Roofworld

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by Christopher Fowler


  ‘How about in the window at Harrods?’

  ‘Nah, you don’t wanna start a fashion.’

  ‘Could be another shop-awning job.’

  ‘Been done before. I’ve got a better idea.’

  Half an hour later, anyone walking home through the city would, if they had taken the trouble to look up at the buildings surrounding them, have seen an extraordinarily grotesque sight. Jammed over the ornate metal clock which jutted from the wall of the Midland Bank near the Royal Exchange was a blackened red figure in the shape of a crouching man. High above the pavement it hung, growing from the spattered bloodiness of the surrounding wall, its glistening white jaw gaping wide to the sky like the foul figurehead of a ship crewed by the dying and the damned.

  Chapter 22

  Zalian

  ‘Take a look down there.’ Dr Nathaniel Zalian pointed over the side of the building. Taxis were pulling up in front of the Savoy to release their ballgowned and tuxedoed occupants as porters and doormen fussed around them. ‘Christmas in London. A time for revelry. The forecourt below is the only street in Britain where you have to drive on the right. Rather fits with the unreal atmosphere that surrounds the Savoy, don’t you think? As if you slip into a past world when you come within sight of the building. Over there now.’ The pointing finger moved in the direction of Charing Cross station. ‘You know what that is?’

  Robert looked over to the tall stone spire which stood in front of the station. ‘No, what?’

  ‘It’s a replica of the Eleanor Cross. The resting place of Edward the First’s Queen, before she was moved to Westminster Abbey. But nowadays the taxi drivers tell tourists that it’s the spire of a sunken cathedral, almost as if by fabricating the history of the area they’re in some way adding to it. And just along, you have the Strand.’ Zalian righted himself and dusted powdery concrete from his hands. ‘Of course, there were houses on this road as early as the twelfth century. Boswell used to have his shilling dinners at the chophouse here and paid sixpence to the whores who hung around Tom’s. In the 1890s there were more theatres in this street than anywhere else in London. Places like the Tivoli and the Gaiety…now there are just three. “Burlington Bertie walked up the Strand with his gloves in his hand….” ’

  He tilted his head back at the sky. ‘Now look at it. Smirking glass banks have replaced the timber-framed houses. For centuries, this was a residential street. Now it’s the same as everywhere else—an avenue of faceless multinationals, a concrete shrine to the power of the yen and the pound and the dollar.’

  He turned back to face them, ice eyes glittering in the shadowed gloom. Thoughtfully rubbing the blonde stubble on his chin, he drew closer. Rose could see now that the doctor was older than he first appeared to be. The blueness of his eyes seemed to be blurred with the disconsolate fatigue of a battle which had been fought hard and finally, irretrievably, lost. Robert wanted to question him as to the whereabouts of Sarah Endsleigh, but sensed that the time was not yet right to ask and elected instead to wait until the doctor had finished speaking.

  ‘Down there wealthy banks exist side by side with rundown rented apartments. Scurrying stockbrokers brush past out-of-work punks. Don’t you think it strange that two worlds can exist side by side, knowing nothing of each other, never touching?’ He flicked his head away, looking out at the glittering vista below. ‘Now to that picture add a third world, the Roofworld, up above the heads of rich and poor alike. That’s when you start to get an idea of the dreams we all had….’

  Zalian drifted off, as if forgetting that he was actually addressing someone. Away across the roof, his workers were clearing spaces by packing equipment into holdalls and stacking them. He silently studied them for a moment, then looked back at Robert.

  ‘After you’ve been up here for a while, you begin to gain some kind of perspective to your life. It comes from constantly imagining people on the ground as insects. You just have to watch them at night, wandering around in the filth of the streets, filling in the hours until work begins again. But for most of those with jobs, life is a dead end, like living in a room with a single window that looks out onto a brick wall.’ Rose wanted to interrupt, but one look at the almost fanatical gleam in Zalian’s eyes convinced her to stay silent.

  ‘And what about those who can’t find work? They still want all the things they’ve been taught to need. Most people’s fantasies extend no further than winning a vacation on a quiz show. Hardly their fault. Asked what they really want from life, few will be able to tell you, not because they don’t know but because they can’t find the words for it. The system doesn’t teach articulation.’ Anger coloured Zalian’s voice. ‘It shows them how they should want to live, but not how to be alive. Well, that’s not our world. It remains below, forsaken by us. Up here we share one thing in common—a hatred of their dehumanized existence on the ground. A hope that somewhere, life could offer something more than a gruelling fight to keep a job and make ends meet.’

  Robert threw Rose a cynical look, but she pointedly ignored it as Zalian concluded his speech.

  ‘This was a secret army which grew across the decades,’ he said, ‘developing its own rites and rituals.’ He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘And eventually it created the seeds of its own destruction.’ Robert looked up as a flotilla of clouds swept the edges of the moon. Zalian continued to talk in a soft monotone, half to himself. ‘But kids still turn to drugs and adults still lose their hope and, as the remaining lines of human communication break down, some of those people still come up here to us.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Rose. ‘If that’s the case, why are there so few of you now?’

  Zalian broke from his reverie and towered over the puzzled girl standing by him at the parapet. His disconcertingly blue eyes were difficult to look at for more than a few seconds at a time.

  ‘It doesn’t concern you,’ he said at length. ‘The less you know, the safer you’ll be. You’re here for one reason—to provide us with the information we need. I was expecting you, but I didn’t foresee that your arrival would be so late in the game.’

  ‘You were waiting for us?’ said Robert, disturbed. ‘I don’t get it. What could we do?’

  ‘Exactly what you did.’ Zalian shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘You brought us Charlotte Endsleigh’s notebook.’

  ‘You knew it was in our possession?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I still don’t get it,’ said Robert. ‘I mean, how did you know about it in the first place? And what made you think we would actually deliver it here?’

  ‘We don’t have time to go into this,’ said Zalian with a sudden urgency in his voice. Behind Rose, one of his men was making a series of bizarre hand signals which the others watched and began to obey.

  ‘Follow me back to headquarters and your questions will be answered later.’

  ‘No, you explain, or we’ll go back to the ground right now,’ said Rose firmly. ‘And we’re taking the secret of the book with us.’ She could see that Zalian was not a man of violence. There was an open honesty in his creased face which inspired trust. Still, for a brief moment, she thought that he was going to attack her. Then the tall blonde man seemed to reach a decision.

  ‘You already knew that Sarah Endsleigh was one of us.’ Zalian looked from one face to the other. ‘When she first joined, she told me that her mother was a novelist. One day I found out that Sarah had been telling her about the Roofworld….’

  ‘And you killed her mother just to stop her from publishing?’ asked Robert.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, boy. None of us laid a finger on her. We figured she was harmless, that even if she did manage to write a book about our life up here nobody would take it seriously. After all, she only knew a fraction of what really goes on.’ Zalian ran long, tanned fingers through his pale hair. ‘Then I discovered that Sarah had done a stupid, dangerous thing. She had told Charlotte about the New Age.’

  ‘What’s the “New Age”?’ />
  ‘The one subject she was sworn never to mention to outsiders. Sarah knew more about it than any of us. But she gave the information she had amassed to her mother instead of delivering it to me.’

  ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘I’m not sure. We knew that the notes had to be somewhere inside the old woman’s apartment because she hardly ever went out, so we decided to keep a watch on the building day and night. Suddenly we desperately needed the notebook for reasons of our own.’

  ‘Reasons you’d care to divulge?’ asked Robert.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just break in and turn the joint over?’

  ‘We attempted to, shortly after Charlotte was murdered, but she’—Zalian pointed at Rose—‘she made sure that the place was wired to the sky with alarms.’

  ‘So you kept watch…’

  ‘Hoping that someone would search the apartment again and turn up the book. We scared the hell out of some old woman who left with a pile of Charlotte’s belongings.’

  ‘The aunt,’ said Robert. ‘Then I conveniently came along and ransacked the place. But as soon as you saw that we had the notebook why didn’t you just take it from us?’

  ‘It was one of our men who attacked you in the alleyway behind Leicester Square,’ admitted Zalian. ‘I trust he didn’t hurt you.’

  ‘You could have saved yourself a lot of time and trouble simply by asking for the bloody thing,’ said Robert indignantly.

  ‘And would you have handed it over?’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘It was too risky staging a kidnap. You’ve been surrounded by people all the time you’ve had it in your possession.’

  Rose quickly felt inside her sweatshirt for the book. Locating the edge of its pages she gripped it tightly to her. ‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘We’ve read through the damned thing and it makes no sense. There’s no clue to the identity of Charlotte’s killer. What are you hoping to find out from it?’

  ‘If you want to stay alive for much longer, it’s better that neither of you know that,’ said Zalian, looking at his watch. ‘It’s time to leave. I’m afraid that you’re going to have to come with us whether you want to or not.’

  Chapter 23

  Attack

  ‘I can’t breathe.’

  ‘Well, loosen it a little. Come here.’ Rose unbuckled Robert’s line-belt and refastened it. All around them, people were dragging boxes across the roof and transferring their contents to small nylon bags. They were preparing to leave the roof of the Savoy and return to headquarters somewhere in the city. Zalian had left them in order to supervise the repacking of a small armoury.

  ‘It’s not the belt. It’s the thought of going out on one of those lines again.’

  ‘You did it once without any problem, you can do it again. There.’ Rose stood up and stretched. She and Robert were both now wearing shapeless black jumpsuits, rather like one-size factory overalls, although hers seemed to fit a lot better than his. They had been fitted with belts by the sullen young girl who had appeared earlier at Zalian’s side. Her name was Spice and she seemed to resent their ready acceptance into the group. Robert glanced at his watch. It was almost 11.30. ‘This isn’t right. It’s past my bedtime. I should be at home, decorating the tree.’

  ‘You bought a tree?’ asked Rose. ‘You go to church at Christmas, all that stuff?’

  ‘No, the tree’s one of those folding plastic ones.’

  ‘Yes, I figured it would be,’ she said, glancing down as she adjusted the clips of her jumpsuit.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Just that we’re different people, Robert.’

  He released a low growl of irritation. Looking at Rose now, he recognized the type all too well. She was one of those women who saw themselves as romantic and free spirited, while all the time putting men down as emotional cripples. Well, he thought, we’ll see who comes running to whom before this thing is through.

  At the edge of the roof, seven or eight men and women were stacking bags. Altogether there were more than fifteen people working up here, yet virtually no sound came from them as they carried out their designated tasks. There was a light clatter of metal as someone fired a line to another building.

  ‘I wouldn’t trust Zalian as far as I could throw him,’ said Robert as he slipped a line-gun into his back pocket. ‘He has a disconcerting habit of walking away just when you want him to explain something.’ He twisted the line-gun around until it fitted snugly. ‘I hope this bloody thing doesn’t go off by itself when I bend over.’

  ‘It’s got a safety catch, remember?’ said Rose. ‘If you don’t stop worrying so much you’ll give yourself an ulcer.’

  ‘Worrying?’ muttered Robert. ‘What have I got to worry about, apart from staying alive. Christ, it’s freezing.’

  ‘You’re supposed to clip up the top of the jacket like this.’ She pointed to her own suit. Behind Robert, there was a whisper of cable as the first group left the roof of the Savoy. Rose turned to watch as they vanished over the side of the building.

  ‘That’s why they moved strangely when I saw them that night in Regent Street. They were transporting equipment. Don’t see any dog, though.’

  The young woman called Spice climbed onto the parapet in preparation for launching herself off on one of the newly established lines. She reached down and scooped up a huge sack of equipment in her free arm, looking back at Zalian as she did so. One of the men was carrying what looked like a tripod.

  ‘I wonder what that’s for?’ said Robert. ‘I guess if they’ve been living up here for so many years they must have developed a special tool for just about everything.’

  ‘…Except for fighting,’ said a voice behind them. They turned to find Zalian standing alongside watching the departure of the others. ‘We never had need of weapons until now. We’re too exposed here and there are too few of us to risk losing any more. It’s common knowledge that we use the Savoy roof in times of emergency. We must return to headquarters.’

  The last of Zalian’s crew swung away from the roof. The pile of equipment had been divided up and removed. Only the three of them now remained. Zalian scooped up two small boxes and handed them to Robert and Rose. ‘Keep these in your supply bags. They contain medical aids. Up here you never know when you’ll need them. We should be going.’ Zalian’s eyes fell to Robert’s jumpsuit. ‘You have the notebook on you?’

  If he tries to snatch it from me, thought Rose, he’s in for a fight. Robert seemed to read her mind and was careful not to let Zalian see which of them was in possession of it. ‘Wait a minute, Zalian. This “exchange of information” seems to be a little one-sided. You get the book after you tell us where Sarah Endsleigh is.’

  ‘You’re a fool, boy,’ said Zalian tiredly. ‘I could have taken it from you in a second and have had both of you tossed over the side.’ Despite the threat, he made no move forward. He’s bluffing, thought Rose. Maybe he doesn’t know where Sarah is either. Slipping her hand back into the top of her jumpsuit she laid her palm across the dark-blue cover.

  ‘Tell us where we can find the girl and the notes are yours,’ said Robert rashly. His newly acquired street credibility had obviously gone to his head. At this precise moment he no longer cared about securing his book rights, for he had been granted a glimpse of a genuine mystery, and now he wanted to see more.

  ‘I can’t tell you that,’ said Zalian finally. ‘I need the book to discover Sarah’s exact whereabouts. We have reason to believe that it contains information which will lead us to her, as well as others who are being held captive.’

  ‘Then we’ll work together on it.’

  ‘No! There’s an evil around us, something far too dangerous for you to know about. From the moment they know of your involvement, I can no longer keep you alive.’

  ‘You mean you’re protecting us right now?’ asked Rose.

  ‘You have no comprehension of the forces at work here. I was
a fool to even let them bring you up.’ Zalian cocked his head to one side. He turned, slowly searching the nearby rooftop for something, a scuffle of sound, a blur of movement in the encroaching darkness.

  ‘They’re coming,’ he hissed. ‘We’ve left it too long. Hand me the book, then get out of here quickly.’

  Behind them the ping of a cable sounded, then the clatter of metal on brick. Robert held his position as Rose moved closer to his side.

  ‘You must give the book to me, then forget all of this ever happened. Knowledge of us can only bring you harm!’ Zalian reached out his hand to take the book.

  Robert reached into his jumpsuit, then suddenly withdrew his hand and pushed him as hard in the chest as he could before breaking away into a run. Zalian was caught off balance and slipped on the gravelled asphalt. Rose screamed, but caught up at Robert’s side.

  ‘You’re fools!’ shouted Zalian. ‘I’m trying to save your lives!’

  ‘Robert, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ shouted Rose. ‘He’s trying to help us!’

  ‘You ready for this?’ asked Robert breathlessly. ‘It’s a long drop.’ Together they ran to the side of the building and fastened their lines to the already strung cables leading away up the Strand. Against her better judgement, Rose pushed Robert out first so that she could keep an eye on him, then released herself on the line a few yards behind. As she pushed out, she turned to see Zalian closing fast behind them as a number of shadowy figures appeared beyond.

  ‘Dr Zalian!’ she shouted hoarsely. ‘Behind you! Look out!’ Zalian turned and faced the racing figures as the first of their poisoned missiles whistled past his ears. He reached the side of the building further along, leapt over the edge and dropped onto a line.

  Rose reached the wall of the next building. As she detached the line and jumped onto the roof one of the razor-sharp projectiles bounced over the sole of her left boot, neatly slicing the leather. Behind her, Robert slammed into the wall, misjudging the distance. She helped him to clamber over the parapet, praying as she did so that the coin had failed to cut her skin.

 

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