The Case of the Hidden Daemon

by Lucy Banks

  “And that’s an anagram of the lyric ‘mastering drama’, is it?” she said breathlessly, looking around at the others.

  Kester nodded.

  “In which case,” Miss Wellbeloved concluded, “this is even more dangerous a situation than we could have imagined. We need to let your father know.”

  “Know what?” Pamela, Mike, and Serena called in unison.

  The office door slammed open again, and Ribero’s head poked out like an inquisitive tortoise. “Yes, know what? I heard my name mentioned.”

  “Kester, you tell them,” Miss Wellbeloved ordered.

  Kester gulped. “There’s a worrying anagram in this Billy Dagger song. It says ‘I am Grand Master’.”

  Mike whistled. Even Serena looked frightened.

  “I take it that’s a very bad thing?” Kester said finally, interrupting the silence.

  Ribero rubbed his moustache. His complexion had taken on a vaguely ashen colour. “Yes,” he replied simply as he clutched the door frame for support. “Yes, it is a very bad thing, indeed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it means a daemon is in charge of one of the most powerful organisations in the world. And there’s no telling just how much more powerful it’ll be if it is led by him.”

  Chapter 12: Suspicions

  “That sounds absolutely preposterous,” Larry Higgins barked, leaning over the meeting room table. The rest of his team, and indeed everyone in attendance, looked mildly irritated—hardly surprising, given that most of them had been stuck on a train for hours to get there.

  Kester stifled a yawn. After their discovery about Hrschni, they’d immediately contacted Curtis Philpot, who’d called an emergency meeting at Infinite Enterprises headquarters in London. One long train journey later, here they were, all yawning, grumpy, and longing to get back home again.

  Curtis Philpot dabbed his nostrils delicately with a handkerchief, then he looked at Larry down the length of his sizeable nose. “I fail to see which part you regard as preposterous, Larry,” he replied, in a dangerously smooth voice.

  Larry gestured wildly at Dimitri and Luke, who shrank back into their seats with embarrassment. “I mean all of it,” he explained, casting a look of pure venom in Kester’s direction. “You can’t read anything into song lyrics, surely!”

  “Why on earth not?” Philpot’s eyes narrowed. “It’s clear that Hrschni deliberately hid those clues in his song.”

  Larry clucked with exasperation. “But why would he reveal his identity as Grand Master? That makes absolutely no sense. The whole thing is quite ridiculous.”

  Ribero smirked, stroking his moustache as though petting a much-loved cat. “Well, perhaps you can tell Lord Bernard Nutcombe about how silly you think it is, yes?”

  “Well suggested, Julio. I could pass your opinion on to the Minister for the Supernatural, Larry,” Philpot rubbed his hands together with Machiavellian satisfaction. Although the room was heated, the cold of the day somehow seemed to permeate the windows, easing into the room and chilling them to the core. Larry slumped back into his seat and delivered them all a glare of magnificent proportions.

  Ian Kingdom-Green coughed, interrupting the silence. “I believe,” he said quietly, “that the question we need to ask is—why? Why did Hrschni use his song to tell us he is Grand Master? Why inform us of his intentions?”

  “I asked that exact same question yesterday,” Mike said, glaring out of the window at the busy street below.

  “And it is a pertinent one, my friend,” Ian stated, patting Mike’s arm, which made him wriggle crossly on his chair. “Is Hrschni using his songs to communicate with other spirits, perhaps?”

  Dimitri held up his hand, stern as a judge. “Would other spirits be able to decipher these lyrics? Not many are as intellectual as daemons. It does not seem plausible.”

  “Maybe he’s just targeting other daemons,” Cardigan suggested. “Reaching out to gain support from his own kind?”

  Kester shook his head. “It seems like an odd way to go about it. I mean, couldn’t he just visit the other daemons in person and gather their support that way instead?”

  They all pondered hard, leaving the room in cold, abrasive silence.

  “Alright then,” Luke piped up as he pressed a finger on the meeting room table. “If this Hrschni ain’t reaching out to other daemons, who is he trying to impress with these lyrics?”

  “Is he trying to send a message to us, perhaps?” Kester suggested.

  Larry bashed a fist on the table. “By joining the Thelemites, breaking into Infinite Enterprises and engaging in illegal activities, Hrschni has established himself as our enemy. Why would he then try to assist us by leaving clues in his songs, eh? What a bloody ridiculous suggestion.”

  “Positive as ever, Larry,” Miss Wellbeloved chastised. “Kester may well be right. Perhaps Hrschni is toying with us.”

  “Oh, sod off, I don’t believe that for one second,” Larry scoffed. “I think we’re all just going around and around in circles, when we need to take decisive action.”

  “And what would you do, Larry?” Philpot said, fingers drumming on the desk. “We’d welcome all suggestions. Please. You have my undivided attention.”

  Larry’s mouth opened, then closed again like a large, disgruntled fish. “Well, I’d have to think about it for a while,” he said slowly, “but I’m sure that—”

  “—Well, once you’ve thought of something, feel free to let us know,” Philpot concluded. Several people around the table attempted to conceal a smirk. Larry looked about to erupt, but wisely chose to remain silent.

  “So,” Philpot continued. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we? I’ve put together a quick visual presentation, to ensure we’re all on the same page.” Without waiting for a response, he clicked a button on his laptop, firing the screen behind him into action.

  “Here’s what we know so far,” he began. “There are at least two daemons involved. Hrschni is now believed to be Grand Master of the Thelemites, which is unprecedented. Never in their history have the Thelemites had a non-human leader.”

  “What do we know about Fylgja?” Luke asked, squinting at the screen. “Has she got any previous history with Hrschni?”

  “That’s a good question,” Philpot said with an approving nod. “Let me move on to the next screen; we’ve got a more comprehensive profile on both.” He clicked his mouse again. “Fylgja. We’ve got a long list of known previous inhabitations on file. This daemon has a strong preference for inhabiting females, and in particular, aims for clever, cunning women. Attractive as well, usually.”

  “Told you she’s vain,” Kester whispered to Miss Wellbeloved. “This daemon obviously likes to look good.”

  “As far as we know,” Philpot continued, “there has only been one recorded occasion where Hrschni and Fylgja’s path might have crossed, and that was during the second world war. Both were fighting in support of the Allies. Fylgja had inhabited the body of a famous code-breaker and was doing invaluable work. At the same time, Hrschni was in the body of a renowned fighter pilot. It’s entirely possible they would have met at some point, though we can’t say for sure.”

  “Fylgja went missing directly after the war, didn’t she?” Kester asked.

  Philpot nodded. “Someone’s been doing their homework. Well done.”

  “Seems like a big coincidence,” Serena said.

  “Didn’t take the brains of Britain to work that one out,” Mike growled. Serena rewarded him with one of her most poisonous glares.

  “So, that’s when Hrschni might have convinced her to join the Thelemites?” Miss Wellbeloved speculated.

  Philpot shrugged. “Who knows? We’ll probably never know for sure. But it’s possible.”

  “Why did Hrschi continue inhabiting humans, then?” Larry barked. “Why didn’t he disappear at the same ti
me as Fylgja?”

  “Perhaps it was in his best interests to act innocently,” Philpot replied. “Again, we don’t know.” He returned to his presentation. “We now know that Hrschni is inhabiting another human, thanks to Lili Asadi’s excellent observational work in Whitby.”

  “That’s right, he’s inhabiting a woman,” Luke piped up. Philpot nodded.

  “But why?” Kester asked.

  “I suspect it’s to avoid detection.” Dimitri scowled out of the window, his frustration palpable.

  “How does that work, then?”

  Dimitri took a deep breath. “When a daemon enters a human, their spirit energy is muffled. That means we cannot detect them nearly as easily. It is basic stuff, you see? Have you not yet learnt this?”

  Kester reddened. “Not yet, no,” he replied stiffly, trying to ignore Larry’s gleeful expression.

  Philpot rapped on the table. “Gentlemen, please. Let’s continue. I believe that we need to get in touch with all known daemons on record, check that we’re not facing some sort of daemon army here.”

  “I hardly think they’d behave like that,” Miss Wellbeloved said, nervously tugging at a stray strand of hair. “We know that daemons are a highly respected species of spirit.”

  “And yet, two of them are now mysteriously involved with an organisation that’s trying to destroy the world as we know it,” Larry retorted, folding his hands over the top of his belly. “Come on, Jennifer. It’s time you dropped this naïve attitude towards spirits. Or are your loyalties torn, perhaps?”

  “What on earth do you mean by that?” Miss Wellbeloved bristled.

  “I mean, your whole family was deeply involved with the Thelemite organisation. I only hope your previous involvement isn’t affecting your better judgement.”

  Miss Wellbeloved blushed. Ribero hastily stroked her arm as though calming a skittish horse.

  Philpot coughed politely. “No offence, Jennifer, but that was something I was rather concerned about too. I think you need to appreciate that the Thelemites have changed, and not for the better.”

  “My loyalties are not divided,” Miss Wellbeloved muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m merely protesting about the language you use when talking about spirits. They’re our equals, not our inferiors.”

  When it comes to intelligence, Hrschni is clearly superior to any of us, Kester thought with a slight smile. He respected Miss Wellbeloved’s dedication to the spirit cause, but suspected she was fighting a losing battle. From what he could tell, most people simply weren’t that keen on spirits, and wanted to keep them as under control as humanly possible.

  Philpot sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Infinite Enterprises will be getting in touch with all registered daemons,” he continued, nodding deliberately in Miss Wellbeloved’s direction. “Larry, I’d like your team to work with our observations crew. Start talking to other agencies across the country, check that no other spirits have joined Hrschni. We need to know what we’re up against here.”

  “Agreed,” Larry said with a sanctimonious smile in Luke and Dimitri’s direction.

  Philpot turned to Kester. “You made such a good start with this song lyric; I think you should start exploring the rest of his music. It would be interesting to find out just how long he’s been leaving us clues.”

  “Do you want all of us to work on that?” Serena asked with an impatient click of the tongue. “Not being funny, but it’s a bit of a one-person job. Two, at most.”

  “I’d like someone to get in contact with Whilshin & Sons. Their company was the last one to keep tabs on Fylgja’s whereabouts. They may have more information in their files. We need to know everything about her, if we’re going to track her down.”

  “Got it,” Serena said with obvious satisfaction. At least I won’t have her breathing down my neck while I’m browsing through Billy Dagger’s back catalogue, Kester thought with relief. Working with Serena was usually stressful, to say the least.

  “The rest of you, keep a close eye on the Exeter Thelemite lodge,” Philpot concluded. “We know Barty Melville’s heavily involved, and we need to learn more about what he’s up to. Has everyone got it? I’ll send out a more detailed brief later on.”

  There was a murmur of agreement. Kester sighed. He’d thought the last case with the fetch was complex enough, but this business with Hrschni made it seem a doddle by comparison.

  Philpot nodded, stood up, and stuffed his laptop into his briefcase. “On that note, I’m off to report to Lord Nutcombe,” he announced. “He wants an urgent update of the situation. Do your best, everyone. This case is getting more worrying by the day.”

  “The worst thing is, we don’t know what the heck they’re planning to do,” Luke said, stretching with a yawn. “It’d help if we could just figure out what their game-plan was.”

  An abrupt screech drew all eyes to the left of the room. Serena was flapping around wildly in the air, and for a moment, Kester wondered if a wasp had managed to get into the room. Then he noticed the familiar little, brown, smudgy blob above her head, which was flitting through the air like smoke in a breeze.

  “Is that incubus still bothering you?” He watched with fascination as the tiny creature whirled to and fro, skilfully avoiding Serena’s manic swipes.

  “What does it bloody look like?” Serena squealed again as the spirit nestled on top of her head. Kester squinted. It looks a bit like he’s stroking her hair, he thought, feeling a bubble of laughter rise in his throat.

  Serena caught his expression and glared. “This isn’t even slightly funny,” she barked as she slammed a hand down on her scalp. The spirit disappeared with a quiet pop, and Serena winced at the force of her own palm.

  Mike sniggered. “You poor old thing. Still, at least someone loves you.”

  Philpot shook his head with a mixture of disapproval and disbelief. “Surely you can manage to deal with a little spirit like that, can’t you?”

  “Yes,” Larry added, peering over Philpot’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t even need a full-sized water bottle for that incubus. You could probably get away with using an empty travel-sized shampoo container or something.”

  “If it was that easy,” Serena snapped, “I would have done it already. Now, can we just leave? If everyone’s finished having a good gawp at my head, that is?”

  Mike pulled her in for a brief hug. “You have to admit,” he said, “it is a little bit funny.”

  Serena smoothed down her bob mutinously. “I really don’t see that there’s anything amusing about it at all,” she muttered as they went out into the corridor. “You try having a spirit wake you up in the night and going all moony over you. It’s revolting.”

  Kester smiled sympathetically. “Ah, it’s not really that bad, is it? I mean, it’s sad, really. The poor little incubus is probably lonely and love-sick.”

  “Don’t you start.” Her withering expression could have wilted fresh flowers in a heartbeat.

  They returned to the polished reception hall, then stepped reluctantly out into the cold, noisy street. A double-decker bus ploughed past them, sending a shower of dirty puddle-water in their direction.

  “Gosh, I hate London,” Pamela said cheerfully, scuttling ahead.

  Kester hung back with Serena, who was still patting her head nervously. “So,” he began, hoping she’d calmed down a little. “What were your suspicions, then? When you visited my house that night with the chocolates? You never did get around to telling me.”

  Serena frowned. They deftly dodged past a group of tourists, excitedly snapping photos of a red post-box, then continued down the road towards the station. “It’s probably best if we leave it,” she said finally, nibbling her fingernail. “I acted rashly that night when I came to your house. I shouldn’t have said anything at all, really.”

  Kester poked her arm. “No way. You’re not leaving it like that. Tell
me. What have you got your suspicions about?”

  She tugged up her jacket collar, concealing her mouth from view. From behind the beige cashmere, he thought he detected the word “Anya,” and something about trust.

  “Say that again?”

  “I said, I’m concerned that Anya might not be trustworthy.”

  He pulled up short and stared at her with amazement, ignoring the throngs of people scuttling around them. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Serena winced, then grabbed him by the arm, hauling him across the road. “See? I knew you wouldn’t like it. I don’t know why I even bothered to say anything.”

  Kester removed her hand from his elbow, oblivious to the taxi beside them that was currently honking angrily at them to move out of the way. “Why on earth would you think she’s not trustworthy? You’ve got no evidence whatsoever to back that up, and—”

  “—Isn’t it a bit weird, though? I mean, the Thelemites kidnapped her, then just let her go. It doesn’t add up.”

  Kester took a deep breath and fought back the urge to say something extremely rude. “Look,” he replied finally, “I know you’re only trying to be protective, but you can trust Anya one hundred percent. Honestly.”

  Serena rolled her eyes. “Just because she’s sleeping with you doesn’t mean she can be trusted, Kester.”

  He thought back to the first time he’d met Anya in the library—her wide smile, her natural friendliness. Anger flared in the pit of his stomach. How dare she say stuff like this?

  “Serena,” he replied in a low voice. “I’m going to let your comments go this time, because I know you’re only looking out for me. But—”

  “—Actually, I’m not looking out for you at all, I’m looking out for the safety of the agency. And the world, in fact.”

  Kester gritted his teeth and pushed his train ticket into the barrier. “Whatever your reason is,” he called over his shoulder, “I won’t let you say that a second time. End of discussion.”