Authors: Dean Vincent Carter

The Hand of the Devil (16 page)

BOOK: The Hand of the Devil

10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

‘It almost ruined the experiment. A combination of alcohol, mutilation and sheer bewilderment drove that wretch to destroy himself. And I don’t just mean suicide. I mean real destruction. He started by tearing his—’

‘Please!’ I couldn’t take it. If he wanted to talk about his foul deeds, he could surely do it without certain details.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Reeves. I sometimes forget how desensitized I’ve become to all this. They’re mere memories now. Nothing I’ve seen or done strikes me as being particularly gruesome any more. To me it’s a series of unfortunate incidents, punctuated by genuine scientific discoveries. And that is the important thing after all. Soames and I made genuine progress in our studies. Not, I’m sure, that many people would see it that way. Society forgets all too quickly that some of the most important discoveries in history were made after and amidst great pain and suffering.’

I could feel the acid rising in my stomach. I didn’t want to stand up any more. I had to concentrate to keep myself together. If there was going to be even a slight chance of getting the better of Mather, I’d have to stay focused and alert.

‘Soames knew, like I did, that we would have to get our hands dirty in order to make any real progress. He was always a little squeamish, but I was usually able to make him do what was necessary.’

‘So you were the one who initiated the experiments.’

‘Yes. I came up with the ideas. I was the one who had to do the convincing, the arm-twisting. It was hard work too. Soames had principles, you see. Rigid principles about conduct and so-called “integrity”. Ha.’ Mather laughed. ‘But he soon came round. I can be quite persuasive when I need to be,’ he said, stroking the hilt of the dagger.

‘So what happened to him?’

‘Soames . . . Soames lost his way. Some of my more extravagant ideas were just . . . too much for him.’

‘Extravagant?’

‘Yes. Well, I suppose some people may have stronger words for it. There are very few things in life that shock me, Mr Reeves. I must have a strong stomach. Or perhaps for me the most unpleasant sights and sounds are still part of the general wonder of nature. What sickens one person may delight another. It’s all down to taste. And my tastes are admittedly . . . unique.’

‘Oh.’ I was loathing him more and more by the second.

‘What I wanted, and what Soames always lacked the courage for, was to explore the unknown. To conduct the sort of experiments that had previously only been hinted at. Unwarranted organ extraction was just one of many ideas that came to me in my dreams.’

‘What else did you do?’ I still hadn’t formulated a plan of action to get myself out of the basement alive, but keeping Mather talking seemed like a good idea.

‘You look quite unwell as it is, Mr Reeves. Perhaps I shouldn’t make things worse for you.’

‘No, really, I’m interested. As you say, all this would make a great story.’

‘Indeed. Although . . . perhaps this story should be kept between the two of us . . .’ He looked at me.

‘Well, I can keep a secret. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you didn’t want me to.’

‘Oh, I would love to trust you, really. But I have more than my own well-being to think about. The Lady must be protected too. There is so much at stake, you see.’

‘But tell me,’ I said, trying to keep the conversation going, ‘besides the liver extraction, what else did you do?’

Mather chuckled at this. ‘Oh, we’ve barely scratched the surface yet. Can you imagine what else we extracted?’

‘The heart?’

‘No, no. What use would that be? Think more imaginatively.’

‘Lungs?’

‘Mmm. Remarkable, if limited, results.’ He waited for me to make another suggestion.

This was easily the worst guessing game I’d ever played, but I had to keep him happy while I desperately sought a way out. ‘The kidneys?’

‘Yes. Tried that twice, but both times the experiment was botched. Soames’s fault entirely. He could be a clumsy oaf sometimes.’

‘Why did you choose him to help you? Weren’t there more able students?’

‘Oh, without a doubt. But finding ones who were willing as well as able – now that was a challenge. Luckily I marked Soames out as a co-conspirator from the moment I met him. The poor man thought I was just being friendly. I do regret deceiving him in that respect. He was greatly in need of companionship, so I befriended him, gained his trust and, in time, his obedience.’

‘Obedience?’

‘Yes. I had to be in charge, in complete control, otherwise the work would have lacked focus. I was able to gradually shape Soames, change his way of thinking. Now he’s little more than a drone, a slave—’

‘You mean he’s
here
?’

‘I . . .’ Mather was fazed for a moment. He knew he’d said something he shouldn’t have. ‘My mistake. I’ve been alone for so long now . . . Sometimes, having conversations with people who aren’t really here is a way for me to stop myself from going a little strange. I often talk to Soames. It’s silly, but necessary. Now then,’ he said, changing the subject, ‘what else do you think we removed?’

‘Wouldn’t it be quicker for me to guess what things you
didn’t
remove?’

Mather didn’t like that dry remark. His smile faltered slightly. ‘Come now, Mr Reeves. That’s hardly the attitude, is it?’

‘No, I suppose not,’ I replied. ‘What about the brain?’

At this his eyes lit up and his broad smile returned. ‘Well, well, well. That was quite a jump, Mr Reeves. From kidney to brain in one move. You tell me though. Did we? Did we remove someone’s brain?’

‘No,’ I answered. ‘The results are too predictable.’

‘Bravo! Absolutely right.’

The smell of decay, which up until then hadn’t seemed as strong as before (probably obscured by the stronger smell of fear), was now reasserting itself. My stomach turned over again. I really needed to be out of there. But in that instant a question that had been buried in my mind since falling into the pit rose to the surface.

Why aren’t there any flies around the bodies?

This caused me to break eye contact with Mather, to turn my attention to the pit. I listened for the sound of buzzing, for the sound of tiny, almost imperceptible wing movements. Nothing. I looked back at Mather. He’d noticed my distraction.

‘Something wrong, Mr Reeves?’

‘No.’ I shook my head.

Mather reached out with his right hand and began softly stroking the snaking blade of the dagger. ‘Good. I’d hate to think I was boring—’

‘Why aren’t there any flies?’ Maybe I said it to divert him, or maybe I genuinely sought the answer. Either way, the question was begging to be asked.

‘I’m sorry?’ He looked up, the smile fading a little.

‘Flies. I haven’t seen any.’ This was true and I think Mather picked up on the sincerity in my voice.

‘I don’t understand.’ He took his hand away from the dagger and walked round the table towards me. I sensed concern. I’d succeeded in throwing him off guard, so I continued.

‘The bodies,’ I said, pointing to the pit. ‘They’re in various stages of decomposition. There should be thousands of flies around them. What did you do, douse the bodies in insecticide?’

Mather looked confused now. He stepped closer to the pit, listening perhaps. ‘No, no, I didn’t. Strange, it’s never crossed my mind before.’

But it has now. And it sounds as if it’s bothering you
.

‘I suppose you’re right. There should be . . .’ He stepped even closer to the lip and carefully leaned forward, one hand on the doorway for support, straining to hear.

I knew this might be the only chance I was going to get, but I needed him to be just a little more off balance. ‘How often do you see insects on the island – besides the Lady, as you call her?’ I asked, to keep him distracted.

‘I hadn’t really . . . That’s very odd. I don’t remember seeing any lately.’

‘Yes. Very strange.’ I was trying to think of how I could continue to distract him, but it wasn’t easy. Why
were
there no insects? If I knew, perhaps I could use it to further disrupt his concentration. As it turned out though, I’d already done enough.

‘My God,’ Mather uttered suddenly. ‘Of course!’

‘What?’

‘Oh, dear Lord. The dragonfly!’

‘Dragonfly?’

‘The Yemen dragonfly – it’s him!’

‘Who?’

‘According to the myth his presence drives all lesser insects away. But I don’t understand. If he’s here, then she should have sensed him.’

‘She? You mean the Ganges Red?’

‘Yes, the Lady. She would know – she must.’

‘The Yemen dragonfly?’ The nightmare seemed to be taking an even more surreal turn. ‘What is that? What’s so important about it?’

‘The Yemen is the only creature capable of posing a threat to the Lady. She’s in great danger while the Yemen is here. I must get back to her.’

‘The Yemen’s more dangerous than her?’

‘Oh, considerably more. She has told me often of the danger he poses. The thought of him upsets her greatly. She fears he intends to kill her. He is an incarnation of—’ He was growing quite pale now.

‘What?’

‘He cannot be allowed to get to her!’

‘Wait.’ I had to stall him. ‘It sounds as if there haven’t been any flies on the island for ages. Wouldn’t that mean that the dragonfly has been here for some time?’

‘Yes. He must have been waiting, biding his time. He could strike at any moment!’ Mather turned again. He was eager to take care of business there and then so he could get back to the house. He eyed the dagger on the table. ‘Come, Mr Reeves, there’s no need for us to linger any longer.’

Linger any longer? Oh God, this is it. I’m going to die!
I could see it all in his eyes.

His hand left the wall of the doorway and he began to move. Although still in the grip of terror, my instinct took over and I rushed forward, straight into him, stopping at the doorway and allowing the impetus to push him off the floor and down towards the mass of rotting flesh. His expression as he fell was almost comical. It was a look of stark surprise, of unfiltered panic. His hands flailed for purchase, but there was nothing for them to grab onto. I heard the dull thud of impact, the loud crack of a bone breaking, then silence.
Oh my God
, I thought as I turned and fled.
I’ve broken his neck!

IX: DEFAMATION

Taking Mather’s advice, I didn’t linger any longer. Tearing through the door, into the outer room and up the stone steps, I prayed that Mather’s body had been swallowed up by the foul death mound of his own doing. When I reached the top of the stairs, I pulled the door to the stairwell shut, wedging it hard against the frame. I ran over and grabbed one of the stools lying on the floor, then jammed it under the door handle to make sure Mather couldn’t turn it. If he managed to crawl out of that pit alive, I felt sure he’d never get through this door now. I sprinted down the length of the huge room, feet crunching on glass that had already been trodden into countless pieces, then burst into the reception area and out through the front door into the welcoming daylight.

I wanted to stop and hide myself in the trees, but instead kept on along the path, aware that if Mather wasn’t in fact dead, time was of the essence. When I reached the gate, I remembered to open it and went through. I wasn’t far from the beach now, and I wondered how I was going to get the padlock off the door of the boathouse. Turning a bend, my head down, I was suddenly sure I was being watched. By the time I looked up it was too late, and I ran headlong into a tall figure blocking my way.

We both tumbled into the long grass by the side of the path. I was lucky not to have banged my head on the nearby tree stump. The stranger got to his feet quickly, brushing himself down. Holding out his hand, he helped me up. He was a lot taller than Mather and wore an old, worn shirt, trousers to match and shoes that had seen far better days. His hair was long and dirty and his eyes appeared bruised, which was perhaps the result of sleepless nights. His skin was the colour of decay and he had the appearance of a man who was clinging to life for some unknown reason, as death had all but claimed him. In many ways he matched Mather’s earlier description of Soames. But after all I’d seen, I wasn’t quick to make assumptions.

‘Help me! Please, you’ve got to—’ I began, then stopped, sensing something wasn’t right. Studying the expression on the man’s face, I saw there was no surprise, no animation there, just a weary resignation, as though he’d been in this situation a dozen times.

‘You must be Ashley Reeves,’ he said, looking anxiously past my shoulder towards the research centre. ‘What have you done with him?’

‘Are you Soames?’ I wondered if I’d escaped one monster just to end up in the clutches of another.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh God!’ I got to my feet and tried to run past him, but he grabbed my left arm and held on with surprising force.

BOOK: The Hand of the Devil

10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

ads