“Something weird’s going on.”
“I agree, but we have nothing in the way of evidence. I need something solid to take back to Kinsella.”
What could I tell her: I’d gotten a bad feeling from a piece of carpet!
“What about these,” I suggested pulling out the baggie. “The hairs on the packing case?”
“You think they’re significant? Look, I know you’re new to this Bronte but I’d rather you spoke your mind.”
I pushed myself away from the wall. “Do you really want to know what I think?”
“Try me.”
I considered that for a moment. I wanted to tell her about what I’d seen, about the link between the packing case and the rug upstairs but instead, I said, “First off: I don’t think that’s Brodsky up there.”
“How can you say that? We didn’t even get a good look at the body.”
“I didn’t need to. I got a look at his trainers. They’re not an old man’s shoe – they’re the kind those Parkour blokes use. Plus, the baggy jeans and the watch! I reckon that he was in his mid-twenties at most. And what happened with his head?”
“So, whose body is it?”
“I don’t know but somebody’s trying to confuse us.”
I could see Helena running through this in her head, “I suppose that would explain the absence of a head. No head, no dental records. And that would explain the thing with his car.”
“Which was?”
“The car’s clearly his baby. Show-room condition. He wouldn’t have left it there if he could help it. Except the back gate to the gallery was locked and he couldn’t get it out in time.”
“You think they came looking for him at the gallery?”
“I’m thinking he tricked them into searching the warehouse and then he locked them in. Did you see the state of that door?”
“But how did he escape? Climb the fence?”
“Not even with those trainers. I’m thinking he ran back through the gallery and out into the street. Flagged down a cab and came here. This is where he stashed the Iron.”
“So they broke out of the warehouse and followed him home?”
Helena pulled a sour face. “I know. This only works if that is Brodsky’s body up there. Otherwise. ”
I thought that over. “What if he had another car waiting for him here?”
“We’ll need to check with the DVLA.”
“Or ask the nosy neighbour.”
She looked at me as though for the first time. “Tell you what, why don’t you leave me to talk with the neighbour. Go get a cab – you can claim it on expenses - and then you can pick up your keys. I’ll ring you later, let you know if anything’s changed.”
I had a stab of guilt then. “It’s okay. I can stay.”
“And end up sleeping rough for the night?” she pulled her forensic suit down before stepping out of it. “No. You sort yourself out and don’t worry. Though I’m expecting you to be up bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Was she being serious? “We’re going to carry on working together?”
She nodded. “I think that would be a good idea. Yes.”
I was already out of my overalls, “Okay. Thanks. That’d be really good.”
“Least I can do.”
Chapter 9
It took me an hour and a half to get my keys from the estate agents. I really shouldn’t have been surprised. So much about the process of renting the flat had dragged on for far longer than it had any right to.
Millie had been desperate for us to agree on a place for some time. Her commute was taking her up to three hours a day so even when she was at home she was thinking that she’d have to go to bed early in order to give herself a head start on the following day. Prior to finding the one in Finsbury Park we were either looking at lovely flats in terrible areas or terrible flats in lovely areas. There just didn’t appear to be anything in-between.
We’d nearly passed on the flat the first time because somebody had told us that the parking in the area could be a nightmare because it was so close to the Arsenal ground. It had taken the best part of an afternoon for us to realise that that wouldn’t be a problem for either of us as neither of us could drive. My attention was piqued when I realised the flat was walking distance from Finsbury Park tube station.
Collecting the keys was a bit of an anti-climax. They weren’t even on a proper key-ring. Just a loop of string with the address on a piece of card.
It all felt like a bit of a let-down.
I wished that Millie had been there with me but she was off at some fancy cocktail bar celebrating the birthday of one of her friends from Lazarus College. It had been booked months ago so she wasn’t likely to surface until the following morning. I just hoped that she got back before her family arrived. If Helena was serious about tomorrow I wouldn’t be able to sit around and baby-sit them. That would fall to my dad.
I’d texted him to let him know what was going on but had gotten no response. Just because he’s got a mobile doesn’t mean he knows how to use it.
Once I’d left the Estate Agents I’d planned to get a coffee but that was before I realised how little cash I had. I walked up and down the high street, trying to work out where the nearest bank might be. I turned to start up the road to my left, hoping that there’d be a bank somewhere along the row of shops and as I did so I literally bumped into Marcus Rolfe.
“Oh hello!”
“Hello yourself. Thought we might find you here. ”
“We?” I looked around expecting to be confronted by Helena but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Terence. We’re going to be working together,” Marcus turned towards the road hoping to locate whoever it was. I spotted a tall man with Asiatic features standing on the other side, waiting for a gap in the traffic. He waved in our direction before bolting across the road, narrowly avoiding being hit by at least two cars.
“Millie gave us the name of your estate agent and the estate agent lady was very helpful.”
“I bet she was,” I could picture the one he meant. Platinum blonde, pencil skirt, clunky heels.
He introduced us and we shook hands. It was difficult to judge Terence’s age. He had the long, awkward limbs of a teenager yet he his eyes were those of someone much older.
“Very pleased to meet you,” he said tentatively.
“Pleased to meet you Terence,” a thousand questions whistled through my head but I couldn’t bring myself to voice any of them. I just wanted to find my dad and get through my own front door. “Marcus tells me that you’re going to be working together.”
“Since ten past two this afternoon,” Marcus didn’t sound too happy about it. I wondered if Terence’s English was good enough to register the subtle change of tone. “He’s from China.”
“Must be a bit of a culture shock,” I indicated the busy main road and the shops opposite. He looked across at Marcus for clarification so I said, “Must be different in China.”
He shook his head. “Six hundred people a day are killed on the roads in China. So this is not so different.”
“Well,” I said. “I did not know that! Six hundred. Your English is very good by the way.”
“Thank you. I was educated in Hong Kong, so that helps.”
He watched me intently for several moments whilst lorries thundered past. Eventually, I could stand it no longer. “I take it that you’re a practitioner then. Like the rest of us?”
I flicked my fingers out and jiggled them a bit: the international mime for spell casting. They both stared at me, incredulous.
Terence said, “I’ve only been practising magic for a couple of year. We don’t have such a good developmental system as you do over here.”
“He’s part of an exchange scheme,” Marcus pointed out. “Set up by your good friend Dr Stahl. That was one of the reasons she was there this morning.”
Terence looked positively thrilled at the mere mention of Stahl’s name.
“Speaking of
this morning: how are you holding up?” I asked.
He rolled up his sleeve and showed me a bandage wrapped around his forearm. “The worst part was I had to have a tetanus jab. What about you?”
“Didn’t need one in the end,” I lied. How was I going to fit in a tetanus injection along with everything else?
“So you’re hoping to pick up some insights into how we do things over here?” I asked, swinging my key on its string.
“That’s right,” Terence said. “So far I’ve been very impressed with everything I’ve seen at the Bear Garden.”
“Do you have a set-up like ours in your country?” I was genuinely interested. Terence was unlike any magician I’d ever met before. He came across as being genuinely excited about the whole subject. The two of them had fallen into step beside me. I really needed to find a bank.
“Our government has a low regard for magicians. They tolerate us only because magic is so highly regarded in rural areas. But they really don’t think magic has anything to offer in the modern world.”
In the background Marcus mimed stifling a huge yawn and I smiled in spite of myself. Terence must have suspected something as he turned to look back at him.
Marcus said, “I’m assuming you didn’t get Helena’s message?”
I frowned at him. “No.”
“We’re here to act as your escorts.”
I held up my new key. “I’m supposed to be moving into my new flat. My dad’s waiting for me. He’s got all my stuff!”
“Change of plan I’m afraid. Helena’s arranged a meeting at Clapham Common,” he held out his arms to take in both me and Terence. “This could be our first assignment as an international super team. It’ll be exciting.”
“No, I’m moving house. I’ve already had this conversation with Helena.”
“Things must have changed. She was very insistent.”
“I don’t care. Sorry to disappoint you Terence but I’m not doing this now. So, if you’ll excuse me,” I pushed past the tall Chinese, eager to spot a gap in the traffic.
“Look,” Marcus was quickly at my shoulder. “It’s rush-hour now. We promised we’d get you there by six. You can’t let Helena down, not on your first day.”
God, he was annoying. “You don’t seem to be listening to me. I am not going anywhere with you.”
*
Marcus drove us to the Common in one of the department’s black Range Rovers. Normally I’m against traveling in such gas guzzling monstrosities but it did make me feel more relaxed being in such an elevated position, looking down on all the other motorists. He insisted that I sit up front with him, which meant that I got a long time to study his face in profile. He has a good profile. From my angle I could appreciate the sandy stubble of his jaw line and I found myself wondering what it would be like to rub my cheek against it.
This made me feel weird so I decided to stop protesting and just gave in to the experience, enjoying the firmness of my seat-belt; the smoothness of the ride.
The traffic, of course, was awful on a Friday. There was no way that we could drop my keys off and meet Helena in time. I rang Millie and asked if it was possible if my dad collected her keys from the estate agents’ which she thought was a great idea. I tried to ring him several times but he failed to pick up. In the end I just had to leave a message on his phone. He wasn’t stupid. He’d work it out eventually.
Terence kept trying to talk to me while we were driving which was kind of distracting because I really had to make an effort to listen to whatever it was he was trying to say. I still had a stiff neck from the stress of the morning so it was difficult having to keep turning round. He was very interested in how the Ptolemy worked and about the courier system we operate, shuttling books all over the country. I’m quite knowledgeable about that, so it was fairly easy keeping him entertained. When he tried to ask about my relationship with Helena, that proved a little bit more difficult, so I moved the topic back to Melissa Stahl. A much safer topic of conversation.
Terence had met her twice before. Once in Hong Kong and again in China. He was really keen on her.
“She seemed very nice,” I said, sounding lame.
A dark object flashed by over-head and, through the sun-roof I thought, for the briefest moment, that we were under-attack from the birds again. I crouched down in my seat, trying to get a look at what it was, but it was gone too quickly. Traffic helicopter most likely, though that didn’t stop my heart hammering in my chest.
“Okay,” Marcus was saying. “So, what was your general impression? Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“About supporting the department, of course. Do you think they’re planning to close us down?”
“I didn’t hear her speech. Besides, she’s a politician; she’s only going to tell you what she wants us to hear.”
Marcus drove on for a little. He checked in his rear-view mirror that Terence wasn’t listening before continuing.
“I hear that there’s a lot of pressure on her to make the whole thing public. Let everyone know what we’re really up to. Public accountability and all that.”
I was a bit taken aback by that. That would be such a massive undertaking. More of a P.R. campaign than anything else. I wasn’t sure that I liked the idea.
As we came to a junction it became obvious that the road ahead of us was blocked solid with traffic. Even worse, a black pall of smoke was rising into the early evening sky. Seeing that we were at a standstill, Marcus leaned over towards me.
“Go on. Do me a favour and see what’s holding us up.” When I didn’t agree immediately he gave me a sneer. “I’m assuming, of course, that you can do it?”
His jibe had the desired effect. Settling back into my seat, I closed my eyes. All the better to help me concentrate. I pictured the wind-screen as a handy frame of reference and - pushed.
My view of proceedings changed almost immediately, pushing forward twenty feet so that I was effectively viewing the interior of the car, next but one ahead of us. A young guy, on his own, checking his texts. A can of warm coke in his cup-holder.
I took a breath and pushed again. Harder this time. I was passing through, ten, maybe fifteen cars, with ease but still nothing. A mother losing patience with her two sons in the back.
Pushed again. And again.
It felt good. I felt fresh. I hadn’t practised in a while but it didn’t seem to have made much difference. Some things just come naturally whilst others never seem to go right.
A blur of bodies, a slew of different aromas and suddenly I was out the other side.
“Oh my God!”
“What is it?” Marcus’ voice sounded a long way off.
“An accident. A bad one.”
“Fatalities? Anything we can do?”
“I think we’re too late. No one’s going anywhere quickly.”
Then I felt Marcus working the wheel to take the Range Rover in a tight U-turn, the action breaking my connection.
I didn’t tell them the rest and they didn’t ask.
It hadn’t been an accident. Only one car was involved. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside the car, blowing out the windows and buckling the roof. A door had been torn off and lay against a tree. The three people who’d been traveling inside hadn’t all died straight away. The resulting fire had claimed their lives though, the heat of the flames strong enough to deter even the most persistent would-be rescuer.
No one would be walking away from that. The tarmac around the car was pocked and cracked. I could even make out a blackened hand poking out of a side window.
But that wasn’t the worst thing about it.
The worst thing was the vehicle itself. A black Range Rover almost identical to our own.
*
Forty five minutes later and we were still in the car. It was a hot afternoon yet the air-conditioning unit was so efficient that I’d started to get cold. I leaned across and turned it off. Marcus thought about saying s
omething but stopped himself, which was just as well.
Every time we got to a clear stretch of road he accelerated even though he had to break again in a couple of hundred yards. It was annoying, but I let it pass.
“You’re very keen to get me there,” I said.
“Helena said she’d make it worth my while.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I wasn’t sure whether he was boyfriend material or not, but I wasn’t having Helena coming in and helping herself to all the eligible males.
“I bet she did.”
“Come on,” he goaded. “You’re not jealous are you?”
I gave into him. Anything to take my mind off that blazing car. “What could I possibly be jealous of?”
“I don’t know. Her job? Maybe you’re the ambitious type. Fancy going head to head with the bad guys?”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” I said and was surprised by how fiercely it came out.
“Why not? Helena’s a witch isn’t she? Like you. I’m sure she’d be only too keen to give one of her sisters a leg up.”
“Helena’s in a different league.”
“Really? I thought most of your job was about fine-tuning spells. Surely, working in the library you get access to all the best ones.”
I shook my head, “That’s only a part of it. The rest is all down to experience.”
“So, all you’re lacking is experience?”
“You could put it like that.”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, of course. I couldn’t tell him that the reason I didn’t believe in myself was because I wasn’t even a real witch. You see, I’d never passed the Burden Conundrum. The coming-of-age ceremony every young witch has to undergo.
No one could ever find out.
The Burden Conundrum.
Most people think that it’s a test of a witch’s power but they couldn’t be more wrong. It’s designed to test a witch’s discipline and self-control. The young witch approaches the front of their sponsor’s home. Then they watch through the window as their sponsor places three candles on a table which are then lit. An egg timer is up-ended and the adept has until the sands run down to extinguish one of the candles. But only one.
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