The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2)

by Neil Carstairs

  “I was thinking we improvise and make our own bunk bed. I’ll lie on the bottom.”

  Kramer laughed. “How long did it take you to think that one up?”

  “About half an hour.”

  With a soft yawn, Kramer slipped onto him, resting her head on his chest. Ben’s hands slid down her back. She sighed. “What are you doing?”

  “Just making sure you don’t fall off the top bunk. I wouldn’t want you to have any bruises when your new best friend the lieutenant-colonel meets up with us tomorrow.”

  “You mean the good looking, smartly dressed and polite lieutenant-colonel?”

  “Is there another?”

  “I can’t be that lucky.” He felt her smile against his chest.

  They lay in silence. Ben ran his hand up and down her spine.

  “Kramer?”

  “What?”

  “Do you think this Anomaly thing is going to be as shitty as our last assignment?”

  “No. This is one for the egghead scientists. We’ll be back home by the weekend. Now go to sleep.”

  Ben smiled into the darkness. “Yes, ma’am.”

  ***

  Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t want to be in this world for too long.

  The heat of the sun beat down on Ben. He’d never much liked hot places, and this was one destination that he’d scrub off his bucket list in an instant. Time to move on. He walked forward. The air shimmered and he stepped out of the Anomaly. The two soldiers were waiting, and neither of them smiled.

  “Hi, guys,” Ben said. “Nice day for a walk.”

  “Lieutenant-Colonel Stanton wants a word.”

  “Thought he might. Do I go back or...?”

  “He’s in the cottage over there.”

  Ben walked in the direction they pointed. Before he reached the cottage, Kramer came out to meet him. “Don’t go in,” she said.

  “Those two soldiers said...”

  “Right now, he can’t decide whether to have you arrested and thrown in jail or sent to a hospital with orders to take enough tissue samples that you lose half your body weight.”

  “And what did you suggest, oh wise one?”

  “That you return to Sheddlestone Hall, and Congrave sorts you out.”

  Ben nodded. “That sounds like the best option. When do we leave?”

  “You didn’t hear me right. You leave.” She pointed at him and then to herself. “I stay.”

  “You do? Why?” Ben frowned.

  “Because Stanton wants my input on security measures if this turns out to be a paranormal event. Apparently, I’m the expert.”

  “What about me?” Ben’s shock came through in his voice. She was staying?

  “You’re the loose cannon.” Kramer sighed. “Why did you do it?”

  Ben shrugged. “I couldn’t stand watching a bunch of scientists fretting over every little fluctuation in their instruments for the next I don’t know how long.” He didn’t mention the sight of Stanton cosying up to her made him jealous.

  Up to now Kramer had managed to keep her face and voice stern. Now she smiled and shook her head. “If you manage to avoid being expelled from the country I’ll catch up with you in a few days.”

  “Sounds like you’re gonna miss me,” Ben said as O’Hara came out of the cottage. The scientist gave him a hard stare and made a huffing sound as he walked passed. Ben ignored him.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Kramer replied. She pulled a face at O’Hara’s back as he walked away and that made Ben laugh

  “I think you’re secretly happy. You get to have that bed all to yourself.”

  “True.” Kramer nodded. She stared off into the distance as if remembering something. “And don’t forget, I have a standing offer from the lieutenant-colonel to tuck me in at night.”

  “Don’t go there.” Ben held up a warning finger.

  “Jealous?” Kramer stepped close to him. Her scent filled the air and Ben realised just how much he’d come to like her in the last few weeks. He couldn’t breathe.

  “No,” he said, although the real answer would be ‘yes’.

  “Liar.” Her blue eyes sparkled, she could read him inside out. Kramer kissed him and said, “Now go. Stanton’s arranged a Lynx helicopter to fly you back.”

  “What’s a Lynx look like?” Sometimes Ben felt lost with all the military jargon that got flung around when he was with Kramer.

  “It’s one of the smaller ones.”

  “Stay out of trouble,” Ben said.

  “What kind of trouble can I get into down here?” Kramer asked with an air of innocence.

  “The lieutenant-colonel kind,” Ben said, with a little more emotion than he wanted.

  ***

  Ninety minutes later, after a hair-raising low-level helicopter flight, Ben dropped his bags in the reception of Sheddlestone Hall.

  “Well if it isn’t my second favourite American,” Sheddlestone’s duty receptionist said with a smile.

  “And hello to you too, Daisy.” Ben leant on the hotel-style reception desk that Daisy stood behind and gave her his best smile.

  “Mr Congrave wants to see you,” Daisy said. She picked up a notepad and read out. “As soon as that young man arrives, send him up to see me.”

  “Young man?” Ben asked, suspicious of the smile on Daisy’s face.

  “I edited that bit.” She turned the pad so that Ben could read the actual quote.

  Ouch. “I’ll drop my bag off in my room before I see him,” Ben said as he pushed himself off the desk.

  “Don’t bother,” Daisy said. “You’re going straight out again.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t say.”

  If Kramer hadn’t been on the scene, Ben might well have tried asking Daisy more than a few questions about his future. At five-two, with a Chinese mother and an English father, Daisy had the looks and figure to catch a man’s eye. But like everyone else in the building, she came from the County of Spookshire with the kind of training that most women her age could only dream about. Ben remembered seeing her sparring with a couple of guys from the security team. What she did to them persuaded Ben to stick to running on the treadmill.

  He walked slowly up the sweeping staircase. At the top, he hesitated. Did he really want to see Congrave? Wouldn’t it be better to walk down the Sheddlestone’s long driveway and hitch a lift to somewhere with a rail connection to London? He hung around on the balcony landing and looked down at Daisy as she sat and studied the security monitors that were hidden behind her desk. She glanced up.

  “Don’t put it off,” she said.

  “Who said I was putting it off?” Ben leant on the rail.

  “Me.” Daisy laughed. “Now go.”

  With a sigh, Ben made the way to Congrave’s office. He stopped outside, crossed his fingers that there would be no reply and knocked twice.

  “Yes?”

  He doesn’t sound happy. Oh, well, into the dragon’s lair.

  Congrave gave the impression of being one of those Englishmen who was born wearing a suit. Ben closed the door and waited for some kind of instruction, like ‘don’t bother sitting down, you’re fired.’ Congrave studied him for a moment, wrote something on a pad and then waved Ben to a chair.

  Ben sat. He put his hands in his lap. Then he folded his arms. Then he put his hands in his pockets. By the time Congrave spoke the hands were resting on his thighs.

  “Nervous?” Congrave asked.

  “Kind of.”

  “You should be.” Congrave sat back in his chair. He lifted a single sheet of paper from his desk. “Your actions, according to this report, put the entire investigation of the Anomaly in jeopardy. You are described as a loose cannon, someone with no regard to the chain of command or the health and safety of you team members. Furthermore, your attitude speaks of someone who has never operated under proper control and therefore you should be dismissed from service to Her Majesty’s Government and returned, as soon as possible, to your parent organi
sation where it is hoped disciplinary action will commence against you.”

  “Let me guess,” Ben said. “Lieutenant-Colonel Stanton?”

  “Yes. A man held in high regard.”

  “I did kind of act without thinking things through,” Ben admitted.

  Congrave smiled. He put the paper down and picked up another one and read. “He behaved like an idiot, but it got the investigation moving. The way the situation was being handled spoke of too much caution.”

  “Who’s that from?” Ben asked.

  “Joanne Kramer.”

  “Cool,” Ben said. “Does that mean I get away with it?”

  Congrave laughed. “Get away with being an idiot you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I suppose so. I’m going to have to be nice to Stanton now and keep you out of the way.”

  “Oh,” Ben said. “I was hoping I might get back down there.”

  “I’ve got something else planned for you,” Congrave said. He leant forward and put his elbows on the desk. “A little trip to Scotland.”

  Ben blinked. Of all the things Congrave could have said to him, this was one he hadn’t expected. “Like in the country?”

  Another smile. “Yes.”

  “Should I be worried about this?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it sounds like I should. I was expecting to be locked up in the Tower of London.”

  “We don’t do that any longer.”

  “Good.” Ben scratched his chin. “So, Scotland?”

  “An unusual event has been reported. I’d like Joanne to stay down in Cornwall to keep an eye on the investigation there so you head up north.”

  “On my own?”

  “No, someone will meet you up there. You’ll fly from Bristol to Aberdeen.”

  “Today?”

  “Of course. I’ll walk you down.”

  As they left his office, Congrave turned the opposite way to reception. Ben followed without a word. Either Congrave knew of a shortcut or he wanted to show Ben something on the way.

  The something turned out to be a former bedroom converted into an open plan office. There were four desks, with three occupied by two men and a woman. Ben knew one of the men. He’d crossed paths with Reuben Simpson-Brown back in the States when he took part in Operation Ghost. Reuben, his partner Natalie and a British Special Forces team had snatched a ten-year-old psychic out from under the noses of Ben and Kramer. That was water under the bridge now as Natalie died in the final confrontation with the demon Scieppend. Reuben still looked like he hadn’t got over her death. At least he raised a smile when he saw Ben.

  “Hello, Ben. Back already?”

  “Yeah, something’s cropped up I need to look at.”

  “Which is why we’re here to see you,” Congrave said to Reuben. “I want you to head down to Cornwall. Joanne Kramer’s on her own, and she’ll need backup in dealing with the on-site army commander. I get the feeling he’s ultra-cautious on this one. Joanne will need someone with her to press him on with the investigation.”

  “Today?”

  “I’d prefer yesterday,” Congrave said.

  Reuben half-laughed. “I’ll finish up here and get my stuff together.”

  Back out in the corridor, walking past a series of huge portrait paintings of previous residents of the Hall, Ben said, “What’s the background to Scotland?”

  “You’ll be fully briefed when you arrive,” Congrave said as they descended the stairs.

  Daisy looked up from her keyboard as they reached reception. She pushed an envelope across the desk to Ben.

  “Here are your flight details,” she said as he picked up the envelope.

  “So, you do know where I’m going.”

  “No, the envelope’s sealed.”

  Ben checked. “I’m sure you must have attended some spy class where they taught you to open these without anyone knowing.”

  “I did, but that came from Mr Congrave, and I’d be sent to count penguins in Antarctica if I tried anything like that.”

  “She knows you,” Ben said to Congrave.

  Daisy’s boss smiled. “I wouldn’t be that kind,” he said, with a hint of a smile.

  Chapter Two

  Marsha Boot stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel she’d left hanging on a rail. She dried herself as quickly as she could. The air temperature seemed a couple of degrees lower than before she stepped under the water. Picking her dressing gown up off the floor, she headed back to her room. Inside, with the door closed, she paused to listen. Her room, or at least the one allocated to her, lay above the living room and she wanted to hear what was going on below.

  Her housemates were down there. Ellie and Carlo. Both in their twenties, assistants to senior researchers, they had been put together when the accommodation was being handed out. As soon as they walked in the front door, Marsha knew she was heading for gooseberry territory. How a man had ended up being billeted with two women made Marsha scratch her head. She asked the adjutant how it happened and he just shrugged and said all the rooms were allocated and that was that. For the first three days Marsha had sat around watching Carlo flirt and Ellie giggle. After catching them canoodling in the kitchen last night, Marsha had been woken by some very noisy night activity that came through the thin wall between her room and Ellie’s.

  Marsha sighed. She could hear them up to something now. The house they were in was a new-build. Twenty-five carbon copy properties stuck in a field on the edge of the old village most of which had been snapped up by second-homers who lived in London and were now used as holiday lets. That made it easy for the authorities to requisition the properties and stick the research and security teams into them. The developers had apparently used the thinnest legal materials for the walls and floorboards. Sound waves didn’t even slow down in this place.

  A loud squeal made Marsha frown. She wondered where Carlo had his hand. Ellie seemed to like it because another squeal came hot on the heels of the first and this one trailed away into a definite ‘I like that’ sound. Marsha wanted to stamp on the floor to remind them that someone else lived here too. She didn’t. Instead, Marsha sat on her bed and stared at her reflection in the dressing table mirror.

  I’m not ugly. Plain, maybe, but not ugly. So why do all the men just see me as a colleague?

  The fact that Carlo jumped straight into bed with a bit of totty like Ellie made Marsha feel sick.

  Jealous? No. Not jealous. Well, perhaps a tiny bit. I’m almost fifty and can count the men in my life on one hand. In fact, one hand that’s lost a couple of fingers. I just wish I had Ellie’s kind of personality. Bubbly sums her up. I’m just too serious.

  Another squeal came from below. Marsha heard Carlo say something, his voice a deep rumble followed by Ellie again, this time her rising voice cut off as if a guillotine had come down across her throat.

  Silence.

  Marsha strained to hear the tiniest sound. Anything that would let her know that Ellie was okay. With bad thoughts in her head, Marsha tiptoed out of her room and along the landing to the top of the stairs. It looked as if the lights had tripped. What Marsha could see of the hall was in darkness. She started down and then stopped. The shadows looked more like a living gloom full of movement that swept upward, covering a new step with each beat of her heart.

  Marsha ran back to her room and slammed the door shut.

  I must be hallucinating.

  She leant against the door. No more sounds came from the living room but that didn’t mean anything. Carlo and Ellie could just be having a kiss and a cuddle on the sofa. Taking a breath to steady her nerves Marsha pushed off the door. She must have imagined the darkness. Perhaps the change from hot shower to cold air had made her dizzy. Marsha sat on the bed, resting back against the headboard with her knees tucked up to her chest.

  I’ve been working too hard recently. I need a break.

  Marsha frowned. Did the bed just move? She glanced down at the floor. The carpet dis
solved into darkness. Marsha stared at it in horror, cold dread crawling across her flesh. The floor vanished.

  Not possible.

  Now the bed moved again, as if it were a raft adrift on an ocean of tar. Marsha looked for her phone and saw it lying out of reach on the surface of the dressing table. The bed moved again and this time Marsha screamed.

  ***

  Standing on the doorstep of her cottage Kramer debated whether Stanton would expect an invitation inside for a coffee after he’d refused her offer to go halves on the meal they’d shared that evening. She’d learnt a lot about him, mostly because he liked talking about himself. The first thing he’d mentioned was his marital status. Divorced. Warning bells had rung in her head. With Scarrett away, did Stanton expect her to play? It appeared likely. He smiled, called her Jo all the time and topped her wineglass up whenever she took so much as a mouthful. He also seemed to think telling her about his service exploits that mostly consisted of sitting in a supply depot and never hearing a shot fired in anger would be interesting.

  Kramer kept quiet about her exploits. The rough stuff she’d seen went beyond terrorists into the realms of the unbelievable. She just smiled back at Stanton, made the right sounds and wondered why Scarrett’s phone had gone straight to voicemail when she called him earlier in the evening. They’d only been an item for a couple of weeks, or maybe less if she worked it out properly, but the fact he hadn’t replied, even with a message, rankled.

  Stanton put his hand out to lean against the cottage, and it happened to be right next to Kramer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. Time to put him out of his misery.

  “What time in the morning?” she asked.

  “Any time you like. We’re still in the early stages of field research so just pop down and see us. Do you like lie-ins?”

  “No, I prefer to be up early.”

  “Up with the lark, as they say.” Stanton smiled.

  Kramer edged closer to the door. “Time for me to go in. I’ve got some calls to make.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “It’s still afternoon at my home base in the US.”

  Stanton shook his head. He still rested close to her, his body blocking out the single street light and forming a dark pool of shadow between them.