The House on Widows Hill

by Simon R. Green

  His voice cut off as the others came storming in. Tom slammed the door shut behind them and threw his hammer into the open suitcase.

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘He hit the hinges with everything he had, and they didn’t even notice,’ said Freddie. ‘Then he tried the lock, and the hammer bounced off and hit him on the head.’

  ‘That door was built to keep things in, not out,’ said Lynn.

  ‘I even put my shoulder to it,’ said Freddie. ‘And there’s not much can stand against that.’ She rubbed her left shoulder and winced.

  ‘Told you that wouldn’t work,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Only after I tried,’ said Freddie.

  ‘I wanted to see how far you’d bounce,’ said Lynn.

  ‘I wonder how far I could make you bounce,’ said Freddie.

  ‘We’d need a chainsaw to get through that door,’ Penny said quickly. ‘And since none of us thought to bring one, I think we’re all stuck here till the morning.’

  ‘We could still try the upstairs windows,’ said Tom.

  ‘They’re bound to be nailed shut as well,’ said Freddie.

  ‘You don’t know that!’ said Lynn.

  ‘Want to bet on it?’ said Freddie. ‘Malcolm Welles put a lot of thought into making Harrow House his own private prison.’

  Lynn nodded reluctantly. ‘But he wouldn’t have built a prison he couldn’t get out of. There must be a way …’

  ‘There was,’ I said. ‘He unlocked the front door and ran for it.’

  ‘Then why didn’t what was in here follow him out?’ said Freddie.

  ‘Perhaps it couldn’t,’ said Lynn. ‘And that’s why it’s still here.’

  ‘All we have to do is stay here till morning,’ I said quickly. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  ‘It is always possible that Arthur’s death was just a coincidence,’ Freddie said abruptly. ‘A friend of mine died suddenly, a few years back, and when they opened him up, they found it was down to a weak artery in his brain. Could have popped any time, they said – like a time bomb in his head.’ She stopped and looked at the floor where Arthur’s body had been. ‘Life isn’t fair, and neither is death.’

  ‘You were too old for him anyway,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Is that supposed to be comforting?’ said Freddie.

  I half expected Arthur to say something, but he didn’t. I noticed Penny was looking at me oddly. I nodded for her to come and join me, away from the others.

  ‘What?’ I said quietly.

  ‘What, yourself?’ said Penny. ‘I’ve never seen you so jumpy.’

  ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind,’ I said.

  ‘Did you discover anything useful while we were gone?’

  ‘Not as such, no.’

  I didn’t tell her about Arthur, because I didn’t feel like telling anybody, just yet. Partly because I didn’t want to spook anyone, but also because I didn’t want to upset Arthur by revealing his presence before he was ready. And because I still wasn’t ready to admit that he definitely was what he appeared to be. Or sometimes appeared to be.

  Just thinking about him was enough to give me a headache.

  Lynn and Freddie settled down in their chairs again, as far apart as they could get and still be in the same room. Lynn looked as if she was thinking hard, though I had no idea what about. Freddie also seemed lost in her own thoughts, most likely about Arthur. Tom was checking the readings on his screen, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it. It was just something to do, to keep him occupied. I nodded to Penny to keep an eye on Lynn and Freddie, and went over to join Tom. He started speaking without even looking at me.

  ‘Room temperature is back to normal. Everything is back in the normal range. But I don’t know if that means anything. I don’t think I can trust anything my instruments tell me, in this house.’

  He sounded dejected. Science had let him down. One of the camera feeds slipped out of focus, and he made no move to adjust it.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s important to keep track of what’s happening in here?’ I said.

  ‘Not really.’ He slapped the side of his screen, and the image sharpened again. ‘I just want to survive till morning, so I can get the hell away from here and put this whole stupid mess behind me.’ He sighed heavily. ‘This kind of thing … It used to be all fun and games. Shining the harsh light of science into the dark corners of superstition … I never thought I’d have to watch someone die. I always thought I’d be good in a crisis, that I’d be right there trying to help … But when it all went to hell in a hurry, I just sat there and did nothing. I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t let him down, Arthur might still be alive.’

  ‘Don’t think that for a moment,’ I said. ‘There was nothing you could have done. You’re not responsible for what happened to him.’

  Unless you are, I thought. But I’m not sure you’re that good an actor.

  Tom didn’t say anything. He didn’t care what I thought. He just kept on looking at his screen, as though still half hoping it might give him some answers he could live with. I moved away and left him to it.

  I couldn’t rule out Harrow House being involved in Arthur’s death, especially given his surprise reappearance, but I wasn’t prepared to accept anything in that line without some kind of evidence to back it up. Murder still seemed the most likely explanation, and the people in the circle with Arthur had to be the most likely suspects. Which meant I only had until help arrived in the morning to work out who did it, and how and why. Before the front door was opened and all my suspects scattered to the four winds.

  Freddie suddenly sat up straight in her chair. ‘Hey! Have any of you noticed that the scary atmosphere isn’t here any more? I only just realized. Did anyone notice when it stopped?’

  We all looked at each other, but no one had anything to offer.

  ‘I think it disappeared after what happened to Arthur,’ said Penny. ‘It’s hard to concentrate on a general bad feeling when someone has just died.’

  ‘But where did it come from?’ said Tom.

  ‘This is a bad place,’ said Lynn. ‘It doesn’t want us here.’

  ‘All this time, I’ve been insisting that ghosts are just people,’ Freddie said slowly. ‘But now I think I was wrong. Ghosts are dead people. And that makes all the difference. All the things that make us human, the thoughts and emotions that shape us, come from the lives we’ve led. Take that away, and maybe a ghost could do anything, because it wouldn’t care about anything.’

  ‘There must be some humanity left in ghosts,’ said Penny. ‘Or why would they want to interact with the living at all?’

  ‘Questions, questions,’ Tom said irritably. ‘And never an answer in sight. What I used to like about science was the idea that there were always answers to be found, if you just looked hard enough.’

  ‘I don’t care about ghosts any more,’ said Lynn. ‘Or this house. I just want to go home.’

  ‘Well, you can’t,’ I said. ‘So you might as well make yourself useful. You’re the only psychic we’ve got, so are you picking up anything?’

  Lynn looked at me. ‘You’ve made it clear enough that you don’t believe in my abilities. Why turn to me now?’

  ‘I’m not as sure about some things as I used to be,’ I said. ‘Arthur’s death has made me reassess how I see the world. Are you picking up anything, from anywhere in the house? Are we alone here?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Lynn. ‘I’m not opening up my mind in this awful place. I don’t trust it.’

  ‘I don’t think Harrow House cares what you want,’ I said. I could feel Penny looking at me disapprovingly, wondering why I was pressuring Lynn, but I kept going. ‘If you still want to be alive in the morning when help arrives, the best way to ensure that is to work out exactly what it is that’s threatening us.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s inhabiting this house!’ Lynn said sharply. ‘And I don’t want to know. I was wrong to insist on the seance. Just attracting the house’s attentio
n was enough to get Arthur killed. The best thing we can do is stay quiet, keep our heads down and hope to hell that whatever’s in here with us goes back to sleep.’

  She turned around in her chair, curled up in a tight ball and refused to look at anyone. I caught Penny’s eye, and we moved off a way.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Penny said quietly.

  ‘Lynn has been acting strangely ever since Arthur died,’ I said. ‘Even if she is a compete fake, I would have expected her to be all over that, claiming to be in contact with Arthur’s spirit so she could hit us with the usual comforting platitudes.’

  ‘It’s one thing to claim to be in contact with the dearly departed and quite another to watch someone die right before your eyes,’ said Penny. ‘She’s probably in shock.’

  ‘She’s keeping something from us,’ I said. ‘Though whether it has anything to do with Arthur’s death remains to be seen. Did you overhear anything useful, down by the front door?’

  ‘Tom was really quiet after he got hit in the head with his own hammer, Lynn became very sarcastic, and Freddie can swear like a soldier,’ said Penny. ‘Makes you wonder where she spends her evenings. So, Ishmael, are you ready to tell me what happened in this room while I was gone?’

  I gave her my best innocent look. ‘What makes you think something happened here?’

  ‘Because I know you, Ishmael, and I can read you like a book, especially the dog-eared pages. You’re so on edge you’re halfway over it, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were suffering from shock, too.’

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Something … unexpected did happen.’

  I told her about Arthur, leaving nothing out and not sparing myself any embarrassment at being forced to change my position on the matter of ghosts. Penny looked at me wide-eyed until I’d finished, and then grinned broadly.

  ‘I was right, and you were wrong … I am never going to let you forget that for as long as we both live. You met an actual ghost? That is so cool! What did Arthur look like? Was he transparent? Did he have a face like Lynn, only even paler? Does he know who killed him?’

  ‘He looked perfectly normal,’ I said. ‘And no, he has no idea how he came to die so suddenly.’

  ‘Hold everything, throw it in reverse,’ said Penny. ‘If he looked normal … how can you be sure it wasn’t just him? Woken up from a coma, perhaps, and come wandering back in to find out what happened?’

  ‘Because he appeared out of nowhere, right in front of me,’ I said. ‘And because I waved my hand back and forth through his body. He really didn’t like that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have either,’ said Penny. ‘Oh, I wish I’d been here to see him … It’s not fair that you should be the one to have a close encounter with a ghost.’

  ‘I am now far more open to the idea that Harrow House might actually be haunted,’ I said.

  ‘If only by Arthur.’

  ‘Not just him,’ I said. ‘It’s looking more and more likely that Malcolm Welles built this house specifically to imprison something, and that it might still be here, even after all these years.’

  We both turned to look at the man scowling fiercely out of his portrait over the fireplace. He did look as if he knew something he wasn’t planning on sharing with anyone else.

  ‘I swear, if he winks at me, I will tear that portrait into pieces,’ said Penny.

  ‘This is a murder case,’ I said sternly, ‘not a Scooby Doo adventure.’

  Penny sniffed loudly and gave me her own stern look. ‘How could Arthur not know who killed him?’

  ‘Because it all happened so quickly,’ I said. ‘It’s not like someone clubbed him down with a blunt instrument.’ I paused. ‘I’ve never understood why those things are so popular. You can do much more damage with a sharp instrument.’

  ‘Your mind goes wandering off on the strangest tangents sometimes,’ said Penny.

  ‘I think about these things.’

  ‘I still can’t believe Arthur appeared to you, and not me,’ said Penny. ‘Couldn’t you at least get him to wait until I got back, so I could meet him as well?’

  ‘He disappeared because he didn’t want anyone else to see him,’ I said.

  ‘Can’t you call him back?’

  ‘He hasn’t gone anywhere,’ I said. ‘He’s still here, just invisible.’

  Penny looked quickly around her, realized that wasn’t going to work and fixed me with a hard stare.

  ‘Why would he do that? Arthur never struck me as shy.’

  ‘I think it’s his way of coping with what’s happened,’ I said. ‘Giving him some feeling of control over his new state of being. Or non-being, I suppose, if you want to be technical.’

  ‘If he’s still here, I want to talk to him,’ said Penny. She lowered her voice. ‘Arthur? Please show yourself. I promise I won’t be frightened, or badger you with questions like Ishmael probably did.’

  ‘You’d better do it,’ I said to the empty air. ‘She won’t give either of us a moment’s peace until you do.’

  ‘It won’t work,’ said Arthur’s voice, from just a little to one side. ‘I just know you’re the only one who can see and hear me.’

  ‘Give it a try,’ I said. ‘Penny’s really very sympathetic …’

  ‘No rest for the recently and suddenly departed,’ said Arthur’s voice. ‘What’s the point of being dead if you can’t enjoy a little peace and quiet?’

  Penny looked at me accusingly. ‘I’m only hearing one side of this conversation, aren’t I?’

  ‘Apparently,’ I said. ‘Can’t you hear anything he’s saying?’

  ‘No,’ said Penny, frowning. ‘Tell him to materialize, Ishmael. Maybe I’ll be able to hear him when I can see him.’

  Arthur appeared out of nowhere, standing before us. Penny didn’t react at all, still looking at the point where I’d been looking.

  ‘Told you,’ said Arthur.

  ‘Is he here yet?’ said Penny. ‘I’m not seeing anything.’

  Arthur thrust his face right into hers. ‘Hello! Here I am! Dead man talking! What do I have to do to get your attention? Riverdance on the ceiling?’

  Penny scowled and turned to me. ‘I’m not feeling a chill, never mind a presence. I don’t think he’s really trying, Ishmael. You tell Arthur to get his act together, or I’ll have Lynn exorcise him!’

  She stalked off in a huff and threw herself into the nearest empty chair. The others looked at her, and then at me, decided we must have had a disagreement and went back to their own thoughts. None of them even glanced at where Arthur was standing. He made a rude gesture at the lot of them and then shrugged tiredly.

  ‘I needn’t have bothered with the invisible man bit. It seems I am only here for you, after all. Just as well. I wouldn’t want Freddie to see me like this.’

  ‘Why not?’ I said. ‘She’s not the type to freak out at the sight of a ghost, and it might give her some comfort to know for sure that there is life after death.’

  ‘I’m not convinced there is,’ said Arthur. ‘I haven’t seen any doors marked Heaven or Hell. No choirs of angels summoning me to my rest … For all I know, I could be nothing more than a last fading echo, the final glow of light before the candle goes out forever.’

  ‘You’re not the most optimistic of people, are you?’

  ‘Do you blame me?’

  ‘Then we’d better figure out why you’re still here, while we can,’ I said. ‘And why you of all people should come back as a ghost.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ said Arthur, bristling. ‘I’ve as much right to come back as anyone else!’

  ‘But that’s just it,’ I said. ‘Most people don’t come back. I’ve been around any number of sudden and violent deaths, and not one of them ever showed up afterwards to bother me.’

  Arthur looked at me with new interest. ‘You’ve seen lots of murder victims? That’s amazing. Unless you’re a serial killer. You’re not, are you? If you are, you’d better stay the hell away from Freddie or I w
ill haunt you wherever you go and never give you a moment’s peace.’

  ‘You’re doing a pretty good job of that already,’ I said. ‘Relax, Arthur; I am not a serial killer.’

  ‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ Arthur said cunningly.

  ‘Let us please try to concentrate on your murder,’ I said. ‘Why do you think you’ve returned?’

  ‘I suppose it could be something to do with my family,’ Arthur said slowly. ‘We’ve always been closely tied to Harrow House, despite everything we’ve tried to do to rid ourselves of it.’

  ‘But why am I the only one who can see and hear you? I don’t know your family, and I’d never even heard of Harrow House before today.’

  Arthur looked at me thoughtfully. ‘There is something different about you … I can feel it in what used to be my bones. Like there’s more to you than most people.’

  He waited for me to say something, and when I didn’t, he just shrugged.

  ‘I don’t suppose it’s important. What matters is finding out who killed me. And since I can’t question anyone, or search for clues, I think I’ll just leave you to get on with it. I’m going home, to my family.’

  ‘You think they’ll be able to see you?’

  ‘Even if they can’t, I’ll be able to see them,’ said Arthur. ‘And there are things I need to say, even if they can’t hear me.’

  He headed for the door. I did wonder for a moment whether the hall would be full of darkness again, once Arthur opened the door. But when he tried to turn the handle, his hand slipped right through it.

  ‘All right!’ he said harshly. ‘If my hand can go through the handle, I’m going through the door. I am going home!’

  Arthur walked straight at the door, only to slam up against it. He looked startled, and then very angry indeed. He picked a different spot and tried again, but the door wouldn’t let him through. He turned his back on the door, with as much dignity as he could muster, and addressed me with a surprising amount of courtesy, considering both his hands had clenched into fists.

  ‘Would you please be so kind as to open this door for me, Mr Jones?’

  I went over to the door and opened it. And then I made a point of looking out into the brightly lit hall and listening ostentatiously, as though I thought I’d heard something. I needn’t have bothered; when I glanced back, no one else was even looking in my direction. I stepped back from the door, and Arthur nodded curtly and strode past me. Only to crash to a sudden halt, as though he’d banged up against an invisible barrier. As though the door was still there, in spirit. He placed both hands against the air and pushed hard, but the empty doorway held firm. Arthur looked back at me.