‘Danny, come here, let’s get you cleaned up.’
Nevile said, ‘He’s a spirit, Frank. You can’t clean him up. You can’t even touch him. He isn’t there.’
Frank turned around. ‘What the hell do you mean, he isn’t here? I can see him and I can hear him and he’s been hurt, and that’s good enough for me.’
‘Frank—’
But as Frank turned back again, Danny let out a scream of terror and hurtled against the wall. Then he was flung across the hallway, hitting his head and his shoulder against the leg of the side table. A glass vase toppled off the table and smashed on the floor. Danny slid feet-first toward the front door, as if he were being dragged by his ankles.
Frank tried to grab his hands and pull him back. He felt a sharp slice across his knuckles but there was nothing there. No hands, no Danny. Danny had vanished, instantly, in the same way that he had appeared. Frank stood up, shaking, confused, blood dripping from his elbow. He had cut himself on a curved piece of broken glass vase.
‘What happened? Where is he?’
‘I told you, Frank. You could see him but he wasn’t there.’
‘He knocked the vase off the table! If he wasn’t there, how could he knock the vase off the table?’
‘Psychokinetic energy, that’s all, like a poltergeist. Here, come into the kitchen. Let’s take a look at that cut.’
‘He was there, Nevile. He was right there in front of me.’
‘I know. I saw him too. But he was only in our minds.’
The dumpy cook stared disapprovingly as Nevile held Frank’s knuckles under cold running water. Then Nevile tore off a sheet of paper towel for him, so that he could dry his hand and stem the bleeding.
‘There – it’s not serious. You’ll live.’
‘That looked so much like Danny . . . I just can’t get my head round it.’
‘I know, Frank, but it wasn’t him. I think it was probably the same spirit we saw on your patio.’
‘But why? What does it want?’
‘I imagine it’s trying to tell you something, trying to explain something to you, but God alone knows what. Spirits are like the Oracle of Delphi. They have a frustrating habit of speaking in riddles, and suggestions, and hints.’
They went out on to the deck and Frank sat down, still trembling. Nevile opened the bottle of wine and handed him a glass. ‘Unless you’d rather have a brandy?’
‘No, this is fine.’
Nevile sat opposite him, and held his glass of wine up to the sunlight. ‘Beautiful color, isn’t it? Pure gold.’
‘What do I do now?’ Frank asked him.
‘Under normal circumstances I’d say forget it, leave well enough alone.’
‘But these aren’t normal circumstances, are they?’
‘No. And I think that your first instinct was right. You’re being led somewhere, for some reason. It may be nothing more than a prank. Some dead people have a very strange sense of humor. But I don’t think this is being done for fun. We need to find out what this spirit is trying to say to you, and urgently.’
Thirteen
On the six o’clock television news, anchorwoman Chris Chan announced that the LAPD Anti-Terrorism Unit had released further information about Richard Haze Abbott, the driver of the Movieble Feast catering truck.
‘Abbott was a student at Simi Valley High School but was excluded from classes at the age of sixteen for disruptive behavior. Between 1994 and 1996 he took a number of casual jobs, including painting and decorating, roofing, and taxi-driving, but he was unable to hold down any job for longer than a few weeks. According to several of his past employers, he was “argumentative”, “insubordinate”, and “downright weird.” In October of 1996 Abbott joined a commune of thirty-five people based in the mountains near Escondido, in San Diego County. The members of this commune called themselves the Air Traffic Controllers because they believed it was their mission in life to guide alien spacecraft to land on Earth.
‘During this time Abbott was arrested for a number of minor offenses including petty theft and vandalism. In 1998 he was sentenced to three years’ imprisonment at Vista Detention Facility for drug trafficking and carrying a concealed weapon. In jail he came under the influence of a well-known Islamic agitator, Ibn Athir, who was serving five years for passport forgery. Athir persuaded Abbott to convert to Islam. On his release Abbott joined a splinter group of Islamic activists calling themselves the Sons and Daughters of Iblis – SADI for short.
‘A police raid on SADI’s headquarters in Reseda in August of 2002 revealed explosive materials, firearms and a large quantity of subversive literature. A warrant was issued for Abbott’s arrest, but it was believed that he managed to cross the border into Mexico and he was never apprehended.’
The next shot was of Richard Abbott’s mother outside the family home in Simi Valley – a fat, plain woman with greasy hair and a soiled pink T-shirt. ‘Richie was a bright boy all right, but his father used to beat seven kinds of bleep out of him for no reason that I could ever tell, and he was bullied at school, too. I’d say that he was always unhappy, all his life, and what he’s done – this bombing – well, I can’t say that I was surprised. Richie was always saying that one day he was going to get his own back. He used to say people who treat you like you’re nothing, they don’t deserve nothing. They don’t even deserve to live nor breathe.’
Chris Chan said, ‘Today, police and FBI admit that they are still no closer to identifying the leaders of Dar Tariki Tariqat, although they have discovered that the explosives used in the
Campbell was shown on screen, looking harassed. ‘We shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that these crimes were perpetrated by amateurs or crazed fanatics. These people know exactly what they’re doing, they’ve been planning this for a long, long time and so far they’re still one step ahead of us. All I can do is repeat my earlier warnings that everybody in Los Angeles, particularly those involved with the entertainment industry, must be extra vigilant. If in any doubt, call nine-one-one.’
‘Meanwhile, Charles Lasser, the owner of Star-TV, announced that Star is determined to defy Dar Tariki Tariqat by running all of its normal schedules, including its steamy daytime serial
Charles Lasser was seen climbing out of his chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. ‘The day I change one second of Star-TV’s scheduled programs because I’m afraid of some wild-eyed lunatics in nightgowns, that’s the day I’m going to lock myself in my office with a bottle of whiskey and shoot myself.’
Charles Lasser’s determination not to be intimidated by the terrorists had trebled his audience overnight, so he claimed, and boosted Star-TV’s advertising revenues by more than seventeen percent. ‘But I’m not doing this to make money – every extra penny of profit is going into my reward fund. I want to see these sons of bitches stamped out and I don’t care if it takes a hundred million dollars to do it.’
A news reporter asked him if he wasn’t recklessly endangering his employees and his studio audiences.
‘None of my employees is obliged to show up for work during the current crisis if he or she feels that the risk is unacceptable. Nobody who makes this choice will be penalized in any way, and they will be welcome back at Star-TV once the crisis is over. Members of the public who come to our studios to take part in live TV shows or other entertainments will have to sign a waiver absolving Star-TV from any claim for death or injury. But our security is second to none, and the choice to be part of a studio audience is entirely theirs.’
Frank said to Astrid, ‘Isn’t that generous? Even if you’re too chicken shit to show up for work, Charlie Lasser will still welcome you back with open arms once the bombing’s stopped. Notice how he doesn’t promise that you’ll get your old job back. Vice president in charge of international syndication before the bombing; toilet attendant afterward.’
