The Case of the Hidden Daemon

by Lucy Banks

  Serena glided through the barrier and raced to catch up with him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kester. Look, I didn’t mean to upset you . . .”

  “Hello, hello, hello; what’s going on here, then?” Mike sidled up to join them as they descended the escalators to the underground platform. “You two have been behaving oddly with each other recently. Something I should know?”

  “Oh, bugger off, Mike,” Serena snapped. “It has absolutely nothing to do with you; you’re just being nosy.”

  “Well, if you two are having some sort of lover’s tiff, perhaps you should make sure the rest of us know the situation.”

  “Mike, we are not having a lover’s tiff!” Kester shouted. “Serena was being a cow and insulting my girlfriend. Who, incidentally, is the woman I’m in love with. Get it?”

  Mike stepped off the escalator and gave them both a look. “Why are you insulting Anya, Serena? When I met her, I thought she was lovely.”

  “Oh, did you now?” Serena growled. “How great. I’m so pleased she met up to your discerning standards.”

  “Gosh, you lot are having a right old row, aren’t you?” Pamela appeared behind them, bustling them onto the platform like a goose flapping at its goslings. “I hope this isn’t an awkward love-triangle situation. It’s never a good idea in the work-place, you know.”

  “It isn’t!” the other three chorused.

  Miss Wellbeloved caught up with them just as the train screeched towards the platform. “Will you please show some decorum?” she snapped, looking nervously around them. “Larry Higgins is still within earshot, and I’d rather he didn’t see us squabbling amongst ourselves.”

  Ribero winked, resting briefly on his crutches. “Ah. Young and hot-blooded. I remember it well.”

  “I doubt that very much, you’re far too old,” Miss Wellbeloved reprimanded, as they boarded the train. “Now come on, let’s hurry up and get home.”

  They remained in silence as the train wailed into the darkness of the tunnel. Kester fumed inwardly, glaring at Serena, who was doing a good job of pretending not to notice. How dare she say that? he thought, feeling even angrier the more he dwelt on it. What has she got against Anya, anyway? The poor woman got kidnapped by the Thelemites, went through a horrible ordeal, and now she’s got this cow-bag judging her unfairly!

  His mood didn’t improve for the rest of the journey back. Pamela attempted to cheer him up by offering him a succession of sugary snacks, but even the promised delivery of a chocolate bar failed to raise a smile. Instead, he glared out of the window, watching the tower-blocks and skyscrapers of the capital gradually give way to fields and farmland. It was a long, sullen journey.

  “Look, mate,” Mike said finally as they arrived at Exeter station. “I don’t think Serena meant to upset you.”

  Kester raised an eyebrow as he stepped off the train. “Since when have you ever stuck up for her? Anyway, Mike, you know what she’s like. She’s always trying to make me cross. Well, now she’s succeeded.”

  Mike pulled his cap down over his eyes to shelter them from the winter wind, which drove along the station platform like a wave of ice. “Nah, I don’t think it’s like that,” he said. “She was explaining it to me on the way home. She just thinks it’s odd that the Thelemites let Anya go so easily. I mean, why kidnap her in the first place if they were just going to release her straight after? You’ve got to admit, Serena’s got a point.”

  “They only released her because Miss Wellbeloved asked them very nicely.”

  Mike held his hands up in surrender. “Sure. Whatever. You know her better than we do. But on this occasion, don’t hold a grudge against Serena. I don’t think she meant it nastily.”

  Kester eyed Serena, currently lagging back with his father, who was stumbling along as best as possible on his crutches. He shrugged. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It just didn’t seem fair to attack Anya when she wasn’t there to defend herself.”

  Mike grinned. “So, you’ve definitely been getting some, haven’t you?”

  Kester blushed. Mike’s grin stretched even wider.

  “Get in there, my son! You’re a smooth operator, you are!”

  “Yeah, alright,” Kester muttered, feeling half mortified and half pleased with himself. “Keep it down.” They walked out of the station and into the growing darkness of the late afternoon. Christmas lights twinkled in the nearby shops, and well-wrapped people surged past them, weighted down with shopping bags. He would have enjoyed the festive atmosphere more had he not felt so tired and grumpy.

  Mike winked. “Say no more. Gentlemen never kiss and tell. Do you want a lift back home?”

  Kester looked up at the weighty clouds, looming overhead. “Yes, please. That would be amazing.”

  “Does that go for me too?” Serena piped up with an anxious look in Kester’s direction. He gave her a tight smile in response.

  “Ooh, and me, love. My car’s in the garage for a service at the moment,” Pamela added as she hurried over.

  Mike looked incredulous. “Anyone else for the free taxi service then? Funny, you normally all moan about the poor old van, until you actually need it.”

  Ribero shook his head. “No, I will be travelling back with Jennifer. I do not wish to go in the death-mobile, thank you very much.”

  “You’re the one that bought the bloody van,” Mike spluttered. “If it’s such a death-trap, why not buy another one for the agency?”

  “Because you are so fond of this one, yes?” Without waiting for an answer, Ribero hobbled off, closely followed by Miss Wellbeloved, who hastily yanked a knitted bobble hat over her head and delivered them a look of silent apology as she went.

  One irate, traffic-filled drive later, the van arrived at Kester’s house. He was pleased to see the back of Anya’s head in the lounge window, watching a television programme about competing catwalk models, if the screen was anything to go by. Less welcome was the sight of Pineapple and Daisy’s heads, sitting either side of her. I do hope Thor has made himself comfortable on top of Pineapple’s leg, he thought uncharitably as he rummaged for his door keys.

  “You’re early!” Daisy chimed as he stepped into the lounge and eased himself out of his jacket.

  Kester looked at his watch. “Only a little,” he acknowledged. “There was no point going into the office by the time we got back.”

  “How did the meeting go?” Anya asked with a welcoming smile. Her eyes glowed brightly in the amber lamplight, making her look almost feline, not to mention irresistibly attractive. He felt his insides stir at the sight of her, turning to nervous, excited liquid.

  “Much as we expected.” He perched against the armrest of the sofa. “Things aren’t going too well so far.” He gave a deliberate nod in Daisy and Pineapple’s direction, then winked at Anya, who understood immediately not to say anything more in front of them. “So,” he continued, changing the subject, “how was your day?”

  She shrugged. “I took the day off. The thought of standing in the library all day long, being bored, was too much to bear.”

  “Really?” Kester absent-mindedly reached down and patted Thor’s head. “I thought you loved your job?”

  Anya shrugged. “Yeah, you know. There’s more to life than working a boring nine-to-five job. Sometimes, it’s fun to do something different. So, I went shopping instead.”

  “We met her in town!” Daisy said enthusiastically. “She helped me choose some new make-up for this party I’m going to at the weekend. I had no idea your girlfriend was so good at understanding colours and everything.”

  “Yeah, man, she picked some new eyeliner for me, and it was totally a radical departure from my usual gig, you get me?” Pineapple added, stretching his thin legs even further across the carpet.

  Kester smiled. “You’re a lady of many talents, Anya. Just don’t pick any make-up for me. I definitely don’t nee
d any.”

  Anya giggled. “Not even a little bit of blusher to colour your cheeks?”

  “Absolutely not.” Especially considering how much I blush already, he added silently.

  “We’re watching some super-tight fashion on the TV right now,” Pineapple confirmed as he edged along to let Kester sit down. “This well-tasty duchess here is being proper made-over, like smooth, right?”

  Kester slumped into the seat. “If you say so. Who enjoys this rubbish, anyway?”

  “We do,” Anya, Daisy, and Pineapple chorused as one.

  Thor wound a tight circle around Kester’s ankles, before scampering nimbly up Pineapple’s leg and onto his lap. Pineapple seemed not to mind and started stroking his long, limber body.

  “You two seem to have hit it off,” Kester remarked.

  Pineapple gave a soppy grin. “Yeah, this little Thor is a diamond geezer. He’s sharing my bed at night, you feel me?”

  “Well, I’m glad someone’s finally sharing your bed with you.” Kester grinned at Anya, who was too engrossed in the programme to notice. “Aren’t you and Daisy out tonight, Pineapple? You normally are.”

  “Nah, we’re not in the mood to—”

  “I thought you said you were?” Anya interrupted, springing back to alertness. “You said you were going down the pub, didn’t you?”

  Pineapple looked puzzled, then his brow lightened. “Yeah, we did. You are so right, little lady.”

  “A trip to the pub would be mega-cool,” Daisy added, checking her pink watch. “We should head down now, shouldn’t we?”

  Kester laughed. “It’s only just gone five. Will it even be open yet?”

  Pineapple and Daisy winked at one another. “That pub’s always open,” Daisy confirmed. “And I could do with a drink. Are you ready?”

  “Lady, I was born in readiness, like proper rock-steady ready. Right?”

  Kester rolled his eyes and took up Pineapple’s departed spot on the sofa, pressing his leg gratefully against Anya’s own. “Hello,” he whispered in her ear. “I missed you today.”

  “You’re sweet.” Anya waited until Daisy and Pineapple had left the room before leaning closer. “So, how did it really go today? Tell me everything.”

  Kester groaned and rested his arm over her shoulder. The usual thrill of excitement that she’d allowed him to do it, without recoiling in disgust, passed through him. I wonder when I’ll stop being surprised that she actually likes me, he thought with a wry grin.

  “It was a long, tiring day,” he said eventually. “Serena got on my nerves. Well, even more than usual, I mean.”

  Anya sat up, accidentally dislodging his arm. “Why, what did she do?”

  “She was just being overly suspicious,” he started, then paused. Perhaps it’s not such a good idea to tell Anya about it, he thought with a frown. Why would I even think that, though? Of course I can tell her. She might get cross at Serena, I suppose, but that doesn’t really matter.

  Anya scrutinised his expression. “Go on,” she said slowly. “What did she say? It was about me, wasn’t it?”

  “How did you guess?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I knew she didn’t like me. Tell me what she said.”

  Kester swallowed. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a very good idea to be talking about it at all. He wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. “It wasn’t much,” he said lamely, twiddling with the tassels on the nearest cushion. “She was just talking about your involvement in the Thelemites.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Who knows with Serena, I mean—”

  “—Was she trying to suggest that I couldn’t be trusted?”

  Ouch, thought Kester. Right on the mark. He winced. “Um, yes. Well, not exactly. But kind of.”

  Anya stood up, flicked the television off, then turned squarely to face him. “And what do you think?”

  He gulped. “I stuck up for you, of course. I told her she was being ridiculous.”

  “Really?”

  Kester clutched the cushion against his belly. “Yes, of course. Do you even need to ask?”

  Anya’s expression clouded over. “I don’t know. Do I?”

  “No!”

  Silence fell. Kester felt like a bug under a microscope, impaled by the sharpness of his girlfriend’s stare. Why did I say anything? he cursed inwardly. If I’d have left it alone, we’d be sitting here, cuddled up on the sofa, having a pleasant evening. Now, she’s looking at me as if she doesn’t know me anymore.

  Finally, Anya broke the silence. “You know, I don’t like Serena much. I think she’s got a big problem with me.”

  Kester sighed. “She’s got a big problem with everyone. Not just you.”

  Anya folded her arms and edged slightly away. It was only a subtle movement, but it disturbed him more than he would have expected. He considered reaching out to her, kissing her, or doing something to make it all better, but the rigidity of her posture advised against it.

  Slowly, she switched the television back on, and they sat in silence.

  Chapter 13: The Posthumous Song

  A reedy buzz shattered Kester’s dream; which wasn’t really a problem, given he’d been having a nightmare about being chased by a supersized Thor. He blinked blearily, then realised it was his phone, rattling his bedside table.

  “Yes?” He fumbled for his glasses, nearly dislodging his glass of water as he did so.

  “Kester, you’ve got to get into the office, now. Massive news, mate. Massive news.”

  Kester sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Mike?” A glance at his wristwatch told him it wasn’t even seven o’clock. Mike loves his bed as much as I do, he thought, blinking in confusion. Why on earth is he even up yet?

  “Course it’s me! Who else would it be, waking you from your beauty sleep? Now, get yourself over here, pronto.”

  “Over where?” He patted the mattress beside him, then realised it was empty. A single blonde hair lay on the pillow; the only sign that Anya had slept there at all.

  “Over to the office! Blimey, you are sleepy.” Mike cleared his throat, which reverberated down the line like a gravelly battering ram. “Been burning the midnight oil again? I’ll have words with that bird of yours if she’s keeping you up—”

  “No, I haven’t been up all night,” Kester replied firmly. “It’s very early in the morning, that’s all.” He sipped his water thoughtfully, then eased himself into a sitting position. “What do you want, anyway? Why do I have to come into the office?”

  “He’s released another song.”

  “Who has?”

  “Billy Dagger, mate! Keep up!”

  Kester sighed. It was a bit too early for all this type of cryptic nonsense. “But Billy Dagger’s dead,” he said slowly as he massaged his forehead.

  “It’s one of those pustymouse release things, isn’t it?

  “I think you mean posthumous, don’t you?”

  Mike sniffed. “Yeah, whatever you call it when it’s released after their death. Anyway, he’s not dead, but alive and kicking and leading the Thelemites, as we all know.”

  This is all getting rather confusing, Kester thought, and edged down to the bottom of the bed, peering out to the landing. The bathroom door was wide open. I wonder where Anya is, then, if she’s not in bed? he thought and glanced back at the pillows as though expecting her to suddenly materialise.

  “Are you listening, Kester?”

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, you need to come and help me figure out the lyrics of the new song.”

  Kester rolled off the bed and stretched. “What, now?”

  “Yeah, now! Come on, it’s exciting. Get down here.” Mike paused. “Pamela’s coming down too, and she’s bringing cake.”

  “Hmm. Alright then.”
He hung up, then groped around in the semi-darkness for his clothes. For some reason, his shirt had managed to get caught on his curtain cord, but other than the occasional expletive he muttered while trying to untangle it, the house was silent.

  “Anya?” he called downstairs as he went to brush his teeth. “Are you making breakfast or something?”

  Silence. Kester sighed, then turned the tap on. I hope she’s not still moody with me after last night, he thought, surveying his reflection with a frown. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of strange tufts, but he didn’t have the energy or inclination to bother sorting it out.

  After, he headed into the kitchen, only to find it unnervingly empty. As he pulled his jacket from the peg in the hallway, he noticed Anya’s coat was gone.

  His heart sank. The empty space on the wall didn’t look right at all. Likewise, the telephone table, where Thor’s lead had been lying the night before, was also bare.

  Either she’s taken Thor for an early morning walk, he thought, swallowing hard, or she’s left me. He had a horrible, sinking suspicion about which scenario was more likely.

  Should I call her? he wondered as he locked up quietly behind him. The street was deserted, the first few, feeble fingers of sun just emerging over the rooftops. Every window he passed was protected with a drawn curtain, isolating him from the world around him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and marched on, breath puffing from his lips like a boiling kettle.

  How can she have got so upset over something so minor? he wondered, feeling quite nettled. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong, only told her what Serena had said. He didn’t see why she would have flown off the handle so badly.

  But perhaps she hasn’t, he rationalised, with a calm inner voice that he’d started to equate with his mother. It was the sort of thing she would have said, anyway. Maybe she just went to work early. You won’t know what’s going on until you speak to her.

  Still, it didn’t feel great, not knowing what was going on. He stalked into the office, feeling generally irate with the world, only to find Mike and Pamela, wearing matching smiles and suspending a large cake in front of them.