Lost Souls

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Lost Souls Page 9

by Seth Patrick


  ‘Have you told those involved about your suspicions?’ asked Never.

  Bob shook his head. ‘It’d be dismissed out of hand. There’s nothing else to link them. This is pure gut, but I know it’s connected to Mary somehow. Please, Jonah. I need your help.’

  Jonah looked at Bob. He was about to turn him down when the detective spoke again. ‘Look, you know I mentioned the man who found the body?’

  ‘You mentioned he’d given you the creeps,’ said Jonah.

  ‘I think you should hear what he told me. Directly from him.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell me now?’

  Bob shook his head. ‘I can see it in your eyes, Jonah. You’re on the verge of saying no. We’re heading back to DC. Come with us and hear the guy out. If you still don’t want to do it, then I’ll understand.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ said Jonah. ‘If I decide to come, I’ll drive up there myself. That’s all I can promise.’

  ‘OK,’ said Bob. He stood, and so did Ray. ‘Third District Police Station. We’ll be there all day.’

  The detectives left, and Jonah turned to Never. ‘Do you think they really had any police business in Richmond, or were they here just for me?’

  ‘Oh, you were the police business, Jonah. Did you notice how vague they kept some things, just to pique your interest? Wait till you hear what the eyewitness said . . . Asking you to go to DC is an old trick, too. If you want people to do something big, get them to agree to smaller stuff first. In for a penny, you know? Uh, are you OK?’

  Jonah was staring at the exit, only half paying attention. He turned to Never. ‘What about what Mary wants? Bringing her back, asking her to go through it again. What will that cost her?’

  ‘Justice always comes at a price,’ said Never. ‘You of all people should know that.’

  *

  Jonah sent Never home and got himself another coffee so that he could sit quietly and fret.

  Bob Crenner had played things well, he thought. For a moment he wondered if the other cases Bob had mentioned could have been entirely invented, just to give him that extra push. No, he thought. There was a simple reason he wanted to think that way: the possibility of a killer out there, poised to do it again, left him with no real choice.

  He didn’t know if he was starting to agree with the Afterlifers about Mary’s right to be left undisturbed, but even if he was, it was a right that had limits. Justice did carry costs, as Never had pointed out. The cost to Mary was far lower than the cost of there being another victim.

  He finished his coffee and took the ten-minute walk home from the cafe. Marmite, as ever, pestered him for food and a fuss. Jonah did it quickly, wanting to set off for DC as soon as he could. He wouldn’t call ahead to the detectives, though. In case he changed his mind on the way.

  As he was about to leave, an email came through from Annabel.

  I’m sorry, she’d written. Things are busy and my head is a mess.

  That was it, as far as anything personal went. The rest was a summary of bits and pieces of information she’d gathered, a clear attempt to demonstrate that she was making some progress. Encouragingly, her fears that Andreas Biotech was ramping up revival work seemed to have been misplaced, the money being spent instead on cryogenics. Attached to the email were scans of some documents she’d managed to get hold of relating to an Andreas Biotech site in Nevada.

  Hearing from her at all was positive, he hoped. Still. It had been almost two weeks without a word, and all she could say was Things are busy and my head is a mess.

  Join the club, thought Jonah.

  *

  The drive to Washington DC gave him plenty of time to think, but when he parked in the Third District lot he wasn’t much closer to knowing how he felt.

  Bob and Ray were pleased to see him, though. ‘Can’t tell you how much this means to me,’ said Bob, rising from his seat as Jonah walked over. His desk was overloaded with junk, his monitor half hidden in Post-its; Ray was sitting behind the adjacent desk, which was pristine.

  ‘OK, but don’t get your hopes up,’ said Jonah. ‘I’m here to listen to your eyewitness, that’s all.’

  ‘I’ve already set up a meeting,’ said Bob. ‘Well, I know his delivery schedule for the rest of the day. Same thing. We can go now, if you like. You want to tag along, Ray?’

  ‘You go ahead,’ said Ray. ‘I’m processing paperwork for some witnesses from the party.’

  ‘OK. Jonah, follow me.’ Bob grabbed a coat and led the way to his own car. Once they were both in, he checked his watch. ‘The guy in question is called Eugene Harding,’ he said. ‘Forty-eight. Works at a food wholesaler’s, delivers to restaurants and takeaways across the city. With luck he’ll be at the wholesaler’s now.’ Bob started the engine and talked as he drove. ‘Eugene found Mary’s body. When I spoke to him, the first thing he said made my blood go cold, but he immediately retracted it. Said I’d misheard him, became a little evasive. We had two things to rule out: first, that Mary had been dragged by his vehicle and second, that he had potentially dumped the body and pretended to find it. Eugene’s delivery truck was impounded for examination and nothing came up, and CCTV within the restaurant he was delivering to gave him a solid alibi. After completing the delivery he ate a meal there. He was inside for forty minutes.’

  ‘What was it he said, Bob? What was it that gave you the creeps?’

  Bob looked like he was considering it, but he shook his head. ‘Let me try and get him to tell you. He’s not exactly the brightest guy in the world, but he comes across as observant and honest. And very wary. In his version of events he heard a scream and went up the alley, where he found Mary’s body.’

  ‘He heard her scream?’

  ‘Swears to it. And I guarantee there’s something he wasn’t telling us.’

  *

  ‘That’s him.’

  Jonah looked. Bob had parked up at the rear of a wholesale food warehouse in the east of the city. A battered pickup was parked by the open shutters, and a large man was hauling plastic sacks and putting them in the back of the vehicle.

  Jonah looked at Eugene Harding. He seemed older than his years, overweight and wearing a constant expression of earnest effort. Bob got out of the car and Jonah followed.

  ‘Afternoon, Eugene,’ called Bob.

  Eugene glanced up, his face sweaty in the cold air. His expression became instantly nervy the moment he laid eyes on Bob. ‘Detective,’ he replied, then went for another sack.

  ‘What’s that you have there?’ asked Bob.

  ‘Oh, deliveries. Rice. Stuff.’ He put the sack in place and stood by the vehicle, wheezing a little, with his work-gloved hands on his hips. ‘How can I help you?’ He tried to smile. It made him look even less comfortable.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you again about the night you found Mary Connart’s body.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Eugene, sweating even more now.

  ‘This man is a reviver,’ said Bob, nodding to Jonah. Jonah saw Eugene’s wary expression intensify the instant his eyes reached Jonah’s face. The man was full-blown scared now. ‘With luck, he’ll be talking to Mary soon. He can ask her what happened.’

  Eugene’s eyes darted back and forth between Bob and Jonah. He said nothing.

  ‘So,’ said Bob, ‘was there anything else you wanted to tell us? About what you saw?’

  ‘I . . . I only saw what I told you I saw.’

  ‘So tell us again. Make sure we got it right.’

  ‘OK, OK.’ Eugene looked down at the ground and took a moment before he started. ‘Well, I’d been making a late delivery.’

  ‘Wasn’t it unusually late, Eugene? This was almost ten in the evening.’

  ‘No. See, we close later some evenings, and I always get something at Chu’s place when we do. Sometimes I drop stuff off for him on the way, if it saves the trip in the morning.’

  ‘So you were getting some late dinner.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You remember what?’


  Eugene looked a little confused. ‘Why? Look, we’ve been over all this.’

  ‘Like I said, I just want to make sure we got it right. What’d you eat?’

  ‘Yellow bean chicken, like always.’

  ‘Then you were about to head home,’ said Bob. ‘Is the pickup yours?’

  ‘No, but they let me use it sometimes. They were none too happy about losing it for a week.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that, Eugene. We had to do that, just to rule it out.’ Bob smiled. ‘So you were parked at the rear of the restaurant.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you offloaded your goods, got your food, got back in. This was at ten-thirty. The pickup was facing out into the alley across the street.’

  ‘Yes.’ Eugene looked scared again.

  ‘You notice the darkness? That the light in the alley had burned out?’

  ‘Not until I heard the scream and turned my headlights on. And . . .’ Eugene looked at the ground, kept his eyes there. ‘Everything was dark.’

  ‘Eugene, what aren’t you telling me?’ The man didn’t look up. ‘Eugene?’

  ‘I told you everything.’ Eugene’s voice was shaky, eyes still on the ground.

  ‘See,’ Bob said to Jonah. ‘When we spoke to Eugene before, this is how he was. He told us how he heard a scream, went to see what had happened, called for help. You were crying a little, Eugene. Remember? I thought you were scared because someone might think you were involved. But you’re smarter than that. I guess I didn’t really appreciate it then. I was happy to think you were just scared of getting the blame for something you didn’t do. And you let me think it.’

  Eugene Harding looked up, fear in his face, mixed with a little shame, and maybe a little pride. He nodded.

  ‘There’s more, isn’t there?’ said Bob. ‘You started to tell me. Why did you stop?’

  ‘Nobody would believe me,’ said Eugene. ‘They’d wonder why I was making up a crazy story, and they’d only think one thing. That I was hiding something. That I did it.’

  ‘So tell me the truth,’ said Bob. ‘This is your last chance to tell us, you understand? We need to know.’

  At last, Eugene gave a nod. ‘But I ain’t saying anything on the record. If anyone asks me I’ll deny it.’

  ‘So tell him,’ said Bob, nodding to Jonah. ‘Off the record. Start with the first thing you said to me, the thing you claimed I’d misheard. Or have you forgotten what it was?’

  Eugene shook his head and slowly turned to Jonah. ‘It looked at me,’ he said, his eyes wide and desperate. ‘It looked at me.’

  14

  ‘I saw her fall,’ said Eugene. ‘When the light from my pickup hit her, I saw her fall.’

  Bob looked at Jonah, then back at Eugene. ‘There was someone else in the alley?’

  Eugene shook his head. ‘Not some one. Some thing.’

  ‘What?’ said Jonah. ‘What did you see?’

  ‘The dark,’ said Eugene. ‘The dark was holding her. Standing there. A shape. Just dark. Huge, and hunched over. It seemed to look up as the light hit it, look up at me. I couldn’t see its eyes, but I could feel the gaze burning deep into me. And then it was gone. Just gone, like it had never been there. And she fell to the ground. I got out of the pickup and ran to help, then I stopped.’ He looked at Jonah, eyes round with fear. ‘I stopped because I could still feel it. I couldn’t see it, but it was still there. Every part of me was colder than I’d ever felt in my life. A few seconds later, I could feel it go.’

  Jonah suddenly realized how cold he felt himself, right now. ‘How did you know it had gone?’ His own voice had the sound of desperation in it.

  Eugene shook his head. ‘I don’t know how, but if I hadn’t been sure, believe me, I wouldn’t have been able to go down that alley. And then when I did, and I saw what it had done to her . . . I don’t ever want to stand there again. Not even in daylight.’ He stopped, folded his arms around himself and rubbed. ‘I need to warm up and get back to work. Are we done?’

  ‘You swear that’s everything you saw?’ said Bob.

  Eugene nodded.

  ‘Then we’re done. You can go.’

  As Eugene started to turn away, Jonah spoke. ‘You’re a brave man, Eugene. Walking down that alley after seeing what you saw. I don’t think I’d have the guts.’

  Eugene said nothing for a moment, looking at Jonah with something close to bitterness. ‘And what good did it do me? I can’t stop seeing her. It’ll be with me my whole goddamn life. If I’d known better, I would’ve stayed where the hell I was.’ He paused, then met Jonah’s gaze with sudden intensity. ‘Not a word I should say, not now. Hell. Was that what it was? Was that where it came from?’

  Jonah couldn’t answer.

  *

  The winter sun was already setting by the time they reached the alley where Mary Connart had died. The air was cold, and the alley seemed desolate.

  ‘That’s the light,’ said Bob, pointing high up on one wall.

  ‘What had happened to it?’ said Jonah.

  Bob shrugged. ‘The bulb had just blown, Jonah, nothing more.’

  They walked down slowly until Bob showed him where Mary’s body had been found. There were no marks, no dark stains.

  They stood there, silent, Jonah trying to make the decision that Bob needed from him. He closed his eyes, picturing a dark, hulking shape behind him, as Eugene had described. A cold breeze blew through the alley. He suddenly wanted to get home, wanted nothing more to do with it.

  Bob drove them back to the station. ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  Bob shook his head. ‘Damned if I know. Devils are a little outside my jurisdiction. You really think Eugene could have seen what he said he did?’

  ‘I hope not,’ said Jonah.

  ‘Let me know your decision by tomorrow,’ said Bob. ‘If you agree, we’d be able to go ahead within forty-eight hours.’

  ‘If I do it, you understand it’ll be non-vocal, given how long she’s been dead?’

  ‘I understand,’ said Bob.

  ‘I’ll let you know in the morning,’ said Jonah. ‘Say goodbye to Ray for me.’ He went to his car and was home by eight, Marmite keen for attention. To distract himself, he looked through the documents Annabel had sent him, about Winnerden Flats and the cryogenics push Andreas Biotech was going to make.

  While he read, he felt a sense of dread creep up on him. He’d clung to the hope that Andreas’s death had been the end of it, that the darkness within him had perished utterly, but as he’d stood listening to Eugene Harding he’d found himself questioning that hope.

  It all seemed so unfair. Annabel had been the one to worry about the things they’d experienced with Andreas being somehow unfinished, and now that her fears had subsided his own had grown.

  When he went to bed, sleep didn’t come easily. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the pictures Bob had shown them, Mary Connart with her arm gone and the side of her head devastated. He thought of Eugene’s insistence that he’d heard her scream, and knew the implication: that she’d been conscious as it had happened.

  And when he did finally sleep, it was shattered by a dream that brought back an image he’d seen at Reese-Farthing. The image had filled his mind when he confronted Michael Andreas – or the creature within Andreas – in the burning building. Andreas had put his hands around Jonah’s throat, and as Jonah felt his consciousness failing he’d experienced a vision he instinctively knew was from the creature’s past.

  A huge beast, dark and winged, striding towards a vast city, destroying all before it. Its great black claws reached down, charring everything they touched.

  And then the dream changed, and he was in the alley with Mary, watching as the same claws burned through the woman’s flesh.

  Jonah woke with a cry; sweating, pulse racing. He sat up and knew the decision had been made.

  If he wanted to know what had happened to Mary Connart, there wa
s only one way.

  He would have to ask her.

  15

  Jonah called Bob in the morning to tell him his decision. Within an hour Bob had called back to let him know things were underway, and that if all went well, the revival would happen in two days’ time. Then he rang Never to tell him the news.

  ‘I’ve kept my plate pretty clear,’ Never said. ‘I can take it as vacation.’

  ‘You’re not coming,’ said Jonah. ‘There’s no point you getting into hot water. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ said Never, giving up far more easily than Jonah had expected.

  *

  On the morning of the revival, Jonah’s phone rang. ‘We’re good to go,’ said Bob. ‘We expect the body to be released within two hours.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  As a post mortem was still going to be performed, the revival had to take place under more controlled conditions than a typical private revival would require; that meant a low-temperature room similar to the revival suites back at the FRS. Bob had given Jonah the address of a private revival firm in Sterling, north of Dulles Airport, which was fully equipped to handle it.

  When he got there, Bob and Ray hadn’t arrived, but there was one car outside that Jonah recognized. He walked over and the driver wound down his window and grinned. ‘Morning,’ said Never.

  It explained why it had been so easy to get him to agree not to come. ‘You don’t need to be here,’ said Jonah. ‘I have my own camera and a tripod, it’ll be enough.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Never. ‘And maybe Bob can film it on his phone, too. I’m here now. And if a world of shit descends afterwards, I can just say I recorded everything to make sure you bastards didn’t get away with it.’

  Jonah looked in the back and noted the boxes of equipment in the car. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘There’s no way we can use FRS kit for this.’

  ‘It’s not FRS stuff. Not quite. The cameras are being trialled, the laptop’s my own. I nicked a keypad and some cables, I’ll give you that.’ Never grinned again. ‘Now hop in.’

 

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