The Rain-Soaked Bride

by Guy Adams

  He kept his eyes ahead. Pushing on, even as he was sure the presence that pursued them was almost touching.

  Just a few steps more.

  He could feel a chill on his neck, something reaching out.

  Then a cold wind, and a late-winter afternoon sky, beginning to grow dim.

  He shuffled to the verge, carefully dropped Fratfield onto the grass and turned back to see the car, only a few feet away. It looked like it had been in a major collision, smashed on both sides with the roof compressed almost flat.

  Fratfield groaned, his hands going to his face as he came around. ‘What happened?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you remember?’

  Fratfield sat up and stared at the smashed car. ‘I remember running from that while something tried to kill us. I remember thinking that you could keep your Section 37. You still can. I like an enemy that, when all else fails, I can shoot in the head.’

  ‘No more transfer for you, then?’ Toby smiled. He had thought for one moment that Fratfield was going to say that he remembered none of it. That Toby would have been left trying to explain something the SIS officer was unlikely to believe.

  ‘No,’ Fratfield replied. Toby helped him to his feet.

  ‘How did I get out?’

  ‘By almost dislocating my shoulder,’ Toby told him.

  ‘You carried me? Thanks.’ Fratfield seemed slightly uncomfortable at the thought.

  ‘It’s fine, I won’t remind you how I saved your life every day. Just once a week or so.’

  ‘That’s good. Because, unlike whatever that thing was, you can be shot in the head.’

  ‘Such gratitude. Come on, we’ve got a short walk ahead of us.’

  As they walked up the road towards Lufford Hall, Toby looked around them, trying to catch sign of anyone else out here. If what they had experienced was some kind of curse then Cassandra’s advice was lodged in his memory. The person who was doing the casting had to be nearby. Of course, quantifying ‘nearby’ would have been useful. Did that mean in the same postcode or stood next to you? Toby couldn’t see anyone, especially not in this fading light. There were countless places someone could have been hiding, what was the use?

  f) Lufford Hall, Alcester, Warwickshire

  It took them about twenty minutes to reach the main gate of the Hall. The security guard on duty was the same man who had let them out earlier. He gave them a distinctly suspicious look as they approached.

  Toby’s face was smeared with mud and Fratfield’s suit was torn.

  ‘Could I see your passes?’ he asked.

  ‘Piss off,’ said Fratfield, ‘and get someone to sort out the wreck of my car that’s parked about a mile down the road. If you’re that bothered about my paperwork, you might want to take a look in the pocket of my coat. It’s on the back seat. You’ll have to climb in through the window, I suspect. It’s all in there.’

  The security guard looked as if he intended to argue but clearly changed his mind and waved at the guardhouse to let them through.

  They walked up the drive towards the Hall. On the gravel forecourt they found April Shining, smoking a cigarette and staring at them as if she were a disapproving mother.

  ‘And where do you think you’ve been?’ she asked. ‘You’ve had this place in chaos.’

  Fratfield and Toby looked at one another. ‘Which of us are you talking to?’ Toby asked.

  ‘You, you daft sod, we thought you were dead. Well, for all of five minutes anyway. What’s that on your face? Have you been playing silly buggers in the garden?’

  ‘Not quite. Our car was attacked.’

  ‘So was August’s. You know, the one you were supposed to be in. And when I say “attacked”, I mean blown to kingdom come with someone in it.’

  Toby took a moment to process this. ‘Who?’

  ‘Poor Ranesh, my boss for all of five minutes.’

  Fratfield was already moving around the side of the house, wanting to see the wreckage.

  ‘There’s nothing to see,’ April told him. ‘Once we could actually get the fire out, what was left was moved into the stable block.’ She returned her attention to Toby. ‘We thought Ranesh was you until I noticed the glasses melted onto his face.’

  ‘You think it was meant to be?’

  ‘Seems likely, don’t you think?’

  ‘But what was he doing in our car?’

  ‘How am I supposed to know?’ She sighed, then grabbed him in a big hug. ‘I’m glad you’re not dead. Stupid boy. Now if you’ll excuse me, as the last remaining member of the diplomatic service, it’s my job to go and try and convince our Korean friends not to leave.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE DINNER

  a) Lufford Hall, Alcester, Warwickshire

  Tae-young was sat in her room, wishing she could dispel the smell of burning flesh from her nostrils.

  There was a knock on the door. It took Tae-young a moment to respond, to pull herself back from the mental image of a man turning crisp in artificially stoked flames.

  ‘Come,’ she said, lapsing into Korean. She didn’t have the concentration to talk in English.

  April entered, came over to the window where Tae-young was sitting and settled down into the armchair facing her.

  ‘You are hoping to convince me to stay,’ said Tae-young.

  ‘I’m sure I probably don’t have to,’ April replied. ‘Let’s be honest, both the UK and South Korea need these plans to be successful.’

  ‘But can they be in the current circumstances? Don’t misunderstand me. You know enough about my country to know that its history is no stranger to violence. We are no strangers to assassination.’ She continued to gaze out of the window. ‘My mother was there when Park Chung-hee was shot,’ she continued, ‘when his own chief of security put a bullet in his head and his chest.’

  ‘Kim Jae-kyu, director of the KCIA.’

  April chose not to mention that, during the time Kim had been head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, she in turn had been working with SIS and had, for a time, been tasked with monitoring the growing dissent over Park’s rule amongst Kim and others.

  Park’s reign had become a dictatorship and both the UK and their American allies had been very enthusiastic about the idea of the man being replaced by someone they could be seen to have more fruitful relations with. Of course, people had talked about the acts of repression committed under Park’s regime, and his threats to increase his domination over the populace. They had talked in terms of morality. Ultimately, though, governments were not overly concerned with such intangible concepts. They just wanted to monitor the troublemakers and ensure the flow of money remained constant.

  Park had been shot during a private dinner party, the conversation and increased threats of retaliation against political dissenters allegedly driving Kim to take his leave, fetch a gun and then return with murder on his mind. The argument as to whether it had been a political act, a murder bred of jealousy (Kim’s career was on a downward turn thanks to the influence of Park’s chief bodyguard) or even an act of espionage instigated by the CIA, was still ongoing over thirty years. Well, thought April, ongoing amongst those who didn’t know as much as she did.

  Tae-young nodded. ‘She was part of the waiting staff. She wasn’t in the room at the time, though she often used to wonder what would have happened had she been.’

  ‘That’s life in this business,’ April admitted. ‘It’s all a matter of luck.’

  ‘Today has not been lucky. Two of your people are dead.’

  ‘Yes.’ Tae-young had been informed of Lucy Baxter’s death and any attempt to write it off as an accident had floundered given what had happened to Ranesh.

  ‘And before them,’ Tae-young continued, ‘three others.’

  ‘But that can’t stop us.’

  ‘Why? Because that would mean the assassin had succeeded?’

  ‘Partly.’

  Tae-young nodded. ‘I can understand that. And yet, if we stay, who will be next?’
>
  ‘So far there is no indication that the assassin has any interest in attacking your party.’

  Tae-young looked angry. ‘I am not only thinking of the lives of my people, I would not be so selfish. My point is that, as long as this conference continues, people’s lives are in jeopardy.’

  ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to suggest you were being selfish. And yes, there is no guarantee that Ranesh will be the last. But these talks must be resolved, and will be one way or another, through us or someone else. They will happen here and now or somewhere else later, where the same risk will apply until we catch whoever is behind this. All we can do is trust in those who are doing their best to keep us alive and hope that they find the killer before they can strike again. That’s their job.’

  ‘And are they any good at it?’

  April struggled to answer that one. ‘Do you believe in the supernatural?’

  ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

  April knew that she wasn’t supposed to explain the work of Section 37 or the reasoning behind their presence here but, to hell with it, the only way she could keep Tae-young onside was to be open with her. ‘You’ll understand when I explain. Do you?’

  Tae-young sighed. ‘It’s not only violence my country understands, we have as long a history of myth and legend as you do. I can’t say it’s something I think much about. My grandfather used to claim he could speak to spirits. As a child I found the idea fascinating and terrifying but now … If you are a woman in politics you become …’

  ‘Single-minded. I know.’

  April took a deep breath and then explained the background of the three deaths that had brought both her and her brother to Lufford Hall in the first place. It occurred to her as she was explaining that GCHQ had likely put listening devices in the room and that, even now, her name was being dragged through the dirt.

  ‘But that’s …’ Tae-young struggled to find the words.

  ‘Unbelievable, yes. In that, both you and my government superiors agree. Nonetheless, the unbelievable is what my brother deals with every day. Has done so through his entire interminable career. The point is: even Clive King couldn’t dismiss the possibility and that is why August is here. And, in my experience, which is almost as long as his, he will be the only man who can put a stop to this. That opinion certainly isn’t shared by the likes of Mark Rowlands or his team and, rest assured, they are doing their best to address this in a more conventional manner.’ April didn’t believe a word of that but couldn’t see any mileage in badmouthing Rowlands to Tae-young – all that would do was increase her concerns.

  ‘I don’t know if I can believe it,’ Tae-young admitted.

  ‘You don’t have to, I suppose,’ said April. ‘All you have to do is know that you are surrounded by people who are working to bring this to an end. That is their business and this, talking, is ours. The sooner we get on and finish the conversation, the sooner we shall all be safe.’

  Tae-young nodded. ‘Very well, we shall see this through. As you say, it’s not as if I have much choice anyway. Can you imagine my government’s response were I to order everyone to pull out? I’d be lucky to still have an office by the time I flew back home.’

  ‘At least I have the advantage on you there,’ April admitted. ‘There’s nothing my people can threaten me with, I’m long retired. If I walked out of here right now there’s not a bloody thing they could do about it.’

  ‘So why do you stay?’

  ‘Free meals and central heating. Never underestimate the draw of luxury to an old woman.’

  Tae-young laughed and April leaned over and kissed her hand. ‘It’ll be fine,’ she said, ‘probably.’

  She got up and left the woman to organise her thoughts.

  In the corridor, Clive King was staring up at a particularly bland watercolour hunting scene.

  ‘Afternoon, darling,’ said April, standing behind him. ‘If you’re looking for tips on how to corner prey, I’m happy to guide you.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Impossible woman. I can’t believe they let you come. No, actually, I imagine you gave them no choice. I just wish I’d had some warning.’

  ‘Old ghosts chill so deeply, don’t they, sweetie? If it’s any consolation, I’ve convinced Miss Son to continue with the talks.’

  ‘I had no doubt you would.’ He smiled and nodded towards the door. ‘I heard you were in there and thought it best to leave you to it. There’s not a man or woman born more capable of persuading someone to do something than you.’

  ‘Why, Clive! I do believe that was a compliment. Or a justification for our brief dalliance in years gone by.’

  He shook his head. ‘I needed no justification for that. You were impossible to resist then and impossible now.’

  ‘Oh my Lord! Are you flirting?’

  He smiled. ‘Not really. I’m happily married, a grandfather three times over, my enthusiasm for naughty liaisons in stately homes has long since waned. I was just saying I have no regrets.’

  ‘Nor should you,’ she said, taking his arm, ‘there are many who would have killed to have spent the night with me.’

  He wisely decided not to reply to that, changing the subject onto safer ground. ‘Has your brother made any headway?’

  April shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. It’s all such a mess. Don’t worry, though, he’s as shockingly resourceful as me. If anyone can get us out of this place alive, it’s August.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m afraid Rowlands is a little put out that I allowed Section 37 to come.’

  ‘Tough, a bit of healthy competition never hurt anyone. If Mr Rowlands is so convinced he can keep us safe, let him prove as much. Did he get anywhere with his examination of the car?’

  ‘He doesn’t really have the expertise. He’s convinced that the explosive must have been attached before you came here. But I think that’s purely because he doesn’t want to admit that someone could have breached his security and planted it.’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible,’ April admitted. ‘It’s the work of moments to attach a magnetic charge on the underside of a car. Someone might have thought we made a useful little Trojan Horse, an easy way of sneaking a bomb into the grounds.’

  ‘He has an explosives man on his way who may be able to tell us more. If nothing else, it is at least a physical threat. One we can understand.’

  ‘None of that silly hocus pocus!’

  ‘Exactly. By which I mean no insult to your brother. But I am always going to feel more comfortable if I think we’re facing something that is within the realm of my understanding. Bastards throwing bombs at us, that I can deal with. This stuff about curses …’

  ‘He’s talked to you, then?’

  ‘We had a brief chat earlier. I left feeling I had just talked to someone very knowledgeable, even if none of that knowledge had rubbed off.’

  ‘That’s August. Leave him to do his thing, it’s not for you to worry about. At least not right now.’ Her brother’s advice occurred to her. ‘The important thing to remember is very simple: accept nothing from anyone. If August is right, the curse has to be passed physically to you. If you never take anything from anyone then you should be safe.’

  King shook his head. ‘It’s all beyond me, but yes, he told me much the same thing.’ He smiled. ‘Which will make passing the port a nightmare at dinner.’

  b) Lufford Hall, Alcester, Warwickshire

  Toby found Shining in his room on the basement level. He was muttering under his breath and placing a stubby candle on his bedside table. Toby assumed this was the conclusion of their stroll around the gardens earlier. He stayed in the doorway for a moment, not wanting to interrupt. Then, when it appeared that Shining had finished, he stepped inside.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I believe we’ve both had annoying afternoons.’

  Shining looked up at him and the momentary look of pleasure he saw in the old man’s eyes meant the world to him.

  ‘Thought you were going to have to
be the only one who remembered to buy milk for the office again, did you?’ Toby asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Shining admitted. ‘But at least I would, once again, have had sole control of the radio.’

  ‘It was a close-run thing,’ Toby told him, ‘though not for the reasons you thought.’ He explained what had happened to him and Fratfield on their way back to the Hall.

  ‘Fascinating,’ said Shining.

  ‘Again with the enthusiasm,’ Toby replied. ‘One day, you’ll have the decency not to view my brushes with hell as something to relish.’

  ‘As we’ve already established,’ said Shining with a smile, ‘you’re still alive so I can enthuse guilt-free. It sounds like some form of reflection spell.’

  ‘Just what I thought.’ Toby rolled his eyes.

  ‘Whoever we’re dealing with here clearly has a great deal of skill in sorcery,’ said Shining.

  ‘And still that sentence makes me feel like I’m chewing tinfoil.’

  ‘Shush, don’t make me give you the whole “magic is science” talk again.’

  ‘Heaven forbid.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of anyone pulling off a reflection spell, it’s just one of those things you read about in dusty old books. A way of turning the very worst a person holds inside, all their fears and insecurities, back against them.’

  ‘Been there,’ Toby admitted, ‘and done that.’

  ‘Lucky for you. Someone who didn’t have such a firm grip on their own psychology would no doubt have found it much harder to break free.’

  ‘Fratfield was certainly struggling,’ Toby said. ‘If I hadn’t pulled him out of there, he would have been as dead as the diplomat in our car.’

  ‘Yes, poor Ranesh.’ August sighed. ‘I hadn’t even met him. Whoever’s behind this certainly isn’t playing the long game.’

  ‘April told me she was going to try and convince the Koreans to stay.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll manage. She’s good at that sort of thing. Besides, this would hardly be the first conference besieged by assassination attempts.’

  ‘Surely it would make sense to pack up and move somewhere else, though?’