Cold as the Grave

by James Oswald

  ‘Thanks for letting me know. I take it this happened fairly recently.’

  ‘About an hour. I would have called sooner, but I had to deal with the nurses preparing his body for the mortuary. They had a bit of a shock when they undressed him.’ Doctor Wheeler paused a moment before speaking again. ‘To be honest, Tony, so did I.’

  ‘How so?’ McLean asked the question even though he feared he knew the answer.

  ‘We knew Winterthorne had been in a plane crash and somehow miraculously survived. He had impressive scars from burns and other injuries all over his body when he was brought in, but they were old, healed. I don’t doubt they caused him pain and might explain his distrust of doctors.’

  ‘He really didn’t want to go to hospital at all.’ McLean recalled Winterthorne’s last words, the weak hand clutching at his shoulder. Was he in some way responsible for the man’s death? No, that wasn’t a helpful way to think. ‘What was the problem that had the nurses so spooked, then?’

  ‘It was his skin, Tony. I swear I’ve never seen anything like it. Alive, it was like paper. You could see his veins and sinews through it. Half an hour after he died, you’d have thought he was some kind of ancient Egyptian mummy.’

  ‘She’s on her way. Just had a call.’

  Billy McKenzie met them in the downstairs hallway of Inchmalcolm Tower. He looked scruffier than McLean remembered him, as if he hadn’t slept properly since the last time they met.

  ‘You remember DC Harrison?’ He nodded at the detective constable by way of introduction. Neither of them had said much after Doctor Wheeler’s call. There wasn’t much they could say. Nothing seemed to make sense any more.

  ‘Aye. I think so.’ McKenzie didn’t sound all that sure. ‘Youse want to come on up then? Folk get a wee bit nervous if the polis are hanging around down here.’

  ‘Are we that obvious?’ McLean asked as he followed the young man to the lift.

  ‘Aye.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Well, youse are. It’s the suit, ken?’

  McLean had to admit the young man had a point. He’d bought tailored suits in the past, the sort of thing a financier or businessman might wear, but they didn’t fare well at crime scenes. It was less painful to bin an off-the-peg number from Marks & Spencer than something that had cost more than the likes of Billy McKenzie earned in a handful of months.

  ‘When did Rahel call?’ he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

  ‘No’ long before I called youse. She needs help and she’s no’ getting it from her ain folk. No’ like there’s any of her ain folk left, mind.’

  ‘How do you mean? I thought there were a group of them working in the sandwich factory.’

  The lift arrived with a ping, and McKenzie didn’t answer until the three of them were inside, headed upwards. ‘Aye, they did. I got a call from that Mr Boag a couple days back though. Ken how he sacked me when he sacked Rahel? Well no’ long after that the whole lot of them just didnae show up for work. Desperate, he was. More an’ more orders coming in and nobody to make the sandwiches.’

  ‘You went back then?’

  ‘No. I told him to fuck off. Got another job anyways, aye?’

  McLean was going to ask him what that job was, but the lift arrived at their floor and the door opened with a loud ping. Even before he’d stepped out into the corridor he could see the two figures standing at the far end. Rahel was holding Nala by the hand, and they both turned to see what had made the noise.

  ‘Stay here.’ McLean held out his hand low to stop Harrison from following him. Even at a distance he could see the angry stare Rahel was sending their way, but it wasn’t directed at him so much as McKenzie.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t tell anyone.’ She spat the words out like they tasted of poison. McKenzie took a step forward, but McLean stopped him too. The only way out of the corridor was behind them into either the lift or the stairwell, unless one of the other flats whose doors opened onto the corridor let them in. He wanted Rahel on his side, but right now he imagined she would feel trapped.

  ‘Don’t blame Billy. I pretty much forced him into calling me as soon as you got in touch. We need to talk, Rahel. You’re not safe. You and Nala both.’

  ‘Nowhere is safe. Not for me, not for Nala. They killed Akka. Used her and then threw her away like trash.’

  ‘I know that, Rahel.’ As McLean walked slowly towards them, he noticed the heavy coats both she and Nala wore, the thick woollen gloves. Had Madame Rose given them those? ‘We’re very close to finding out who did that to her. We will catch them and punish them for it.’

  ‘Will you kill them?’ Rahel’s question was heavy with disbelief.

  ‘That’s not our way.’

  ‘Then why should I trust you?’

  ‘Because at the end of the day you’ve got to trust someone. Even if just a little.’ McLean had covered most of the distance now, just a couple of paces between him and the two refugees. He stopped walking, held his hands out slightly to indicate that he meant them no harm. ‘We want the same thing, you and me. We want the evil destroyed.’

  ‘It cannot be destroyed. Nothing can touch it. The others, they try to appease it. Even give their children to it.’ At this, Rahel pulled Nala tighter to herself. The little girl still stared at McLean with those piercing green eyes of hers, but remained silent.

  ‘So you’re going to run from it, is that what you’re going to do?’ McLean stepped to one side, turned and indicated the corridor, the lift, the stairs. DC Harrison and Billy McKenzie. ‘Where are you going to run to?’

  Rahel let out something that sounded half a laugh and half a sob. She sniffed, wiped her nose with the sleeve of her coat. ‘I wanted to go back to the circus. They were kind to me there, said I could stay with them if I wanted. They weren’t afraid of the evil. Knew how to deal with it. We would be safe there, Nala and me. But when we got there, it was gone.’

  The anguish in Rahel’s voice was enough to break the hardest of hearts. All the horror and fear, the desperation and hope first raised then cruelly dashed were like a curse visited a thousand times upon her family, the sick revenge of some ancient, twisted, mythical sorcerer. She sunk slowly to the floor, hugging Nala into an even tighter embrace, and this time the sobs weren’t mixed with cynical laughter.

  ‘Hey, hey. It’s no’ that bad, Rahel.’ McKenzie pushed past McLean, then knelt down and put his arms around her and the little girl. He said something to them McLean couldn’t quite hear, then stood up again, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.

  ‘Come on. Let’s all go in, aye?’ He slid a key into the lock, twisted it once and pushed on the door at the same time as McLean noticed a smell that hadn’t been there before. A mixture of sweet perfume like crushed flower petals and a deeper, more animal musk.

  ‘Wait!’ He knew as he shouted the words it was too late. McKenzie’s hand was on the door handle, ready to push it open, but something pulled it hard from the inside and he disappeared through the doorway with a frightened scream.

  59

  McLean moved without thinking, springing forward to where Rahel and Nala stood outside McKenzie’s doorway, frozen in shock and surprise. The noise coming from the small apartment was like cats fighting, a high-pitched yowling that sent a chill through his spine. Fighting back the visceral terror, he wrapped his arms around the young girl and her aunt, pushed them away towards the lift.

  ‘Harrison. Get them out of here. Go!’

  Something in his voice, or maybe just his touch, broke their paralysis. Rahel hauled Nala by her hand, running down the corridor towards the detective constable. She still stood, open-mouthed, uncertain.

  ‘Take the car. Get them to Rose’s place. Or mine if you have to.’ McLean shoved his hand in his pocket, pulled out his car keys and lobbed them towards Harrison. Against all the odds, his aim was true and her catching reflex strong. He
didn’t wait to see them go, but took a deep breath and turned back to McKenzie’s apartment.

  He inched through into the darkened hall. Light from the corridor spilled across a floor covered with coats, boots and other detritus spilled from a built-in cupboard. Directly across, the door to the living room hung at a crooked angle, ripped from its top hinge as if someone had been thrown bodily through it. A louder scream came from beyond it, spurring him into action.

  Crossing the hall, McLean almost fell flat on his backside as his foot rolled on something. He crouched down and found an umbrella, the nearest thing to a weapon anywhere to hand. He scooped it up and trod more carefully, fighting down the urges both to rush to McKenzie’s aid and to flee as fast as he could the other way.

  All thoughts of stealth disappeared as his phone started to jangle away in his pocket. McLean ignored it, pushed past the broken door and into the living room, umbrella held forward like a fencer’s epee. The only light in the room came from a table lamp, lying on the floor where it had been knocked over in the fight. In the semi-darkness he could see McKenzie, sprawled halfway across the room, the broken remains of his coffee table underneath him. His hands and feet spasmed in time with his weakening screams as something dark and indistinct clawed at his chest and neck.

  ‘Get off him!’ McLean took two steps into the room and swung the umbrella, surprised when it connected with something solid. Almost impossible to make out in the gloom, a figure in a dark cloak, with lank, greasy black hair snarled at the interruption and turned eyes of burning red on him. The wave of fear almost overwhelmed him, but with the last of his sense, he swung the umbrella back again. This time it connected with the creature’s face, snapping it round. He was sure it was going to fall to the floor unconscious, but instead it simply shook its head and slowly stood up to face him.

  ‘You.’ One word snarled with all the venom of a Burton’s carpet viper. And yet behind the rage, there was a tremor of confusion. McLean took a step back as the creature rose to its full height. He recognised something in that voice, but the figure itself was too indistinct to see, all tangled hair and shadows. Only its eyes were clear, blazing red as if fire burned behind them. Beneath its feet, McKenzie twitched and moaned as he fought for breath, but at least the young man was still alive.

  ‘You’re under arrest.’ McLean heard the utter ridiculousness of his words even as he spoke them. The shadows moved, stepping over McKenzie towards him, head cocked slightly to one side. He took a step back, uncertain.

  ‘No more wishes, Detective Chief Inspector?’ The voice rasped across his mind, but again there was that hint of familiarity in the words, as if he’d heard them spoken, but by another person. Confused, McLean almost didn’t notice the figure crouch slightly, tensing for the attack.

  Almost.

  It lunged at him in a whirr of noise, arms outstretched, those crimson eyes flaming in the near total darkness. There was a smell about it of sewers, burnt hair and something far worse still. Heat boiled off it, and fear too. Paralysing fear that had McLean frozen until the last possible moment. He fell back, whipping the umbrella up again as he did so. The tip of it connected with something and the beast let out a feral howl.

  ‘Die, then.’ The shadows spat, and leapt towards him again. McLean scrambled away as best he could, and then felt the wall behind at his back. A claw-like hand speared out of the darkness, grabbed him by the throat and hauled him to his feet. And then, just as it leaned in close for the kill, something flickered in McLean’s peripheral vision. A movement, a noise like rushing wind. A cloud of white spray billowed out, catching the creature full in the face.

  It let out an agonised scream, tripping backwards in its haste to get away from DC Harrison. She stepped past McLean, arm outstretched and a can of pepper spray in her hand, letting the full volume of it cover his attacker. The creature should have been on the floor, curled in a ball, unable to breathe, but it scratched at its face, pulling out chunks of hair and flesh, throwing them to the floor. And then with a last howl of anger, it turned away, leapt at the window and crashed through the glass into the darkness beyond.

  60

  ‘I thought I told you to get Rahel and Nala away.’

  McLean struggled to stand upright, his legs weak, head woozy. Harrison ignored him, going first to the window to look out and down, then back to McKenzie as he lay on the floor.

  ‘We need to get him to a hospital fast.’ She held a finger to his neck in search of a pulse, then finally looked up at McLean, eyes widening as she did so. ‘You too, sir.’

  ‘What? I’m fine.’ McLean put a hand up to his neck. It had stung as the creature scratched him, but now it felt numb and warm, almost pleasant. When he pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers, they were slick with blood. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Aye. That’s about right. Here.’ Harrison came over to where he stood, producing a clean white handkerchief from her pocket. ‘Hold that tight against it. You’ve a nasty cut to your neck.’

  McLean did as he was told, waiting while Harrison put through a call to Control telling them to send an ambulance. His legs felt strong enough to support him by the time she was done, even if his head was still light, his balance off.

  ‘What about Rahel and Nala though? We need to protect them. That thing—’

  ‘They’re OK, sir. Your friend Rose arrived just as we were leaving the building. She’s taken them off to her house. I don’t think they’re going to try to run away again.’

  ‘What about that . . . ?’ McLean used various pieces of furniture to help steady himself as he found a path round McKenzie’s prone body to the broken window. Leaning as far towards it as he dared, he could see street lights and the surrounding houses through thickening snowfall, but not the area six floors down where the creature must have landed. No way it could have survived that fall though, surely?

  A noise behind him had McLean turning too quickly, and he leaned heavily against the wall as his vision darkened. When the spots cleared it was to the sight of an old man. For a moment McLean couldn’t think who he was, but then he saw the Dee Trust logo on his fleece jacket, and recognised him from his earlier visit. The concierge who couldn’t pronounce the word.

  ‘You’ll need to stay back please, sir.’ DC Harrison walked towards the man, ready to usher him out, but McLean stopped her with a wave.

  ‘Actually, if you could stay here with Billy, until the paramedics arrive?’ A whoop of a nearby siren through the broken window suggested the wait wouldn’t be long. ‘He’s been attacked. I need to make sure his attacker hasn’t escaped.’

  The old man’s eyes flicked from McLean’s face to his neck and back again. He nodded once, then stepped past him to where McKenzie lay horribly still.

  ‘Harrison, with me.’

  ‘Sir, you’re still bleeding. You need to slow down.’ The detective constable caught up with him halfway to the lift, and she wasn’t even running. McLean knew she was right.

  ‘Just need to make sure. Whoever that was. Whatever they were dosed up on. There’s no way they can have survived a fall from six storeys. Not so they could escape. We need to make sure they’re either dead or secured.’

  The lift pinged open as they reached it, two paramedics inside. McLean pointed them down the corridor to the open door. ‘He’s inside. Deal with him first. I’m fine for now.’

  They both looked sceptical, but hurried past nonetheless. He stepped into the lift, Harrison right behind him.

  ‘You really shouldn’t be doing this, sir. You should have let them look at that cut. It’s deep.’

  ‘It’ll be OK. Backup will be here soon. Then we can all go home.’

  Backup had arrived in the form of Grumpy Bob by the time the lift opened on the ground floor of Inchmalcolm Tower. McLean tried his best not to stagger as he walked out into the entrance hall, but he might have failed a little. The old detective sergeant
said nothing; he didn’t need to.

  ‘I know, I know. I’ve had enough of an earful from Harrison. Can we just get this over with so I can go and sit down?’

  ‘Where are you going, sir?’ Grumpy Bob asked.

  ‘Out there.’ McLean waved his free hand in the approximate direction of the ground beneath Billy McKenzie’s window and the three off them set of for the main doors. ‘Thanks for calling Rose,’ he added as they stepped outside. The cold air blew some of the fuzziness from his mind, but also reminded him of just how weak and tired he felt.

  ‘Aye, well. If I’d known what was out here I’d maybe have called an armed-response team and all.’

  Newly fallen snow made the ground around the side of the tower block slippery underfoot. Perhaps inevitably, the lights that illuminated the front entrance plunged this part of the grounds into greater darkness. Looking up, McLean could see the broken window high above, but the flats below it were either empty or their occupants had gone to bed.

  ‘Careful, sir.’ DC Harrison was at his side, a hand to his elbow as if he were a pensioner whose Zimmer frame had been stolen. Only then did the wave of nausea wash over him and he almost fell into her arms. Perhaps looking up hadn’t been such a good idea. Or indeed coming out into the darkness in search of some monster with eyes that burned like fire.

  ‘Got to be here somewhere,’ he said to cover his embarrassment, all too aware that the words slurred out like he’d been drinking. ‘Where’s that torch of yours, Bob?’

  Light blazed across the yard as both Grumpy Bob and DC Harrison switched on torches. Fat lumps of snow tumbled down through the still air, already covering up the mess of broken glass and window frame beneath Billy McKenzie’s flat, and there, lying in the middle of it, a black-clad lump beginning to speckle white.

  ‘Careful.’ Harrison inched closer to the body, torch in one hand, pepper spray in the other. It didn’t move, even when she prodded it with a foot. She crouched down, clipping the spray to her belt, reached in to roll the body over onto its back, then leapt away with a yelp of surprise when it groaned and started to move. In an instant she had the spray out again, but whoever it was let out a pained whimper and fell still again.