Urban Necromancer (7 page)

“So you didn’t see the Light?” Juliet seemed surprised but nodded. “OK, I can bring you the Light. I’ve learned to do it. I’ve learned to do a lot in this
condition
. ”

Simon stared at her with a look of suspicion. Twin jets of ethereal cigarette smoke blew from each nostril. Suddenly a ‘eureka’ expression took centre stage on his face. He reached into his ghostly pocket and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He looked at Juliet and smiled.

“Will you look at that!?”

“You're learning.”

After a large sip he recoiled, coughed, then laughed. When his laugh ran out of fuel, he took another swig. He then offered the bottle to Juliet, who shook her head in response to the gesture.

The Spirit-Juliet closed her eyes and put her hand out in the direction of the wall behind Simon. Obediently, the Light tore through the wall and entered the physical world.

Simon immediately took a step away, alarm etched on his face. “What... what are you doing?”

“It’s the Light. You need to go through, you can’t stay here. You can’t just terrorise people; what happened to you is not their fault.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the chair, you must have caught me in a bad mood.”

“And what about the couple before me? What about Emily? Remember her? I’ve seen some pictures of her face. Seems you mastered certain bits of this
condition
very well; you know how to hurt people, don’t you Simon?”

Her words seemed to affect him greatly; he looked away, avoiding eye contact like a scolded child.

Her tone softened. “It’s not their fault don’t you see?”

“But it’s someone’s fault. Doesn’t that matter? You think my murderers are in jail? No. I watched them bury the body in these very grounds. I haven’t seen anyone dig it up, so I guess it’s still there and that they are still free. Hey, who the Hell would miss me, right?”

“What happened?”

“I was the gardener. Marilyn Stone, the former lady of this manor, married her husband for money, but she looked to others for her pleasure. I thought―stupidly―that… it doesn’t matter what I thought. I really should have looked into his associations before I did what I did. One day when we thought he was out, he walked into the bedroom... I don’t need to tell you what he saw. He kicked the Hell out of me, when I woke up I was in the pool; you see this guy could have thrown me in while I was unconscious, but not Tony Stone. He wanted me to wake up first, so that he could have the pleasure of killing me. While I was there, tied up in the pool, he’d have the odd stab with his knife. Marilyn Stone watched on; she didn’t say a word, too scared at the prospect of losing Tony’s money. She helped him bury me. I stood and watched that. They buried the knife with the body. They put the house up for sale and moved away. Marilyn liked her fun, but she liked money more than anything, and Tony Stone had money.”

Juliet ordered the Light away. “Your body is buried in the grounds? And you can tell me where?”

He cottoned on quickly to her meaning and smiled. “Oh yeah. I can pinpoint the exact spot.”

“And if we get them... if I get you justice, you will leave?”

He paused, considered her words, then, “You get me justice Juliet, and then… yes, I’ll leave.”

Chapter XIV

Juliet led Joe past the stables and onto a part of the grounds where maintenance was slipping. Rain hammered down from the heavens. The ground was wet and soaking through Juliet’s thin training shoes. Joe’s mood this morning was funereal and the rain was not making it any better. Juliet stopped, pointed out the spot Simon Fell had told her about. Joe edged closer, a forensic eye feasted on the scene: an outdoor bench sitting between two trees. Juliet’s finger had pointed not to the bench, but the ground below. It was a good spot to hide a body, Joe decided clinically. Shadows from the trees and the bench disguised the uneven ground below it. The ground that had been dug up and reset with a corpse.

Joe nodded to a question he must have been asking himself, then turned to Juliet. “Definitely here right?”

Juliet nodded affirmation.

An acknowledged nod from Joe.

Silence. More moody staring at the grave from Joe.

Juliet was getting wet and bored. “So how we going to play this?”

Joe looked up at her; a plan was forming, still vague and nebulous.

*

On the way back to London, Joe was thoughtful and muted. His plan, whatever it was, was still being constructed behind calculating eyes. Even when you served him a murder on a silver plate, he had to construct schemes and duplicity around it. It was simply habit by now; English was a second language to lies and subterfuge.

Juliet was looking forward to getting home. She’d rediscovered a passion for reading while she was away and planned to pick up some second hand books and spend a lazy weekend surrounded by cushions on her sofa. No need to compromise, no need to consider someone else’s view… she sighed. It was glorious freedom and miserable isolation. She was an acolyte of Joe. He started work early and finished late, perhaps anxious to spend as little time as possible in a four-bedroomed house which housed only one. She had her hang-ups about her scars, but Joe was another barrier to her meeting someone. He would get angry if his possession showed someone else any interest at all.

“You want to go for a drink when we get back?” Joe asked.

“No.” Juliet replied with no preamble. No – she didn’t want to join Joe in a toast to lost souls.

“We need to co-ordinate.” declared Joe.

“What?”

“Stone. I did some digging. He lives in America now. We could find a body and make a move for extradition, but that could be long and drawn out.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“We just wait.”

“For what?”

“Stone is still of interest to a lot of people. Nothing on him, but there have been operations monitoring his activity. Naturally his movements are tracked.”

“OK.” Juliet said, taking her cue from Joe’s pause rather than understanding what his plan was.

Joe continued, “He comes in and out of the country for meetings, naturally.”

Another pause, Juliet filled the void with an “A-ha.”

“But his mother is still in this country. And last year he and his lovely wife Marilyn came back for her birthday, which is in 21 days time.”

Juliet nodded, picking up the thread. “So you wait while they are both inside the country―”

“If we coordinate and time it just right… we have an anonymous tip-off about a body in a grand estate. This tip-off relates to a drunken confession from a woman named Marilyn Stone, confessing to a killing she was involved in some years ago. The tip-off mentions the name that Marilyn mentions - Simon Fell. I’ll look into it. I will find out that Simon Fell is on the missing person’s list. I’ll also find out that he worked for the Stones before appearing on the missing person’s list. The tip-off even gives an indication that the body was buried between two trees in the grounds. We bring in forensics. A body is found just as Marilyn and Tony step off the plane. They are arrested. Marilyn Stone confesses pretty much immediately, she isn’t very strong according to Intel. As for Tony Stone, well he tries to turn it around and blames the wife. They both blame each other.”

Joe’s face relaxed into a satisfied smile. This was his passion, his surrogate relationship, the flame burning brightly behind his eyes. Stone was a big fish and his arrest a way of advancing Joe’s career. What would that do to Joe? He’d probably get worse. It was like he had a disease that was spreading. And that only spelled bad news for Juliet.

Chapter XV

The premium cabins on the Delphi Airlines flight to London were one of the reasons that Marilyn Stone enjoyed her life. Life was about luxury and comfort, not the squalor some passengers put up with in their seats. She stood behind some of them now, as they were herded from the plane. A male and female member of the cabin crew smiled cheerily to all passengers as they disembarked and thanked them for flying Delphi Airlines and hoped they had a great time in London.

Marilyn noticed the male cabin crew attendant. He was mid twenties and had a flawless complexion and toned body. As their eyes met, he wished her a good day and his eyes remained on her for longer than they needed to. Marilyn Stone was used to this; at 38 she still had the slim, athletic figure, the honey blonde hair and the high wattage smile that a woman ten years younger would die for. Any areas on her body which were south of flawless could be taken care of by corrective surgery. Life without money was unthinkable. Her husband Tony flanked her as they made their way down the steps and touched British soil. Tony was sullen and she knew better than to even make conversation while he was in this mood. There was an issue with one of his ‘teams’ and he’d have to sort it out while he was here. Marilyn’s agenda was pretty empty apart from the party they had planned for her mother-in-law. She had no friends in England anymore, so shopping, spas, fine wines and dining were top of the bill.

They made their way to passport control and stood in line like all the rest. Marilyn hated queuing. Money normally took this problem away, but not here. There was only one staff member on the passport control desk and progress was slow. Tired passengers made small talk while the queue depressingly plodded along. Tony’s mood was worsening with the wait and Marilyn was desperate to get through this line, out of the airport and into a waiting taxi, before he snapped about some minor mannerism she had displayed today.

When they finally reached the passport control desk, she parted with her passport, took off her sunglasses and traded smiles with the man at the desk. The man scanned her passport. He paused and didn’t seem to hand it back quickly like he had to the rest. He was reading some information from a computer screen. He then looked back at Marilyn Stone; all traces of his smile had gone.

Marilyn looked at her husband, then back at the official. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face before he handed her back the passport and let her through.

The incident had unnerved them both. The man could only have been looking at their travel history, yet their pace through the rest of the airport increased. Marilyn spotted the exit doors in the distance and marched towards them. Tony, older and rotund, fell behind.

“Marilyn Stone?”

Marilyn turned in the direction of the voice, a cocky looking gel-combed haircut in a sharp suit.

“Anthony Gerard Stone?”

A second voice. Tony Stone looked in his direction. Sharp suit two. In the background, surrounding them in the periphery, other sharp suits; watching the action, waiting, ready for trouble. Cops, all of them. Tony Stone cursed. Coming back here had been a big mistake.

Chapter XVI

From an upstairs room in Breybury Hall, someone had watched the police exhume Simon Fell’s earthly body with great interest.

The disruptions were over. The garden was quiet now, his body taken for a proper burial. He watched as a taxi now made its way up the gravel drive to the house. He watched the Necromancer step out of the taxi and walk up to the front door. She just couldn’t get enough of him could she? He checked his hair in an ethereal mirror that he thought into existence. He looked fine.

*

“Trial is next year. Tony Stone is denying everything of course, but Marilyn isn’t looking forward to prison and will do anything to lighten her sentence of aiding and abetting, or whatever it is they have charged her with.”

Simon was staring out of the window; when he turned around to face her, she could see that, like a sorcerer’s apprentice, he’d learned from Juliet some of the rules of the
condition
. He had imagined himself a new wardrobe since they’d last met: a leather jacket with tassels, cowboy jeans complete with a belt and Stetsons. He was even sporting an abdominal muscle six-pack, which was bursting through his white t-shirt. The crow’s feet around his eyes had even disappeared. A scar on his cheek had also gone and he even seemed tanned. He looked like a Hollywood reboot of himself.

“Why can’t I leave the grounds of this property, Juliet?”

“I don’t know.” she began. “I can walk out of my body anywhere, but some spirits seem to be grounded near the scene of death. I don’t know why. Why do you ask? Were you thinking of going on vacation or something?”

He started to smile but the expression didn’t take. His appearance and manner were worrying her; he circled her, saying nothing. He pulled out a Cuban cigar and then eyeballed her.

“You ready to go Simon? We had a deal.” She tried to say the words with authority, but couldn’t help but think that they sounded a little croaky.

He paused and puffed ghostly cigar smoke into the air. He continued pacing around like a caged lion. He then held his hand in the air, “Watch this Juliet.” He rubbed his hands together and a pattern of lights appeared above his head. When he moved his hand away, the lights stayed, lingering over his head like a halo. With another command from his hand, the circle of light rotated around his head. Eventually the light show faded.

“Can you do that?” he asked her.

“It’s a neat trick.”

How the Hell had he done that?

“Learnt a lot of neat tricks ― oh, thanks to you, the apprentice should always acknowledge the master.” He made a gesture as if he were a gentleman doffing his cap to a lady.

“Simon, are you ready to go?”

He smirked at her and then blew smoke in her direction. “What’s actually in the Light, Juliet?”

Juliet paused, then said, “It’s where we go.” The answer was not going to pacify him and she knew it.

“You’ve no idea what’s behind the Light do you? You’ve no idea what awaits us.”

She paused again, briefly calculating that it would be pointless to lie. “No I don’t.”

“Why do you think I should take the trip then? See, in my human state I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell, God and the Devil. But I think, given my current predicament, that I may need to re-appraise my beliefs. I wasn’t quite an angel in my human condition, so maybe I’m better off here. What do you think?”