Haunted by the Past, page 15
part #11 of Ismael Jones Series
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.
I padded forward, and the floorboards under my feet didn’t make a single sound. I’ve had a lot of practice, when it comes to moving and not being heard. The closer I got to the curtains, the more distinct the silhouette became. It seemed to be crouching, perched on the outside windowsill. I had no idea how it was keeping its balance. It wasn’t moving, not even a little. Just a dark human shape, holding itself inhumanly still, and not making even the smallest sound.
Despite myself, I couldn’t help but remember Catherine’s story about the statues in the grounds creeping up to the house, to stare in through the windows and see what the people were doing. I had no idea how a statue could end up outside a top-floor window, but I was ready to turn its head into rubble if I could just get close enough.
I eased to a halt before the curtains, took a firm hold on the material with both hands, and then hauled the curtains apart with one swift movement. Moonlight poured into the room, but there was no shape anywhere. Just an uninterrupted view, out across the grounds. I pressed my face against the window and stared out at the statues shimmering in the moonlight. I counted them quickly, to reassure myself they were all present and accounted for, and exactly where they should be. And then I felt a little annoyed with myself, for even considering the possibility that they might not be.
I took a deep breath. The scratching sounds could have been rats. The silhouette could have been just a trick of the eye, produced by the paranoid atmosphere. But I had been in scarier situations than this, and I’d always been able to trust my senses before. Unless...there was something in, or perhaps even under Glenbury Hall, that was affecting my senses. Something not of this world. Did the Colonel have some reason to suspect that? Was that the real reason why he’d sent us here?
Penny came forward to join me, moving more easily now the room was full of moonlight. She squeezed in beside me, peered out the window, and then looked at me. She took in the expression on my face, and put a comforting hand on my arm.
“What did you see, Ishmael?”
“Just a shape,” I said.
“Where did it go?”
“I don’t know. I don’t see how it could have gone anywhere.”
Penny searched for something practical to say. “It could have been someone spying on us. Maybe they went back down a ladder?”
I threw the window open as far as it would go, and leaned out into the night. Penny made an exasperated noise and grabbed the back of my belt with both hands, to keep me from falling. I looked up and down the front of the house, but there was no sign of a ladder anywhere. And there was definitely no one out in the grounds. Penny tugged hard on my belt, to make it clear she thought I’d been out there long enough, so I let her pull me back inside the room. And then I stopped, as something caught my eye.
“What is it?” said Penny.
“Look at this,” I said, nodding to the windowsill.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Those scuff marks.”
“Okay...” said Penny. “I suppose that could be scuff marks. You think they mean something?”
“They look recent,” I said.
“And that makes them a clue?”
“Could be. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Well, while you’re doing that could we please close the window?” said Penny. “Only it is getting a bit cold in here.”
I shut the window and went to close the curtains, but Penny stopped me.
“I feel better with some light in the room,” she said. “Particularly if there really was something out there.”
“I saw something,” I said.
“And it’s not like you, to see things that aren’t there.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
“Maybe one of the gargoyles climbed down from the roof.”
I gave Penny a hard look. “I think we would have heard something like that.”
“Not if it’s a supernatural thing,” said Penny. “They follow their own rules.”
“Even Catherine didn’t believe that the gargoyles get up and move around,” I said carefully.
Penny’s mouth tightened into a flat line.
“Is a gargoyle climbing down to peer in our window really any odder than some of the things we’ve encountered on our other cases?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “You have to draw the line somewhere, or you’d never know what to believe. Come on. Let’s go out into the corridor and do something impulsive. You know that always makes you feel better.”
“I am in the mood to take out my frustrations on anyone who looks even a little bit guilty,” Penny admitted.
“If anyone gives us a hard time,” I said, “I will knock them down, and you can put the boot in.”
“Hell with that,” said Penny. “I’ll knock them down and you can put the boot in.”
“I can live with that,” I said.
We went back to the door, and I eased it open. The wood made only the faintest of creaking noises, and the hinges were surprisingly quiet. All the way down the long corridor, shafts of moonlight poured in through the gabled windows...but the shadows were still very deep and very dark. There was no one about, and everything seemed perfectly quiet. I stepped out into the corridor, and Penny was there with me in a moment. I pulled the door to, but didn’t completely close it. Just in case we needed to dive back into our room in a hurry. When you’re about to head off into dangerous territory, it always pays to have your exit route planned.
Penny stared down the corridor, narrowing her eyes against the shadows.
“We should have brought the flashlight from the car.”
“It would only ruin your night vision,” I said. “Take a moment, and give your eyes a chance to adjust.”
I was struck by how much longer the corridor seemed, compared to when we’d walked it in daylight. Everything seemed strange and unfamiliar, as though we’d strayed into unknown territory, where anything could happen.
I smiled quietly to myself, as I let my mind range freely through the possibilities. What if...the Hall had been built over an ancient elven burial ground,; or there was a crashed alien starship buried deep under the well? What if the entire house was a doorway to another reality, where all the rules were different? If you’re going to think really weird thoughts, you might as well go the whole hog. I pushed them all firmly to one side and set off down the corridor, to see what there was to see. Because that was what I did. And Penny was right there beside me, because that was what she did.
We moved through the gloom like ghosts, neither of us making a sound on the bare wooden floorboards. And my first thought was, if we can do this, so could somebody else. We kept to the shadows, avoiding the moonlight, just in case someone was watching. After a while, I eased to a halt. Penny stopped with me and leaned in close, so she could murmur in my ear.
“What is it, Ishmael? What can you see?”
“I’m not seeing anything,” I said quietly. “I’d swear this corridor was completely empty. But I’m sure I just heard footsteps again, from somewhere up ahead.”
“Human footsteps?” said Penny.
“I think we can rule out statues and gargoyles,” I said.
“Of course,” said Penny. “They’re much heavier, so their footsteps would be louder.”
I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to know whether she was joking. I kept my gaze fixed on the shadows ahead of us. They seemed deeper and darker than ever.
“The footsteps seemed to just start up out of nowhere, and then stop again,” I said. “And there was something...not quite right, about them.”
“Okay...” said Penny. “Glad to hear it’s not just me who’s freaking out. Let’s run right at them, and see what happens.”
I stabbed a finger at a movement further down the corridor. A dark figure had just emerged from the shadows. A human shape, though it took me a moment to be sure of that because it was down on its hands and knees. The head was hanging low, so I couldn’t even get a glimpse of its face. The thing headed towards us with slow, deliberate movements, as though it was horribly tired, or in great pain. The figure was definitely there, a solid physical presence, I could hear the slow scrapings of its hands and knees against the floorboards.
And I remembered the barman saying, It crawls...
It felt like I was in the presence of something not of this world, only able to exist in our reality through its own force of will. A threatening presence, come to do us harm. I realised I’d moved instinctively to place myself in front of Penny, and that thought was enough to put me back in a practical frame of mind. The crawling thing might be creepy as hell, but when in doubt...get your hands on the threat, and see if you can shake some answers out of it.
I charged down the corridor, running straight at the figure. It lurched sideways, and disappeared into a wall. I yelled back at Penny.
“Turn on the lights!”
“I don’t know where the switch is!” said Penny.
“Find it!”
I couldn’t hear the sounds the figure had been making anymore. When I reached the spot where I’d last seen it, I crashed to a halt and looked quickly around, but there was no trace of the crawling shape anywhere. Penny finally found the switch, and bright lights flooded the corridor from end to end. It was completely empty, and where the deep dark shadow had been there was just a featureless length of wall. And no sign anywhere to suggest where the figure could have gone. I struck the wall with my fist, and the sound came back flat and solid.
I hurried on down the corridor, throwing open each door as I came to it, but every room was empty, with nowhere obvious for anything to hide. And besides, I was sure I would have heard a door opening and closing. As if to confirm that, doors started banging open behind me, and I looked back to see Marion standing in the doorway to her room, wrapped in an elegant silk robe. I thought she looked surprisingly neat and tidy, for someone who’d just been roused from her sleep.
“Who is making all that noise?” she said loudly. “Did I hear someone running up and down the corridor?”
“It’s only me,” I said.
She glared at me. “Mr. Jones. I might have known.”
Wendy stepped out into the corridor, wearing an over-sized dressing gown and fluffy slippers. She didn’t seem the least bit scared. Her hands had clenched into fists, and she looked ready to tackle anything.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” she said fiercely.
Before I could answer her, the door to the communal bathroom swung open and Arthur stepped out into the corridor, wearing baggy striped pyjamas. He blinked confusedly around him, before looking to Marion.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right!” she said sharply. “Wait. Where’s Ellen?”
We all looked round, but there was no sign of the teenage girl. Arthur hurried down the corridor and knocked loudly on Ellen’s door, calling her name. Her voice came back immediately, as though she’d been standing on the other side of the door, just waiting for someone to come to her.
“I’m all right, Dad. But I’m not coming out. My door is locked and it’s going to stay that way.”
“Nothing bad is going on out here,” said Arthur. The look on his face contradicted his reassuring tone. “But if you are feeling...upset, you could always come and spend the night with your mother and me. If you want.”
There was a pause as Ellen thought about it, but when she finally answered her voice was flat but firm.
“No.”
Arthur just nodded, as though he hadn’t expected anything else. “Then stay where you are, sweetie, and don’t come out till the morning. I’m sure everything will seem better, in the morning.”
He waited, to see if there might be an answer. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get one, he turned away and came back to join the rest of us.
“Teenagers,” he said, trying to smile.
Penny came hurrying along the corridor to join me, and Marion glared at both of us.
“What are you doing out of your room? Why all this commotion?”
“Crashing about, at this hour of the morning,” said Wendy, glowering heavily. “I’d only just dropped off!”
“I thought I heard someone moving about,” I said steadily. “And when I came out into the corridor, I saw a shape emerging from the shadows. It was some kind of figure, down on all fours, heading towards me. When I tried to get closer...it disappeared into the wall.”
“It crawls...” said Arthur. “No one’s seen that manifestation in more than fifty years!”
Marion glared him into silence, and then turned a cold gaze on me.
“Are you saying we have an intruder in the house?”
“That’s not possible,” Arthur said immediately. “I set the burglar alarms myself, before I came up. Front door and back. And if anyone had broken a window to get in, we would have heard. Those old windows are really thick glass, and take a lot of breaking. There couldn’t have been an intruder.”
Marion looked at me scornfully. “Chasing ghosts, at your age.” She switched her accusing stare to Penny. “Did you see this figure too?”
“No,” said Penny. “But if Ishmael said he saw someone, I’m sure he did.”
And then we all looked round sharply as a piercing scream issued from Catherine’s bedroom, and we suddenly realised she was the only one we hadn’t heard from. Wendy headed for Catherine’s door, calling out her name. She was closer to it than me, but I still got there first. I rattled the handle, but the door was locked. I banged on it with my fist, hard enough to make the wood jump in its frame.
“Catherine! This is Ishmael Jones; what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, but her scream broke off, replaced by harsh tears. Wendy forced herself in beside me, and raised her voice.
“Catherine, this is Wendy. Please; open the door and let us in.”
The sobbing didn’t stop. Wendy glared at me.
“Do something!”
I already had the pass key in my hand. I unlocked the door, threw it back and burst into the room, with Wendy right behind me. I found the light switch by the door, and turned it on.
Catherine was sitting bolt upright in bed, in over-sized flower-patterned pyjamas. Her back was pressed against the headboard, as though she was trying to retreat through it. She didn’t even look at me, shaking all over from the force of her tears. Wendy hurried past me, and sat down on the bed beside Catherine. She reached out a comforting hand, and Catherine clutched it in both of hers. She tried to say something, but her voice was still choked with tears.
“You’re all right, dear,” Wendy said soothingly. “You’re fine, you’re not hurt, and I’m right here with you. Anyone gives you any trouble, I will kick them through a wall. Can you tell me what happened?”
Catherine’s tears began to slow, and she swallowed hard. When she finally spoke, her voice was high and strained, but she seemed more in control of herself.
“Someone was in my room. Even though I’d locked my door.”
“When was this?” I said. “Just now?”
Catherine shook her head jerkily. “No. Some time back. I woke up, and there was a figure standing at the foot of my bed. It didn’t move, or say anything; it just stood there, staring at me.”
“Was it a man?” said Wendy. “Could you see what he looked like?”
Catherine shuddered briefly. “It was so dark...All I could see was a shape. Human, but...It was the way it just stood there...I was so scared! And then suddenly it was moving, coming round the end of the bed, and I sat up and scrambled backwards, thinking it was coming for me, but it just walked into the wall and was gone! And all I could do was sit here, trembling, until I heard people talking in the corridor, and then I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
She tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Screaming like a girl, at my time of life.”
“Can you remember any details about this figure?” I said.
Wendy glared at me. “This can wait! She’s in shock!”
“It’s best to ask now,” I said, “while the memories are still fresh.”
Catherine was already shaking her head. “The room was too dark. But there was something in the way it stood, the way it moved, that made me think it wasn’t...completely human.”
I moved quickly around the room, checking behind every piece of furniture, while Wendy stayed with Catherine. I even knelt down and peered underneath the bed, just in case. I got up again, and smiled reassuringly at Catherine.
“There’s no one here now. You’re perfectly safe.”
“Would you mind taking a look inside the wardrobe?” Catherine said timidly. “I know I saw the figure disappear through the wall, so there can’t be anything hiding in there...But I always thought something might be, when I was a child.”
“Not a problem,” I said.
I opened the wardrobe’s doors and pushed them all way back, so Catherine could see there was nothing inside apart from a few clothes on hangers.
“Check the window,” said Wendy. “He might have got in that way.”
It didn’t seem the right time to mention the shape I’d seen at my window. I went over to take a look. Marion and Arthur were peering in through the open door, and I heard Marion sniff dismissively.
“We’re on the top floor,” she said, not even bothering to lower her voice. “Whoever it was would need a really long ladder. Or maybe he abseiled down from the roof?”
I pulled back the curtains, opened the window and looked out, and then closed the windows and the curtains, and turned back to smile reassuringly at Catherine.
“No ladder,” I said. “And nothing to indicate the window was forced. I think you just had a bad dream, Catherine. That’s what comes from telling too many ghost stories, with perhaps too much wine at dinner.”
Catherine shook her head stubbornly. “There was someone in here...”
“Of course there was,” said Wendy, glaring at me defiantly.
“Then where is this intruder?” said Arthur.
“He walked through the wall,” said Catherine, in the kind of voice that made it clear she didn’t expect to be believed, but had to say it anyway because that was what happened. She shook her head slowly. “This house is full of things that got left behind, or won’t go away. Echoes of distant crimes that have never been forgiven. The past isn’t as far away as it should be, in Glenbury Hall.” She shuddered suddenly, and I saw her knuckles whiten where she gripped Wendy’s hand. “I don’t think the Hall likes me anymore.”
