by Rachel Green
“Spoil sport.” Valerie knelt by the side of the prone man. “If I get him out,” she said, “he’s going to be looking for another host.”
“We need a circle,” said Jasfoup. “Er…”
“Allow me.” Latitia picked up the seven sigils she already knew. “Put him in here,” she said, indicating the area Keritel had spent much of the last fortnight. “I can cast in around him.”
“Wait a moment then.” Valerie, with Winston’s help, dragged Jim into the circle. She leaned over him and pressed her fingers over his heart, clavicle and temple. “You have three minutes before I can’t revive him,” she said.
Valerie cast the circle with a random order of sigils, wincing as it drew some of her energy as she uttered the last syllable.
“That’s stupid,” said Winston. “If Pelagia comes out he’s got nowhere to go.”
“Yes he has,” the small voice held the timbre of confidence. They looked down to see Keritel in Meinwen’s lap, his burned hand wrapped in a comfrey poultice. “He’s got the skulls.”
Sure enough, Pelagia’s skulls were still stacked exactly where the imp had left them, but for the one that had rolled out of his fingers. That one had been sliced cleanly in two as the circle was activated.
“One minute.” Winston’s voice echoed what they all feared, but Jim’s form seemed to grow and collapse as Pelagia left it.
“You hypocrite,” the spirit of the monk railed against the edge of the circle. “You said you never killed mortals.”
“I don’t.” Jasfoup shrugged and nodded toward Valerie. “She did.”
“If he dies I’ll have nowhere to go.” Pelagia shrieked. “His heart has stopped. Will you now condemn a spirit to oblivion?”
“Not at all,” Jasfoup smiled. “You have your pick of skulls to inhabit.”
“Voluntarily bind myself?” Pelagia laughed. “I really don’t think so. You can’t tell me what to do, demon.”
“But I can.” Latitia stood up, a half smile gracing her lips. She held out her left hand, the wedding ring shining brightly in the flickering light. “Love, honour and obey, I think you said. Get into the skull, darling.”
“No!” Pelagia shrieked as he was sucked into the pile of skulls. All went silent for a moment until Winston laughed and banged his sister on the back. “Way to go Lattie!” he said.
“Never mind that!” Latitia all but spat out the circle counter spell. “Save Jim, please!”
Valerie darted into the circle and with deft strikes to three of Jim’s atemi points, started his heart again. It was two or three minutes before his eyelids fluttered open.
“Wotcha mate,” he said on seeing Winston. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your life, mate.” Winston couldn’t help grinning.
“Where’s…” Jim didn’t get to finish the sentence and didn’t need to, since Latitia’s lips were pressed against his own.
Keritel shuffled over to the pile of skulls. His wounds were almost healed but he was loathe to give up the tenderness he was receiving from Meinwen. “Which one did he choose?” he asked the demon.
“I don’t know,” said Jasfoup. “There are fourteen skulls here, only one of which holds a silent Pelagia.” He picked up a skull and contemplated the empty eye sockets. “Is it this one?” He closed his grip, crushing the bone to powder.
“If it was he’s been destroyed now,” said Keritel.
“Best he speaks up before I crush the rest,” said Jasfoup. “Thirteen to go…”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chase signed his name with a flourish and handed the papers back to Michael Lanier. It had taken a week to prise the death certificate from the police and, barring anything unforeseen at the reading of Pennie’s will, he would receive his insurance payout in three days time.
“What will you do with the money?” Winston asked as they walked down the street. Chase had to prove he was due the money to stop the bank foreclosing on the sanctuary.
“Clear the debts,” he said. “Then I want to expand the sanctuary, make it start paying for itself by boarding people’s pets and putting in a decent laboratory. Maybe even a stable. There’s a place on Oldham Road gone up for sale. It’s the right size for a racing stable.” He grinned at Winston’s surprise. “That ticket from Saturday was a winner. I’d put a grand down at a hundred to one.”
“So you’re going to become a racecourse owner instead of a punter?” Winston nodded, taking a sideward glance at the man’s aquiline profile. “Sweet.”
“Yup. Gambling is a mug’s game.” Chase clapped his companion on the back. “How would you like to be the manager of an animal sanctuary?”
Winston laughed. “And have my car smelling like pig shit? I don’t think so, man. You’ll have to find another mug. I’m staying where I am. Now that Jim’s left Magelight the job got a whole lot easier.”
“Your loss.” Chase grinned as they approached the bank. “You know,” he said, “this is the first meeting with the bank’s small business manager I’m going to enjoy.”
“Ha!” Winston grinned. “Just don’t offer to shake on the deal.”
“No.” Chase looked down at his fingers, carefully splinted together. “I wish I could remember what made Benton change his mind, but I’m glad he did.”
Winston shrugged. “You may never know. I heard he moved to the East End. Less competition there,” he said.
“I hope he took his thugs with him.”
“Who knows.” They reached the door of the bank and Winston paused, one hand in his suit pocket. “I’m really sorry about Pennie, you know. I liked her a lot but she always talked about you.”
Chase gave a single nod, staring into the middle distance. “I would have married her,” he said. “Out of all the women I’ve known, and that’s a three figure number, she was the only one I thought about when I wasn’t with her.”
“I know what you mean.” Winston stared down at his feet. “Do you want me to wait?”
Chase looked at the bank doors and back to his new friend. “No,” he said. “There’s no telling how long this’ll go on for. I’ll catch you up.”
“Sure.” Winston clapped him on the back once, twice. “See you at the funeral.” He watched Chase go through the glass doors before he turned away.
“He hadn’t changed a bit, had he?” said Pennie. “Why was I in love with an arrogant dick like that?”
“You can’t help who you love.” Winston paused at the corner and stared along the shadowed buildings of Dark Passage.
“Meinwen?” Pennie asked. “You’ve pined for her for a long time. I can see it in your aura.”
“Nah.” Winston turned away. “She’s just a friend. We go back a ways, that’s all. There’s never been anything between us.”
“If you say so.”
Winston got the impression he was being hugged. It felt cold. And wet. “What was that for?”
“It looked like you needed it.” Pennie giggled. “Look! Your aura’s gone pink.”
“Shut up!” Winston shook her off and climbed the five steps to the door of Alexandrian Gold, where Julie worked. “You ready, doll?”
“Sure.” Julie grabbed a brush and brushed her long hair over her ruined eye while her computer closed down. She picked up her bag and came to the door, giving Winston a brief hug. “How have you been?” she said, locking the door of the shop and turning the sign to ‘Closed’. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”
“The usual,” said Winston, non-committally “You couldn’t rent me a room could you?”
“Latitia and Jim enjoying married life, are they?” Julie grinned. “Ask Harold if you’re serious. He has a room or two free.”
“I’ll do that. Tomorrow, maybe.”
“It’s a shame I didn’t know y
ou longer than about four days,” said Pennie. “You could have had my house. It’s too late now. If I’d known I was about to die I’d have made a new will in your favor.”
“Who is the beneficiary? Chase?”
“In a way.” The ghost shook slightly. “It all gets sold and the proceeds go to the sanctuary. It’s a registered charity.”
“You can’t win them all,” said Julie. She pulled on her black raincoat before opening the office door. “I’ll see you later, Harold. We’re going to the funeral.”
“Right.” Harold came to the door, his platinum hair falling free and unbrushed for once. “Hi,” he said the Pennie. “I’m sorry you died.”
“Thanks,” said Pennie. “There was a lot I wanted to do with my life. If I’d had the chance I would have…”
She was cut off by Harold closing the door again. Julie shrugged. “He’s not big on manners,” she said. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. It’s not like he knew me.”
Julie led the way to the door connecting the shop to the gallery downstairs. Felicia was already waiting for them, the gallery lights off and only the office illuminated.
“Wotcha,” she said. “Ready for the off?” She smiled at Pennie. “It must be odd for you to go to your own funeral.”
“I hope it’s a nice send off,” said Pennie. “At least I’m going to have some mourners. If I’d died a fortnight ago I’d have had only Steve.”
“And he’s dead too now,” Felicia said. “Still, the vicar would have been pleased with a thirty second gap between ‘Dearly Beloved’ and ‘Amen’.”
“Just a tad tasteless,” said Winston. “Can we get a move on? The show starts in half an hour.”
“We want good seats,” said Pennie. “Will it be a closed casket, do you think?”
“I really, really hope so,” said Winston.
* * * *
Latitia and Jim were already in the church when they arrived, Latitia in an elegant black silk and her husband looking like a scarecrow despite his handmade Harvey Price black suit. His tie had egg stains on it but he gave them a cheery wave as they arrived.
“Don’t,” said Julie, seeing Pennie bristle. “It wasn’t him, remember? He’s happy now to be part of whatever his friends are doing.”
“I know.” Pennie strode up the aisle and dipped her head into the closed coffin. “They’ve stitched me together,” she said. “I look quite nice.”
Winston looked green as he took the pew behind his sister. “Chase said he’d be here as soon as he could,” he said, his low voice almost a match for Betty’s Mozart on the organ, every F-sharp silent.
Valerie leaned forward from her seat on the third pew. “Who are those two men over there?” she asked.
Winston leaned backwards to see. “They’re police,” he said. “Mike Brandsford and Inspector White. They represent the community in cases like this.”
“That’s nice.” Valerie nodded at the woman in front of the Inspector. “And that?”
“That’s my mum,” said Pennie. “It’s nice of her to come. The police must have told her about it.”
“Pennie’s mum,” said Winston, realising Valerie had none of her enhancements in and couldn’t hear the guest of honour.
Valerie nodded. “I shall give her my condolences after the service,” she said. “Poor Pennie will never be redeemed and is destined to spend eternity wandering the cold earth.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Pennie. “I thought I might haunt the Bahamas for a bit.”
Winston spluttered and choked back laughter. “Sorry,” he said at Valerie’s glare. “It’s probably best I don’t say that to your mother.”
Julie nudged him as Reverend Mackenzie cane out of the vestry. “Shh,” she said, standing. The remainder of the murmuring ceased and Purvis reached the altar in silence. He looked out over the pitifully small congregation and clasped his hands. “Dearly beloved,” he began. “We are gathered here today to pay our last respects to Penelope Irene Lowry…”
* * * *
They were well into the second hymn: Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise, when the door creaked open and Chase crept in. He took up a position near the back of the church, reluctant to be seen. The funeral ground to a halt eventually and at a nod from Purvis, Winston, Felicia and the two policemen shouldered the casket and took it to the open grave.
“I thought the graveyard here was full?” Valerie whispered to Julie as they stood around the pit.
“It is,” she replied, but someone…” she nodded toward Jim and Latitia, “paid a great deal of money to have a site declared fit for burial. Don’t dig too deeply else you’ll disturb the last incumbent.”
“I see.” Valerie nodded. “Very wise.”
“There’s an old friend,” said Wrack from his perch on Julie’s shoulder. He had reappeared when they came out of the church. Technically he could go inside, as he meant no harm but as he quite rightly pointed out, why take the risk?
Julie followed his gaze. “That’s the imp from Magelight. What’s he doing here?” She followed the new arrivals line of sight and was in time to catch Latitia’s almost imperceptible nod.
It was only because she was already looking she saw the block fall from the church tower. It was obviously an accident. The police and several experts said afterwards there was no evidence of tampering.. It was sheer chance that a hundredweight of stone should choose the exact moment Chase stood underneath it to fall.
“That was uncalled for,” said Chase to the imp. “I could have been really hurt by that.”
“You were.” Keritel smiled, showing all three rows of teeth. “The patch of cat food underneath it is you.”
“Really?” Chase sighed. “Funny. I don’t feel nearly as upset as I thought I would.”
“Welcome to the afterlife,” said Pennie. “Thanks for everything.” She turned to Keritel. “Did you get the key I asked you for?”
“Yes,” said the imp, pulling it out of his loincloth pocket. “It was exactly where you said it would be, in the toilet cistern.”
“Excellent,” said Pennie. “Will you make sure it gets to Valerie?”
The imp nodded and opened a gate, vanishing into his tunnels.
“Well at least I can spend eternity with you.” Chase put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe that’s why I’m not upset about dying.”
“Sorry.” Pennie shook her head and nodded behind him. Chase turned, his face falling.
“Good day to you, Mister Spenser.” Jasfoup lifted his briefcase. “I believe you have an account to settle.” He took out a sheaf of parchment and unfurled his dark wings with a snap. “Let’s say it’s not the upward escalator you’ll be taking.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Jasfoup sat at the Edwardian café table in the garden, his feet up on the other chair, twirling an etched skull in his hands. “They got away all right?” he said.
Keritel nodded, his hands cupping the bowl of chai tea. “I got the stage make up like you asked and the ghost taught the homunculus how to apply it. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. He looks every inch the gentleman. The pretty ghost and the immortal monster-what-was-made-of-magic. There’s a story in that, if only you could tell it.”
“Quite.” Jasfoup spun the skull on one finger like a basketball. “What do you think, Pelagia? Do they make a fabulous couple or what?”
The skull remained dark and the demon laughed. “No matter. You’ll talk eventually, old son. I know you’re in there.” He turned back to the imp. “What of the other matter?”
“Done and dusted.” Keritel pulled out a sheaf of papers. “The Bishop’s retired and the Church Council have elected your vicar in his place.”
“Hardly my vicar,” said Jasfoup. “Will he be able to stay here?”
“Yes,” said the imp. “It needs the signature of the Church’s Accountant to authorise the upgrading of Saint Jude’s to a cathedral, with a commensurate increase in tithe and a resident bishop.”
“Excellent!” Jasfoup resisted the urge to steeple his fingers together. He pulled the papers across the table and signed them. “How’s the escape from limbo coming on?”
“So-so.” Keritel sniffed. “It’s not easy to sneak four billion souls out from under the watchful eyes of demons.”
“You’ll manage it.” Jasfoup shook the skull. “Hear that? I’m still keeping my end of the bargain.” He tossed it down again, though not so carelessly that it might chip. “Miserable sod.” He passed the papers back. “That’s all the loose ends tied, I think.”
“Will we see wedding bells?”
Jasfoup grunted. “Only if you move into the tower.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
P.C. Mike Brandsford cradled the bedraggled kitten in his arm and knocked on the door of Restless Paws. It was a rotten night, but Mike couldn’t risk taking it home. Not when he already had three cats.
The porch light came on and the door opened. The charity had undergone some changes since the untimely death of its founder, Charlton Spencer, and the porch light lit the sleepy hound-dog eyes of the new manager.
“Sorry it’s so late,” said Mike. “I was about to go off duty but I had to bring this little chap round. I’m sure he’ll be snapped up soon enough. Kittens are always popular.”
“Aye, I can always place kittens.”
It hissed as it was passed over and Mike laughed. “Poor little mite. It’s terrified.”
“Leave it with me. It won’t be frightened long.” César waited for the police car to leave before he closed the door.