Very Important Corpses

by Simon R. Green

  ‘You know, I am really not impressed by the quality of guards they have here.’

  ‘Good to know we can still scare someone,’ said Penny.

  Somewhat heartened, we carried on towards the House. The night remained uncomfortably still and quiet. Thick mists surrounded us like a dull-grey ocean, and the lights from the House didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

  ‘Why didn’t the creature follow us into the tunnel?’ Penny said suddenly, in a way that suggested she’d been thinking about that a lot.

  ‘It was too big to fit through the crack in the wall,’ I said.

  ‘Then how could it be using the tunnel to get in and out of the House?’ said Penny. ‘I thought the tunnel explained everything, but if the creature couldn’t use it … we’re back where we started.’

  ‘And something that size would have had real problems trying to sneak around Coronach House,’ I said. ‘Someone would be bound to hear it, even if they didn’t see it.’

  ‘My head is really aching now!’ said Penny. ‘Nothing makes any sense. Ishmael, this case is getting seriously scary. And you know I don’t scare easily. Whatever that thing was, it sounded big … I mean seriously big. I could feel the floor shaking under its weight … Could it be something supernatural?’

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me in the least,’ I said.

  Coronach House suddenly loomed up before us, emerging reassuringly from the mists. I suppressed a sigh of relief, and soon we were threading our way through the rows of parked limousines, heading for the front door. Penny looked at the cars, and came to a sudden halt. I stopped with her.

  ‘Ishmael, would you think me horribly weak if I suggested we just get in a car and leave? So we could put together an army of reinforcements, then come back and kill that thing?’

  ‘That’s just being sensible,’ I said. ‘But how many people here might die in the time it would take us to get back? You go if you want. I’ll give you the car keys and some contact numbers. But I have to stay.’

  ‘You know I wouldn’t leave you,’ said Penny. She shook herself briefly. ‘Of course we can’t leave. It’s just … that thing shook me. And I’m not used to being shaken.’

  ‘Neither am I,’ I said. ‘It’s because it’s unknown. That’s what’s getting to us. The thing in our heads, in our imagination, is far worse than anything real could ever be. Once we’ve had our first good look at it we’ll feel a lot better.’

  ‘Don’t put money on it,’ said Penny.

  We reached the front door, and of course it was still locked. I pounded on the heavy wood with my fist, making enough noise to raise the recently deceased, but no one came to answer. I looked the door over carefully. It really was very heavy and very solid.

  ‘Maybe we could go back and grab one of those guards?’ said Penny. ‘Have them contact someone inside the House.’

  ‘I’m not in the mood to go running through the mists chasing after spooked security men,’ I said. ‘I am, however, very much in the mood to hit something.’

  I punched the door with all my strength. The wood made a low disturbed sound, like a struck bell, but didn’t crack or split. I hit the door with my shoulder, putting all my weight behind it. The wood did crack this time, but the door still wouldn’t budge. I moved back several steps and hit the door at a run. The door shuddered in its frame, but held; and I was bounced back on my arse. Penny looked down at me, put a hand to her mouth, and tried not to laugh.

  I got back up, dusted myself off with some dignity, and looked the door over carefully. When in doubt, cheat. I located the hinges and smashed the wood around them with my fists, hitting it again and again until splinters flew through the air. The door rocked in its frame. Once the hinges had been sufficiently loosened, all I had to do was hit the door again with my shoulder, and the sheer weight of the door ripped the hinges out of the frame. The door fell backwards into the entrance hall, measuring its length on the floor with a marvellous crashing sound.

  ‘Nice one, sweetie,’ said Penny. ‘Very restrained.’

  ‘I thought so,’ I said.

  I strode into the reception area like a conquering hero. Penny followed after me, shaking her head. I didn’t look round to see, but I had no doubt that was what she was doing. The reception area was warm and bright, and completely deserted.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ said Penny. ‘They must have heard the noise.’

  ‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ I said.

  I went back to the door, picked it up, and leaned it back into place. It filled the gap well enough, if a little crookedly.

  ‘That isn’t going to fool anyone,’ said Penny.

  ‘It’s the thought that counts,’ I said. ‘Neatness is next to godliness. Provided you tear enough pages out of the dictionary.’

  We both looked round sharply, as we heard footsteps approaching from a side corridor. Penny and I moved quickly to stand together, shoulder to shoulder.

  ‘No running this time, right?’ said Penny.

  ‘Right,’ I said.

  ‘We stand our ground and fight.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Those are human footsteps, aren’t they?’ said Penny.

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘One man, by the sound of it.’

  ‘Good.’ Penny let her breath out and scowled fiercely. ‘I swear I never used to be this jumpy.’

  ‘Not to worry,’ I said. ‘I can always grab the door and hit him with it.’

  ‘I can live with that,’ said Penny. ‘You flatten him, and I’ll kick him till he dies.’

  Baron came strolling out of the side corridor, and then stopped and looked at us. There was clearly something about our stance he found troubling. He blinked a few times, and then smiled uncertainly.

  ‘Hello? Is something wrong? I heard this noise …’

  ‘That was just me,’ I said. ‘Shutting the door.’

  He looked at the front door, not quite in its proper place, and blinked a few more times.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said. ‘I thought you were going to check out the cellar?’

  ‘We did,’ I said. ‘And now we’re back. We need to talk, Baron.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We do. But just you and me, Ishmael. Because I think we need to talk about our past. About the people we used to be. And that will almost certainly mean discussing some things you haven’t got around to telling your new partner.’

  I turned to Penny. ‘He may be brusque, unpleasant and positively delighting in bad timing; but he’s right. I need to do this. You’d better go and find the Major Domo, see what she’s up to.’

  ‘She still hasn’t got her people out of the dining hall,’ said Baron. ‘They started making demands, and that was never going to go well.’

  ‘There you are,’ I said to Penny. ‘You can help with that.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave you,’ said Penny, glaring suspiciously at Baron.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I can handle him. And I really don’t want the Major Domo left to her own devices. You’re not afraid to go on your own, are you?’

  I knew that was the one thing I could say to make her go. Penny nodded stiffly, turned her back on me, and strode off. I gave Baron a cold, considering look.

  ‘This had better be worth it.’

  ‘It will be,’ said Baron. ‘We have decisions to make.’

  ‘I’ve never needed your help to decide what to do.’

  ‘You’ve never been in a position like this.’

  I looked at him thoughtfully. ‘What are we talking about exactly?’

  ‘You and me,’ said Baron. ‘And what’s really going on in the House.’

  ‘Then lead on,’ I said.

  We walked through empty corridors, looking straight ahead and not talking to each other. There was no sign of anyone else; not even the guards who were supposed to be on duty. Baron took me all the way back to the escorts’ private bar. When we got there, the door was standing wide open and there wasn’t a sou
nd from inside.

  ‘They’re all gone,’ said Baron. ‘We have the place to ourselves. Probably the only part of the House where no one will think to look for us.’

  He had a point. I gestured for him to go in first. The bar was entirely deserted, though heavy scents from some of the escorts still lingered. Baron reached for a bottle left standing on the bar top as I closed the door carefully behind me.

  ‘Most of the escorts are busy quieting the principals’ nerves,’ said Baron. ‘In their various ways … Others have gone to ground, wherever they feel most safe. And I overheard a few talking about hot-wiring a limo and making a run for it. Can’t say I blame them. Coronach House doesn’t feel safe for anyone, right now. Would you care for a brandy? That always was your tipple of choice, whatever identity you were using.’

  I was pretty sure the bottle he was holding was the same one Penny had used to hit him over the head, but I didn’t say anything. Just nodded briefly. Baron grabbed a couple of glasses off the bar top and brought the bottle and glasses over to the nearest table. He sat down, and I sat down facing him. Both of us being very polite, like the practised colleagues and adversaries we were.

  ‘How’s your head?’ I said.

  ‘Better,’ said Baron. ‘You can tell your girl there are no hard feelings.’

  ‘She’s not my girl,’ I said. ‘She’s my partner.’

  ‘That is a change for you,’ said Baron. ‘You never trusted anyone to get that close when I knew you.’

  ‘You never really knew me,’ I said.

  ‘We worked together.’

  ‘Not the same thing.’

  He nodded, conceding the point.

  ‘So,’ I said. ‘What is it that you’re so sure we need to talk about?’

  Baron splashed decent amounts of brandy into the two glasses, and pushed one towards me. I accepted it casually, though long experience suggested he’d had more than enough time to poison the drink. And what were the odds of there being just one bottle left out on the bar top, and my favourite tipple at that? It would suit Baron’s sense of humour, to make a weapon out of something that had been used to hurt him. Of course I was immune to most poisons, but Baron didn’t know that. Or at least had no right to know it. That’s the problem with being an agent: you see so many possibilities in everything that you can argue yourself into a position where you don’t dare do anything. So I mentally crossed my fingers and took a good drink from my glass. Baron nodded approvingly at this apparent sign of trust, and had a good drink himself. Then we both sat back, smiled at each other, and waited to see if anything would happen.

  ‘I did think about saying “To absent friends!”,’ I said, after a while. ‘But that would have raised too many ghosts.’

  Baron raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts?’

  ‘Memories, then.’

  ‘Ah yes … So many memories in our line of work. Sometimes we’re the only ones left who still remember certain things ever happened.’

  ‘Just as well,’ I said. ‘What did you expect me to find down in the cellar?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Baron. ‘Something useful, hopefully. What did you find?’

  I was ready to tell him about the unnatural creature that had come after us in the dark, but at the last moment I changed my mind. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t trust Baron as I didn’t trust some of the ways this conversation could go. There were times when we had achieved great things together, and other times when we were at each other’s throats. Quite literally. People in our line of work don’t usually carry grudges, because you never knew when you might find yourself in need of an ally. But something about this conversation felt off, felt wrong …

  ‘The cellar turned out to be more like a cavern,’ I said carefully. ‘We did find a tunnel leading out into the grounds.’

  Baron grinned, and toasted me with his glass. ‘I knew it had to be there. It was the only way the creature could appear and disappear so easily.’

  I just nodded. This didn’t feel like the time to discuss my doubts on the matter.

  Baron sat back in his chair and looked at me steadily. ‘You know, I thought this job would be an easy number. Look after a few VIPs, take the money and run. But nothing’s gone right since I got here. First Rifkin, then October, and all the time more mysteries piling up than I can shake a blunt instrument at. And you know the principals are going to find some way to stick the blame on us, whatever happens. Why do we do this, Ishmael? Why do we put our lives, and what’s left of our sacred honour, on the line for people we know aren’t worthy of us?’

  It seemed like a serious question, so I did him the courtesy of considering my answer. ‘Why do we do this? To protect the world, from people like us.’

  Baron laughed briefly, bitterly. ‘There are no people like us.’

  I considered him thoughtfully. ‘You haven’t changed at all, from when we first met in ’64. You’re not telling me that’s all down to plastic surgery?’

  He smiled. ‘No, that’s just for public consumption. I’ve had more than a little help from some alien tech I was exposed to back when I was working for the Beachcombers. That was after you’d moved on … But what about you, Ishmael? Every time we bump into each other I look for some change, some small sign of aging, but you’re always exactly the same. It’s like time stands still for you. Either that, or you’ve got a really shocking portrait tucked away in an attic somewhere.’

  ‘Clean living and a vegetable diet are two things I’ve always avoided,’ I said. ‘I can’t help feeling there’s a connection.’

  ‘I thought for a while you might be an Immortal,’ said Baron. ‘Until I met one, and he was positive you were never one of the family.’

  ‘Keep guessing,’ I said. ‘We all have our secrets.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We do.’

  ‘Why did you leave the Organization?’ I asked. ‘What did you find out about them?’

  ‘You have to discover that for yourself,’ he said. ‘Or you’ll never believe it.’

  We sat together, studying each other over our brandies, thinking our thoughts.

  ‘We’ve both seen some strange places,’ Baron said finally. ‘Encountered all kinds of unnatural threats, and done harsh things necessary to keep the world safe. We’ve known all manner of wonders and horrors, and kept any number of secrets to ourselves. Have you ever wondered whether it was all worth it? The things we did and were forced to do?’

  ‘The world is still here,’ I said steadily. ‘And so are we. That puts us ahead.’

  ‘But we were always following someone else’s orders,’ Baron insisted. ‘Someone else’s agenda. Never captains of our own ships or masters of our souls.’

  ‘Everyone has to serve someone,’ I said. ‘We all need to believe in some cause to give our lives purpose and direction. That’s just how it is for most people.’

  ‘But we’re not most people,’ said Baron. ‘The things we do matter. Haven’t you ever felt the urge to go out on your own, be your own man? To work one score big enough to give you serious “Fuck off!” money, so no one could ever pressure you again? Did you never want to see what you could really do, with the leash off and none of the restraints other people impose on you? Are we letting ourselves down … by not being everything we could be?’

  He looked and sounded completely sincere. As though these were real questions about things that really mattered to him. He also looked like he really cared about what my answers would be. I had to wonder why. I gave the matter some thought, and chose my words carefully.

  ‘Like I said, sometimes the world needs protecting from people like us. And all the things we might do.’

  ‘Is ambition such a bad thing?’

  ‘Depends where it leads you.’ I looked at him steadily. ‘What are we doing here, Baron? What is this all about? You were never the introspective type before.’

  He looked into his glass, to avoid looking at me. ‘It’s all getting out of contr
ol. Something tells me we’re only one step away from a bloodbath. This whole house is just a killing ground waiting to happen. And I’ve been wondering … whether it might not be better to just call it quits and get the hell out of here while we still can.’

  ‘You mean, leave everyone here to die? Without our protection?’

  ‘You think anyone in the House is worth risking our lives over?’ said Baron.

  ‘I think … it’s not up to us to decide who is and who isn’t worth saving,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know if you and I were ever really friends,’ Baron said slowly. ‘Colleagues, certainly. We’ve spent a lot of time in each other’s company down the years. We’ve had some good times, done some good work.’

  ‘When we weren’t trying to kill each other,’ I said. ‘You’ve worked for some very dubious people in your time.’

  He shrugged. ‘If we’d really wanted each other dead, we would have done it long ago. I have more in common with you than anyone else I know. Who else has seen the things we’ve seen, done the things we’ve done? Who else knows what we know, and the secrets we’ve kept? So if I tell you I don’t want to be here when everything goes to hell … If I asked you to leave right now and come with me, so we could retire from the insane world we live in, would you do it?’

  ‘Why?’ I said. ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘To save both our souls, perhaps.’

  I looked at him. Did he want to go but didn’t have the nerve to quit on his own? Or did he want me out of here because I was getting too close to something he didn’t want me to know about? Or was I missing something? It didn’t matter. Whatever doubts I might have had about my job or myself, I knew my duty.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t leave, not even if we really were friends. I have a job to do.’

  Baron pushed back his chair and got to his feet, his face completely empty of emotion. ‘All right then. That’s it. Don’t say I never gave you the chance. Now we both have to play this game out to the end, whatever it takes us. And let the blood fall where it may.’