Spectre's Rest

by Nick Moseley

  ‘Looks like your escort is here,’ Maggie said. ‘Have you met Mishti?’

  ‘Mishti Desai,’ the woman said, shaking Trev’s hand. ‘We haven’t been introduced before, but I enjoyed watching your sparring session with Feargal last month.’

  ‘Oh yeah, you’re the vapour weapons instructor, right?’ said Trev, remembering.

  ‘That’s me,’ Desai said. ‘I’m the lead instructor in that field.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Trev. ‘So am I training with you this evening?’

  ‘No, sorry,’ Desai replied. ‘I just volunteered to fetch you because I wanted to introduce myself. Feargal wants to see you.’

  ‘For a debrief, I guess.’ Trev felt a little wary at this news. Feargal Deacon was the Custodians’ Operations Co-ordinator, which in practice made him the second most important person in the organisation after the Operations Director, Jeannette Nicklin, who was based in London. Trev had encountered Deacon a couple of times before, and on both occasions had been left with the impression that the bloke considered him a dangerous half-wit.

  ‘Yes, afraid so,’ said Desai. She led him through the offices to another lift, which dropped them into the underground section of the base. ‘Good work capturing Corbyn, by the way.’

  ‘Cheers,’ said Trev. ‘Nice to get him at last, slippery bugger.’

  Desai nodded. ‘Feargal’s delighted, though don’t expect him to show it.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ said Trev with a smile.

  They walked along a featureless corridor and passed through a security checkpoint which led into the bunker itself. The corridor beyond the checkpoint was home to a number of busy offices. Keyboards were rattled, phones were answered and papers were shuffled. Trev and Desai weaved their way between hurrying Custodians and headed through a set of double doors into the Ops Room, which was the heart of the bunker. It was a large, split-level room containing banks of computers, two illuminated map tables and countless display screens.

  Feargal Deacon was standing at one of the map tables, giving instructions to a short man with grey hair and thick glasses. Trev and Desai waited for the man to scurry off and then made themselves known to Deacon.

  ‘Trevor, how are you?’ Deacon said, shaking Trev’s hand. He was a tall, well-built man with salt-and-pepper hair and a rugged face. He was wearing a blue shirt with a navy blue tie and black pinstriped suit trousers.

  ‘Good, thanks,’ Trev said. ‘Yourself?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Deacon. ‘Let’s go through to my office. Thanks, Mishti.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Desai. ‘Nice to meet you, Trev.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Trev replied.

  He followed Deacon out of a side door and into another corridor. This one was noticeably less busy. Deacon’s office was identified by a discreet brass nameplate. Unlocking the door, Deacon ushered Trev inside and invited him to sit down. The office was smaller than Trev had expected and scrupulously tidy, with everything in its rightful place. Deacon sat down at his desk and looked across it at Trev.

  ‘I expect you’d like to know why I asked to see you,’ Deacon said.

  ‘I assumed you wanted to debrief me about this morning’s fun and games,’ Trev said.

  Deacon shook his head. ‘I would like to talk about that, but it isn’t the main reason.’

  ‘Oh. Right,’ said Trev, puzzled.

  Deacon drummed his fingers on the desktop. His expression suggested that he was considering his next words rather carefully. In the end he sighed and shrugged.

  ‘I was trying to think of a diplomatic way to put this, but I think I’ll just be blunt,’ he said.

  ‘I believe that we have a traitor operating among us.’

  Five

  Trev’s surprise was genuine. ‘Oh?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Deacon. ‘And I believe that you are a part of their plans.’

  ‘What?’ said Trev. ‘You can’t think I’m involved, surely? I only joined this morning!’

  ‘No, no, that isn’t what I meant,’ said Deacon, raising a hand. ‘I’m not suggesting you’re involved in their plans, but that their plans involve you.’

  Trev narrowed his eyes, trying to work that one out. ‘I hate to repeat myself, but… what?’

  ‘Whatever else they’re up to, I believe that killing you is part of their plans,’ Deacon said.

  ‘Oh,’ said Trev. ‘I mean, oh shit.’ He was still puzzled. ‘Thanks for the heads up, appreciated. But how come you’re telling me this? I’m not even a member yet.’

  ‘I’m telling you because your life is at risk,’ said Deacon. ‘And also because as things stand, you’re one of the few people in this building who isn’t a suspect. I know for sure it isn’t me, and as you’re the target and only joined today, I know it can’t be you either.’

  Trev scratched his head and tried to think. He hadn’t been expecting this and wasn’t prepared for it. ‘How did you find out about the traitor?’ he asked.

  ‘I wasn’t happy about that call report going missing,’ Deacon said. ‘I have to admit that you annoyed me by going on about it when you were here in November, but you made your point. When I reviewed the notes from the original investigation, I wasn’t entirely satisfied.’

  Trev nodded. He remembered the incident well. His Granddad had called the Custodians for backup when he and Trev had discovered that the Brackenford-based supermarket tycoon, Alastair Kolley, had summoned a demon and was using it to possess and control people. The call had been logged at the Custodians’ HQ, but the details had never made it to the Ops Room to be acted upon and Trev had been forced to fight the creature alone. The Custodians had looked into the missing report and claimed it had been an oversight, but Trev wasn’t convinced.

  ‘That’s just one incident, though,’ Trev said. ‘You must’ve found more than that.’

  ‘I dug deeper,’ Deacon said, ‘and found that all the records of who’d logged in and out that day had been deleted, along with all the internal CCTV footage.’

  ‘That does seem somewhat suspicious,’ Trev said.

  ‘I thought so,’ said Deacon dryly. ‘Then that same week we found that Boughbrook Hospital had been removed from the watch-list. Remember?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Trev. ‘You think it was deliberately removed from the list so Francis Ducrow could move in?’

  ‘It’s the obvious conclusion,’ said Deacon.

  The Custodians kept a log of abandoned buildings, especially those in out-of-the-way places, that supernatural creatures might be using as hideouts. This log was called the watch-list, and the buildings on it were supposed to be checked on a regular basis. Boughbrook was an abandoned mental hospital to the south of Brackenford. It had been on the watch-list, but someone had removed it without authorisation. Shortly afterwards Ezekiel Barker and his master, Francis Ducrow, had moved into the hospital and begun using it as a base of operations.

  ‘And there was no record of who’d removed it?’ Trev asked.

  ‘No,’ said Deacon. ‘Once again, the perpetrator had covered their tracks. Whoever they are, they know our computer systems inside out.’ He leaned forwards. ‘In your debrief after the… events at Boughbrook, you said you thought that Kolley’s missing accomplice and the person who asked Ducrow to kill you were the same person. If I’m honest I dismissed that at the time, but now I think you might’ve been right.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Trev. ‘I thought that the Custodians’ official position was that Kolley acted alone?’

  Deacon frowned. ‘Well, we found no trace of an accomplice during the investigation into Kolley’s activities. But if the accomplice is a Custodian, someone with access to the investigation, then that might be why we didn’t find anything.’

  ‘So you think this traitor, Kolley’s accomplice, and Ducrow’s contact are all the same person?’

  Trev had worked all this out beforehand, of course. But he didn’t want to tell Deacon that and have him ask why Trev hadn’t thought to report it.

  ‘Rig
ht,’ said Deacon. ‘It’s not a conclusion that sits well with me, but as far as I can see it fits all the facts.’

  ‘If that is the case, then as soon as you start an internal investigation this traitor is going to know about it and will vanish,’ Trev said. ‘Or they can start tinkering with the records to implicate somebody else.’

  Deacon gave Trev a look that suggested he was reappraising him. ‘Correct,’ he said.

  ‘And it’s just the two of us that know about it, so far?’

  Deacon nodded. ‘Yes. There are a few other people that I’m sure aren’t involved, and one or two others that I’ve been able to eliminate as suspects one way or another. But this place is a rumour-mill. As soon as I start bringing people in on this, word of it will get out.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like you trust your staff much,’ Trev said.

  ‘There are many people here that I’ve trusted with my life,’ Deacon said. ‘But I know what internal investigations are like. People will talk, tip off their friends. They’ll only do it with people they trust, of course, people who they could never imagine being traitors. But seeming honest and trustworthy is a traitor’s stock in trade.’

  ‘It’s not going to be much of an investigation if it’s just you and me,’ Trev said.

  ‘I’m sorry, I think you misunderstand me,’ Deacon said. ‘I’m not telling you this because I want to rope you into the investigation.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Trev, not sure if he was disappointed or not. He still intended to do his own poking and prying, but having Deacon’s expertise and clout behind him would have made things much easier.

  ‘I was going to suggest that you stay away from here until this is resolved,’ Deacon said.

  ‘Why tell me about it then?’

  ‘Because your life is at risk,’ Deacon said. ‘Even away from here you’re probably still a target. You need to be aware of the threat so you can take precautions.’

  ‘Right,’ said Trev. He ran over a few scenarios in his mind; the point of taking the week off had been to spend time with the Custodians and look for the traitor. If he let Deacon banish him, then the whole thing was a waste of time.

  ‘I’m grateful for the concern for my safety,’ he said, ‘but look at it this way. If I’m scheduled to spend the week here and I suddenly back out, isn’t that going to make the traitor suspicious?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Deacon replied. ‘But I’m sure we can come up with a plausible excuse.’

  ‘Yeah, but there’s something else,’ Trev said. ‘If I’m here, doesn’t that increase the chances of the traitor showing their hand?’

  Deacon gave him a level stare. ‘Are you talking about using yourself as bait?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that, no,’ Trev said. ‘I’m not going to stroll around the base wearing a T-shirt with a target on the back. I’m just talking about taking advantage of my presence here this week. I don’t think the traitor is going to ignore me.’

  ‘No, but they might try to kill you,’ Deacon pointed out.

  ‘Maybe, but I think the location is too risky,’ Trev argued. ‘Whoever the traitor is, they’ve shown that they don’t like to get their hands dirty. Both attempts on my life have come through third parties.’

  ‘I’m not sure that you can call that a pattern just yet,’ said Deacon. ‘I think you need more data than just two incidents.’

  ‘We need to make sure that I’m with a group of people at all times,’ Trev said. ‘Then we just have to keep an eye open for anyone who’s paying me more attention that they ought to be.’

  Deacon drummed his fingers on his desk again. ‘There’s some merit to what you’re saying, but I’m not convinced that it’s worth the risk.’ He gave Trev another searching look. ‘I’ll give it some thought. Stick around this evening, and come in tomorrow morning as arranged. I’ll let you know then what I’ve decided.’

  Trev shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘All right then,’ said Deacon, ‘let’s talk about Corbyn. I’ve seen Carter and McKenzie’s reports, so I have a rough idea of what went on. But I’ll need a full statement from you so we can sort out the charges against him.’

  ‘OK,’ said Trev. He went through the events of the morning, filling Deacon in on all the details. The only thing he left out was Corbyn’s reference to the assassination attempt he’d arranged. Trev hadn’t told the Custodians about it, and he didn’t think Corbyn would mention it in questioning either. He wasn’t going to add another charge to his already crammed rap-sheet.

  ‘I always thought Corbyn was a clever operator,’ Deacon said when Trev had finished. ‘But setting off a banshee ball in a confined space like that was utterly stupid.’

  ‘Utterly desperate, I think,’ said Trev. ‘He had so many people after him he completely lost the plot.’

  ‘Well with your evidence I don’t think he’ll have to worry about anyone being “after him” for quite a while,’ Deacon said. ‘You did well, Trevor. There are three Custodians who’re still alive because of you. Thank you.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Trev, feeling awkward. He hadn’t expected Deacon to get all touchy-feely, and wasn’t sure how to react. ‘Glad to help.’

  ‘If you could spend the rest of your time here getting that statement written and signed, that would be very helpful,’ said Deacon, sitting back in his chair. ‘The sooner we get proceedings started against Corbyn, the better. I’ll get someone to help you.’

  ‘All right,’ said Trev. ‘What’s happened to Corbyn? Is he still here?’

  ‘No,’ said Deacon. ‘I had him transferred to Spectre’s Rest as soon as he’d been processed here. That’s our maximum-security prison, for the time being at least.’

  ‘I think I’ve heard of it,’ Trev said, remembering that Granddad’s ghostly companion Agatha had mentioned the place. ‘Hasn’t it been in use since Victorian times?’

  ‘You’re well informed,’ Deacon replied. ‘Spectre’s Rest was built in the nineteenth century as a place to hold the very worst supernatural criminals. From what I’ve read, it was a pretty horrendous place in those early days.’

  ‘It “made Bethlem Hospital seem like a night at the theatre in comparison”, I was told,’ Trev said, remembering Agatha’s words.

  ‘Very well informed,’ said Deacon. ‘It’s not like that now, of course, but it’s still not a place you’d want to find yourself.’

  ‘You said it was only your maximum-security prison “for the time being”,’ Trev said. ‘Is it closing down?’

  Deacon nodded. ‘Yes. A new, modern facility has been built in the West Country. A number of lower-risk inmates have been transferred there already, but until the Operations Director is satisfied that everything is a hundred percent in order they’re keeping the high-risk prisoners at Spectre’s Rest.’

  ‘Is she not happy with the new place then?’

  ‘She’s being cautious, and rightly so,’ said Deacon. ‘In any new facility there are going to be teething problems, small issues. You have to be sure those are all ironed out before you bring in the worst inmates.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ said Trev. ‘It’s best to find out that a cell door doesn’t lock properly before there’s a supernatural serial killer on the other side of it, right?’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Deacon. ‘Well, I think we’ve covered everything. I’ll arrange for one of the admin staff to help you with that statement. Once that’s done I suggest you call it a night. Come and see me tomorrow first thing and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided regarding our unwelcome guest.’

  ‘All right,’ said Trev. He got up from his chair. ‘Where should I go to do this statement?’

  ‘The Senior Archivist’s office,’ Deacon said. ‘Jane Woods is the new incumbent.’

  Replacing Jack Rock, Trev thought, feeling a familiar twinge of guilt in his stomach. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.’

  ‘First thing,’ said Deacon.

  Trev walked to the door. He turned ba
ck, one hand on the door handle. ‘I want to help you catch this traitor,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you can think of a way to make use of me.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Deacon, firmly enough to indicate that the conversation was over.

  Trev took the hint and left.

  It took an hour and a half to get the statement sorted out. Trev found it strange to be back in Rock’s former office, sitting opposite his replacement. Jane Woods was a petite woman in her forties with frizzy blonde hair and glasses. She talked Trev through the process of writing the statement while simultaneously working her way through a mountain of filing.

  Trev’s usual approach to paperwork was fifty percent slap and fifty percent dash, but as this particular paperwork was going to be the means to keep Corbyn behind bars he decided to be conscientious about it. Woods went through it once it was complete and got it signed off and filed. Trev bade her good night and made his way back out to the car park.

  It was nearly eight o’clock and his stomach was providing him with audible warning that his late lunch had been insufficient. Trev was mentally scrolling down a list of Brackenford’s takeaway restaurants when his phone beeped. There was no mobile phone signal in the Custodians’ bunker unless your phone was set up to their internal network, which Trev’s wasn’t. He checked the screen. He’d had a missed call from a number he didn’t recognise, and a text from the same number that simply read “CALL ME ASAP”.

  He climbed into his car and brought the reluctant engine to life with a combination of heartfelt pleading and colourful swearing. It eventually caught and he called the mystery number while it was warming up. It was answered on the first ring.

  ‘Took you long enough,’ said a female voice. Trev thought he recognised it, but couldn’t place it.

  ‘Who’s this?’ he asked.