Tales of Crow- The Complete series Box Set

by Chris Ward

  Ken shrugged. ‘You get used to it. He’s never been particularly predictable, and he likes his space.’

  ‘It’s like he’s not really there all the time.’

  ‘He never got over Akane.’

  Karin sighed. ‘He needs to find someone and move on.’

  He’s still young. He’s got time on his side, but….’ He trailed off. He was about to say that they didn’t understand the hurt Jun felt, but they did. Jun hadn’t been the only one to lose someone dear in those dark days seven years ago.

  Nozomi had fallen asleep. Ken leaned against the window and looked out at the rolling hills of Transylvania. It was a nice part of the world. He sometimes wondered whether they could move to Europe for good. Nozomi could go to an international school. After all, Karin had a history in Japan that she was keen to forget, and Plastic Black Butterfly was no longer popular. Perhaps Paris, or Berlin. It was worth thinking about.

  ‘Um, Ken, have you seen this?’

  Karin was holding a computer tablet out towards him. I was just looking at the news, and there’s something about a murder.’

  Ken felt a cold, sinking feeling. ‘Where?’

  ‘Heigel. An old woman was found in the forest outside the town. Why’s he going there, Ken?’

  He didn’t need to ask who she meant.

  Whatever Jun was planning to do in Heigel, it had nothing to do with history.

  7

  The man in the tower

  His parents had given him his name because it meant “watchful” or “vigilant” in old Latin, but right now Grigore Albescu felt anything but. He stood by the window, looking down on Heigel far below, and wondered how long it would be before someone came to unlock the door.

  The view from the King’s Tower of Heigel Castle was spectacular. Nearly a hundred metres below, the houses and streets and squares of farmland spread out like a child’s play mat. Beyond the valley to the south, rolling hills of forest stretched away until they were lost from view, while if he craned his neck out of the window that had been left tantalizingly unlocked he could see a ridge of mountains stretching out like the castle’s wings to the east and west.

  He sighed and rubbed his balding head, willing a Rapunzel-like growth of hair to suddenly sprout forth, so that he might fashion a rope and escape. Two weeks he’d been locked up in this room, and he now had more hair on his chin than on his head. He stank, his clothes were crusty with sweat and filth, and he had taken to scraping the gunge off his teeth with his fingernails to pass the time.

  He had never expected to find himself in such a situation. Perhaps even worse than being a prisoner in his own home or the filthy state of his body was that he didn’t have a clue what was going on in the world. He’d never realised how addicted to his work he had been; without his phone and laptop he felt like a shell of a man, slowly wasting away. He was no longer Grigore Albescu, one of the wealthiest men in Romania, he was just a John Doe in waiting.

  Something sharp scraped against the outside of the door. Grigore shivered, goose pimples breaking out on his neck. Why did the bastard always torment him first? It would be the same conversation as always, give me this, do that, blah blah blah. Grigore would refuse, and the man in the hood who never showed his face would go away again. But each time he came, the mental games were worse.

  ‘What do you want, you bastard?’

  The scraping continued, together with what sounded like a watery laugh. Then the overhead lights switched off, making Grigore jump.

  As the lock clicked and the door swung open, Grigore backed away against the far wall as he always did. This had to be the tenth or twelfth time his mysterious kidnapper had visited him, but each time he felt the shivers of an ancient, childhood horror filling his soul like poisoned blood, and more often than not he ended up a shaking wreck, cowering in the corner as his kidnapper laughed and laughed. Years of hard boardroom bargaining had built up a resolve in him that had not yet been broken, but he was close. He was very, very close.

  The spindly cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows of the doorway. Behind him, something else moved, some hideous foot soldier hidden in the gloom. The master stepped forward, into the circle of light cast by the small window. His skeletally thin hands clasped over his stomach, the ends of dirty bandages hanging from the sleeves of his cloak. His head rose, but only enough for Grigore to see the vague outline of a face.

  He didn’t want to see more.

  ‘Good day to you, sire,’ came a rustling voice like damp cardboard flapping in the wind. Grigore slipped to his knees and moaned, his hands cupping his ears, trying to keep the sound out.

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Are you ready to sign, sire?’

  ‘I’ll never sign that accursed thing!’

  ‘You will. In time. I can wait. I have all the time, in the world….’ The man broke into a screeching burst of song that brought tears to Grigore’s eyes. ‘Come on, sire. Here’s a pen. Write your little name, won’t you just? I could fake it of course, but that would be dishonourable, don’t you agree? And Kurou is a man of honour, wouldn’t you believe it so, sire?’

  ‘Go … fuck yourself.’

  Something slapped down on the flagstones right in front of Grigore’s face. Only then did he realise he had both his eyes shut and his face pressed against the floor. He peeked through one eye to see a wad of paper lying on the ground in front of him. Something was looming over it, something like a misshapen beak.

  ‘Sign it, bitch,’ the mysterious man said, and the grotesque, rustling voice came from out of the shape right in front of Grigore’s eyes.

  Grigore screamed and rolled away, pulling his knees up to his chest and clasping his hands behind his head. Something hard poked into his back and he screamed and screamed and screamed even as he heard mocking laughter echoing across the room.

  ‘Just sign it, you useless turd. Quit playing games. I’ll even let you go home. Well, back to your other one, anyway. You can take the window if you wish, or perhaps more preferably, the stairs.’

  ‘Go away!’ Grigore screamed.

  ‘Certainly. But I’ll be back again before you know it. You’ll be waiting with bated breath, won’t you, sire? A penny for your thoughts and all that?’

  Grigore said nothing. He kept his eyes closed as the paper was pulled away from him and footsteps receded back towards the door. He lifted his head and risked a peek, and saw the hooded man standing back in the corridor, an even darker shadow at his shoulder.

  ‘Feed him.’

  A hand lifted and something grey and furry landed on the floor about halfway across the room.

  ‘What is it?’ Grigore croaked.

  ‘A rat,’ his kidnapper said. ‘Caught by a crow, especially for you.’ The door started to swing shut, but the man who called himself Kurou lifted a hand. ‘Oh, Crina, isn’t it? Oh, ho, ho. I bet you’d love to see her again, wouldn’t you?’

  Grigore was on his feet in a moment, running towards the door. ‘I’ll sign, you evil bastard, I’ll sign!’

  His clenched fists hit cold wood, and an echo reverberated up into the high rafters of the tower room. From the other side of the door he heard the same watery laughter as before.

  ‘All in good time, my dear friend. All in good time….’

  8

  The bus meets a roadblock

  ‘Can you all please get on to the bus?’ Jennie called, waving the circling herd of tourists forward. The first stop at an ancient burial mound a few miles outside of Heigel had so far been a success. Next was lunch at a pre-planned restaurant followed by some shopping in a tourist village nearby. So far, even Naotoshi had been quiet, but soon she would have to tell them that tomorrow’s planned trip to the castle was cancelled.

  She had done her best. She had called the tour company and they had called the local tourist board, who had called the castle’s management, who had spoken to the publicist of the owner, Grigore Albescu, who stated that the castle was categorically closed t
o tourists until further notice.

  No exceptions.

  Naotoshi and his growing band of followers were going to have a field day. A mutiny was the last thing Jennie needed right now. She still hadn’t opened the email. She just couldn’t bear to read what Brian might have written inside. It wouldn’t be good. It never was. And it might be the worst thing she could imagine.

  The young American had bright blue eyes and a smile that was hard to ignore. He was watching her from across the room while she ate in a New York pizza restaurant with her friends. He was sitting at the bar with two other snappily dressed men, but his chair was angled so that he was facing her.

  Whenever she looked up, his gaze seemed to be directed straight at her, and she found herself looking up more and more often, as if to check he was still there. Eventually, one of her friends turned around to see what she kept looking at, and that brought a wide smile to his face.

  ‘He is so checking you out!’ her college friend, Claire, hissed across the table at her. ‘Are you going to go talk to him or what?’

  Jennie felt like an idiot, her cheeks blooming. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she said. ‘He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at….’

  But he was. His eyes were drawn to hers as though there was a string attaching them. Jennie did the only thing she could think of: buried her head and tried not to look up. Eventually, though, she cracked. She glanced up out of the corner of her eye and saw the three men had gone.

  She felt a strange mixture of disappointment and relief. Disappointment because she had never really had a boyfriend before, and relief because she had always been terrible at talking to the opposite sex. All of her college friends got laid fairly regularly, but Jennie was the book nerd of the group, a mix of cultures with her American father and Japanese mother, an oddball with her majors in Eastern European language and history. She figured at some point she would have to join the relationship race—because everyone did in the end, didn’t they?—but she had been gifted another opportunity to put off the inevitable.

  ‘Hey.’

  Except he was standing at her shoulder, holding out a business card.

  A hush descended across the table. Her friends looked up at the man as though a semi-naked Orion had walked right into the middle of their party.

  ‘Um, hi,’ she croaked, her voice cracking so bad that Claire kicked her under the table.

  ‘My name’s Brian,’ he said, giving her that easy smile. ‘I work in the area. Give me a call sometime, won’t you?’

  He handed her the card and walked off without another word. There was something in the elusiveness, that he hadn’t even asked her name, that was insanely attractive. She looked down at the card.

  Brian Goldwin

  Partner

  Clifford Walsh & Treewell.

  14 Meville Bld, 4th & 7th Ave

  ‘Well, if you get in trouble you’ll know who to call,’ Claire said. ‘I wonder how much money he makes?’

  ‘He’s a lawyer,’ Jennie said. ‘I can’t date a lawyer.’

  ‘He’s a hot lawyer,’ Claire replied. ‘Perhaps you could make an exception.’

  On the reverse of the card was a phone number and an email address. She didn’t call him. But after three days of agonizing over it, she did send him a text message.

  She had never really understood the concept of a whirlwind romance until she found herself caught up in one. The one thing that having a busy lawyer for a boyfriend meant was that she had plenty of time to concentrate on her studies because his work kept him busy, but barely an afternoon passed without an email from Brian, and whenever he was free they spent their time together.

  Her parents, a doctor and a translator, had made Jennie accustomed to wealth, but she had never spent money with the same abandon with which Brian did. Stretch limos picked her up from outside the university gates, and she had thought that surprise weekends in Paris only happened in the movies. It wasn’t just Paris either, it was Alaska to see the Northern Lights, or Panama to watch the sun rise over the canal. He was kind, considerate, and attentive, and the sex … the sex was crazy. Brian had a verve for life that Jennie had never known, kept his body in excellent shape, and had the energy of a marathon runner in the bedroom.

  Between her studies and seeing Brian she barely had time to think. There were days, though, like when she went back to Japan over New Year to see her grandparents, where she would sit at the window looking out at the falling snow and wonder if it was all really happening. Their relationship exhausted her, and while she was sure she was happy, she wondered how much of it was real and how much of it was a fantasy that had blown up around her. They partied like there was no tomorrow, and he screwed her like she was the last woman on earth. And through it all he told her he loved her, and she believed him.

  There were only a few complaints over lunch. Once they were shopped out and fed, many of the older folk were sleepy and dozed off as soon as they got back on the bus. Jennie was left to brood over the waiting email with just the hum of the engine and the occasional comment from the driver for company.

  They were heading up through the forest on the other side of town, when the bus came to an abrupt stop behind a line of cars.

  Jennie, who had begun to doze off, sat up and peered out. Up ahead, a police officer was walking down the line, leaning into each car window. After he passed on, a couple of cars pulled out of the line, made a U-turn and headed back the way they had come.

  ‘What’s going on?’ came Naotoshi’s voice, and Jennie looked back to see the old man coming down the aisle to the front. ‘Some of the others are getting worried. That’s a police officer down there, isn’t it? Do your job and find out what’s going on, please.’

  Jennie tried not to glare at him. ‘Please go back to your seat, Mr. Waribe,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it’s something minor. Probably someone just got rear-ended.’

  ‘You might have rear-ending on the mind, you silly tart, but I have vampires.’ He held up his phone towards her. ‘The news says there’s been a murder.’

  ‘Here comes the police officer now,’ she said, forcing the anger out of her voice when all she wanted to do was snap at him, or preferably push him under the bus’s wheels. ‘If you’ll kindly wait a few minutes I’ll find out what’s going on and let you know.’

  ‘No more lies, please,’ Naotoshi said, stomping back up the aisle, making sure his voice was loud enough for most of the other customers to hear. ‘We’re about done being lied to. I imagine your company will be keen to hear about this shambles of a tour.’

  As Jennie slumped back down in her seat, the bus driver gave her a smirk. ‘I don’t know what he’s saying,’ he said to her in Romanian, but I know a man if you’d like to arrange for a snake to show up in the old fart’s bed.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ll keep the offer in mind.’

  A young police officer was knocking on the window. The driver turned back to slide it down, and Jennie listened in to their conversation.

  ‘There’s a crime scene up ahead,’ the police officer said. ‘The road won’t be opened for a while so it’s best if you turn around and head back to your hotel. Due to the nature of the incident, a curfew is being placed over the town tonight. No one is allowed out after dark. By which we mean sunset, which tonight will be approximately seven fourteen p.m. Where are you staying?’

  ‘At the Castle View Hotel.’

  The policeman nodded. ‘Also known as the only hotel in town, right? If it’s possible, I’d advise you to cut short your visit to Heigel and return to Bucharest.’

  ‘What’s happened, officer?’

  ‘Well, since it’s already been leaked to the press, I might as well tell you.’ He glanced back over his shoulder as if worried someone might overhear. ‘We’ve got a murder. The first murder in this town for more than twenty years, and it’s a nasty one. Woman ripped open from neck to abdomen as if she was a fish someone was trying to gut, with a really rusty knife.’

  ‘Ouch. Do
you know who did it?’

  The policeman shook his head. ‘What did it, is more the question. There’s something out in the woods, and it’s getting a taste for killing. We found a dead wolf beside the woman, and only a few minutes ago a dead bear was found lying across the middle of the road. Same injury. That rules out other bears.’ The policeman sighed. ‘Look, if I were you, I’d turn your bus around and get the hell out of town. There’s a possibility we might end up quarantined until whatever’s doing this is caught.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks for letting us know.’

  The policeman nodded and headed on past the bus towards the car queuing behind them.

  ‘I guess we’d better turn around,’ the driver said.

  ‘I’ll let them know,’ Jennie answered, taking the microphone out of its plastic holder and standing up. ‘Excuse me, everyone,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid the road is closed due to a crime scene up ahead, and we’ve been advised to return to our hotel.’

  A series of groans came from the passengers. ‘We’re paying a lot of money for this holiday!’ someone shouted.

  Jennie suddenly felt close to tears. She blinked a film out of her eyes and steeled herself. ‘I’m afraid the situation is out of our control. We’ve been advised that there is a curfew being placed on the town for tonight and that it might be best for us to return to Bucharest early—’

  ‘What about Heigel Castle?’ someone asked.

  ‘It’s closed!’ she snapped, then immediately felt bad when she realised it was the man from one of the young couples who had spoken, rather than one of the older troublemakers. ‘I’m afraid it’s being renovated. It’s a situation that’s out of our control—’

  ‘What are you talking about? Why weren’t we told?’

  ‘I tried to make alternative arrangements—’