by Sophie Green
According to Minnie, a custard donut and an assortment of iced fancies was delivered to the editor’s office at 11 a.m. every day.
Lil opened the back door of the bakery and snuck in. She picked up a white jacket from the hooks in the hallway and slipped it on. It was extra large, but, rolling up the sleeves as best she could, she took the cap out of the pocket and pulled it low over her eyes. Then she darted through to the delivery bay, found the white paper bag labelled up for Tangiers and stole it.
Across the road, on the other side of the plaza, stood the mighty greystone rectangle of the Tarbell Building, which housed the Herald offices. It looked like it had been woven out of concrete, a crosshatched façade over a multitude of small dark windows. It had been a feature of the city centre for more than fifty years but recently there had been a couple of new additions: a lift shaft – a long tube of toughened glass up the outside of the building; large brass letters, spelling out ‘The Herald’, and behind them a giant metallic fist clutching a rolled-up newspaper. It was easy to miss the words that had been carved into the stone above it, words that someone had tried to sandblast out of existence, but they were still there if you looked closely: words that read ‘The Chronicle’ – Peligan City’s newspaper before it was shut down because its reporters started asking the wrong questions.
As far as Lil knew, this would be the first time a Klaxon reporter had crossed the threshold of the Herald news building since it had opened. This was enemy territory now.
Nedly was waiting by the glass porch, his eyes trained on the door.
‘You look like a melting snowman.’ He grinned at her.
Lil caught sight of her reflection; she had forgotten to take off her rucksack so she had a humpback underneath her white coat. ‘Come on, we’ve only got a few minutes before the real delivery person turns up.’
She stepped smartly into the revolving door, leaving a sweaty handprint on the smoked glass. Nedly hopped into the segment behind. In the lobby a portly security guard was sitting behind the fake marble counter with a copy of the morning’s Herald spread out before her. She had frizzy blonde hair and raised brown-pencilled eyebrows.
Lil stood awkwardly in the middle of the lobby waiting for Nedly to join her. He had missed his moment to step out and had been stranded in his segment. The momentum of the door slowed down and then stopped, trapping him. He gave her a helpless shrug and yelled, ‘I’ll catch you up!’
‘Just pass through the glass,’ Lil muttered through gritted teeth.
The guard heaved her eyes off the page and weighed Lil with them. Lil flashed a trustworthy smile as Nedly started trying to press the door forward inch by inch, and held up the bag, ‘Morning,’ she said brightly. ‘Delivery for –’ she looked at the name on it as if for the first time – ‘Tangiers.’
The guard’s gaze flickered towards the doors that were slowly rotating on their own.
‘I’m from the bakery,’ Lil said, strolling nearer.
The guard dropped her brows flat in a frown. ‘You’re new and you’re early.’
‘First day on the job.’ Lil shoved her long sleeves back up her arms and tipped the peak of her cap. ‘Hoping to make a good impression.’
Nedly was almost free of the doors when someone stepped into another segment and they suddenly revolved at speed, squishing through him as he tried to exit. He reeled out with a queasy ‘Gah!’. Lil grinned fixedly at the guard, who finally buzzed the button on her desk.
Nedly joined Lil with a phew! just as the lift doors opened.
As they rose smoothly above the building line they watched the Golden Loop shrink away beneath them, its kaleidoscope of colours rippling wearily in the mid-morning gloom. Beyond it the grey blocks of downtown Peligan levelled out as they spread towards the river, until the only thing that broke the skyline was the shiny black column of City Hall, the tallest building in town, as it punched up through the concrete like a fist.
Lil shuddered at the sight of it. But Nedly said, ‘I bet the city looks amazing from up there,’ and pointed at its roof, and they both stood hypnotised for a moment until the lift glided to a stop.
Chapter 12
Sam Tangiers
The lift doors opened and Lil and Nedly stepped out into a tiled atrium where a wizened old man was polishing the floor to a treacherous shine.
‘Act natural,’ whispered Lil. Nedly raised his eyebrows in an I’m invisible kind of way and Lil nodded. ‘I know. I’m just nervous.’
She walked briskly towards the glossy black door at the end of the room, her boots squeaking and trailing a fine dusting of flour behind her. At the threshold they exchanged glances and Lil murmured, ‘You wait here, keep an eye on things.’ She knocked briskly.
Nedly opened his eyes extra wide and swivelled them. ‘Trust me, OK, I know what I’m doing.’
‘Come in,’ a voice yelled and Lil pushed the door open.
The room was flashy, carpeted in a thick silvery pile. Sam Tangiers sat behind a chrome and black glass-topped desk in a generous red-leather swivel chair. He wore a bow tie with his pinstripe suit, his hair slicked to one side like a brown satin curtain and a widow’s peak that would have looked good on a vampire. His eyebrows were the same size and shape as his eyes, like two dark smudges on his forehead.
He was signing off a wad of papers with a gold-plated ball-point pen. Lil crossed the room in silence and placed the bag down on the desk next to a large marbled paperweight. The bag had grown stickier and more crumpled-looking on the way over.
Tangiers frowned at it and then glanced up at her. ‘You’re not the usual delivery boy.’
‘No, he’s sick.’
He pulled the bag towards him and peered inside. Lil didn’t move. He looked up. ‘Are you waiting for a tip?’
Lil raised her chin. ‘No. Actually, I have a tip for you and I’m not a delivery boy at all – or a delivery girl.’ She cut him off before he could correct her. ‘I’m a reporter.’ She Squinted at him from under the cap.
He eyed her with distaste. ‘Do you work for me?’
‘No!’ Lil snorted. Tangiers’ hand went wearily to the security buzzer on the underside of his desk. ‘Wait! It’s about the Final Ghost!’
He pressed it anyway. ‘Are you looking for a job?’
‘No!’ Lil hissed through gritted teeth. ‘Not in a million years. I came here to tell you something about the Final Ghost.’
Tangiers sighed. ‘Phone it in to the tip line.’ He went back to signing the papers. ‘We’ve got operators taking down stories night and day.’
‘But I have inside information.’
‘Who doesn’t? Stories about the Final Ghost are ten a penny.’ The telephone lit up. Tangiers pressed the button and picked up the receiver ‘Sports desk? OK – did Peligan City win?’
He frowned down the line. ‘No? Hide it at the back. Anything else? Tiddlywinks? What’s that?’ His face soured while he listened. ‘All right, go with the tiddlywinks. Puff it up with the history of the game and all that, run the other side down. What was the prize? That’s all? Double it.’ He slammed the phone down.
‘Hey! Tangiers,’ Lil tried again.
‘Are you looking for an apprenticeship?’
‘No!’ Lil shouted louder than she meant to.
Tangiers ignored her. ‘Here.’ He opened a drawer and pulled out a picture of himself sitting at the same desk he was sitting at now, holding the pen over a notebook, pretending to have just looked up. He signed it and slid it across to her. ‘There you go – now scram.’
Lil ignored the picture.
Tangiers took the custard donut out of the bag and grimaced at it. It must have been in the bit of the bag that Lil had been holding. It hung limply from his fingers and then dropped to the desktop with a pale yellow plop. He pressed another button on his phone and snapped into it, ‘Get down to Binky’s, have someone fired and fetch me a new donut.’
A squeaky voice replied, ‘Right away, Mr Tangiers.’
; ‘And find out what’s keeping security – I’ve got some kind of obsessive fan here that needs to be shown the door.’ He pressed the receiver button down five or six times impatiently and then, pointedly ignoring Lil, he dialled, cramming an iced fancy into his mouth and chewing while he waited. ‘Weather desk?’ he said with his mouth full. ‘Make it light, a shower at best – people are sick of rain, it’s all we get.’
The phone lit up again, and he pushed the button. ‘Bury it.’ Another button lit.
He shook his head. ‘Run it anyway.’
‘Look –’ Lil began.
Tangiers looked at her like she was a fly he’d found floating in his drink. ‘You’re still here? Security is on their way.’ He flapped the signed photograph at her again.
The phone lit up and this time Lil pushed all the buttons down. ‘I came here to talk to you and I’m not leaving until you listen.’
Tangiers sighed theatrically and looked at his watch. ‘All right, you have my attention for one minute.’ He pulled a chamois cloth out from his desk drawer and began buffing his fingernails with it. ‘What makes you think you should have a job at the Herald?’
Lil balled her hands into fists and squeezed them ’til they shook. Then she took a deep breath. ‘I came here to talk to you about the Final Ghost. You need to know that you’ve got it wrong. About the ghost. All of it.’ Her eyes flickered over to the door and she gulped. ‘There is no Final Ghost. It’s a hoax.’
Tangiers laughed to himself and jabbed at the security button again. ‘If there’s no Final Ghost, then tell me who’s been scaring our sports teams out of winning, terrorising the streets, stalking people at night. Creeping into their bedrooms and hiding in their mirrors, spooking their pets, giving children nightmares, turning milk sour –’
Lil cut him off. ‘No one is doing any of that stuff. You’re just making it up.’
There was a knock at the door. ‘Security,’ a voice said. The knob turned but the door wouldn’t open. ‘Could you unlock the door please, Mr Tangiers?’
‘It’s not locked!’ Tangiers bellowed.
Nedly stuck his head and shoulders through the door. ‘Lil! He called Security!’
Lil tried to nod him away.
‘I slowed them down.’ Nedly extricated himself from the glossy black wood with a squerp. ‘How’s it going?’
The temperature in the office cooled by a couple of degrees and Tangiers darted a look over his shoulder. ‘You want me to drop the best story we’ve ever run because the Final Ghost doesn’t really exist? That’s what you wanted to ask me?’ He smirked at her. ‘Why exactly would I want to do that?’
‘Lil?’ said Nedly.
Lil pointed an accusing finger at Tangiers. ‘You’re frightening people.’
‘People love being scared,’ the editor laughed nastily. ‘They wouldn’t buy the paper if they didn’t.’ A dusting of sugar outlined his mouth and he wiped it away with a Binky’s serviette.
Lil persisted. ‘They think they’re getting the news.’
That made him laugh so much that tears came to his eyes. ‘No they don’t. Not really. The public just loves a good ghost story! Herald sales are up one hundred and fifty per cent since the Final Ghost.’ He tutted to himself. ‘The Final Ghost – whoever came up with that name ought to be fired.’ He pressed the button on his phone and snapped into it, ‘Steve, memo to the staff writers: come up with a scarier name than the Final Ghost. Scariest name gets a prize.’
‘What did you tell him?’ Nedly’s lips were tight and thin.
Lil shook her head firmly, and gave him a look that said, Let me handle this.
Tangiers replaced the handset and said, ‘Now, I admire your moxie, little girl, but I’ve got important work to do so you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got the news to report.’
Lil stuck her heels into the carpet. ‘This isn’t the news.’
He snorted at her. ‘It’s in a newspaper, isn’t it? Are you sure you’re from Binky’s Bagels?’
‘No, I already told you I’m not. If you had bothered to investigate, you would know that the serious crime rate has actually fallen over the last few weeks.’
Tangiers beamed at her. ‘We don’t need to investigate; we get our news straight from the cops. They tell us what happens and we print it.’ He picked up another fancy.
The door rattled as the security guards attempted to force it open.
One called out respectfully. ‘Mr Tangiers, the door still seems to be locked.’
‘I haven’t locked it –’ Tangiers began and then he turned to Lil, his eyes narrowed. ‘What are you playing at?’
‘Nothing to do with me,’ said Lil but when her eyes met Nedly’s she saw they were glowering.
The buzzer on the desk rang, ‘Yes! Hello?’ There was no one there. He put the phone down. It rang again. Tangiers shook it and tapped the receiver. It rang again before he had replaced the handset. He moaned. ‘This thing is broken!’ The lights on the phone started flashing one by one.
Nedly was glaring at him. Tangiers picked up the phone. ‘Can you get an engineer up here? Hello? Hello? It’s dead.’ Lil flicked Nedly a warning glance.
Tangiers had broken out into a cold sweat. ‘Do you feel that?’ he asked Lil. ‘Look, I realise you’re young, you’ve got ideals – well done for that, it’s very sweet. But this is going beyond a joke and you’ve taken up enough of my time.’
Lil could see the sweat beading on his top lip, as he dismissed her with a flick of his wrist and returned to signing the ream of papers, pretending she wasn’t there.
Nedly sat down on the corner of his desk. Tangiers’ signature became shaky so he put down his pen. All the buttons on the phone lit up and he nervously picked up the receiver. A thin, ghostly howl came down the line.
‘Hello?’ he gasped and then blanched and threw the handset away from him. Tangiers staggered to his feet, then collapsed backwards again.
A chair scooted suddenly across the floor and wedged itself under the door handle.
‘What the …?’ Tangiers turned a shade of grey. He looked wildly at Lil. ‘What are you doing?’ He made a grab for her mac but she ducked out of his way.
All the sheets of paper on the desk flew up in turn, and hung in the air above them.
‘Stop this now!’ he snarled fearfully.
A freezing draught prickled all the hairs on Lil’s neck. ‘No,’ she pleaded. ‘Not like this.’
Goose pimples rose on Tangier’s skin and his anger drained away, leaving a fear that was as hollow as a disused well. His breath billowed in a cloud in front of him. ‘Hello?’ he whispered. ‘Is … anybody there?’ His gold pen started spinning on his desk, revolving into a blur.
‘The Final Ghost is real?’ he whispered. His voice had a strangled tone, his eyes quivered bloodshot and his face turned grey.
The marble paperweight started orbiting the gold pen; the smoked-glass desktop cracked.
‘You’re making it worse!’ yelled Lil.
Nedly’s eyes were dark and stormy.
The papers fluttered around the room like birds caught in a cyclone. Lil crawled under the desk and crouched there with her hands over her head, while the spectral wind grew until it raged through the suite, pulling in ornaments from every surface and then propelling them out to hammer against the external glass wall.
‘Please! NEDLY!’ she shouted. ‘Stop! STOP!’
The papers fell to floor. Lil opened her eyes. Tangiers was passed out in his custard donut, and Nedly was gone.
Chapter 13
The Drop
That afternoon Lil and Abe took cover from the rain under the shelter of the bandstand while Margaret followed her nose in figures of eight round the base of a threadbare old shrub. Nedly wandered at a distance, pretending to look for a stick to throw, hands stuffed in his pockets.
The floor of the bandstand was plastered in decaying leaves and rubbish. Lil leant on the railings and looked up at the filigree of wrought-iron that webbe
d the pillars and then turned her Penetrating Squint on the surrounding grass.
‘Why do you think Starkey wants to meet us here, out in the open?’
Abe shrugged. ‘Search me.’
‘I don’t trust him.’ She beckoned Nedly closer. ‘Stick with us. This could be a trap.’
Reluctantly Nedly joined them. ‘Is it too much to hope that someone might actually be on our side for once? Starkey warned us about Ghostcatcher, didn’t he? He told you I was in danger and that’s why you came to find me at the boxing club.’
‘And then Ghostcatcher turned up.’ Lil raised her eyebrows. ‘So, how did he know they were coming? How did he even know you were there?’
‘If he wasn’t on our side, why would he have told us about the delivery?’
Lil gave the end of her pencil a good chew and then spat out some wood. ‘Maybe to lure us.’
‘You’re being paranoid.’
‘And you’re not paranoid enough. Listen, Nedly, the whole of Peligan City is against you – we can’t take any risks, and after this morning …’
‘I know!’ Nedly yelled. ‘I made it worse!’
Lil was taken aback by the outburst, but gave him a one-shouldered shrug. ‘We both did. But it was my fault; it was a stupid idea anyway. I just thought it was worth a shot.’
Nedly glanced sideways at her. ‘I think Starkey is worth a shot.’
‘Fine.’ Lil gave up; she was sick of arguing. ‘But stay close, in case it is a trap, in which case –’
‘In which case, run. I know.’ He rolled his eyes at her but in a jokey way.
A figure in a leaf-green poncho suddenly emerged from a nearby bush, looked left and right and then darted up the steps, slipped on the leaves and fell to the floor at their feet with a yelp.
‘I see we’re keeping a low profile.’ Abe held out his left hand to help Starkey up. Starkey made a grab for the right at the same time and pulled the prosthetic off. It fell amongst the rubbish onto the floor.
‘My gods!’ said Starkey, staring at it. The fingertips were spoon-shaped from when they had melted slightly and the surface was grey with soot. It looked like the hand of a corpse.