by Sue Tingey
‘Well, whether he meant to or not, you’ve been given a clue to Amaliel’s intentions,’ Jamie said.
‘What are you thinking?’ Kerfuffle asked him.
‘Jinx knows the score; he knows the other Guardians and I will be coming for him. He’ll hang on as long as he can.’
For that, I had no answer. Plagues of locusts and rivers of blood were bad enough, but if Amaliel made Jinx kill every firstborn in the whole world? I didn’t think I could live with it if we didn’t somehow save him in time.
As soon as the tablet and phones were charged, we set off. Since Philip had been approached in London – well, that’s if he’d been telling the truth about that – we thought we’d start there. And we thought it logical that if Amaliel planned to do something awful, he’d do it in a major city where millions would be affected.
*
It was still dark when we left the cottage.
‘Wow, it is big, isn’t it?’ I said, looking at the dark red eight-seater MPV Jamie had procured for us.
‘You don’t have to drive,’ he replied.
I hesitated for a moment. A few months ago if he’d suggested I even drive to London, let alone in such a huge vehicle, I’d have had an anxiety attack. I’d loathed driving … but now, I realised I’d changed.
‘I’ll drive,’ I heard myself say, and held out my hand for the keys.
‘You hate driving.’
‘That was then,’ I told him, ‘but if you want a go, you can take over when we reach the M25.’
‘Still scared of driving on motorways?’ Jamie couldn’t quite hide the superior amusement in his voice.
‘No,’ I snapped, ‘but I’ll very likely be distracted by the number of dead I’ll see – there’s a reason they call it the road to Hell.’
He had the grace to look slightly ashamed of himself, but even so, I could see he didn’t want to hand over the keys – he really liked to drive, and I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I didn’t need to be any angrier with him than I already was.
So I climbed into the front passenger seat, and Pyrites jumped onto my lap. Neither Vaybian not Kubeck had been in a car before, and despite our morose moods, Vaybian’s wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression as we hurtled down the country lanes did make me crack a small smile. When we hit the motorway, I glanced back at him. I thought his knuckles were about to shatter, he was holding onto the armrests so tight.
Shenanigans and Kerfuffle sat comfortably in the back row. The MPV might not have been my normal choice of transport, but it was perfect for me and my guards – even Shenanigans had enough legroom.
‘Where do we start once we get to London?’ I asked after a while.
‘Maybe we should pay a visit to Philip Conrad’s offices? They probably have a record of who he met and where. The police got the information about his meetings with you from somewhere.’ Jamie glanced across at me. ‘Can you think of anything Philip ever said to you that might lead us to whomever was using him?’
‘He told me so many lies, so who knows?’
‘Think about it.’
I concentrated on remembering all that Philip had told me. ‘Originally he told me he’d been to see a bokor in South London to ask for help in finding his daughter, but that was a lie, part of the story to make me feel sorry for him. Later, at the golf course, he told me he’d met a man at a party who had introduced him to the bokor.’
‘What did he tell you about this man?’
‘The bokor?’
‘No, the man who introduced them.’
I thought back, trying to remember: it was right after Philip had been telling me about this man that the pond we’d been sitting by had erupted upwards in a blood-red fountain and the daemon Argon had appeared to carry me away with him; understandably what had happened just beforehand had blurred into insignificance, until now.
‘He said he was waiting for his coat when he and this man – I think he said he was an American – got talking.’
‘An American?’
‘Hmm.’ I visualised me and Philip walking up to the walled garden and Philip pulling open the gate as he spoke, and suddenly recalled his words. Out loud, I said, ‘I’d never seen the man before – I would have remembered him if I had. He was tall and slim and looked a bit like a young Barack Obama. He even had a slight American accent.’
‘Did he have a name?’ Jamie asked.
I remembered us sitting down on the bench. ‘His name was Joseph.’
‘And it was this man who introduced him to the bokor?’
‘Well, that’s what he said, but who knows – the man could lie for England.’ I nearly added ‘a bit like you really’, but bit my tongue; no good would come of me sniping at him.
‘If Philip met this man, there’d be a note of it in his office diary.’
‘I’m not sure I’d want anything in my diary to suggest I was going to meet with a bokor,’ Kayla said over my shoulder.
‘Philip said this Joseph was in Britain on business, that he was meeting a man who could make him a major player. I suppose that’s how he sucked Philip in. I suspect he made it all sound quite legitimate to start with.’
Jamie kept his eyes on the road. ‘That’s the way it usually works: choose your subject, preferably someone ambitious and greedy, then gradually reel them in until they’re in so deep they can’t – or don’t want to – get out.’
I got goosebumps as I remembered Philip dangling from Lord Argon’s talons. ‘I still can’t understand how anyone would be so stupid. Making deals with daemons is only ever going to end in tears.’
I heard chuckling from behind me, and Kerfuffle began to giggle. ‘What?’
‘If you haven’t noticed, every single one of us in this vehicle is a daemon – including you,’ Jamie pointed out with a smile.
‘Half-daemon,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m half-daemon!’ But he was right, of course. ‘What I meant was, if you make a deal with that sort of daemon.’
‘Like if you make a deal with that sort of human: a crime lord, a drug dealer, a corrupt businessman,’ Jamie said.
He was right. human or daemon, there was good or bad in all of them. Fortunately for me, I was in with the good crowd – although if Jinx unleashed his powers upon this world, there’d be some who might not see it that way.
*
We had some good luck to start with, hitting the M25 before it got too busy; even so there were plenty of cars out and about, and lots of huge lorries lumbering along. It was growing light, but the misty, murky morning was doing nothing to lift my mood. I was impatient as well as anxious and the journey felt like it was taking for ever. I watched the road ahead as Jamie changed lanes expertly, with the confidence of a man who’d been driving all his life. It was strange, really; I had belonged to this world, and I had never driven with such assurance.
Then a small blue family car swerved in front of us in a last-minute manoeuvre, making me flinch and Jamie brake.
‘Is there nothing you can do for them?’ Kayla asked from over my shoulder.
I watched the blue car and its four occupants speed off into the distance: sad casualties of the M25. They’d no idea that they had died. No doubt they would be driving around and around the motorway for ever …
I shook my head as the car vanished into the distance. ‘Not unless we catch them up.’ But it was too late, they were long gone already.
Then a thought occurred to me and I turned to Jamie. ‘How can you see the dead of this world but you still can’t see Kayla?’
‘I suppose because she’s a spirit from our world? Sorry, I don’t know all the answers.’
We went back to staring silently at the road ahead, until he said, ‘Time to dig out your mobile and google Philip Conrad to find out where his offices are.’
A few taps on the screen later and I had the address and a map of the location in Docklands.
*
The building was exactly what I’d expected: swanky, with a car park out front. Jamie pulled int
o the only empty space – it didn’t come as any surprise to see a plaque on the wall telling us the parking bay was for the exclusive use of Mr Philip Conrad.
‘It’s probably best you stay here,’ he told me.
‘Why?’ I could feel myself bristling.
‘Because they’ll almost certainly recognise you from the newspapers,’ he said. ‘Also, I’m quite sure what I’m about to do is illegal.’
‘What are you about to do?’ I asked in alarm.
‘Impersonate a police officer.’
‘Jamie, policemen don’t wear jeans and hoodies, at least not when the—’ I didn’t get to finish as the air around us rippled and Jamie was suddenly dressed in a navy suit, white shirt and navy and grey silk tie.
‘Wait here,’ he said, opening the door and climbing out. ‘I won’t be long.’ With that he slammed the door shut and walked across the car park.
‘He scrubs up well, doesn’t he?’ Kayla commented as we watched him stride up the steps to the main entrance.
‘Hmm,’ I said, but my attention had shifted from his receding back to the two construction workers he’d glanced at as he passed them on the steps. One was pouring tea from a flask into a mug his mate was holding as they laughed and chatted. I undid my seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
‘Mistress, where are you going?’ Kubeck asked.
‘The Guardian said for you to stay here,’ Vaybian added unnecessarily.
‘There’s something I have to do,’ I said, opening the door. I could hear my guards beginning to argue, but I ignored them, shifted Pyrites onto Jamie’s seat and hopped out.
One of the workmen saw me coming and pushed back his hard hat. Even in death he was still very good-looking: dark hair curled upon his brow and his dark blue eyes twinkled. He nudged his friend. ‘Things are looking up,’ he said with a soft Irish burr.
His friend glanced my way and his smile widened. ‘Well, hello, pet – what can we be doing for you this fine day?’
A Geordie and an Irishman, both a long way from home, and sorely missed, I’d bet. ‘Why are you still here?’ I asked.
They exchanged a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The construction’s finished.’
They both peered up at me as if I was mad – and then looked back over their shoulders at the building rising up behind them. Their expressions became confused as it slowly dawned on them that they were no longer on a construction site.
‘What the hell …?’ the Geordie lad said, getting to his feet.
His mate joined him. ‘How can this be?’
‘What’s the last thing you remember?’ I asked.
‘Remember?’ The Irishman looked puzzled.
‘The last day you worked – what do you remember about it?’
They exchanged a glance. ‘Last night, it was raining,’ the Geordie said.
‘It’s always bloody raining,’ the other guy said, laughing. ‘It hardly ever bloody stops.’
‘That wasn’t last night,’ I told them, gesturing up at the building.
‘I don’t understand,’ the Geordie boy said. ‘We were running way behind schedule – last night there wasn’t even a roof on it, was there, Sean?’
‘That’s why we were still working, long after we should have finished for the night.’ His laughing blue eyes lost some of their sparkle and a frown creased the middle of his forehead. ‘We were working late and …’ His head jerked around to look at his friend. ‘Fuck! There was an accident—’
‘Accident?’ his friend said, and I could see the realisation slowly dawning on them both that all was not quite as it should be.
‘You slipped, and I grabbed for you and …’ His eyes met mine. ‘I tried to hold onto him, but he began to slip, and as I tried to drag him back I fell too.’ He looked down at his body and held up his hands as though seeing them for the first time. His body wasn’t solid; there was a translucence to it.
I gave them an encouraging smile. I might not have been able to help the family on the motorway, but I could do something for these two men. I closed my eyes for a moment and concentrated on opening the gateway to the other side, praying it would work the same way in this world as it did in the Underlands. The air grew heavy and it felt stormy, the atmosphere crackling with electricity. I opened my eyes and a bright speck of light appeared just below them on the steps, a narrow rod of gold spearing down onto the brickwork. The dot became a split and the rod became a swathe, then the split became a tear and the tear opened up into a hole filled with glowing light.
‘Oh sweet baby Jesus,’ the Geordie lad whispered, taking a step back.
‘There’s no need to be afraid.’
‘What’s happening?’ he asked, his eyes flicking to me, then the light and back again.
‘It’s time for you to leave.’
He started to shake his head as he stumbled away from the light. ‘This isn’t right. This isn’t right.’
The Irish guy, Sean, tentatively stretched out his hand, allowing the light to caress his fingertips. ‘It’s warm,’ he said wonderingly.
‘Get away from it – it’s not natural—’
Sean looked at me. ‘We’re dead, aren’t we?’
‘I’m sorry.’
He looked down at his feet, concentrating, trying to take it in. ‘How did I not know? I saw him fall – I felt myself fall.’
‘Maybe you just didn’t want to believe it,’ I told him.
His attention turned back to the light. ‘Is this the way?’
‘Yes,’ I told him. A huge lump was forming in my throat.
Sean reached up, took off his hard hat and threw it to the ground, his lips curling into a broad smile. ‘Come on, Jacky, lad. Can’t you hear the angels?’
Jack still didn’t look so sure, but his friend stepped into the light and began to laugh as he turned a full circle, bathing in the golden rays. ‘Come on,’ he said, reaching out his hand.
Jack took a step towards him, then another; his expression of fear slipping away until he too stood in the golden light. He took hold of his friend’s outstretched fingers. I could hear laughter and voices calling to them from beyond the gateway and the two men took that final step and crossed over to the other side. Glowing figures surrounded them, welcoming them home, and for a moment the entrance glowed as bright as the midday sun.
Then with a crack it sprang shut and was gone.
Kayla appeared by my side. ‘Do you think daemons and humans go to the same place?’
‘It looked and sounded the same, but I don’t suppose we’ll really know until it’s our turn.’
She stood there for a moment looking at where the gateway had been. Her expression was a little wistful.
‘You can go you know,’ I told her. ‘I’ll help you cross if you want.’
‘No,’ she said, with a toss of her scarlet and emerald curls, ‘I’ll not leave you – at least not until I know you have your Deathbringer back safe where he belongs.’
‘That could take a long time,’ I said, my shoulders sagging with the enormity of the task ahead. ‘He could be absolutely anywhere.’
Kayla tapped her bottom lip with her forefinger. ‘It’s true that Amaliel isn’t likely to make it easy for you.’
‘Kayla, what am I going to do? What if I can’t find him in time?’
‘You’ll find him.’
‘But what if we don’t? What if he’s already started to kill people?’
‘Let’s hope Amaliel is going for dramatic effect and doesn’t start straight off with the Black Death and the like; he’ll go for plagues of bugs, boils, storms and tempests, most likely.’
‘That’ll be bad enough – a plague of locusts in the right place could destroy a country’s economy.’
‘I doubt Amaliel is interested in economies; he wants souls.’
I got back into the car to wait for Jamie. I really hoped he had some good news.
Six
Jamie was gone for such a long time I
started to wonder if the people in Philip’s office had smelled a rat and called the police. The building wasn’t surrounded by police cars, which did give me some cause to hope that this wasn’t so, but you could never tell. What if police officers were already inside asking questions when he bowled in? I glanced around at the other cars in the car park: two BMWs, an Audi, a Mini and a VW. None of them were obvious police cars – but did detectives use their own? On the telly they did.
Then the glass door swung open and Jamie came striding out, a manila folder tucked under his arm. He climbed in and handed me the folder
‘Well?’
He put the key in the ignition and smiled, showing teeth. ‘I have a surname for Joseph and the address of the company he supposedly works for.’
‘What’s all this?’ I asked, holding up the folder.
‘Philip’s secretary was very helpful. She photocopied several pieces of correspondence between Philip and Joseph and all the newspaper cuttings from when Philip’s wife was murdered and his daughter disappeared. She also copied all his diary entries for around those dates and in the run-up to his meeting you.’
‘Anything interesting?’
Jamie started the engine. ‘I have the address of Philip’s London apartment and a key to get in.’
‘How did you get a key?’
‘I asked for it.’
‘And she gave it to you?’
Jamie smiled at the windscreen as he negotiated his way out of the car park and onto the street. ‘I told you she was very helpful.’
‘How come she had a key anyway?’
Jamie glanced my way and smirked.
‘I always said Philip was a shit,’ Kayla said from behind me. I looked back over my shoulder, puzzled, and she rolled her eyes. ‘You are so naïve at times.’
Then the penny dropped. ‘Philip was having an affair with his secretary?’
‘Not so much of an affair as he was using her for sex whenever he was in town and his wife wasn’t.’
‘Was she stupid or what?’ Kayla grumbled.
‘Anyway, she was rather disgruntled about how he treated her,’ Jamie added. ‘Especially when she heard about you.’
‘Not totally stupid, then,’ Kayla commented.
