by kindels
"Well, Mr. Forbes, or may I call you William?" He nodded his assent. "William it shall be then. I'm what some people call a paranormal investigator, though I prefer to think of myself as a simple reader of people and situations, an observer of the unusual traits that some of my fellow human beings exhibit from time to time. Over the years, my talents have, I admit, brought me into contact with a great many people who have had what they term as 'supernatural experiences, and I've been able, in some cases, to either verify or deny such occurrences. You see, William, too many people are prepared to dismiss the supernatural, as though it has no part to play in the modern world, and yet I firmly believe that much of what is termed supernatural is, in fact, a manifestation of our own minds, as though some of us are able to make things happen without knowing quite how or why it takes place."
"So, you're saying that if something is supernatural, it's really being caused by the mind of the person who experiences it, whatever it is?"
"It's a little more complicated than that, William. I've had contact with many people of different beliefs, spiritualists and church people, and out-and-out atheists, who hold no religious beliefs at all and, yet, over the years, I've found evidence of such happenings being experienced by them all. So, no, I don't dismiss the supernatural out of hand. What I'm saying is that sometimes, however, we can be to blame for our own experiences, when our minds allow themselves to be taken over by an idea, or a specific fear, for example."
"When someone is seriously disturbed, mentally, you mean? You and David think I'm crazy, is that it?"
"Not at all, William. David has asked me to come and listen to your story with him, because he feels I'm better qualified than he is to make a decision or pass judgement on the paranormal elements of your tale, which he tells me is quite astounding so far. As you were about to enter the phase of informing him of how this phenomenon has affected you, he felt a second opinion from someone with more experience in such matters would be helpful. He is a highly intelligent man and has wide ranging experience in all aspects of criminal behaviour and psychological traumas, but he knows just how important this is to you and he simply felt I could help. I hope you don't mind."
When she was being totally serious and left the joking side of her nature behind, Kate Goddard could be a most formidable and persuasive lady. Her charms had obviously done the trick when Forbes replied: "In that case, I'm delighted that you agreed to travel all this way, to add your undoubted skills to trying to help me end this, once and for all."
I now decided it was time to get things moving. It was growing late in the afternoon and I wanted Forbes to move on with his story, but there was something that had to be done first.
"Kate, I think you and William need to go over what he's already told me before we can make any further progress. Would you mind telling Kate your story so far, William?"
"Of course," said Forbes, and Kate added, "Perhaps you could leave the two of us for an hour or so, David. I'd like to hear William's story, so far, in private, so I can assess it independently of any theories you may already have formulated."
"No problem," I replied. I knew that Kate would be able to add to her already growing mental data on William Forbes far more effectively from a one-on-one discussion with him, and I soon left the two of them, closeted in my sitting room as I made my excuses and made my way to the boat shed, where I spent a useful hour tidying up the equipment stored there and performing some basic, routine maintenance on the launch's engine.
By the time I returned to the croft, Forbes was just arriving at the break-off point he and I had reached the previous night, so I quickly left them to conclude the first part of the story and disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I'd guessed they'd be thirsty by the time they finished, and I was correct in my assumption when I reappeared with a tray some ten minutes later.
"Ah, excellent, refreshments!" said Kate. "I wondered when the catering staff would show up again."
"Cheeky bugger," I grinned at her. "Next time it'll be your turn to make the tea."
"Oh now, David dear, what a way to treat a guest. Now be a good boy, shut up, and pour!"
"You're incorrigible, Kate Goddard." I replied, laughing as I spoke.
"But of course I am, darling. Why do you think no man would ever lead me down the aisle, to live forever imprisoned in Holy matrimony?"
"Because, dear lady, the man hasn't yet been born who could cope with your wicked sense of humour or your acid tongue. You forget, I've seen you at your worst, as well as at your best, Miss Goddard."
Appearing to ignore me completely, Kate turned to face Forbes.
"He's quite right you know, William. I'd have made a most unfortunate catch for any poor, unsuspecting man who'd had the misfortune to snare me in marriage. I suspect divorce would have featured strongly in any such liaison in my life."
"Oh, I'm sure you're both quite wrong," said Forbes, politely. "I've found you to be a most agreeable lady in the past hour or so. You've listened patiently and without interruption to my story so far, with the ultimate politeness."
"Indeed I have, William, but, then again, you haven't asked for my hand in marriage, have you?"
Kate burst out laughing, a loud and raucous laugh that I knew all too well. I couldn't help but join in, and then, much to my surprise, and I suspect Kate's as well, Forbes joined in. It was the first evidence of any levity he'd exhibited since I'd met the man, and I felt relieved that, at least for a few seconds, a spot of humour had pierced his waking terrors and enabled him to smile at last.
The brief interlude for tea and yet more biscuits over, Kate asked if she could speak to me in private, for a few minutes, before Forbes took up his story once more. Forbes made no objections and Kate helped me clear the tea things away, and we retired to the kitchen for a quick conference.
"Well?" I asked as soon as the kitchen door closed, leaving the two of us shielded from Forbes's sight and hearing. "I know you've been watching him from the moment you saw him from the dock in Balnakiel. Any thoughts?"
There was no jocularity about Kate Goddard as she replied.
"There's something odd about our Mister Forbes," she said. "I can sense something, though I can't quite put my finger on it, not yet at least. Don't get me wrong David. I'm not saying he's a fake, certainly not. There's a great disturbance happening in and around William Forbes, I don't doubt that for a moment, but there's also an aura I can't quite grasp."
"An aura?"
"Yes, well, two to be precise, and that's what's confusing me. There's an overwhelming aura of fear, that much is certain. When I say fear, I mean mortal dread. He's surrounded by it, though it doesn't all emanate from Forbes himself. It's as if there's more than one of him, if you know what I mean, or at least, more than one element of fear present within him. And then there's the second aura, and that's the one that disturbs me the most, David. There's a malevolence about it, and it's slowly wrapping itself tighter and tighter around him. He doesn't know it, but his mind is slowly opening itself up to the great power that this aura brings with it. I don't quite understand what's happening here, but I do know that William Forbes is a man in great turmoil, and that you were definitely correct in calling me in the middle of the night. This man needs help, David, and he needs it now!"
You must remember that I'd told Kate nothing of the facts surrounding Forbes and his visit to consult with me. She knew nothing of the tale he'd told me about Jack the Ripper, or his spirit at least, being 'after him', as he put it. So far, all she knew was the first part of the story as Forbes had related it to me the previous night. And yet, here she was, telling me things which, at the very least, made me think that there just might be something in what Forbes had told me, unbelievable as it may sound. I far from believed in him entirely, but Kate's words certainly made me feel a little more well-disposed towards my guest's story. The look on my face at that point must have spoke volumes, because Kate looked me in the eye and said: "What? You know more than I about all
this, David. Have I said something pertinent already?"
"Really pertinent, Kate. Until you spoke, just now, I was perhaps prepared to write Mr. Forbes off as an over-imaginative crank who'd been scared to death by his meetings with a serial killer. Now, I'm not so sure. Perhaps you'll realise why, when Forbes goes on with his story and tells you exactly why he's so terrified. I haven't heard it yet, of course, but I am privy to a little more information than you, and that's why your words, just now, have given me pause for thought. I'm presuming Forbes didn't tell you any more than ... ?"
Kate raised a hand, halting my question in its stride.
"Not a word more than I asked him to. And that was simply to relate to me his story up to the point you and he left it last night. He told me of the Burton Cavendish affair and the birth of the child, right up to Jack Reid's second and final period of incarceration at Ravenswood. He delivered the whole thing as he would a lecture to a group of students. I particularly asked him to be as brief and as succinct as possible, without elaboration. He did really well, David."
"And he showed no signs of being gripped by fear, or panic, or anything like that?
Nothing at all. It was odd though. While he was telling me his story, his eyes kept darting around the room, as if he looking for someone or something. Strange, also, that he can retell such a lengthy tale without notes or some form of written aids."
"I thought that too, and yes, his eyes were constantly monitoring the room while he spoke to me too."
"If I didn't know better, David, I'd swear he was searching for a connection to a presence neither you nor I are aware of, almost as though he were seeking approval for the way he was relating the tale."
"Good God, Kate. That's a massive leap in intuitive deduction, if you don't mind me saying so."
"As I said, it was just a fleeting feeling. I could be terribly wrong, of course, and, in fact, I hope I am. I'd hate to think there was some ethereal entity sharing your lovely home with the three of us."
"Oh, come on Kate. That's enough of that kind of talk, if you don't mind. Carry on like that and you'll end up scaring me, and I don't scare easily."
"David, my dear, if I carry on like that, and if there is anything like that lurking in the ether here on Skerries Rock, I'll damn well end up scaring myself!"
Kate smiled, and I wasn't entirely convinced as to whether that smile was meant to reassure me.
"I think we should be getting back to our friend in the other room," I said, trying to drive the conversation back to a less supernatural level.
"Agreed. It's time we both heard the rest of Mr. Forbes's story."
With that, the two of us rejoined William Forbes, who sat waiting patiently for our return, his hands clasped together on his lap; his eyes still carrying that far away look, though the smile with which he greeted our return appeared warm and genuine enough.
"Hello, have you agreed on the degree of my madness yet?" he asked, half laughingly.
"All I can say, William, is that I don't think you're mad at all." Kate replied.
"Neither do I," I added slightly less convincingly.
"Then, would you like me to tell you the final, awful part of my story? I warn you now, it's almost driven me to despair, and if the two of you can't help me, then I fear it won't be long before I find myself in an early grave."
"Oh, come now, it can't be as bad as that, surely?" I asked.
"Can't it? I'll let you judge that for yourselves. Now, to get back to Jack Reid and my involvement with that damned lunatic, homicidal maniac."
Forbes took a deep breath, Kate and I involuntarily held ours, and he launched into the explanation for his ultimate terror and the reasons for his being here on Skerries Rock with me, trying to cling on to the 'final vestiges' of his sanity, as he put it. I admit, to being totally unprepared for what was yet to come, though I suspect, with hindsight, that Kate already had an inkling. She'd read Forbes like a book so far, and maybe she was a page or two ahead of me as he began.
Chapter Thirteen
A Question
"Do you think we could have the lights on?" Forbes asked, as he began.
I rose and complied with his request, figuring it would make him feel more comfortable as the shadows of early evening began to cast their pall over the island, and the windows of my croft darkened in response.
"Thank-you, David," he said, as I returned to my chair and, once again, the voice of William Forbes led me, this time accompanied by Kate Goddard, into the strange world of the so-called Cavendish Legacy.
"So, my meetings with Jack Reid continued, with him relating his story to me, much as I am now relating it to the two of you. Reid went into far more detail than I've imparted to you, by the way, but I felt a fairly detailed overview would suit you better, rather than an actual blow-by-blow account of every sentence of conversation we exchanged."
Kate and I nodded our agreement, though she did take the opportunity to ask a question.
"William, you mentioned that Jack Reid died recently. Like David, I've heard all about Reid and his crimes. Who hasn't, unless they've been stranded on a desert island for years? No pun intended, David. I don't recall reading anything in the press about his death. What happened to him?"
"His death was reported; but, at the request of the Home Office, the press cooperated in releasing only a low-profile account of his demise. The authorities believed that enough publicity had accompanied Reid in life, without some sort of media circus greeting his death. I don't know how they got the various newspaper editors to agree, but they did."
"Ah, the Home Office has far-reaching powers, William. They could have issued a notice to the press that would force them to comply with their request, on the grounds of national security, or of it being a public interest issue. They can't quite gag the press, but they can make sure the press are co operative, under threat of prosecution and shutdowns. Those powers were brought in as part of a little-known raft of anti-terrorism legislation, soon after we entered the twenty-first century. They weren't popular with the press, but they've been obliged to comply."
"I see, of course, I should have realised, but my mind hasn't been working too well, as I've already told you. Still, as a member of the legal profession, I should have known."
"Not necessarily," I replied. "You are, or were, primarily concerned with civil law, as opposed to criminal cases, so the legislation wouldn't have been something you encountered much in your career."
"Perhaps," said Forbes. "Anyway, back to Jack Reid, and the matter, and the manner of his death."
I'd visited him on three occasions by the time I discovered he was terminally ill. It was the day of my fourth visit, and Ruth Truman called me into her office for a private conversation before I met with Reid. She didn't mince words.
" 'Jack Reid has been complaining of severe headaches for some weeks, as you probably know, Mr. Forbes?'
"Yes,' I replied. 'He's mentioned those headaches on a number of occasions.'
"Medical tests have revealed that Reid has developed a brain tumour. The prognosis is not good. In fact, such has been the rapidity of the growth, added to the fact that the doctor's say his condition is inoperable, and it is estimated that Reid has less than two weeks to live. I suggest that any business he has with you be concluded as soon as possible, Mr. Forbes, for obvious reasons.'
"So it was that I learned of the death sentence that nature appeared to have passed on Jack Reid, serial killer. It struck me as more than coincidental that he'd been struck by the self-same malady that had led to the death of his uncle, Robert Cavendish. I wondered if, perhaps. such tumours might run in the family, be hereditary, maybe? No one seemed prepared to give me a satisfactory answer to that question, despite me asking a number of doctors, all of whom appeared to hold differing views on the subject. Reid died sixteen days after my final visit to Ravenswood. There wasn't much of a funeral held for him. His body was eventually released to his parents, who had it cremated, and his ashes scattered. No
memorial stands anywhere to commemorate the life of Jack Reid."
Forbes fell silent for a moment, and Kate took the opportunity to speak once again.
"So, The Ripper, or the Cavendish legacy, whichever you call it, died with him?"
"I wish that could be true, oh, yes I do," said Forbes, becoming agitated. "But, that's sadly not the case. You'd think, wouldn't you, that if the curse was going to live on, it would do so through the surviving members of his family, his father maybe? But it appears that the curse seems to miss out on affecting certain members of the family, though always it has struck at least one member of each generation."
"But how could such a terrible burden fall upon your shoulders, William? You are not a Cavendish."
"No, I'm not, am I?"
Those last words were spoken, almost cryptically, by Forbes, a nuance of voice that wasn't lost on Kate, who picked upon it right away.
"You're keeping something back from us, William," she spoke bluntly.
"I don't mean to keep anything from you, either of you, but, please, I should return to my story. Only when I've told you everything, in the correct order, will you perhaps begin to understand."
"Then perhaps you should return to your intriguing tale," Kate replied. "I'm sorry for the interruption."
"That's okay. You needed to know something, and you asked."
"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I've already told you about the circumstances surrounding Reid's first period in Ravenswood, the trial, the conviction, and his subsequent exoneration of the Brighton crimes. There was no doubt about his guilt in the case of the Whitechapel murders, and no legal argument in the world that could keep him from being locked up, away from society, for a second time, this time, for good, as it turned out.
One of the most surprising things, about the time I spent with Jack Reid, was that I became highly impressed with his level of intelligence. Aside from being polite, well-mannered, and appearing to be in control of himself at all times, the man had a surprisingly high I.Q., and I've since come to understand that many psychopaths and sociopaths are, in fact, highly intelligent people. He'd spent many hours during his time at Ravenswood in the hospital library. Now, unlike a prison, Ravenswood is designated as a special hospital, so the library there enjoys a far greater selection of books than a normal prison facility would hold. Reid also had access to a computer and, apparently, spent a lot of time researching history on the Internet. Before you ask, Doctor Truman told me that certain sites are blocked by the authorities, so that inmates are unable to access, for example, Internet porn sites, and so on.