The information that was online about the hotel revolved around the model railway association and their annual Expo. The model railway enthusiasts recommended the hotel as an ideal place to stay. Several had left glowing reviews of Black Hotel on various hotel review websites. The Expo was coming up in a couple of weeks. What effect would the Expo have on his shifts? It would be very different, actually having guests.
Searches for Amanda and demented magicians were equally fruitless.
He did manage to find out a good deal of information about Miss Daniels. As his Mum had informed him, she was rich. Richer than any one person should be rich. Her grandfather, Frederick, and father, Freddie, had started a whole bunch of companies which had made a fortune, and they had left it all to Miss Daniels, their only heir.
How did people search before the Internet? Jack vaguely recalled assignments at primary school involving libraries and encyclopaedias and whatnot. So he took himself off to the local library. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for or how to look, so it was a waste of time. He found some books on haunted houses, mostly fiction though.
The only other thing he could think of was Town Hall. That was more of a movie thing to try. He decided to give it a shot anyway. He managed to access some old blueprints and plans but had no idea how to read them or what to do with them once he had them. He held onto them for a while, hoping not to appear completely ignorant, before returning them to the clerk.
‘Hey, how would I tell if the hotel was destroyed by a fire?’
‘It wouldn’t be there any more.’
‘What if they rebuilt it?’
‘Then it would be there.’
Jack did his best to stay patient. ‘For argument’s sake, say a hotel burnt down but then it was rebuilt. How would I go about finding out about what happened? About the fire.’
‘I dunno. Internet?’
‘Yeah, I tried that.’
‘And there was nothing about it burning down?’
Jack shook his head.
‘Well, it probably didn’t burn down then,’ the clerk replied curtly, walking away to return the blueprints to their home.
Jack hated to admit it but the clerk was probably right. Surely if there were some history of paranormal events or indeed a fire at the hotel, he would have uncovered some evidence of it.
The Model Railway Association building was located a short walk from Black Hotel. Only a couple of streets away. From the outside, their headquarters didn’t appear a whole lot different from the surrounding factories and warehouses — an ugly concrete building surrounded by cyclone fencing. The only thing that gave any indication of its true purpose was a small sign.
The locked gate prevented Jack from getting too close. Wandering along the street he noticed the building was split level, the street entrance being up the top. Jack peered as best he could through the fence down to the lower-level. A train track ran out the window, disappearing into a cave cut out of a model mountain and back into the building.
‘Can I help you?’
The unexpected voice gave Jack a start. A balding, slightly round, middle-aged man stood near the building’s entrance.
‘Hi. Do you work here?’
‘I do. I am the secretary for the MRA.’
‘I was after some information. I hear you’ve got an Expo coming up?’
A conspiratorial smile curled across the man’s lips. ‘You’re model railway enthusiast?’
‘Sure.’
The secretary led Jack inside. The space was impressive even to Jack who didn’t have the slightest interest in model trains. The upstairs level wasn’t a level at all, more a large viewing balcony stretching over the floor below.
Beneath the balcony lay a complex model of a city, or more accurately complex models of several different cities. A mishmash of different styles and time periods. Even from up above it was easy to see how detailed and accurate the models were. The one constant was the train tracks which snaked everywhere, all over the space, in and out of the models, past replica buildings, boom gates, gas stations, cars, parks, trees and even little people. Jack leaned over the balcony staring down into the impressive sight.
‘Here you go.’ The secretary handed him an Expo flyer. ‘You better book quickly. We’re almost sold out. We have guests from all over the country and several international.’
‘What do you do?’ Jack couldn’t stop himself from asking. ‘At the Expo.’
‘It’s a meeting of like-minded folk. Mostly we pilot various models, but we cater for everyone. We have modellers, enthusiasts, rail-fans. There is even a trade show.’
As Jack listened he found it difficult to believe people would travel from overseas merely to play with trains. It was hard to believe people would bother coming across town for it. No matter how impressive the models. However, Jack wasn’t about to suggest that to the secretary. Live and let live. He didn’t want to insult the man.
‘So, you have people from interstate?’
‘Yes, many.’
‘Where do they stay around here?’
‘There’s a hotel around the corner that we recommend. Black Hotel. We suggest people stay there for convenience.’
‘Makes sense. Tell me, have you ever had any trouble with the hotel?’
The secretary’s face fell. ‘Why? What have you heard?’
‘Nothing. I was just —’
‘Get out.’ He snatched the Expo fly out of Jack’s hand. ‘Who do you write for? NTE?’
‘Write for?’
‘I don’t know who you are, but I want you to leave. Now.’ The secretary hustled Jack towards the door. ‘You don’t care about model railway, you’re here for idle gossip.’
‘Gossip? What gossip?’ Jack’s heart beat a little faster.
‘Yes, we had some catering issues a few years ago. Some people got sick. It wasn’t our fault or the hotel’s fault. The issue is resolved. We don’t need any more bad publicity, thank you very much.’
‘I’m not a reporter. I just want to know about the hotel.’
‘Go talk to people at the hotel then.’
They were almost back at the entrance. Jack’s voice rose in urgency. ‘Have any of your attendees ever gone missing?’
The secretary looked down his nose at Jack. ‘Missing? Why would anyone go missing?’
‘At the hotel. Have any of your attendees died in the hotel? Or had something strange happened to them?’
‘If things like that happened at the hotel, we would hardly recommend people stay there, would we?’
‘No. I guess not.’
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.’ The door slammed shut behind Jack. Another dead end.
Jack returned home to Merch.
‘Any luck?’
‘I’m not giving up. I’ll find something.’
‘Hey, I know something that might cheer you up. Movie marathon!’
‘Thanks, but I don’t really feel like watching Ghostbusters.’
However, Ghostbusters was only one of Merch’s choices. Merch was fond of selecting movies from different eras, so they watched The Ghost and Mrs Muir and The Conjuring as well. The also tried to give Uncle Boonmee a whirl, but true to Merch’s earlier assessment they couldn’t understand a thing that went on. Jack wasn’t sure how much the movies helped his situation. His ghosts didn’t seem anywhere near as mean as the ghosts in The Conjuring, which were mean from the get-go. But he appreciated Merch’s effort and found he quite enjoyed himself.
As the credits rolled Merch made a suggestion. ‘I’ve got an idea. I should come in for a shift.’
‘Hey?’
‘I should come in for a shift at the hotel. See if I see anything.’
Jack nodded, considering it. Not a bad idea.
22
Merch’s Shift
When Jack arrived for work, there was a pleasant surprise waiting for him. Another plastic container from Maria. Jack popped the lid with excitement.
‘Sh
e feels bad,’ Hector explained. ‘I told her about our little prank with the pretend ghost and she thinks it was mean. Now she’s mad. I guess she’s apologising for me. It’s fun to be married sometimes.’
Inside was a home-made lemon slice. Jack devoured a piece immediately. If possible, it was even nicer than the brownie.
‘Thank her for me and tell her it’s delicious…’ Jack said spitting crumbs everywhere.
‘I’m a bit worried about her. She’s going nutty. I think it’s all the hormones mixed with being stuck at home all day, not being able to go to work.’
‘Oh yeah, she’s pregnant, isn’t she?’
‘Very. It’s not due for a couple of weeks, but she went and saw her doctor and her doctor said the baby could arrive any day now and it wouldn’t be considered early. That’s terrifying.’
‘Are you having a boy or girl?’
‘We don’t know. I heard this thing that it’s better not to know. Gives you something to look forward to during the birth. You know, after all the pain. We’re having to take these classes at the hospital at the moment. I think they’re trying to prepare us, so we don’t freak out at the birth. But the classes are freaking me out now. Maria is pretty strong, but the whole birthing thing sounds decidedly awful to me.’
Jack nodded, grabbing a second piece. ‘Do you want some?’
‘Nah, she’ll smell it on me. Strict instructions. I am not allowed to have any. The slice is all for you. So, I can let her know you’re not planning to quit?’
Jack shook his head with a smile.
Finally, Hector left the building. Jack gave it another five minutes, just to be certain, before calling Merch with the all clear.
‘What took so long?’ Merch asked as Jack let him in the main door. He had been waiting in his car around the corner from the hotel.
‘I had to wait for Hector to leave.’
‘I thought you said Hector was cool.’
‘He is cool, but it’s not like kids going to someone’s house for a sleepover. It probably would have been fine, but I didn’t want to ask Hector and have him say no. I don’t know what the protocol is for having friends hang around at work.’
‘It’s not really work though, is it? You just sit around a hotel all night.’
‘You just occasionally stuff bags into vending machines. That’s not work either.’
Merch eyed the lobby for the first time. ‘Wow, you weren’t wrong. This place is amazing.’
Jack took a small measure of pride in the hotel like it was his somehow. He gave Merch the full tour, pointing out all the various features.
‘The little girl plays up there,’ Jack pointed to the top of the Grand Staircase.
Merch stood very still waiting. ‘What’s she doing now? Is she playing with her car?’ he whispered.
‘She’s not there right now.’
‘Owww,’ Merch frowned. ‘Where is she then?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t make her appear on demand.’
‘Pity.’
Jack showed Merch around the upstairs corridor and Room 8. Neither of them saw anything unusual. And Merch had no physical reaction to being outside Room 8.
‘So, what happens now?’
‘We wait. Some shifts things happen, some shifts nothing happens.’
‘Okay. What do you want to do then?’
‘What do you want to do?’
As usual, Merch had come prepared. He pulled a bouncy rubber ball from his pocket.
‘A game of Two Square?’
The floor in the dining room proved to be a very serviceable Two Square court, even without lines to denote the squares. That was followed by some hide and seek, for which Jack’s familiarity with the hotel provided a natural advantage, a hit of indoor cricket and some sliding down the banister races on the Grand Staircase.
Soon though the novelty wore off and tiredness set in. Jack retired to the reception booth. Merch amused himself going through the various flyers and advertising material.
‘You need to upgrade these flyers, buddy.’ He shuffled through one by one. ‘Wobby’s World? That place closed in the 80s.’
Jack was only half listening.
‘It’s a very train heavy selection. I never knew we had so many train-based attractions.’
As Merch talked a competing sound distracted Jack. The dreaded whistling. He sat bolt upright, as did the hairs on his neck. Merch continued babbling on. No reaction to the whistling at all.
Jack filtered out Merch’s voice and focused on the whistling. There was something about it… Lingering and sinister, it was the scariest of any of the haunting elements he had encountered. The taunting female voice calling his name a close second.
‘Merch,’ he hissed out the side of his mouth. ‘Merch! You hear that?’
Merch raised his head for a moment but quickly went back to his brochures. ‘Nope.’
The whistling steadily got louder and louder, chills creeping down Jack’s spine. The tune was one Jack couldn’t quite place. He peered nervously about, trying to locate the source of the sound. Without warning the old man appeared directly in front of him at the booth. The demented magician.
‘Hiya, Sport.’
Jack gulped. Blood trickled down the old man’s crinkly face.
Merch glanced up from the brochures and noticed Jack. Surreptitiously, he snuck his phone from his pocket. ‘Jack?’
But Jack remained transfixed. Unable to take his eyes away from the demented magician. Scared to speak. Scared to move.
The old man smiled. Not a friendly smile. He clicked his fingers. Beyond him, a figure burst down the stairs. A person on fire. The burning figure dashed about, moving in slow motion, desperately trying to extinguish the flames that engulfed him.
The slow-motion movements of the burning man were almost hypnotic. The demented magician let out a bone-chilling cackle while the man on fire danced slowly behind.
‘See ya, Sport.’
Without warning, he swung a punch at Jack’s face. Jack staggered back. Both the old guy and the man on fire disappeared before making contact.
Jack’s eyes found Merch. Merch had recorded the entire thing on his phone.
Jack wasn’t all that keen to watch the footage.
There was no choice though.
He and Merch sat in the booth, staring at the little screen. To Jack’s disappointment, he was the only one in frame. Merch had even panned about, revealing the full extent of the empty lobby. No demented magician, no man on fire. Just Jack staring straight ahead like a possessed fool, before flinching away from an invisible punch thrown by no one.
‘You wanna watch it again?’
Jack shook his head, feeling more than stupid enough. The two of them sat in silence for a long time.
‘I think I figured out what’s going on,’ Merch offered. Jack looked at him. ‘You’re crazy.’
Jack knew it was a case of Merch being Merch, trying to add some levity to the moment. Unsurprisingly it didn’t make him feel a whole lot better. And if he was honest with himself, watching the video on the phone, he was thinking much the same thing.
23
Not Engaging
Jack meandered along the path, between the apartments of The Community, surrounded by a lush greenery. They certainly paid a lot of attention to their gardens. A woman watched him from one of the windows. Did she know of him? Had her Mum mentioned him? Her disappointment of a son?
Jack’s Mum seemed pleased to see him, although on her guard. Surprise visits weren’t very common from Jack. She offered him a drink and fixed herself a cup of tea.
‘What’s she like?’
‘Who?’
‘Tsk. "Who?" Miss Daniels.’
‘Oh, old. She’s nice. A bit lonely I think.’
‘Poor thing. Probably spent too much time counting her billions to make friends.’
Jack decided to drop it. This petty, jealous side of his Mum was something he wasn’t familiar with. Besides, his visit ha
d a specific purpose. He told her all about the ghosts and noises and whatever else might be going on at the hotel. The story was met with polite nods from his Mother. Jack waited for her to respond in some way but she didn’t.
‘You believe me, don’t you, Mum?’
Her lips curled into a tight smile as she carefully considered her response. ‘It’s not about belief… I know you.’
‘That’s insulting.’
‘It’s insulting to say I know my son?’
‘You’re inferring you don’t believe me because you know me.’
‘Do you remember when you were a little boy… The man across the road? I think his name was Steven.’
‘Mr Stevens.’ Jack screwed up his face, fully aware where the story was headed.
‘Mr Stevens. That was it. He worked at the bank. But for whatever reason, you decided —’
‘Mum —’
‘— that he was a terrorist. No, wait. An arms dealer. Lord knows how you even knew what an arms dealer was at that age.’
‘I’m sure I’m not the only kid who has mistaken an adult’s identity.’
‘No, but you are the only kid who rang the police and warned them about Mr Stevens and told them if there was any arms dealing activity in the country he should be their number one suspect and arrested immediately.’
‘That was one time —’
‘No, that was one of the times. You want other examples? How about the time you —’
‘Okay, okay.’ Jack threw his hands up in the air, hoping to stop her. ‘You make it sound like I was the boy who cried wolf.’
‘No, you made the boy who cried wolf seem like a reliable source of information. Not that you ever did it mischievously. It’s a gift. You can see things others don’t. Things that aren’t unnecessarily there.’
Jack pouted, trying not to catch her eye.
‘There’s nothing wrong with it, Jack. We all see the world differently. Your world has a touch more spice to it.’
Black Hotel Page 9
