Black Cathedral (department 18)

by L. H. Maynard

  Jane and Carter exchanged looks. No one in the room said a word. Bayliss continued.

  ‘Meyer returned to Rome. On the one hand the mission had been a success. DeMarco and his followers had been neutralized, so they were no longer a thorn in Pope Benedict’s side. But the mission raised more questions than it answered. Where had deMarco and his people gone? Would they one day reappear to cause more trouble? What had happened to the rest of the mercenaries? Had they all been killed, or had they joined with deMarco? And as for the man in the tree…well that was clearly the work of the Devil. Benedict wasn’t a happy man.

  ‘But that’s the end of that story. At least, that’s as far as my research has taken me. DeMarco and his followers never resurfaced. The German was sent home in some disgrace and he never worked for the Pope again. He apparently died a few years later in a small village just outside Dusseldorf, a broken man; haunted by nightmares.’

  ‘So what happened to Kulsay after that?’ Jane said.

  ‘Well the Catholics gave the place a wide berth and never set foot on the island again, but thirty years or so later a Presbyterian minister called McLeod led a group of settlers over here. They brought a few thousand sheep with them and turned the island into a fairly thriving farming community. They built the church, held regular services, and McLeod took over deMarco’s house and turned it into the Manse. For a number of years the place flourished. Until sixty years ago when the entire population vanished. Then nothing until the island was bought by the KDC.’

  ‘So this is the house deMarco built?’ Carter said, looking about the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Bayliss said nothing but nodded slowly.

  McKinley gave a low whistle. ‘And we’re stuck here. Isn’t that a pisser.’

  Jane stepped in. ‘Well, thank you for the history lesson, Mr. Bayliss, but I don’t see how it moves us forward. It’s just given us a few more mysteries to unravel,’ she said.

  Bayliss frowned at her. ‘You’re missing the point I’m trying to make,’ he said. ‘Before I came here you knew nothing about the island. You had no idea what you were up against. Now you do.’

  ‘DeMarco?’ She tried but failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

  ‘Exactly.’ Bayliss tapped his knee with his coffee mug as if to emphasize the point.

  ‘A man who died over three hundred years ago?’

  ‘I didn’t say he died. I said that when Meyer offered him life everlasting through God, he said he already had it.’

  ‘Yes, but obviously he was speaking figuratively.’ Jane looked at the others to gauge their reaction.

  ‘Do you know that for certain?’ Bayliss said. ‘Look, what’s been happening on the island isn’t just happenstance. I believe there’s an intelligence controlling events, and I believe that intelligence is Alphonse deMarco.’

  ‘It’s a bit of a stretch,’ Kirby said. ‘But okay. Let’s imagine for a moment that you’re right and by some means or other deMarco’s found a way to…to postpone death, where is he now, and what’s his motivation?’

  ‘I believe he’s still here on Kulsay. As for his motivation, take your pick. Revenge. Anger. Perhaps he wants to strike back at the Church. I don’t know for certain.’

  ‘I’m not convinced,’ Jane said. ‘I think you’re clutching at straws; trying to make the facts fit the circumstances.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Raj said. ‘I think our friend here is right on the money.’

  ‘Raj?’ Jane said. ‘Do you want to explain what you mean by that?’

  With a sigh Raj set his camera down on the table and stared across at her. He cleared his throat. ‘Ever since I arrived on the island I’ve sensed a presence. At first I thought it was the souls of the poor wretches who died here, but I opened up a little…not a lot, but enough to work out that, yes, there are troubled spirits here, but they’re just background noise. There’s another, much stronger presence. It’s controlling everything that happens here, and it’s controlling the other spirits on the island. He could be right,’ he said, pointing to Bayliss. ‘Why shouldn’t it be deMarco? I take it the rest of you are protecting yourselves?’

  No one said anything, but their collective silence answered his question.

  ‘No, that’s okay. You’re very wise. As I said, I only opened up a little, after Kirby had her vision. I wanted to know what was going on, so I dropped my defenses; only for a few seconds but, believe me, that was enough.’

  ‘What happened?’ Bayliss said.

  ‘I’m clairvoyant,’ Raj said. ‘I get flashes of precognition; ninety-five percent accurate I’d say.’

  ‘So you saw the future? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yes, with an error rate of about five percent.’

  ‘So come on then.’ Bayliss needled him. ‘What’s our future?’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’ Raj looked away.

  ‘But I do. And I’m sure the rest of them want to know as well.’ He looked about the room and saw from their faces he was right. Except for Kirby, who was shaking her head, a look of something close to terror in her eyes.

  Raj looked to Carter, Jane and the others. ‘Well? Is he right? You want to know our future?’

  ‘I don’t,’ Kirby said quickly.

  A few seconds later Jane said. ‘Go ahead, Raj. I think the rest of us want to know. Sorry, Kirby.’

  Kirby’s face settled into a frown and she turned her back on the group.

  Raj picked up the camera, rolling it over and over in his hands. It was a distraction, taking his mind off of what he was about to say next. He took a breath. ‘We haven’t got one,’ he said quietly.

  ‘What?’ McKinley said.

  ‘You heard me, John,’ Raj said.

  There was an edge of panic to Kirby’s voice. ‘You’re wrong, Raj. You must have made a mistake…misinterpreted…’

  ‘As I said, there’s a five percent chance. All I know is that when I looked forward, when I tried to see what lay ahead, there was nothing. A void. Just a black, gaping hole. We don’t have a future.’

  ‘No!’ Kirby shouted and stood, looking about the room, wild-eyed.

  ‘Kirby,’ Jane said. ‘Calm down. You’re…’

  She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. The window to her right exploded, sending a shower of glass across the room. Kirby cried out as needle-sharp splinters embedded themselves in her face. She threw her hands up to her eyes to protect them.

  In front of Raj his camera started to vibrate on the wooden table, then it flew across the room, smashing into the bookcase, lens and body separating, back springing open, a brown snake of film escaping and spiraling across the floor.

  Icy wind howled through the shattered window, billowing out the drapes, flapping them around like flags. The table started to rock violently. McKinley and Carter leapt from their seats and backed away from it, watching as the table lifted into the air and sailed across the room. Carter ducked as it flew over his head, crashing into the wall above the fireplace, smashing the large square mirror that hung there. More books launched themselves from the shelves, hurtling across the room, pages flapping like demented birds.

  Carter grabbed Jane by the arm. ‘Let’s get out of here!’ he yelled above the noise of the wind. He propelled her towards the door and yanked it open. McKinley and Bayliss followed close behind whilst Carter helped Kirby; she still had her hands to her face.

  ‘Hold on to me,’ Carter shouted in her ear. Kirby gripped his arm and Carter made his way across the room to the door, dodging the books that were now spinning in a vortex of wind.

  At the door Carter glanced back at Raj. He was standing in the center of the room, arms outstretched, an exultant expression on his face.

  Jane bustled past him, back into the room. ‘Raj!’ she yelled.

  Carter caught up with her and pulled her back. ‘Leave him!’

  She shrugged him off furiously. ‘ We can’t just leave him!’ she yelled back at him. She
took another step towards Raj, whose head swiveled to look at her. His eyes had rolled back into his head, showing only the whites, and his mouth opened. The sound that issued from his open mouth was louder than the wind, louder than the sound of crashing, splintering furniture. It was a scream, a howl, a roar; deafening in its intensity.

  Jane clapped her hands over her eyes. The sound seemed to penetrate her body, vibrating, making her bones ache. She sank to her knees, her legs unable to support her. A heavy leather-bound book detached itself from the vortex and flew at her, hitting her on the temple, knocking her sideways.

  Carter gripped McKinley by the arm. ‘Help me get her out of there!’

  The two men barreled into the room, arms up to protect their faces from flying debris. They grabbed Jane under the arms and hauled her backwards out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Simon Crozier picked up the phone, punched in the number and held the receiver to his ear.

  For a moment there was static, and then a mechanical female voice said, ‘The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.’

  ‘Dammit!’ he said and slammed the phone down. He looked at his watch. He’d been trying to reach Jane Talbot for the last hour without success. The landline was dead and her cell was either switched off or receiving no signal. He’d tried a few of the others on the island with the same result.

  The door to his office opened and Martin Impey entered holding a thin blue file. ‘I have the information you wanted,’ he said.

  ‘Information?’ Crozier was distracted. He was trying to decide whether to give Jane more time or to send a helicopter over to Kulsay to take them off.

  ‘The Sorority,’ Martin said, holding the file out in front of him. ‘Took some digging up.’

  Crozier gathered himself and went back to his desk. ‘Take a seat,’ he said. ‘And show me what you have.’

  Martin slid the file across the desk and waited while Crozier flicked it open and scanned through the pages.

  ‘Basically it’s a group of high-profile women who’ve banded together to perform charitable acts; hosting celebrity-studded luncheons, sponsoring music recitals, that kind of thing. I can’t really see why you’re interested in them. There’s nothing there to suggest there’s anything more to them than just a group of wealthy do-gooders with too much time on their hands.’

  Crozier closed the file, then opened it again and pulled out the list of the Sorority’s members. ‘Miranda Fry,’ he said. ‘How do I know that name?’

  ‘Sister-in-law of the last U.S. president. She was a bit of a wild child, then she married Sebastian Fry, head of Nexus Communications, and transformed herself, virtually overnight, into a born-again sophisticate.’

  ‘And Felicity Coleman?’

  ‘Widow of Mark Coleman, the astronaut who died in a plane crash back in the eighties.’

  ‘The other names mean nothing to me, except for Celeste Toland.’

  Martin sat forward in his seat. ‘Ah, now she’s interesting. If only for the fact that she has no history.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She came to prominence in the early 1980s when she bought out the Haver Corporation. Bought it lock, stock and barrel. But I can’t get a line on her in the runup to that. I found an entry for her in the 1963 yearbook at Priestley High School in Connecticut but after that nothing until twenty years later when she arrived fully formed on Wall Street and started making huge waves in the financial circles of the day.’

  ‘But there must be something to show what she was doing with herself for those twenty years. College? University?’

  ‘I agree, there should be something, but there’s nothing documented. Maybe she left high school and went abroad to further her education. If that’s the case, then it could take days to pick up her trail.’

  ‘At high school she was listed as Celeste Toland?’

  Martin nodded.

  ‘So that means she never married.’

  ‘If what you say about her relationship with Jessica Anderson is correct, then that’s hardly surprising, is it?’ Martin smiled the way men do when talking about women seemingly beyond them.

  Crozier grumbled something under his breath that Martin didn’t catch. Then he said, ‘Surely there was some press when she bought out Haver? There must have been a curious journalist out there anxious to know who this woman was, where she came from.’

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But I can find nothing, and I’ve trawled through every database I can think of. Why are you so interested in her anyway?’

  ‘I’m not…not her specifically. But the Sorority interests me greatly, and Jessica Anderson’s connection to it. This whole Kulsay Island thing has me rattled. I get the feeling the Department is being used and I don’t like that, I don’t like that at all.’

  ‘Have you heard from Jane? How are things going over there?’

  ‘I heard from her last night. Nothing today. I’m sure things are fine.’ He drummed his fingertips on the desktop. ‘Do another sweep and see if you can turn up anything at all on this Toland woman. Anything at all.’

  ‘But.…’ Martin started to protest.

  Crozier cut him off. ‘Just try; there may be something you’ve missed.’

  Martin got ready to leave the room. ‘It’s your call,’ he said. He was annoyed that his habitual thoroughness was being questioned.

  Crozier watched the office door close, then picked up the phone again. ‘Just answer the bloody thing, Jane,’ he said.

  ‘The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.’

  Crozier sighed and cradled the receiver. It could be nothing more than atmospherics blocking the telephone signals. It might be something altogether more sinister. Either way it was too early to send in a helicopter to airlift them off the island. Jane Talbot needed time to get to the root of what was happening on Kulsay, and she’d be furious if he overreacted and pulled the plug before she had some answers. He just had to be patient.

  But patience had never come easily to him. As a young man he’d been very much like Robert Carter; headstrong, impetuous. He’d been invited to join the Department by the incumbent director, Sir George Logan, but he and Logan had clashed many times over Crozier’s methodology. When the time came for Logan to retire the old man had tried to stop Crozier from succeeding him, but by that time Crozier had made some very influential friends in government and his appointment as Director of the Department was little more than a formality.

  The directorship tempered his more impulsive tendencies, and over the years he’d watched himself turn into a clone of Sir George Logan. It was a fact that irritated him intensely, but the behavioral traits were too embedded now for him to do much about it.

  He picked up the phone again and looked at it for a long moment, his fingers itching, anxious to punch in Jane Talbot’s number. With an effort of will he stopped himself, placed the receiver back on its cradle and swore savagely.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Jane’s head was throbbing. Blood trickled from the wound, tracing a crimson line down her cheek. Carter and McKinley were still holding her, but they had lain her down on the floor.

  She looked at them blearily. ‘Did Raj get out?’

  The two men exchanged looks. Jane read the message passed from eye to eye. She struggled to sit up. ‘You left him in there,’ she said angrily, shrugging her shoulders to free herself.

  ‘All that was Raj’s doing,’ Carter said, jerking his thumb at the closed door. He could still hear the wind whistling around the room and the splintering of furniture.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Raj’s not a physical medium. His powers are strictly mental.’ She got to her feet, impatiently wiping the blood away from her face.

  ‘John, you tell her,’ Carter said. He knew McKinley had been as vulnerable as he was to what was in the room.

  ‘He’s right,’ McKinley said. ‘He was controlling everything
. It must have affected him when he opened up to the forces in the house.’

  Jane glared at him. ‘Well I’m not going to abandon him.’ She reached for the door.

  Carter pulled her back.

  Jane spun on her heel and slapped him across the cheek. ‘Get your bloody hands off of me!’ she said and lurched for the door again.

  As her hand gripped the handle the noise stopped. The silence was almost as deafening.

  Jane took a breath and turned the handle. The door swung open.

  Raj sat on the floor in the middle of the floor, head bowed, one fist rammed into his mouth as if to stop himself from screaming. The library was devastated. Bookshelves were bare, the books themselves turned into confetti that littered every flat surface. Furniture had been turned into kindling, and the drapes, unmoving now, were shredded.

  Jane glanced back at the others. ‘Wait here. I don’t want to freak him out.’ She stepped into the room. Raj didn’t move, not even to raise his head to acknowledge Jane’s presence.

  ‘Raj,’ Jane said softly, then spun around, sensing someone behind her. ‘I said wait outside,’ she said to Carter who had followed her into the room.

  ‘Jane, I really think…’

  ‘Just get out of the room, Robert, and leave this to me.’ She said it quietly, but her tone left no room for argument.

  Carter’s shoulders sagged slightly in resignation and he returned to join the others.

  ‘Shut the door,’ Jane said.

  He looked back over his shoulder. The expression on his face said, I hope you know what you’re doing. Then he pulled the door shut behind him.

  ‘Have we got a live video feed to the library?’ he said to Kirby who was sitting on the floor, hands still clasped to her bleeding face.

  Kirby nodded.

  ‘Can you get it on your laptop?’ Carter’s voice was urgent; there wasn’t much time.