under one time — maybe this is just after they got laid when she’s all compliant and softened up … and he shows her a picture of Clarence Judge.’
‘There isn’t a picture of Clarence Judge with that scar.’
‘Just because there isn’t one in the book doesn’t mean there
‘Bloody hell.’
‘It’s her line, Bobby! Hers and only hers. It’s widely known. You go through Marcus’s files, you’ll see that damn line used as a headline on at least two profiles of Callard.’
‘You’re saying there’s no ghost. No Clarence outside of Seffi’s mind?’
‘I think that’s what I’m saying.’
‘So what about the other stuff. The smell? You even said you smelled it, at-’
‘Yeah, yeah, the bad dick smell. Well, she’s a powerful psychic. She can blow out windows, she can fake Chaucer. To me, that’s all entirely rational, and to a lot of scientists also. And, by the same rules, the smell’s coming out of her. She’s got this obnoxious Clarence so deep in her subconscious she’s producing an associated stink. Maybe Clarence never smelled like that in his life, maybe he washed his dick scrupulously every night, I wouldn’t know about that and neither would Callard. You have to excuse me here, Bobby. I’m thinking this out as I go along.’
‘So this “lines are open” post-hypnotic suggestion thing is angled on the seance which Kurt set up for Seward in Cheltenham, right? You think Kurt was there all the time?’
‘Probably in the back room, out of sight. Callard mustn’t know it’s him … what’s
‘And maybe,’ Bobby said, ‘under normal circumstances, Kurt would have erased the instruction from Seffi’s mind. But it messed her up so much and she ran so hard …’
‘Whatever, he didn’t get to erase it, did he? So whenever she comes out with the trademark phrase, there’s old Clarence, in all his filthy glory. No wonder she went half-crazy. Hypnosis gone wrong can screw up ordinary people, hypnosis of a sensitive with psycho-kinetic abilities … that’s potentially devastating.
‘Because he’s promised to get rid of it.’
‘In return for one special appearance, to put a cool spin on a mock-Victorian seance? Does that sound enough to you, Bobby? Does that sound worth all this …
‘They just kicked me around a bit. I thought they’d stabbed me at first, but they just knew where to kick. Me dad wouldn’t even have felt it.’
‘You’re lying. You can’t get up …’
Dear God, for a few minutes it had felt real good, putting it all together, talking it all out. You could forget … She moved a hand lightly over Bobby’s face, feeling the bumps of dried blood.
‘Those bastards,’ she sobbed. ‘They’re like some private secret police force.’
‘That’s what they are,’ he said. ‘They are a private police force run by an ex-senior policeman who knows exactly how far he can go.’
‘This is Britain!’
She felt him smile.
‘Doesn’t even have to be very secret any more. Several security companies are operating close to the edge. Riggs is quite bitter. He liked being a policeman.’
‘He hires out a Forcefield team to Seward?’
‘No, to Campbell. It’s probably a hand-picked unit consisting of those particular employees he knows are open to a sub-contract, under the table —
‘So, like the Forcefield guy Seward brought over to Mysleton …’
‘It was Seward with the dead guy. He came himself, didn’t I say? I forgot what I told you and what I told Cindy. Bobby, why would he do that? Why would he come himself, with all that money?’
‘Because he loves it,’ Bobby said. ‘He needs that old thrill.’
‘Jesus. What an unbelievable monster.’
‘Or maybe just a sad old bugger,’ Bobby said wearily. ‘On reflection, though, I do think you carved up the wrong man.’
‘Did you see him? Did you see Seward?’
‘No. They just kicked me about a bit, tossed me in the back of a van, bag over the head, like you. I’d guess this came from Riggs, rather than Seward. He saw me … or somebody else saw me. Some of them will be disenchanted ex-coppers.’
‘Bobby, do you wanna try and stand up?’
‘I think I’ll just lie here for a while,’ Bobby said. ‘If that’s OK.’
Incredibly, Grayle slept.
Incredibly, she had a warm, fuzzy dream in which they were at home in the cottage in St Mary’s, with a big log fire, the flames reflected by the crystals and the paste gems in the poodle collar around the neck of Anubis, the tame Egyptian god of the dead.
And this metamorphosed into a lucid kind of dream — a dream of what she knew was a near-death experience. Not the awful kind which Bobby had, but the traditional light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel kind. The one where you didn’t want to go back.
It was wonderful, and when she awoke she awoke into light.
‘Both of you,’ the Forcefield voice said. ‘Get away from each other. Stand up.’
L
The renovation of Overcross Castle was like a half-finished portrait, Cindy thought, the central features blocked in and coloured, the rest little more than a scribble. On the first-floor landing, the paint faded off with the lighting, into greyness, shadows and dust-cloth ghosts.
Vera indicated to Cindy the alcove concealing Room Three, then pointed up at her stiff Victorian waitress’s cap and down towards the kitchens to signify she would be needed soon to serve dinner to the visiting nobs. From below, Cindy could hear the sounds of polite laughter, clinking glasses.
When Vera was gone, he moved quietly into the alcove — quietly because the door was ajar and there were voices from within.
A problem. He needed to see Persephone Callard alone.
But, in the end, he didn’t.
Standing in the shadow of the alcove, becoming still as a monolith, his breathing as light as a bird’s, he heard,
‘… even have to stay the night. I’ll have a car waiting. We’ll get you out of here before midnight, I swear.’
Kurt Campbell. In a state.
‘… can’t believe it,’ Miss Callard saying. ‘Can’t believe you or anybody could be so utterly, insanely …’
‘Look … yes … all right … call me nai-’
‘
‘Greedy. Power-hungry. Hey, call me what you fucking like, I’m at the stage I don’t really care. All I’m saying … if you finish this you’ll never hear from me again, you’ll never hear from Seward and you’ll never … be troubled by
