Lost Souls

by Seth Patrick

  Jonah thought of the shadow clinging to Torrance’s shoulder in the interrogation room. He didn’t relish the thought of laying eyes on it again, but he had to see Torrance’s face when he found out he’d been linked to the previous cases. He had to.

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he said.

  21

  Andreas Research Investment had thirty staff and took up the sixth floor of an office building near Dupont Circle. It was seven forty-five by the time they got confirmation from Mia Norwald that Torrance had attended both the conferences Jonah had identified. She herself had only been present at the Minneapolis one, but she was familiar enough with Torrance’s schedule to know about Denver.

  It was dark and cold as they parked in front of the building. Most of the windows above them were unlit but the sixth floor had a bright cluster at the far end, and a solitary light at the other, which hopefully meant people were still there.

  ‘We can’t be certain he’s here,’ said Bob. ‘Hopefully, he’s true to his word and came back to get some work done. If not, he lives out in Beltsville, so we’ll go there next.’

  The building entrance was locked, but a cleaner was running a floor polisher over the tiled entryway on the other side of the glass door. Bob held his badge to the glass and knocked hard until the cleaner noticed. He pointed at the door and the cleaner obliged.

  ‘Detective Crenner,’ said Bob. ‘You know if anyone’s still working on the sixth floor?’

  ‘I just finished up there ten minutes ago,’ said the cleaner, eyeing Bob cautiously. ‘There were a handful left.’

  Bob nodded and went to the elevator, Ray and Jonah following.

  They walked out into the sixth-floor vestibule just as a young man and an older woman came out of the floor entrance, which closed behind them. Bob held up his badge again. ‘Detective Crenner. Is Blake Torrance inside?’

  Both the man and the woman gave Bob a look Jonah recognized; the expression of wary interest people had if they weren’t used to encountering the police. ‘Yes, Detective,’ said the woman. ‘He’s the last one in the office now, so he’ll be locking up when he leaves. Is there a problem?’

  ‘We just need to talk to him. If you wouldn’t mind letting us inside.’

  The woman nodded. She had a security card on a chain around her neck and reached for it.

  The man beside her frowned. ‘Now hold on a minute,’ he said. ‘We can’t just—’

  ‘See this?’ said Bob, waving his police badge. ‘This says you can.’

  The woman swiped them inside and the pair hurried on to the elevator, not looking back. Bob had just been pushing his luck, Jonah knew, but it had worked, the pair washing their hands of the situation.

  Ray smiled, holding the office door open. ‘Guess they have somewhere better to be. Grab that for me, Jonah.’ He pointed to a fire extinguisher by the wall, which Jonah brought over and set against the open door to stop it locking again.

  Bob led the way. The offices by the entrance were brightly lit but empty; most of the rest of the floor was dark, the motion-triggered lights having timed out. The only other lit office was at the far end, and it had to be Torrance’s. As they walked, the motion-sensors triggered the ceiling lights along their path, flickering noisily into life one by one. They reached the office at the end. Blake Torrance sat at his desk.

  For an instant Jonah could see the darkness on the man’s shoulder again. The same ill-defined shapeless form, but this time there was something he could see more clearly. Under the shape, four long dark lines extended down over Torrance’s collarbone, like thin fingers.

  ‘You forget something, Jim?’ said Torrance, only looking up once he’d finished speaking. His relaxed expression dropped away. ‘Detectives,’ he said. ‘Can’t say I’m pleased to see you.’

  ‘We have more questions, Mr Torrance,’ said Bob, smiling. ‘If you wouldn’t mind coming with us.’

  Torrance stood. ‘God damn you people, I have too much to do. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’ He hurried past them out of his office, still complaining, leaving Bob and Ray wide-eyed and sharing a cautious look. They followed. Torrance headed a few doors down and turned left into a small canteen area. He went straight for a coffee vending machine and was punching buttons as they entered. A paper cup dropped down and started to fill.

  ‘No, it can’t wait,’ said Bob, slow and serious.

  ‘Then ask me what you want to ask,’ said Torrance. ‘Here and now. Everyone else has left, so we have total privacy.’ Torrance looked at Jonah, then back to Bob. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Mr Miller is a consultant on the case,’ said Bob. Torrance raised an eyebrow and said nothing. ‘You want to talk to us now, then that’s your decision. But it’s on record.’

  ‘Go ahead. The faster we clear this up, the better.’

  Bob shared a look with Ray, who nodded, taking his cell phone out of his pocket ready to record whatever Torrance said. Jonah understood the surprise he could see in the eyes of both detectives: Torrance was arrogant enough to think he didn’t need his lawyer.

  ‘Fine,’ said Bob. He nodded to the vending machine. ‘Dial up something black and strong for me and we’ll do it right here.’

  Torrance obliged and handed Bob a cup. They all sat, Ray placing his phone on the table in front of them, recording.

  Bob took a sip of the vended coffee and winced, setting down the cup. ‘Now, Blake. If I were to say Minnesota and Denver, what would you say to me?’

  Torrance’s cocky expression fell away in an instant. He rubbed at his shoulder, staring at Bob. ‘What did you say?’

  Bob smiled. ‘See, the look on your face right now, Blake – that tells me everything. Tells me you’re guilty as hell. Whatever your alibi for Mary Connart’s death, all I need is that look on your face and I know you’re in it up to your neck.’

  ‘I didn’t . . . I—’

  ‘Something else I can see in those eyes of yours, Blake. You really didn’t think we’d link them to you. Not even for a second. Now that we have, you have no idea what to do. Maybe there are other deaths, huh?’

  Torrance looked down, silent. Jonah could see he was trembling a little, his hand still rubbing his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ said Bob. ‘We’ll get you to the station again, Blake, and you’d better start telling us the how and the why. That, and who else is involved. Because whatever part you played, you sure as hell didn’t kill Mary Connart. Not in person.’

  Torrance stopped rubbing his shoulder. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked up, smiling. ‘Didn’t I, Detective?’ he said, dropping his hand to his side, his voice deep, slow and angry. ‘Oh, I killed her. I’d tell you how but you wouldn’t believe me.’

  It was an admission, but Jonah didn’t like the look Torrance was giving them. He didn’t seem hunted, suddenly. Quite the reverse.

  ‘Try us,’ said Bob. ‘Get it off your chest.’

  Torrance seemed to find that funny. He rubbed at his shoulder again. ‘It’s part of me now,’ he said. ‘Or am I part of it? I’m not sure. It’s not what I expected. I didn’t think I would find it so freeing.’ He smiled at the puzzlement on Bob Crenner’s face. ‘Nobody ever found the first three. It doesn’t take long for there to be almost nothing left. The ones that were found were the ones that were rushed or interrupted. I was lucky with them, though.’ He looked pointedly at the phone in front of him. ‘Sorry, you are getting all this, aren’t you?’

  Bob looked at Ray, concern on his face. Jonah wondered what was going through the detectives’ minds. ‘Tell me about Mary Connart,’ said Bob, steering Torrance while avoiding interrupting the flow of the man’s confession, however little sense it seemed to be making.

  ‘I was drunk and careless,’ said Torrance. ‘I thought I heard the woman talk about things she shouldn’t have known about, and I overreacted.’

  ‘Winnerden Flats,’ said Jonah.

  Torrance looked at him with narrowed eye
s but said nothing. He just looked back to Bob and continued. ‘I thought I should silence her, and do it quickly. I was cocky. Before, I’d been so much more careful. It was just an overreaction. All this fuss, for an overreaction.’ He shook his head. ‘I think some of the others must have suspected after Minneapolis, but they couldn’t know it was me. Until now. I wonder what they’ll do? They’ll be angry, I know that.’

  ‘The others?’ said Bob.

  Torrance ignored him. ‘I can look through its eyes if I want to,’ he said, his expression almost wistful. ‘It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. I wasn’t sleeping at the party, you see. I was watching. I closed my eyes and saw what it saw as it left me, as it followed her. I enjoyed doing that. I liked seeing the fear. It can be fun to watch it with your own eyes, too, let it run free and see what it does.’

  Jonah stared at Torrance’s shoulder. The shadow was beginning to form again, darkening with every second, its outline becoming more defined. The long downward tendrils he had seen earlier reappeared beneath, thickening. Jonah realized that it was his vision that was changing here, his ability to see something that had always been present. That wasn’t all: he could feel a terrible sensation of foreboding. ‘Bob,’ he said, ‘something’s happening . . .’

  ‘Well, Detectives,’ said Torrance. ‘Pleasant as this was, I think I’ll be getting along.’

  ‘You’re coming with us,’ said Bob.

  ‘Oh, you’re not leaving,’ said Torrance, standing up. ‘I have plans, and they involve me being very far from here, very soon.’

  Bob stood and stepped back from Torrance, drawing his gun. Ray did the same. ‘Stay right where you are,’ said Bob.

  ‘You don’t believe me?’ said Torrance. ‘We’ll see.’ The black tendrils were growing clearer and clearer, like dead, ancient fingers embedded deep within the man’s flesh.

  ‘Blake Torrance,’ said Bob. ‘You are under arrest for—’

  The fingers started to move, pulling out, ever longer, coming free now, coming free . . .

  ‘Bob,’ said Jonah.

  The lights went out.

  22

  The darkness was total.

  ‘Don’t move,’ said Bob, but Jonah heard Torrance rush for the canteen door. They heard the door shut; the sound of a lock turning. Then footsteps hurrying away.

  There was a click; Ray was holding a flashlight, minuscule but bright. He stood and went to the closed door and tested it. ‘Locked,’ he said. ‘It’s sturdy, but I think I could break it down.’

  ‘Hold on,’ said Bob, sounding shaken. He fumbled in his pockets until he produced his own small flashlight. ‘Call this in, Ray. He might be running, but he could easily have gone for a weapon. Let’s keep back from the door, keep our voices down. Jonah, you knew something was going on. What did you see?’

  ‘I don’t think he was alone. I think whatever killed Mary Connart was right here with us.’

  ‘Come on, Jonah,’ said Ray, swinging the flashlight towards him. ‘What the hell does that mean? The guy was rambling.’

  ‘I think he sent out whatever killed Mary,’ said Jonah. ‘Something dark, something that was always with him. Like a familiar. The moment Eugene Harding interrupted what was happening, Torrance sat up because it was him that Eugene had interrupted. Him, and the thing he was controlling.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ said Ray, without much conviction.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Jonah. ‘But I saw it, just now. On his shoulder. I saw it wake.’ Wake, he thought, and start to detach.

  ‘Call it in,’ said Bob.

  Ray took his cell phone from the table. He scowled and held it up higher. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘No signal. You?’

  Bob and Jonah both tried their phones. Nothing. They didn’t comment on it, but they were in the middle of the city and had no signal. It didn’t make sense.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Ray. ‘You think he’s running?’

  ‘No,’ said Bob. ‘He wasn’t confessing. He was boasting. Now, he’s waiting for something. He told us he wasn’t going to let us leave. He must have gone for a weapon. Jonah, take a position at the back wall. Stay down. Ray, I’ll cover you as you get the door open. Then we wait a little before I go out there. Got it?’

  ‘Got it,’ said Ray. He passed Jonah his flashlight.

  Jonah felt sick at the thought of the door opening into the absolute darkness of the corridor. ‘What if something’s out there? Some kind of guard?’

  ‘Jonah,’ said Bob, ‘if something’s out there, it can come in and get us any time. Positions.’

  Jonah switched off the flashlight and crouched behind some chairs near the coffee machine. Bob stood in the centre of the room, holding his flashlight to give Ray just enough light to see by.

  Then Jonah heard it. Something scuttled past him on the floor. He jumped to his feet and backed away.

  Bob had heard it too, and swung the light around. ‘What was that?’ he said.

  Jonah kept backing off. ‘It’s still in here,’ he said. He switched his flashlight back on and shone it around the floor, thinking of what Bob had said about Torrance: he must have gone for a weapon.

  He hadn’t needed to. The weapon was already in the room.

  They heard it again, a scuttling across hard floor, and this time Bob got the light over quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a small dark shape, long thin legs trailing as it fled under a table in the corner of the room.

  ‘Did you see it?’ said Jonah.

  Bob nodded. ‘Ray,’ he said, flashlight and gun aimed at the corner, ‘get the door open.’

  Ray took a kick at the door. Then another. At the third, it started to give. One or two more, and—

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ said Bob. Jonah looked back to the corner of the room to see the table Bob’s light was trained on tilt, then fall, as, underneath, there rose a dark shape that seemed to just swallow up the beam of the flashlight. The darkness unfolded rapidly, growing tall, thickening, a hulking mass the height of the room, visible in outline, arms outstretched.

  And now Jonah could see glints across the whole of the shadow mass, glints that moved, glistening shards that brought back Mary Connart’s last words.

  The shadow has teeth.

  The creature stood motionless as all three of them looked on in horror. Ray was the first to snap out of it, giving the door another desperate kick, but it still managed to hold.

  ‘Come on!’ cried Ray in frustration. The creature stepped towards him as he kicked again. The door finally swung open.

  Bob raised his gun and fired at the shadow: three times, without effect. The creature took slow strides in Ray’s direction and swept its arm out towards the man, seizing him, then throwing. Ray landed on the other side of the room, gripping his bloodied arm, face in agony and terror as the shadow turned and closed in on him.

  ‘No!’ shouted Jonah. It turned towards him and took a step in his direction. For a moment it stood still, and Jonah sensed that it was wary of him. Guns didn’t seem to concern it, but there was something about Jonah it didn’t like.

  He felt panic rising but he pushed back the fear; the terror that could bleed into him from revival subjects was something he had become used to suppressing. Pointing the flashlight at it, he moved towards the shape in the darkness, testing what his instinct was telling him.

  And the shape stepped away.

  ‘I’ll hold it back if I can,’ said Jonah, his voice trembling. ‘You two get out of here.’

  Bob moved to Ray and helped him up. ‘Then what?’ said Ray, eyes wide.

  ‘Find Torrance,’ said Jonah. ‘I hope to God he’s still here. Find him and make him stop this.’ If he can stop it, Jonah thought.

  Jonah stepped to his side, coming between the creature and the door as Bob and Ray rushed out. He could feel its gaze on him, and could sense its uncertainty. It came forward a little, then backed off again.

  His nerve was starting to fail, though. The shape stepped forward and paused. Too close
for comfort, Jonah stepped away from it. And it came forward again.

  ‘Bob!’ he called. ‘Hurry!’

  He was the one backing off now. The creature was still wary but it was advancing. Jonah moved out into the corridor and retreated towards Ray, who was propped against the wall thirty feet further on, blood pouring from the wound on his arm.

  Past Ray, Jonah could see the movement of flashlights at the far end of the building. He heard Bob shout Torrance’s name.

  Jonah shone his flashlight back along to the canteen door as the dark mass emerged and turned, seeing him. It waited for a moment. Jonah found enough courage to move towards it again, but this time the creature seemed to know the threat was an empty one.

  It came for him. Jonah held his ground. He raised his arms as behind him the shouting grew. He heard gunfire, but still the shadow drew closer, picking up speed. Three more strides at most, he thought. He braced and closed his eyes, dropping the flashlight, not wanting to see death bear down on him.

  But nothing happened.

  For a moment he thought it was standing over him, waiting, wanting its victim to see it before it struck; then he opened his eyes, grabbed the flashlight from the floor and swung it across the corridor.

  Nothing was there. He turned and saw Bob walk up from the far end of the office. They both converged on Ray.

  ‘Torrance?’ said Jonah.

  ‘Alive, for now,’ said Bob, holstering his gun. ‘He pulled a gun on me. I shot him twice. He’s unconscious.’ He looked around. ‘Where is it?’

  Jonah shook his head. ‘I think it’s gone.’

  ‘Fucking thing bit me,’ whispered Ray. ‘Threw me, but it felt like a bite.’

  With a thunk that startled all three of them, the lighting directly overhead flickered on. The rest of the corridor was still dark.