“You couldn’t eat and drink all of that if we were travelling all the way to Land’s End,” Melody said sternly from the seat opposite him, studying him over the top of her new briefing file.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” said Happy, ripping open a packet of Jaffa Cakes and delicately dipping one into his cup of Pepsi. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before!”
“Because it’s illegal and immoral; and messing with people’s heads is just wrong?” said Melody.
“No…” said Happy. “I’m pretty sure that isn’t it…Ooh, chocolate HobNobs!”
Melody sighed loudly and went back to her briefing file.
Sitting on his own on the other side of the compartment, staring out the window without seeing anything of the scenery racing by, JC ignored them both. He was still thinking about Kim’s unexpected reappearance at Bradleigh Halt. The same questions kept coming back to him, rolling over and over in his head. Why had she chosen to appear to him there, after all this time? Why not before? Because he was in danger…No. He’d been in peril of his life on any number of previous occasions; and she hadn’t shown up for any of those. Had something changed…with her, or with him? Could it be she’d finally broken free from her unknown captors and was waiting for him to come and find her…? So many questions, and not one answer he could trust.
So stick with the cases that came his way, keep himself busy and occupied, and be ready to jump when the opportunity arose.
Happy stuffed his face with junk food, drank fizzy stuff straight from the can, and made a point of looking down his nose at the various smart-suit-and-tie business men sharing the first-class compartment with him. All of them tapping busily away at their laptops and doing their very best not to stare too openly at the strange creature that had invaded their territory.
“The train will be coming into Leicester soon,” said Melody, glaring meaningfully at Happy and JC. “And, for once, it would be nice if we could all arrive knowing why we were there.”
“She’s going into lecture mode,” Happy said to JC. “Indulge her. She’ll only make a fuss otherwise, and I can feel one of my heads coming on. Try and keep it down to a précis, Melody, there’s a dear. Some of us have important eating and drinking to be getting on with. Or important existential brooding, in JC’s case.”
“Go ahead, Melody,” JC said courteously, not looking around. “Distract me. I could use something else to think about.”
“We’ve been called in to investigate a suspected haunting at the old Haybarn Theatre, in the city of Leicester,” said Melody.
She looked around to see if any of the business men were paying attention…but they all gave every appearance of being absorbed in their work. Possibly in self-defence.
“Ooh, the theatre!” said Happy, unexpectedly. “Does that mean we’ll get free tickets for the shows?”
Melody actually lowered her file to get a better look at him. “Since when have you ever been interested in going to the theatre?”
“Take your freebies where you can find them, that’s what I say,” Happy said complacently.
“Well, unless we can sort this mess out, it doesn’t look like there’s going to be any more shows at the Haybarn,” said Melody, returning to her file. “Says here, the place was shut down twenty years ago. It was about to be restored and reopened…But recently there’s been a series of unnatural happenings. The workmen have downed tools and scattered, and restoration has ground to a halt.”
“This is all starting to sound depressingly familiar,” said JC.
“There’s no way this case could turn out as complicated as Bradleigh Halt,” said Melody.
“God, I hope not,” said Happy. “I mean: Ghost Callers, trains full of insane souls, and people wandering around with sawn-off heads…Why can’t things be simple, now and again?”
“Quiet in the stalls,” said Melody. “Keep the noise down and pay attention; or after all this is over, I won’t take you back to our hotel room and play medical experiments with you.”
“Far too much information,” said JC, shuddering genteelly. He turned around to look at Melody, doing his best to appear professional and interested. “What kind of unnatural happenings are we talking about here, Melody? Actual ghosts, with names and histories and legends?”
“No actual visitors from the spirit realms, as far as I can see,” said Melody. “Only voices, glimpses, bad feelings…all the usual atmospherics. General unease and a certain amount of What Was That?”
Happy frowned. “Why have we been called in for such a minor haunting? I thought we were officially an A team now? Not that I am in any way keen on throwing myself into danger; but I’m damned if I’m giving up on the danger money. It’s not the principle of the thing, you understand; it’s the money, every time.”
“Apparently,” said Melody, in that particular tone of voice that meant she suspected much but could prove little, “a homeless guy found his way into the Haybarn and was discovered there the next day, quite dead. Possibly frightened to death. The workmen and restorers have refused point-blank to go back into the building, until Something Is Done…”
Happy sighed heavily. “That still doesn’t explain why we…”
“The Boss is sending us in as a personal favour for an old friend,” said JC.
“Wish she’d do one for us,” growled Happy. “Like approving my expense claims without laughing in my face.”
“Dear Catherine Latimer, our revered Boss and leader of us all, spoke to me personally about this,” said JC, and the other two immediately gave him their full attention. JC smiled faintly. “I was phoning in a preliminary report on what had gone down at Bradleigh Halt, when she broke in. Which is a bit like going to confessional and having God herself butt in. She said some very nice things about how we’d handled the mission, which should have been a warning in itself. The Boss has never been one for honeyed words when a whip and a chair are so much more effective. She said that she wants us on this case precisely because we did such a good job at Bradleigh. Which, of course, suggests to me that there must be a hell of a lot more to this theatre haunting than we are being told.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” said Happy. He glowered at the food piled up before him and pushed it away, his appetite gone. For the moment.
“I have to wonder,” said JC, “whether Catherine Latimer, her own bad self, is deliberately keeping us busy and occupied with one case after another, so we won’t go off on our own to look for Kim.”
There was a pause then as JC looked meaningfully at Happy and Melody, and they both looked at each other so they wouldn’t have to look at him. None of them had to say anything. They’d already talked themselves hoarse on the subject and knew exactly what the others thought and believed. None of them was ready to give up their various positions.
“The Boss says she’s got all her best people investigating the infiltration of the Carnacki Institute,” Melody said finally.
“She
“No,” JC said immediately. “We have to trust the Boss in that, at least. Or we’re completely on our own.”
“When you spoke to her,” Melody said carefully, “did you happen to mention seeing Kim at Bradleigh Halt?”
“No,” said JC.
“So we don’t trust her that much…” said Happy.
“When we’ve got anything worth telling her, then I’ll tell her,” said JC. “One sighting doesn’t make a summer.”
“Or one swallow make an orgy,” said Melody.
“Who knows?” said Happy. “If Kim really is your guardian angel now, guardian ghost, whatever…Maybe she’ll turn up again, at the theatre.”
“Stranger things have happened,” said Melody. “Usually to us.”
She carried on reading aloud from the briefing file, and the others pretended to listen to her. Happy leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, the better to concentrate.
A very modern taxi took the Ghost Finders straight from the railway station to the Haybarn Theatre, situated right in the middle of the city centre. It was a grey, overcast day, with lowering clouds and the threat of thunder.
