. Kirby has been seeing things. A sphere of light bouncing around in here, for instance. But there’s more; a lot more.’ He outlined Kirby’s account of what she’d experienced since arriving on the island.

  ‘What do you make of it?’ Jane said.

  ‘Someone, or something, tried to pull her through the wall. What do you make of it?’

  ‘It’s too early to say. We need more.’ She had no idea what her opinion was. It sounded unbelievable but yet she knew that Carter, and Kirby for that matter, were not prone to exaggeration.

  ‘She was pretty shaken up by the experience,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure she’s safe here.’

  ‘Are you saying she’s not up to the job?’ Jane bristled, Kirby had been her choice and she had no doubts about the young woman’s ability.

  ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’ve worked with her before and always found her very competent. But I do think she’s very vulnerable, and what ever the forces are that inhabit this house and this island, I think they’ve recognized that vulnerability.’

  ‘Are you questioning my decision to bring her along?’ Jane knew that sounded painfully defensive but she couldn’t help herself.

  Carter could hear the tension crackling in her voice like a static charge. ‘Hey, hold on a minute. Why the paranoia? I’m not questioning your decisions.’

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’ Jane was digging a hole and had just started with her second spade.

  He regarded her coolly. ‘I don’t really think this is the time for sniping. I’m simply reflecting your own concern, that’s all. When we spoke earlier you said you were worried about her. What’s changed your mind?’

  She returned the cool gaze with one of her own. ‘Nothing’s changed my mind. I’m still concerned about her. But I need her here, I need you all here. If people start shipping out at the first sign of trouble, then this investigation is going to grind to a halt. And I can’t allow that to happen.’

  ‘So the Department comes first? Right?’ He realized he wasn’t going to persuade her. Her stubborn streak was still one of the qualities he admired in her.

  ‘No, but this investigation is vital if the Department is to survive, and I don’t want it to stall before it’s even gotten under way. I’ll go and have a word with Kirby and assess the situation myself.’ She took his hand and felt the hard strength there. ‘Thanks, Rob. Let’s not fall out.’

  He squeezed her hand before he stood. ‘Okay, Jane, you do that. But if you let her stay and something happens to her, you’re going to have to live with the guilt of that for the rest of your life.’

  ‘That’s part and parcel of being in charge, Robert. You, of all people, should know that.’ The words were out before she could stop them. ‘I’m sorry. That was below the belt.’

  He looked at her steadily. ‘Yes, it was,’ he said, and left the room without another word.

  She watched the door close behind him, then glanced about her. ‘Shit!’ she said.

  What was wrong with her? Her people skills had all but disappeared. She was never usually this edgy, but this place was unsettling her. She was convinced there was something here; something watching their every action; something listening to every sound. She could feel it — she could almost touch it. And it had nothing to do with Raj’s microphones or the cameras. It was something that existed on a much deeper level. It was like stirring up the bottom of a pond with a stick. Now mud and debris were floating around, clouding the water, pushing understanding just a little bit further out of her grasp. She needed to speak with Kirby. Maybe then she’d get a clearer understanding about what exactly was happening here.

  ‘Robert’s worried about you,’ Jane said, almost as soon as she found Kirby in her bedroom.

  Kirby lay on the bed, eyes closed but not sleeping. She didn’t respond.

  ‘Is he right to be?’ Jane persisted.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Kirby said, her eyes flicking open. It was obvious from her red-rimmed eyes that she had been crying.

  ‘How’s your head?’ Jane said, deflecting the full frontal attack with a more circuitous route.

  Kirby touched her head with her hand. The swelling had subsided a little but there was going to be an unsightly bruise in the morning. ‘Sore.’

  ‘Sit up. Let me take a look.’ Jane heard her mother’s tone come to the fore; it was as if she was tending one of her daughters after a fall in the garden.

  Kirby winced as Jane’s fingers traced the outline of the lump on the back of her head.

  ‘That’s quite a bump,’ Jane said.

  ‘I’ll live.’

  ‘He thinks you ought to leave the island, you know?’ The circuit had brought her back to the central issue.

  ‘He can mind his own business.’ Kirby pulled away. Her anger apparent in the lightning flash in her eyes.

  ‘I can’t guarantee your safety,’ Jane said. She was torn between honoring her responsibility for the safety of her team, and wanting, no needing, Kirby to stay.

  ‘I’m not asking you to. I’m a big girl now. I’m old enough to take the blame for my own actions.’

  Jane regarded her for a moment, taking in the stubborn set of her chin and the defiance in her eyes. There would be no persuading her, and Jane knew that any persuasion she tried would be halfhearted. There was a lot of truth in what she had told Carter; Kirby was an integral part of this investigation, but Jane wanted her here for more personal reasons. Having another female presence on the island was important to her; it stopped her from feeling isolated by her sex in what otherwise would be a male-dominated group. She looked upon Kirby more as a younger sister than a work colleague, and having her here to look after compensated a little for being away from Gemma and Amy. ‘Fair enough,’ she said, taking the girl’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly. ‘But if anything else happens, anything at all, tell me. Promise me that I’ll be the first to know.’

  ‘Promise,’ Kirby said, and lay back on the bed. ‘There was so much pain in her face.’

  Jane was confused. ‘Whose?’

  ‘Jo Madley. It was her face I saw on the screen.’

  Jane immediately rec
ognized the name from the Waincraft file. ‘Which means…’

  Kirby nodded. ‘It means she’s probably dead. That’s why I could see her.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll make contact to night, at the séance. You are up for it?’

  Kirby sighed. ‘I wish everyone would stop treating me like a child. I’ll be fine. Honestly.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jane said, stroking a stray strand of curly hair away from the girl’s eyes. ‘I won’t say anything else.’

  ‘Good,’ Kirby said.

  Jane hesitated for a moment before speaking again. Finally she said, ‘Kirby, what you were saying earlier…about me being psychic…how do you know?’

  Kirby looked at her, a half smile playing on her lips. ‘Jane, everybody’s psychic to a certain degree. Everyone’s capable of small flashes of precognition. Even if it’s just knowing who’s on the other end of the line when the phone rings. But some people’s psychic ability is stronger than others, and I’ve always been able to pick up on those people. It gets me…here.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘Almost like an electric shock, but not unpleasant…more a warm tingle, increasing in intensity depending on the strength of their powers. Being around Robert and John, especially at the same time, is almost uncomfortable. With Raj less so.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘A warm buzz. I’d say you’re just a couple of notches behind Robert and John at the moment. But if you opened up to it, and started to use it, you could be more powerful than both of them combined.’

  Jane’s mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. ‘I see,’ she said thickly.

  ‘No you don’t because you’re in denial. For some reason your subconscious is blocking it off. Maybe something happened in your past, something that gave your inner mind some reason to shut the psychic part down. I’m no psychoanalyst, but there’s usually a reason for this kind of barrier being erected.’

  ‘So how do I break the barrier down?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  As if reading her mind, Kirby said, ‘You have to want to, that’s the important thing…and, at the moment, I don’t think you do.’ Perceptive as well.

  ‘The whole idea scares the shit out of me,’ Jane said. ‘And I’d like to discover if I was psychic earlier in life and what placed it in a box and threw away the key.”

  ‘As I said, you’re in denial. I can’t help you with that, Jane. That’s something you have to sort out for yourself.’

  Back in her own room Jane collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes. It’s not true, she told herself, but a small voice at the back of her mind, a voice unheard for many years, spoke softly to her and told her she was wrong.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jessica Anderson glided through the party guests, sheathed in a red satin dress cut to the bone. Her hair was swept up revealing a swan’s neck and showing off the Cartier earrings hanging from her delicate lobes. In her customary business suits she turned heads; dressed as she was to night she made jaws drop…and she knew it. A slight smile played on her lips as she moved through the crowd, acknowledging greetings from old friends and casual business acquaintances alike with a well-practiced response and a flirtatious flash of her tourmaline eyes.

  She reached the bar, set up in an alcove near a potted palm, and helped herself to a freshly poured glass of champagne. She looked over the top of the glass at the rest of the room. In the corner her father was deep in conversation with a young blonde actress whose Hollywood star was in ascendancy. She could tell from their body language that they would end up in bed together later. The idea that he took lovers younger than her was something she’d had to accept all her adult life. She still found it distasteful.

  She looked away and her gaze alighted on a woman, draped languorously on the grand piano just to the side of the French doors, watching the handsome young pianist hired for the night, stroking the keys and looking adoringly up at her. Celeste Toland had that effect on men, especially young men. Not bad for an old broad, Jessica thought. Celeste Toland was sixty, the same age as Carl Anderson, but looked twenty years younger. Whether her looks were the result of good genes or cosmetic surgery Jessica couldn’t say for certain, but she had a pretty good idea. Either way she was a very attractive woman. Tall and slender with a mane of fiery red hair, expertly styled to hover on the line between sophistication and wild abandon. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful, her features were too strong for that, but her liquid gray eyes were enticing beacons of seduction and few men could resist their allure, as witnessed by the piano player who was a nudge away from salivating.

  Her sexuality was a powerful and dangerous tool. She used it subtly but Jessica wasn’t deceived. She knew the other, darker side of the woman. Celeste Toland was a shrewd and cunning manipulator; a predator with a ruthless streak matched only by her own.

  Carl Anderson noticed his daughter’s presence in the room, peeled away from the starlet and made his way across to Jessica, a smile spreading across his face. ‘Jessica, you look stunning,’ he said, and kissed her on the cheek.

  Jessica looked from her father to the actress, who was helping herself to a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, trying desperately, and failing, to look demure.

  ‘That little slut has only one thing on her mind,’ Jessica said. ‘You can almost see the dollar signs flashing in her eyes.’

  ‘Yes I know, but she rather amuses me. You’ll indulge an old man in his weaknesses, won’t you?’

  ‘Don’t I always? But do they always have to be so young?’

  Anderson shrugged and spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

  Jessica glanced across the room again at Celeste Toland, who was peeling herself off the piano, eyes flashing looking for fresh diversions. She caught Jessica’s gaze and smiled warmly.

  Carl Anderson followed his daughter’s gaze. ‘I didn’t realize that bitch was here,’ he said. ‘Was she invited?’

  Jessica shook her head. ‘She came with Paul Forrester; she’s his escort for the night. I believe she moves in the same social circle.’

  ‘Yes, she does. She moves through mine too; like a shark on the lookout for an easy meal. I’ve told Forrester before to tread very carefully with her. She’d have him for a snack before breakfast, if she had a mind to. He obviously thinks he knows better.’

  She laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry about Forrester, Carl. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle the Celeste Tolands of this world.’

  Anderson looked doubtful. ‘I can’t handle the Celeste Tolands of this world, Jess, so I don’t hold out much hope for Forrester. He’s a very shrewd banker, but absolutely clueless when it comes to women. That’s why he’s been divorced three times.’

  ‘Perhaps he brought her here to try to impress you.’ Jessica raised her glass to a couple walking by, uncertain quite who they were.

  ‘Sleeping with an old whore like Celeste Toland is not the way to gain a whole lot of credit in my eyes. I can’t see why he’d want to impress me anyway.’

  Jessica laughed, almost innocent in its delight. ‘Then you’re obviously unaware of the reputation you have around town. I think a lot of men find the stories of your sexual prowess quite intimidating.’

  Anderson frowned. ‘I’m not sure I should be talking about my sexual prowess with my daughter,’ he said.

  ‘Does it make you uncomfortable?’ Jessica teased.

  ‘Frankly, yes, but then you have the same knack as your mother for putting me on the back foot. She was a remarkable woman as well.’

  ‘You miss her, don’t you?’ The smile had disappeared like ice in the sun.

  ‘Every day, Jess, every day.’ The regret in his voice was tangible. He usually hid it so well.

  ‘Go back to your starlet,’ she said. ‘Enjoy her.’

  ‘I go with your blessing,’ he said with a wry smile.

  Jessica sipped her drink and stood watching Celeste. She had turned her attention back to the piano player who was coaxing a r
eflective ballad from the Steinway. Then the woman turned abruptly, locked eyes with Jessica, smiled and raised her champagne glass, mouthing the words, ‘Study. Five minutes.’

  Jessica inclined her head to show she’d understood, drained her glass and picked up another. Without looking back she left the room.

  She was sitting in a leather wing-backed chair, nonchalantly flicking through a copy of Vogue when Celeste entered the study. She watched the older woman close the door behind her and turn the key.

  ‘Is that really necessary?’ she said.

  ‘A precaution. I wouldn’t want us to be disturbed.’ Celeste Toland came towards her, moving like water flowing downhill. Jessica put down the magazine and stood to greet her. Celeste’s arms enwrapped her body and her lips pressed against Jessica’s in a crushing kiss. When the embrace ended she took Jessica’s face in her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. ‘It’s been too long,’ she said.

  The kiss worked. Jessica’s body was tingling. Celeste Toland was one of the very few who could touch her on that level. ‘I agree,’ she said and kissed her again.

  It seemed to last an age, lips bruising, tongues tangling, Celeste’s hands on her breasts, kneading, her pelvis thrusting against Jessica’s leg like a bitch in heat.

  She peeled the dress from Jessica’s shoulders and let it drop to the floor, then reached behind her and eased down the zip of her own dress, shrugging herself out of it, letting it fall. She stood before her, naked, then brought her hand up between Jessica’s legs and stroked the small bush of pubic hair, savoring the moistness.

  And then Celeste laid Jessica down on the rug in front of the fireplace and made love to her.

  Jessica stepped into the pool of red silk lying on the floor and pulled it up over her body. ‘Zip me,’ she said.

  ‘Any news from the island?’ Celeste came up behind her and pulled up the zip, inclining her head and brushing Jessica’s naked shoulder with her lips, then she crossed to a small cabinet in the corner and poured herself a brandy. ‘Can I get you anything?’