Shadows At Starlight
The Soul Seekers : Book Five
Alice J. Black
Contents
Shadows At Starlight
About the Author
A Request from Peyton
Also by Alice J. Black
The Parliament House
Shadows At Starlight
I dusted my hands together as I took a seat behind the desk. The chair squeaked slightly, but it was nowhere near as dangerous as my own. By now, I might’ve been pitched forward and almost fell twice.
The monitor eventually flared to life, showing the load-up screen, which I knew would take a long time to follow through.
“You’re not seriously going to try typing on that, are you?” Olivia asked.
I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of her standing with her arms crossed over her chest.
“It’s not that old.”
“I wasn’t talking about the computer. You’re not exactly technology friendly, Peyton.”
“Hey! I’m fine. I manage our ghost hunting equipment no problem. And besides, I need to get this report typed up.”
“Leave it to me.” Olivia hustled me out of the chair and dropped into it.
At the same time, the computer finally came through, and the desktop screen appeared. She shuffled slightly into her groove and took the mouse in her right hand. I couldn’t help but smile. That chair was well and truly claimed.
“And what am I supposed to do?” I stood in the meagre office we shared, hands on hips, hoping she’d turn and see my annoyance, but she simply stared at the screen, navigating with dexterity. And although I would never admit it to her, I was relieved that she had taken over. I could do the basics, but Olivia was a genius when it came to computers, and she always managed to coax our old model to do what she wanted. “You could make yourself useful and make a brew.”
My jaw dropped. After all that talk about job titles, she was thrusting me into the role of office run-around.
“Oh,” she continued, “and then you can read your next case briefing.”
She held up a sheet of paper, without turning around, and as it wafted in the air, I snatched it from her and gave it a once over.
“What next case?”
“Read it and find out.”
We’d only just finished a case two weeks ago; ridding Eileen’s home of her former alcoholic husband when he refused to accept the fact that he was dead. That was a lesson learnt in family dynamics, too.
And to think I’d been worried we wouldn’t get anything and the business would die out, leaving me and Olivia in a precarious financial situation. Now, we had a second case. Way to go Soul Seekers.
I flicked the kettle on, set out the cups, and leaned back against the bench, bringing the paper close.
To whom it may concern.
“They sent a letter?” My lip twitched.
“Apparently so. Maybe the guy doesn’t like phones.”
“But a letter?”
“Once we’ve completed another case, we should have enough to get the internet installed, and then people will be able to contact us via a website. Or email.”
I nodded. “Much better.” Then my attention went back to the single sheet of paper.
I looked for an email address for quicker contact and couldn’t find one. I hope this letter finds you quickly. I would like someone to come out and take a look at my cinema, the Starlight. I’ve had some trouble recently which has left me with a lack of patronage, and I fear that my establishment might close if you don’t help.
Yours,
Roman Spearman.
“Well, what do you think?” Olivia asked as I set the sheet down on the counter.
“There’s not a lot of information.” I poured water into both cups, gave them a cursory stir, and handed the blue cup to Olivia. “And he sounds pompous.”
“I agree. My first thought was that there wasn’t much information,” Olivia began, “and it got me thinking.”
“Thought I could smell burning.” I grinned.
“I’ve created an initial contact client form.” She held up a second piece of paper.
I took it from her and peered down at it. This one was a little thicker, two sheets of paper stapled together at the top with a whole load of empty boxes to fill in.
“It has room for all the basic initial information. Contact, start of haunting, type of building, business or personal. That sort of thing.”
“Wow. You’ve been busy.”
“Then at the bottom you can record the details of the haunting.”
“I have to say, I’m impressed. It’ll make things so much easier than all those bits and pieces of paper I had.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” She nodded. “I’m creating files for all our cases, paper and electronic. It’ll mean you always have access to the info you need. We’ll store it on the computer, and one day I’ll show you how to access it.”
“Stop being patronising. I can use a computer.”
“And we can either use the kit room or get a filing cabinet for the paper files.”
“Did I ever tell you that I’m glad Stubbs and Oakley let you go so that you could come and work for a just-above-the-breadline organisation?”
She pressed her lips together, and then the corner lifted. “Yeah, yeah. Enough with the arse licking. It’s time to get busy, because if we want Soul Seekers to move above the breadline, we’re going to have to be proactive.”
“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands as I finally succumbed to my seat, taking care to stay as rigid as possible while holding onto hope that it didn’t buck me like a bronco.
I pulled the phone towards me and cast my eyes back across the letter Roman Spearman had sent. He might not have liked the idea of having to call, but he’d typed a number, and that meant I had a quick means of talking to him.
I dialled the number and pressed the phone to my ear. It was answered almost immediately.
“Good morning. Starlight Cinema, how can I help?” The voice was female and decidedly bored.
“Could I speak to Roman Spearman, please?”
“Who’s calling?”
“Peyton from Soul Seekers.”
“What’s that?”
“A ghost hunting business.”
For a second, the line went quiet. Then, “Is this supposed to be a joke?”
“No joke. Got a letter from the man himself. So if you could just—”
“Listen, lady,” her tone was filled with amusement, and I could almost see her rolling her eyes. “We’ve got enough going on without someone adding to the bullshit. Go and bother someone else.” The phone went dead.
“Well she was lovely.” I sighed as I set the phone down. “I’ll just have to try again and hope that someone else answers.”
“Oh, aren’t we feeling happy this morning?”
“Hey, I’m happy. I just don’t expect to have some sarcastic tween shoving her attitude down my throat and hanging up on me when I’ve been approached for help.”
“Peyton, we run a ghost hunting business. Half the population—more, in fact—are likely to doubt our aims and objectives because not everyone believes ghosts exist.”
“You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t believe ghosts exist. It would make my life significantly easier.”
“Yeah, well, we all have to live with the lot we’ve been given.”
“Easy for you to say.”
The phone shrilled, and I jumped, hand knocking my coffee. The liquid sloshed over the rim and I cursed but a quick survey showed that most of it was still in the cup. I grabbed the phone, motioning for Olivia to clean up my mess, and ignored the sigh of resentment thrown my way as I spoke.
“H
ello, this is Soul Seekers. You’re through to Peyton Blaine.”
“Peyton, it’s Roman Spearman. I understand you just called?”
“I did, yes. I was responding to your letter.”
“I must apologise about Sarah’s rude behaviour. Everything that’s been going on has us all on edge.”
“No problem,” I lied. I’d already decided I didn’t like Sarah, no matter who she was or what was happening.
“So you got my letter?”
“I certainly did. There isn’t a lot of information on it, however, and I was wondering if I can come over with my associate and see the Starlight for myself?”
“Of course. Things have been pretty quiet recently, so just come down whenever you have time and I’ll make myself available.”
“Great. Let me just check the diary.”
I held a palm over the receiver and lifted my cup to take a drink just as Olivia whisked in with a cloth. She wiped the bench, and I set the cup back down.
“I think we can pop in today for a visit. In around an hour.”
“Thank you. See you then.”
I set the phone down.
“You’re learning.” Olivia smiled. “Although, it seems we still have an issue with someone thinking they’re the boss in this place.” Her eyes flicked to my cup and back up.
“Hell, no.” I shook my head. “It’s just, I was on the phone and it would’ve been rude to hang up.”
“Since when do you care about being rude?”
“Since we opened a business. We have to be professional.”
“I’m sure that’s what people who require our services are worried about.”
“Let’s not argue about that now. Finish your coffee. We’re going out.”
“Let me guess. We’re going to catch a film.”
“Or a ghost.” I wiggled my brow.
We pulled up outside the Starlight just over an hour later. Thumper bumped along the kerb, grinding the wheel trims. Olivia shot me daggers as I shut off the engine.
“Sometimes I worry about your driving skills. Maybe you should retake the test. Your skills are just as rusty as Thumper because it’s been so long since you drove.”
“I did pass my test, you know, and I’m perfectly capable.” I took the key from the ignition. “I’m just getting used to it again, that’s all.”
“Well, let me remind you that a kerb isn’t generally for mounting. Okay?”
“Thanks for the tip. Now come on.” I stepped out of the car and stood in the middle of the road for a moment, staring up at the cinema.
It was two stories high and made of the most unappealing grey brick. A huge Starlight Cinema sign adorned the entrance. The diamond-encrusted letters were worn and faded and falling in some places. Beneath the arched sign, the double doors were propped open to invite people inside and just beyond, I saw the staged gloom that every picture house had.
“The place looks deserted,” Olivia commented as I moved to the pavement, beside her, still staring at the dull façade.
“That’s just what I was thinking. That and it isn’t exactly inviting.” I continued to stare.
There was a stain on the wall from water that had dripped from the top of the building, leaving a permanent dirty green stain. A little further along, the roof was sagging, the drainpipe broken and drooping, threatening to spill its contents on some ignorant customer. All in all, the outside of the Starlight Cinema had the feel of a rundown theatre company.
“Shall we go in?” Olivia prompted.
“Yes. Let’s go and meet Roman Spearman.” I took the lead, stepping across the threshold and into the gloom.
Inside, the place wasn’t wearing much better. To my left was a small box office with only one till, the plastic window that surrounded it, in replica of an American theatre, was scratched and worn. Directly ahead of me, I saw a food stand that stretched from wall to wall beneath a huge arch, and behind it, various machines. The top of the stall advertised the normal list of cinema food. Only one of the two screens was lit. The light inside the popcorn machine blinked slowly. There was a hot dog rack with nothing on it, and sauces dripped from the condiment tray, blobs of red sauce and mustard hardened on the counter.
I grimaced. Combined with the outside visage, the Starlight didn’t exactly paint a nice image. Maybe Roman needed to look at the front of house rather than searching for sources of internal misery.
“Hello. You must be Peyton.”
I turned to find the voice and found myself staring at an impossibly tall man. He was beanpole-thin and must’ve been around six-foot-five, though he cowered with a stoop. I guessed he was a man used to hiding from the world.
He offered me a thin, reedy smile and clasped his hands together. He wore a brown jumper, with a green tweed jacket over the top, and corduroy trousers. His brown hair was swept back from his face and combed to perfection. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this barely out-of-university man who couldn’t grow the handlebar moustache I was hoping he’d have.
“Yes. I’m Peyton, and this is Olivia.”
We shook hands, and as he laced his fingers around mine with delicacy, I shuddered. I never trusted a man who couldn’t hold his own in a handshake.
“I’m so glad you could come.”
“Nice little place you got here.” I gestured to the empty foyer. “I’ve never been before.”
“Oh.” That thin smile again, lips stretching impossibly narrow. “The Starlight is well-known amongst the younger crowd.”
Behind me, Olivia spluttered, “Younger?”
“Yes,” he went on, unperturbed.
Clearly, he didn’t know the woman, or he would’ve taken two steps back.
“You see, here at the Starlight, we offer what some may call unprecedented horror. We show nothing from the mainstream cinema line, but instead revel in the grotesque, the macabre.” As he pronounced the last word, his fingers slowly tapped one another as if he was gleeful. “The films we show here invite the watcher to explore the inner reaches of their darkest fantasies.”
“Are we talking snuff films?” Olivia asked, hand pressed against her hip and a stern look on her face. “Because that’s not cool.”
I agreed with my best friend. I was willing to help anyone, but if his guests were freaking out because he was showing real murders on screen, I was about to walk away.
“No. Of course not. A snuff film is tantamount to colluding with the murderer.” He shook his head, jaw dropped, aghast that Olivia would suggest such a thing. “We show the films that others have banned. The ones that make you think about the human race, about its darkest desires and deepest wills.”
“Okay, so we’re talking The Human Centipede?” I asked.
“Exactly.” He offered that thin smile.
I ground my teeth and took a deep breath. This guy was beginning to grate on me.
“We show things that nobody else dares to watch because it’s far too depraved.”
I looked at my surroundings again and nodded. It all fell into place. Why have a shining, gleaming foyer to welcome your watchers if all they were after was a dip into darkness? I had never been to the Starlight before now, and I already knew that following my official involvement, I wouldn’t be back. There’s enough darkness in the world, no need to generate more.
“Okay.” I clapped and brought the conversation to a lighter level. I didn’t want to learn what other films might be shown here. “Now that I know a little more about what you do here, can you tell me what the problem has been?”
Roman glanced around the foyer as if expecting to be overhead by crowds of people. “Let’s speak in my office.” He promptly turned on his heel and strode to the right, arms pumping as if he was on a mission.
I glanced at Olivia, who shrugged.
“I think he’s a little cuckoo.” Olivia twisted her finger at her temple, and we began to follow him to the office.
Suddenly, I was glad Olivia was with me.
“I’m thinking the same thing, but let’s hear him out. We can’t afford to turn down business.”
“You’re right there.”
“I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Olivia frowned. “Relax, Peyton. He’s just a little unhinged.”
Roman stopped at an open doorway and motioned us inside.
I glanced at Olivia. Had he heard what she’d said? I didn’t think so.
His office looked even gloomier than the rest of the cinema, the only light coming from the glare of a computer screen facing the opposite wall. I stepped into the room, making sure Olivia was close behind. I was a ghost hunter and not very well-equipped to deal with strange men.
As my eyes finally adjusted, I saw that the room was tiny, almost cupboard-like. The walls, which I expected to be covered in movie posters, were bare, as was the old pock-marked desk. There were only two seats, one behind the desk, which Roman took unchivalrously, and the other in front.
“Olivia, you sit since you’re taking notes.” I pushed her down onto the chair and heard her grunt in protest.
After flashing a quick smile at Roman, she glared at me from behind her glasses, and I knew I was in for it when I got back to the office. Then, ever the professional, she produced a notepad and pen from her bag, and waited poised, ready to take details.
“Okay, Roman, could you fill us in, please?” I asked.
We were quite the team, me and Olivia.
“Certainly.” He held his hands on the desk, fingertips pressed together. His face was lit with the glare from the screen just off to his right, and I wondered if he was doing this for effect. “As you can imagine, the Starlight has seen its fair share of depraved films. The audiences love it and they come back for more. It’s what we’re famous for. But more recently, things have changed.”
“Do you know what might’ve caused this change?” I prompted.
“Absolutely. A film.”
“A film?” Olivia repeated, hand hovering over the clipboard.
“Yes.” He nodded, mouth cut in a grim line. “It’s called The Haunting. It’s rumoured to be the captured footage of a ghost hunting team, or more aptly put, a couple in a mansion only thirty miles from here. Of course, as it was local and the only video footage of its kind, I knew at once that I had to have it.”
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