The shelves were mostly filled with photography books of tattoos and body art, with others on taxidermy and skin preservation. But one shelf had a thin book bound in soft leather. The pattern inked on the skin looked like dragon scales in hues of purple.
"Is it bound in human skin?" Blake asked.
"Anthropomorphic bibliopegy is a great tradition," Corium said. "Anatomy texts bound in the skin of cadavers, judicial proceedings bound in the skin of murderers –"
"Lampshades made from the skin of murdered Jews …" Blake whispered, looking more closely at the books. "Where do you draw the line?" He turned back to look at them and Jamie saw his blue eyes were steel-hard. "May I touch them?"
It wasn't a question. Corium nodded slowly. Blake removed one of his gloves and reached out to touch the book.
Chapter 14
Blake could sense vibrations on the surface of the skin through his fingertips, as if it held within itself the energy from the dead soul it had once bound in flesh. The veil of consciousness clouded his vision and he dipped into memory.
He found himself in a basement with high ceilings, the walls and floor tiled so they could be more easily hosed down. There was a copper smell in the cool air, the bitterness of blood. Empty meat hooks hung in a line on a railing above. There was an animal shriek in the darkness, a sound of terror that echoed through the empty space. Blake shuddered and tried to move, but the body he could see through was chained to the wall and couldn't escape.
He heard footsteps coming towards him and a whimper of fear echoed in the basement. He wanted to pull out of the trance, but he needed to see who was there. A man came out of the darkness, a skinning knife in his hand, his face obscured by the mask of the plague doctor, hooked beak swaying as he approached.
As panic escalated, Blake pulled himself from the trance, ripping his hand away from the book and collapsing to the floor. His breath came fast, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself.
"It's OK, Blake," Jamie whispered, stroking his forehead. "You're safe now."
She gave him some water and he sipped at it, slowly recovering his breath. Corium Jones stood looking at them, his eyes narrowed in interest but not judgement or doubt. Blake supposed that the man was used to the odd in his line of work. But how much did he know of the provenance of the skin he worked on?
"The skin was taken," Blake said after a moment. "This person was murdered for it but the man who did it hid his face. He wore one of those Venetian plague doctor masks with the long beak for herbs to prevent the smell and decay from reaching them."
"Do you have some kind of psychic ability?" Corium asked, fascination in his voice.
Blake stood up and put his glove back on.
"You could call it that," he said. "I can read the emotional resonance of objects."
Jamie pointed at the book. "Who gave you this skin?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent.
"I can't possibly divulge information about my clients," Corium said, turning to walk away from them towards the door. "I think it's time for you to leave now."
Blake took a quick step forward, his blue eyes blazing with anger.
"Don't you understand? This skin is from a murder victim."
"You have no evidence of that," Corium said, pulling open the door.
Jamie picked up a vial of chemicals from a bench next to the bookcase. She put the book of human skin next to it.
"What does this do?" she asked, waving the bottle. Corium's face fell as she pulled the stopper out and held it over the book.
Corium put his hands up in a gesture of supplication.
"No, please. That will burn the skin. It will ruin the book."
There was fear in his eyes, whether for the object itself or the person he made it for, Jamie didn't know. She tipped the bottle a little, splashing the bench next to the book. It made a sizzling sound and the smell of bitter berries filled the air.
"No!" Corium shouted, rushing across the room. Blake stepped in front of Jamie and pushed the man back, a rough shove in the middle of his thin chest.
"Tell us who the client is," Jamie said, holding the bottle over the book again.
Corium's body drooped, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I'll give you what I know," he said. "But it's not much." He walked to a filing cabinet in the corner and pulled out a thin cardboard file. "Here, that's everything. Now please, leave the book alone."
Blake checked the file quickly and nodded to Jamie. She put the stopper back in the bottle and put it down next to the book on the bench. Corium rushed to it, cradling the book to his chest like a precious child as he sank to the floor, sitting with his back to the bench as he watched them with hollow eyes.
Jamie pulled out the pages in the file. "There are regular payments here," she said with surprise. "How many of these have you done?"
"Six so far," Corium whispered. "But it's an ongoing contract. I'm expecting more skin in the next day or so and then I produce a book within the following month."
"There's barely any useful information here," she said. "Just a PO Box for the return address."
Blake pointed to the bottom of the page. "But the book is overdue for delivery, so maybe we can stake out the pickup?"
They turned back to Corium.
"Package it up," Jamie said. "We'll deliver it for you."
He clutched it to his chest.
"You don't understand," he said softly. "This is not a man you want to meet in person. He's not someone I want to cross, either. Please, don't do this."
Jamie walked over to him. "A friend of ours is missing," she said. "I don't want to see her skin on your bench." She held out her hands for the book. "If you won't package it, then I will. But we're taking the book."
Corium clutched it tighter. "He'll know if the package is done incorrectly," he whispered, his eyes darting around the room. "If you must take it, I'll do it for you."
He stood and placed the book gently on the bench, preparing the package and wrapping it in bubble wrap, then brown paper. A normal-looking parcel hiding a macabre object inside.
"There." He handed it to Jamie, his voice cold. "Now, get out."
"Gladly," Blake said, as they walked to the door and back out into the sunlight. Corium slammed the door behind them as they headed back along the Cut. Jamie held the package carefully in both hands.
"Did you get any sense of the person when you read?" she asked.
Blake shook his head. "Only the sheer terror of being chained up in what looked like an old abattoir – and the knowledge that the end was coming." He sighed. "I've felt that before. It's anticipation of the inevitable, but of course, those I read have not gone quietly or at peace."
"I'm sorry I involved you in this."
Blake reached out and pulled her to him. They stood for a moment in the sunlight, Blake's arms wrapped around her. Jamie relaxed into him, relishing the moment of connection.
"I'm not sorry," he said. "I want to help you, Jamie. And now I want to help O, too. The research I do at the museum doesn't change anything, but with you, I have the chance to make an impact on the living." He pulled away a little, looking down at her. "Now, let's go catch this crazy skin collector."
Jamie laughed and the moment lifted her spirits. She had begun to despair of finding O, but now they had a real lead. She wanted to call Missinghall and involve the police, but she knew that Blake's vision was inadmissible as evidence. Even if they raided Corium Jones' place, she now had the book of skin. It would take days to test and they would lose the chance to catch the collector when it was delivered.