plan, some grand design.’ He waved his hand in the air, ash from the cigarette falling like petals.
‘A plan created by whom?’ Jane’s forehead was as furrowed as a farmer’s field at seed planting time.
‘Whoever or what ever is controlling things on this island.’ Carter savagely ground out his cigarette.
She chewed her lip as she considered this. ‘Let’s go back to the others. They deserve an explanation. I also want to hear what else Bayliss has got to say for himself.’ She paused, her hand on the doorknob. ‘How did he know about you?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘But he addressed you by name, so he obviously knows who you are. You’ve never met him before?’
Carter shook his head. ‘No. I’d remember. He also knows about the Department, so he’s obviously done his homework,’ Carter said. ‘I think there’s a lot he needs to tell us.’
‘I agree,’ Jane said. ‘Let’s go back in.’
There was silence in the room as they reentered. Bayliss hadn’t moved from his chair; the others were seated at the table, ignoring him and each other. Kirby looked anxiously at them as they came in. ‘What’s going on?’ she said, giving voice to what they were all thinking.
Carter pulled a chair away from the table and set it down in front of Bayliss, a yard away. He took out a cigarette and offered Bayliss the pack. The younger man shook his head.
‘Shouldn’t there be a spotlight directed at my eyes and electrodes attached to my genitals?’ Bayliss said.
Jane smiled ruefully. ‘Don’t tempt me.’
Carter looked up from lighting his cigarette, squinting slightly as the smoke stung his eyes. ‘This isn’t an interrogation. We just want some answers from you.’
‘I won’t split hairs about the semantics of that statement. Anyway I’m happy to tell you anything you want to know.’ He smiled across at Kirby and raised his empty coffee mug. ‘Any chance?’
Kirby glared at him, but then the glare softened into a faint smile and she came over, took his mug and disappeared back to the kitchen.
‘So what are you really doing here?’ Carter said.
Bayliss sat back in his seat, totally relaxed. ‘Research,’ he said. ‘For a book I’m writing.’
Carter nodded. ‘The subject being what exactly?’
‘Kulsay, and places like Kulsay. Sites of great evil.’
‘Well Kulsay certainly has an unusual history, but I’d hardly call the island a
‘Which just goes to prove that you really have no idea what you’ve wandered into,’ Bayliss said.
‘Well, I’m sure you’re going to tell us,’ Jane said.
Bayliss grinned at her. ‘But of course.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bayliss took a swig from his coffee. ‘Up until the eighteenth century Kulsay was uninhabited. There had been a few attempts to colonize the place before then but the colonists found conditions too harsh. There may have been other reasons why no one stayed very long on the island even then, but there’s nothing documented.
‘In 1720 a wealthy Spaniard called Alphonse deMarco arrived in Aberdeen and bought a large house just outside the city, Farley Grange. In the research I’ve done on him I’ve seen him described as an alchemist and a necromancer. He might even have been both…or neither; the records about him up until then are pretty vague. Either way his arrival certainly stirred up the local population.
‘He brought a large entourage across from Spain with him and filled Farley Grange. Before long there was talk of very un-Christian things going on at his house — weird ceremonies, strange rituals, as well as more lurid tales of all sorts of debauchery. To make matters worse he was a very attractive man, with great charisma and charm, and he had no trouble enticing younger, more impressionable members of society to his house for wild parties. Many stayed on after the parties, and after eighteen months it’s said that there were more than sixty bodies inhabiting Farley Grange, and indulging in what ever forbidden pleasures deMarco was offering.
‘There was an incident in 1724 when a young girl, the daughter of one of the local dignitaries, was found dead in the forest surrounding the Grange. She’d been badly mutilated. Her eyes and tongue had been ripped out. DeMarco was arrested, almost as a matter of course, and he stood trial for her murder. But the case was dismissed when it was proved that deMarco hadn’t been in the country when the girl was murdered. He was released and he returned to Farley Grange, but by now public opinion, which had always been set fairly against him, sunk to an all-time low. The local population engaged in what can only be described as a witch hunt. Mysterious fires were started at the Grange and several of his followers were beaten up when they ventured into town. There were no processions of angry villagers holding flaming torches but from what I’ve read, that would have probably been the next stage.’
Bayliss drained his coffee and set the mug down by the side of his chair. When he looked up again he saw that everyone in the room was sitting, silently, waiting for him to continue. He had them hooked, and he liked that. Storytelling was in his blood; a direct line from his grandfather. The old man would be proud to see him now.
‘DeMarco realized he was, to put it mildly, no longer welcome in the area, so he bought Kulsay Island. He had a house built and moved everyone across. Suddenly he had total freedom to indulge his excesses, and the stories that filtered back across to the mainland were even more extreme than those that had preceded them. And, for him, the beauty of it was that there was no one to bring him to book. There are reports of massive cruelties carried out on the island, even human sacrifice. But then all the stories stop. There’s no record of anything at all on Kulsay from 1734 through to 1746. Then the records pick up again.
‘I had to search for months before I turned up anything else about deMarco, but I finally found an old book in the British library. It’s called Soldiers of God and was written in the early nineteenth century by Bishop Everard Hislop. Basically it’s a history of the Jesuits. I won’t bore you with the details prior to 1736, but the chapter that interested me contains a record of that year
‘Apparently stories about deMarco and his followers reached the ears of Pope Benedict XIV. Around that time Benedict was trying to strengthen the moral influence of the papacy, so he decided to intercede in what was happening on Kulsay; his theory being that if he could turn deMarco and his followers back to the path of righteousness it would be seen as a shining example of the power, not only of Christianity, but of the Roman Catholic Church in general.
‘He assigned a Scottish bishop, Archibald Prime, to go over to the island and turn these lost sheep back to the way of God. Nothing was heard of Prime for about six months, but then it emerged that, far from turning deMarco and the others back to Christianity, Prime had in fact been turned by deMarco.
‘Of course, the Pope was furious. Benedict himself was highly respected by both Protestants and Catholics alike, and he was seen to be one of the more enlightened pontiffs of the 1700s, but he’d been made to look a fool, and that was a situation he couldn’t allow to flourish. So he called in a man commonly known as
‘I hate to interrupt,’ Carter said. ‘But where’s all this leading?’ He was surprised how much of what Bayliss was saying mirrored the information he had uncovered.
Bayliss frowned. ‘You wanted to know what is happening on Kulsay so you can deal with it,’ he said. ‘Without an understanding of the island’s history, you may as well be pissing in the dark. This stuff is important because it explains why the island is as it is.’
‘Let him continue, Robert,’ Jane said. She was fascinated by what Bayliss had said so far, though she couldn’t yet see what events from three hundred years ago had to do with Kulsay today.
Carter shrugged and sat back in his seat.
‘Thank you,’ Bayliss said. ‘Where was I?’
‘
‘Ah, yes,
