“We may not have the experience,” said JC. “But we’re sneaky.”
“Oh we are,” said Happy. “Really. You have no idea.”
“Right,” said Melody, smiling in a really quite unpleasant way.
But Latimer was looking at JC thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you check in with the Institute before you started this case? You know that’s official procedure.”
“Because of Patterson,” said JC. “We all knew him, trusted him. Never liked the man, but we were all aware of his long service. And he was one of yours. We were used to hearing your words, from his lips. Never occurred to any of us that he might be speaking off his own bat.”
“Yes,” said Latimer. “He always was one of my favourites.”
“He called you ‘Grandmother,’” Happy pointed out.
“You should still have followed the official protocols,” said Latimer, ignoring Happy.
“It was an emergency,” said JC. “Not the first time we’ve been dropped into a case without a proper briefing, because there wasn’t the time.”
“I’m going to have to lay down some new guidelines,” said Latimer. “Backed up by heavy fines, demotions, and the threat of actual physical violence. It’s the only way to get anything done.”
“I have to ask,” said JC. “Don’t we have compacts, agreements, with… well, other Forces and Powers? Other organisations? People, and others, who operate in the same field as us, that we could turn to for help and support in an extreme situation like this?”
“We can’t talk to anyone about this!” Latimer said immediately. “If any of them were to discover that the Institute has become… compromised, they’d stop cooperating with us, stop sharing the kind of information we need to be able to do our job. And since we can’t know how deep or how far this infiltration has spread… we can’t risk sharing what we know with the wrong people. I won’t even be able to report all of what’s happened here at the next Summit Meeting.”
“Hold everything!” said JC. “The next Summit Meeting? This is the first I’ve heard about any Summit Meeting! Who, exactly, does the Carnacki Institute hold Summits with?”
“Yeah!” said Happy, annoyed at JC for getting in first.
“We hold a Summit twice every year, in neutral territory,” Latimer said calmly. “And you didn’t know because you didn’t need to know. The Institute meets with representatives from the Crowley Project and certain others. We’ve been holding these very cautious arm’s-length little get-togethers for many years. Because for all their bad intentions and very real threats to the world, the Project still needs a world to live on. Which means that sometimes we find ourselves on the same side, opposed to some Force or Entity that wants to destroy the world. Something too big for either of us to combat on our own. As you found out, when you teamed up with those two Project agents down in the Underground.
“A lot of groups and organisations, and certain vested interests, send delegates to the Summit Meetings. The Droods, the London Knights, the Regent of Shadows. Hadleigh Oblivion turned up one year, not long after he was made Detective Inspectre. Shadows Fall usually sends Old Father Time, but once we got Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat. We had to lock up all the silver cutlery. And the expensive wines. And send out for more food for the buffet. Damn, that Goat can put away pizza.” She stopped, to smile a surprisingly gentle smile. “Bruin Bear, on the other hand, was a real sweetie. I always loved his books, when I was a child.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” said JC. “I’m still not happy with these meetings being kept secret. What purpose do they serve?”
“Keep your enemies close and your friends closer,” said Latimer. “Because you always know where you are with your enemies… but your friends and allies can always surprise you.”
“So what do you talk about?” said Happy, actually bobbing up and down on the spot in excitement at discovering something even he hadn’t suspected.
“We have many things in common,” said Latimer, not giving an inch. “Enemies in common. Just like in the Underground. And I should point out that I am quite capable of reading between the lines of an official report and noting the points where you were deliberately vague or even evasive about what actually happened. The Summit… is necessary. To pool our resources, to share useful information. Of course, there’s always a certain amount of deliberate disinformation going on, from all sides, where we spread a little false information around, to see who’ll bite and who already knows better. The Summit has always served many purposes.”
“There is a theory,” said JC, carefully not even glancing in Happy’s direction, “that somebody, or perhaps some group of somebodies, really high up in… some organisation, did something they weren’t supposed to, and it all went horribly wrong. As a result of which, the barriers between the dimensions were weakened. And that was why the door was able to open, and The Flesh Undying was able to come through…”
“Or even,” said Happy, determined not to be left out, “that these somebodies opened the door deliberately, hoping Something would come through that they could control!”
“Rubbish,” said Latimer. “Never happened. I would know.”
“Yes, well,” Happy said darkly. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t push your luck, Palmer,” said Latimer.
“You didn’t know about Patterson,” said Melody, and Latimer had no answer to that.
“Enough,” said JC. “We’re talking in circles, and getting nowhere. It’s late… or really early. It’s cold, and I’m tired. Time to go home, boys and girls.” He turned to smile at the dead body. “Sorry we’ve kept you waiting so long, Kim. It’s all right-you can come out now. Kim?”
There was no response from the dead man. Nothing to indicate there was anyone at home behind the unseeing eyes. JC strode up to Patterson, and thrust his face right into the dead man’s.
“Kim! Come out of there! You’ve held the fort long enough. There’s no way the rider’s going to come back now!”
There was still no response. JC grabbed the front of Patterson’s tattered jacket, took two great handfuls, and shook the dead man hard. The dead head lolled limply on its shoulders, rolling back and forth as though mocking him. The dead knees buckled, and the dead man crashed to the ground, the weight pulling JC down with it, for all his attempts to hold the corpse upright. JC bent over Patterson, still shaking him violently, screaming into the dead and unresponsive face.
“Kim! Stop messing around! You come out of there right now! Do you hear me! Kim!”
Happy and Melody stood close beside him but had enough sense not to interfere. There was as much anger as fear in his voice, and there was no telling who he might lash out at.
“JC,” said Happy, “she’s not in there. There’s no-one in there. The body is empty.”
“You’re wrong!”
“I’m not wrong, JC. If she were there, I’d be able to See her. No-one’s there.”
“You’ve got to be wrong…”
JC finally let go of the dead man and threw him away. Patterson lay sprawling on his back, staring up at the night sky with indifferent, empty eyes. JC sat down suddenly, as all the strength went out of his legs. He looked tired and confused and utterly bereft.