by Jeff Noon
Lear paused. He took a deep breath and then he said, ‘Poor Gavin has left this house only a few times in the last seven years.’
Hobbes found himself staring at the artist. He was, in many ways, looking at a prisoner.
‘I’d like to speak with him.’
‘Very well. But remember, he’s not used to conversing with outsiders.’
Hobbes approached the desk. Gavin Roberts stopped working as the inspector neared. He looked ill at ease suddenly, his shoulders bunched up and his hands clenched.
‘Gavin?’
The name brought a negative response. He started to rock in his seat. Hobbes looked over to Toby Lear for help, receiving an encouraging nod. He tried again:
‘Or shall I call you Bo? Or Bo Dazzle?’
Now the artist looked up and smiled. ‘Gavin is fine, but thank you for asking.’
Hobbes saw in this man’s eyes, as though from a sudden burst of knowledge, the entire story. Something terrible had happened to him. Or else he’d taken part in some terrible event that now governed his whole being. Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps murderous intent, perhaps madness – there was no way of knowing for sure – but Gavin Roberts had nowhere left to go other than Edenville. It was his only salvation. And Hobbes knew also that this reclusive man held the truth – the truth behind the ritual killings of Lucas Bell and Brendan Clarke, and the more opportune slaying of Simone Paige.
‘Gavin. I’m a police officer. I wish to talk with you. Is that all right?’
There was no response.
‘I’d like to ask about the death of Lucas Bell. He didn’t kill himself, is that correct?’
A single nod.
‘Do you know who killed him?’
Gavin seemed to look deep within himself. And then he spoke quietly but firmly: ‘It’s a secret.’
Hobbes held the other man’s gaze. ‘You’ve made a promise, is that it? Not to tell?’
‘More than a promise. Much more.’
‘You’ve taken an oath?’
‘Yes, on my life.’
Gavin started to tremble, and Hobbes feared that he might sink back inside himself at any moment. ‘What about Brendan Clarke, and Simone Paige? Do you think they were killed by the same person?’
‘Brendan, yes. Simone … did she wear the mask?’
‘No, no, her face was clean.’
‘She’s different, then. But she’s the cause of it all.’
‘In what way?’
‘She didn’t love him enough.’
‘She didn’t love Lucas Bell, you mean?’
Gavin was suddenly lucid, his sight fully engaged on the inspector. In a clear voice he said, ‘I always suspected that Simone would be taken one day.’
‘Taken?’ Hobbes thought of the phrase he’d learned in Hastings: taken by the tide.
‘And now, after Mr Clarke was punished, I knew she’d be targeted.’
Hobbes concentrated. ‘Gavin, can you tell me the name of the woman who killed Simone Paige?’
‘I cannot.’ It was a simple admittance. And with that the man’s eyes darted back to the watercolour painting on the drawing board. Hobbes sensed that Roberts kept reaching the limits of what he was allowed to say, according to the rules of the group; rules that were deeply ingrained in his psyche.
‘OK. Thank you for answering. What about Brendan Clarke?’
‘Brendan, he wore the mask?’
‘He did. On stage.’
A sudden frenzy took hold of the artist and he cried out, ‘Brendan had to die, then. Yes, he had to die!’ Toby Lear moved in quickly and took hold of his friend’s shoulders. It did little good; Gavin shook himself and howled from some inner pain. ‘He did wrong. Brendan did wrong! Lucas did wrong. Luna Bloom did wrong. They all had to die. They did wrong!’
Lear called out to Hobbes, ‘Please, leave him alone.’
But the inspector couldn’t give up now. ‘What did they do that was so wrong? Gavin, speak to me!’
But the spell was broken. ‘My name isn’t Gavin! It’s Bo. I am Bo Dazzle!’
He pulled away from Lear’s grip and lashed out madly, knocking the brushes and pots of paint off the drawing board. They scattered everywhere with a clatter as he smashed at the easel with his bunched fists, over and over, screaming out the whole time:
‘They did wrong! They did wrong!’
And then as suddenly as he had panicked, Gavin Roberts calmed again, and he looked at Hobbes properly. The man locked away inside emerged. His eyes were bright and filled with life, and he spoke in a quiet but determined voice.
‘They stole the mask. They should never have taken the mask. That’s why they had to die. She killed them.’
And Hobbes knew that Roberts was telling the truth, the truth as he knew it.
The vital question remained.
‘Who do you mean … she? Who killed them? Who killed Lucas and Brendan?’
Gavin’s lips moved to speak but then the light darkened and he spat out in anger, ‘No, it’s a secret. I’m not supposed to tell.’ His hands tightened and his nails dug into the cartridge paper with its depiction of a village church. The paper ripped, torn in two. He howled in abject, wordless despair.
Lear moved in from behind and pulled Hobbes away.
Gavin Roberts grew quiet at last, until only a whisper remained in his voice. ‘They did wrong. The mask killed them.’
The two men moved out into the corridor. ‘I told you,’ Lear said. ‘I did tell you.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry,’ Hobbes said. ‘Is there any way to get some sense out of him?’
‘Gavin is talking sense.’
‘But only as he knows it, surely? And I need more than that. I need to know who killed Lucas Bell and the others.’
Lear stared through the open doorway. He said in a weary voice, ‘I fear I may lose him completely one day. He’ll return to Edenville and stay there forever.’
‘Have you tried to get help for him?’
‘Help? Do you really think someone, some pitiful psychiatrist, can visit the village and pull him back out?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hobbes tried to think. ‘Gavin mentioned the name Luna Bloom, just now. He said that Luna Bloom had done wrong. Does that mean that Luna Bloom is the murderer?’
Lear shook his head. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘Lucas told me years ago. We got stoned together one day, and he let it slip.’ He smiled at the knowledge, as though finally giving up a secret after years of silence. ‘When he was younger, he was known as Luna Bloom.’
Hobbes was puzzled. ‘But King Lost, isn’t that Lucas’s nickname?’
‘You really don’t understand, do you?’
‘Tell me.’
Lear closed the door on the world in the room and turned the key in the lock. Only then did he speak: ‘Lucas Bell was never King Lost. Not to begin with. That was someone else. Someone else invented that character. Another member of Edenville.’
‘So Lucas …’
‘That’s right.’ Lear nodded. ‘Lucas stole the king’s mask.’
Names on a List
Back at the station, Hobbes rang Hastings and talked to Jan Palmer. She told him that her initial enquiries had revealed nothing of the true identities of the Minerva teens.
‘But we’re very busy with the Simone Paige murder. So time is short.’
‘Tell your chief the cases are definitely linked.’
‘Will do. The autopsy’s been done, by the way. Five stab wounds, a bad one to the stomach, and one to the heart. Left ventricle. That probably finished her off.’
‘I see.’ Hobbes closed his eyes. Three murders, three very different locations, and each murder with its own particular mood and atmosphere, so unlike the others. Yet they all circled around Lucas Bell’s music, and the King Lost mask.
Was he missing something important?
Palmer carried on. ‘I did find time to look through files from the early sixtie
s, regarding people dying, or being killed. There are the usual number of drownings, accidental deaths, and so on.’
‘What about murders?’
‘Very few out-and-out cases. It’s mainly drunken anger or crimes of passion. Husbands killing wives, and vice versa.’
‘Nothing about a group of kids killing someone?’
‘No, nothing at all like that. But I’ll keep looking.’
After he’d finished the conversation, Hobbes had the urge to ring Neville Briggs, to see if he’d managed to develop the negatives found in DI Jenkes’s garage; but he resisted. There was work to do here. PC Barlow came into the meeting room and the three officers pooled all the data they had so far.
Hobbes began by writing the word EDENVILLE on the incident board.
‘In the early sixties, in Hastings, five teenagers met in a literature and arts society called the Minerva Club. This club was run by a local librarian, Eve Dylan. The kids came under Miss Dylan’s influence and together they created a fantasy world for themselves.’
‘Do we know why they did this?’ Latimer asked. ‘Barlow? Any clues in the box of delights?’
‘I’ve been through most of the contents. And this …’ Barlow held up a sheet of paper. ‘This is the most important document regarding the village’s founding. It’s called “Edenville: A Sanctuary for the True Heroes”, and it’s basically a statement of belief.’
Hobbes watched the young officer at work, and wondered at just how much confidence he’d gained in the last few days. He was no longer nervous in front of the group, and he spoke clearly.
Barlow read the statement aloud:
‘Edenville will be a place of safety. A place to hide away in. A private place. A hidden place. It will not be marked on any maps. Edenville is ours, and ours alone. And whenever the world outside becomes too harsh or too dangerous, here we can hide, here we are safe. Edenville will protect us.’
Hobbes took over. ‘OK, so let’s assume that the five teenagers are outsiders, each in their own way. They feel let down by the normal world. The world might even be a source of pain for them.’
Latimer agreed. ‘I think they’ve all suffered, physically, or mentally. Maybe they’re gay, and don’t know what to do about it. Or they’re friendless. Or they’ve been bullied. Or maybe abused by a relative.’
‘They’re scared,’ Barlow said.
‘Yes, and because of this they feel alone, without hope. And then along comes Eve Dylan, the founder of the Minerva Club.’ Saying this, Hobbes wrote the word LADY MINERVA on the board. ‘She’s the leader, or the instigator of everything that follows. And suddenly all these poor kids have a club of their own, a place where they are no longer made fun of. In fact, they’re now the kings and queens of the castle. Which brings us to …’
He wrote the name KING LOST under Lady Minerva.
‘King Lost. Now, we’ve naturally assumed that Lucas Bell was King Lost, right from the beginning, because of his career, and the character he created, or appeared to create on stage and in his songs. But we now know that some other member of Edenville was the original King Lost.’
Barlow added, ‘And Lucas Bell’s secret name was in fact Luna Bloom.’
‘Same initials,’ said Latimer. ‘L.B.’
Hobbes wrote LUNA BLOOM below KING LOST, and said, ‘In later life, Bell takes up the King Lost moniker for his own. Tobias Lear used the phrase “Lucas stole the king’s mask”. And Gavin Roberts said the same thing, when he was at his most lucid. Which might possibly give us a motive for these crimes.’
Latimer approached the board. ‘Lucas Bell was punished because he stole King Lost?’
Barlow joined them. ‘And Brendan Clarke did the same thing, on stage. He stole the mask, by wearing it.’
Latimer frowned. ‘And he was killed for it, as well.’
‘It’s starting to make sense,’ said Hobbes.
‘Well, as much sense as it can make.’
‘It makes sense in Edenville, Meg, I think that’s the key. They follow different rules there. In fact, Gavin Roberts claimed that they were both killed for doing wrong, for breaking the rules.’
‘So what’s so special about this mask, that people have to die if they wear it?’
Nobody answered.
Hobbes continued: ‘Now, there are three other founders. Miss Caliban, Bo Dazzle and Mood Indigo.’
He wrote each name on the board, and added the other information they had gathered.
LADY MINERVA – Eve Dylan (Deceased?)
KING LOST –?
LUNA BLOOM – Lucas Bell (Deceased)
BO DAZZLE – Gavin Roberts
MISS CALIBAN –?
MOOD INDIGO –?
The three officers stared at the list. Barlow whistled softly. He said, ‘This is crazy. We’re investigating two worlds: the real one, and a fantasy realm.’
Hobbes agreed. ‘As we progress, the closer we move towards Edenville.’
For a few moments they each contemplated the task ahead. It seemed impossible. Then Hobbes turned to Barlow. ‘Did you have any luck with the missing names?’
‘No. There’s nothing in the box that gives any clue to the founders’ real identities. But there was one thing I noticed.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘In all the material in the box, there’s only one mask depicted, the one belonging to King Lost. That’s the only actual drawing of a mask, I mean.’
‘And what do you think that indicates?’
‘Of all the founders, the person behind the King Lost mask had the most to hide. The fantasy land isn’t enough on its own, he needs to hide his real face as well. Which implies that he was suffering the most.’
Latimer asked, ‘So where does this lead us?’
‘Back to the story,’ Hobbes said. ‘That’s where the truth lies.’ He took command of the room. ‘The group would meet in the attic of Lucas Bell’s home. That was their hideaway, and the centre of operations for the creation of the imaginary village. I don’t think Miss Dylan took much part in these undertakings. For some reason, in my mind I can’t see her walking past Mum and Dad Bell, and climbing up into a dusty attic with a bunch of teenagers. No, I think she planted the seed, and the kids took it over and made it their own. Edenville was born.’
He paused. Latimer and Barlow were looking at him attentively. And he regretted that Fairfax was missing the meeting; they should all be here for this. But he dismissed the thought and carried on. ‘This goes on for a few years, as the teens get older. Lucas comes of age and has a love affair with Miss Dylan. Or was seduced by her. We’ll probably never know the exact truth of that.’
He turned to look at the list of names. ‘But then something happens. Something bad.’
‘But we don’t know what it is,’ Latimer said.
‘When I talked to Nikki Hauser, she said that Lucas had admitted to a crime, something so terrible that it would damage his image, and make the fans turn against him. In fact, she claimed that the Minerva group had killed someone.’
‘And the big question is … who’s the victim?’
Hobbes turned to Barlow. ‘Any clues? What the hell did the kids get up to down there on the coast?’
‘Well, there’s nothing in the Edenville box about any crime they committed. Some of the pieces are dated, with the last one marked February 1966. But there’s nothing relating to any disaster, or tragedy, or murder, or anything like that.’
‘Maybe Fairfax will bring Nikki Hauser in,’ Latimer said. ‘We’ll get it out of her.’
Hobbes said, ‘OK. Because of this mysterious event, let’s say the group split up, and Edenville is stored away. The kids grow up. But the village isn’t demolished. Lucas Bell gets into music. He leaves Hastings for London and starts his career. And in a very real sense he’s bringing Edenville with him, in here …’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘It fuels his songs, his ambition, his imagination. And Lucas isn’t alone. He’s brought another member of Edenville to Lond
on with him: Gavin Roberts.’
‘And it may well be that other members are there as well.’
‘Maybe, yes.’ Hobbes’s face creased in concentration. ‘But then Lucas Bell reaches a crisis point; he can no longer perform on stage, or write songs. He becomes addicted to drugs. He tries to kill himself by taking an overdose, but fails. And then he falls in love with Simone Paige.’
Latimer tapped her pen against the desk. ‘And she tells him to wear a mask.’
‘She does. And Bell does the most extraordinary thing: right there in front of her he creates this character, King Lost; he draws the face on a napkin. Now Simone thinks he’s making it up as he goes along, in the moment, but he isn’t, not at all.’
Barlow took it up next. ‘He’s reaching back into the past, into his old memories.’
‘And he copies the mask of King Lost. He throws aside his own Edenville persona, Luna Bloom, and he takes on that of another member of the group.’
Latimer laughed. ‘It’s incredible. That one simple act makes him world-famous.’
‘And let’s assume that, at this point, our murderer becomes interested. Gavin Roberts said that both Lucas and Brendan Clarke had to die, because they wore the mask.’
Latimer said, ‘So you think whoever created the mask in the first place is taking revenge on them for stealing it?’
‘I don’t know.’
Barlow shook his head. ‘It seems far-fetched, sir. As a motive, I mean.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Hobbes pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. ‘Let’s keep on. So. Lucas Bell is murdered. The killer makes it look like suicide. And then?’
‘And then, nothing,’ Latimer said. ‘For seven years.’
‘That we know of.’
‘There’s that. She might’ve killed or injured other people who wore the mask, murders we don’t know about. Because nobody’s made the connection.’
Barlow shook his head. ‘But all those fans in Witch Haven field, they were wearing the mask as well. She can’t kill all of them.’
‘No, she picks out Brendan Clarke. Because …’
‘Because he wore it on stage, in such a public manner.’
‘Yes, good!’ Hobbes looked again at the list of names. ‘It all comes back to Edenville. And the real trouble is, the motive for these crimes exists only in a made-up world inside the heads of six people, two of whom are dead.’