‘But in times of crisis, we should forget about personal ill-feeling and work together for our common protection. This is just such a time of crisis, and that’s why I’ve increased my reward. Not a single more innocent life must be lost. Not one more child must be injured. I want to see every member of Dar Tariki Tariqat arrested, tried, and sent to Death Row.’
Eight
Nevile Strange arrived nearly an hour late. He was driving a black Mercedes saloon, which was at least fifteen years old but very highly waxed. The day was strangely overcast, a dull lavender color, and there were distant grumbles of thunder from the San Gabriel mountains. Nevile climbed out of his car wearing a black suit and a black shirt, relieved only by a red poppy in his buttonhole.
‘Sorry, Frank. They wanted me to take a look at the crime scene at Universal Studios.’
‘Bad, huh?’
Nevile looked at him and nodded and the expression in his eyes told it all.
‘Did you pick up anything?’ Frank asked him. ‘Any of those . . . psychic imprints?’
‘A great deal of shock. A great deal of pain. It was a little too soon to make sense of it all.’
‘You’re sure you want to go through with this séance today? We could always postpone it.’
Nevile shook his head. ‘No . . . it’ll do me good to focus on something else. There were so many voices . . . so much chaos.’
Frank led Nevile up the driveway and showed him into the house. As he stepped into the wide, oak-boarded hallway, he stopped and looked around, almost as if he could smell something unusual.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Oh, yes. Everything’s fine.’ But he stayed where he was, turning his head this way and that, and keeping one finger raised, as if he were listening.
‘Danny was your only child?’ he said at last. ‘That’s what you told me, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Odd,’ said Nevile.
‘Odd in what way?’
‘I can distinctly feel another departed presence here, apart from Danny’s.’
‘What kind of a presence?’
‘It’s hard to say, exactly. A very elusive presence. One that’s trying to stay out of sight, psychically speaking. I don’t know if it’s a man or a woman, or a child. Maybe a child, the way it’s playing hide-and-go-seek.’
‘The couple who lived here before us – their daughter died when she was eighteen months.’
‘Well, maybe it’s her. Little children can be very mischievous spirits.’
Frank showed him through to the living room. Lynn was already there, sitting on the couch, shoeless, talking to Margot. On the white coffee table in front of them, on either side of a tall vase of lilies, stood two framed photographs, one of Kathy and one of Danny, both of them smiling. Kathy was missing her two front teeth.
‘Nevile, this is my wife, Margot, and this is Lynn Ashbee. How about a drink? I guess you could use one.’
‘A Pernod if you have one, Frank, or a Ricard. There’s something about the taste of aniseed that clears the perceptions.’
‘Nevile was over at Universal City,’ Frank explained. ‘The police wanted him to see what kind of psychic vibrations he could pick up.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Lynn. She was looking very pallid, almost gray, with no makeup and her hair scraped back in a ponytail. A light green turtleneck did nothing to give her any color. ‘Oh my God, it must be dreadful.’
‘Yes,’ said Nevile. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘They still have no idea who these people are, these terrorists?’ asked Margot. She was dressed all in white, a loose silk top with a Chinese collar and flowing silk pants.
Nevile said, ‘Not yet. The official line is that they’re some kind of offshoot of Al Qaeda, but it’s impossible to say. They gave me the bomber’s sunglasses to hold, or what was left of them, and I must say they gave me a very confusing message.’
‘His sunglasses gave you a message?’ asked Margot.
‘That’s right. When something really stressful happens to you, your personal possessions often absorb your psychic resonance. Your sunglasses, your jewelry, your combs, your shoes – even your clothes. I’ve been able to locate missing people through a purse, or a wristwatch, or a piece of torn dress material. I suppose you could say that I’m rather like a bloodhound. Let me sniff the psychic scent and I can follow it.’
‘And these sunglasses?’
‘I don’t know. I sensed anger, and frustration, but a lack of self-confidence, too. Strangely enough – considering these people are supposed to be Arabs – I felt a fervent Christian evangelism, too – almost fanatical.’
‘Maybe he’d converted. People do, don’t they?’
Frank brought Nevile a glass of Ricard. ‘Please, sit down.’
Nevile took a sip of his drink and then sat down. Lynn said, ‘Can I just ask you one question?’
‘Of course. You’re going to ask me if Kathy will be aware that you’re trying to get in touch with her.’
‘Yes . . . well, yes. How did you know that?’
Nevile smiled at her, reached across the coffee table and held her hand. ‘First of all you have to understand that everybody has the potential to do what I do. You do, Lynn, and you do, Margot, and Frank, you do too. Psychic sensitivity is nothing special, it’s a mental ability that we’re all born with, but not many of us ever develop it to its full potential.’
‘You mean that if I practiced enough, I could get in touch with Kathy any time I wanted?’
‘Yes, pretty much. Of course there are times when it’s easier to communicate with spirits than others, and there are some places where you can get better reception than others – especially places that Kathy was familiar with, like her own bedroom.’
Margot said, ‘I have to admit that I’m more than a little scared.’
Nevile turned around and took hold of her hand, too. ‘There’s no need to be frightened. Danny may have passed over, but he’s still Danny. The only scary spirits are the spirits of people who were scary when they were alive.’
Frank said, ‘I can ask Danny questions? He’ll be able to hear me?’
‘It depends. He passed over only very recently, and passing over is always a tremendous shock. It can take days or weeks for a spirit to understand that he or she is no longer living in the physical world. Some spirits go on for years and still can’t accept that they’re dead.’
‘All right, then,’ said Frank. ‘What do we have to do?’
‘You don’t have to hold hands. You don’t have to close your eyes, although some people find that it helps them to concentrate. All you have to do is think about Danny and Kathy, and imagine them the way they were the very last time you saw them. That’s a very potent emotional image. Look at their photographs, and try to believe that they’re still with us, not in the flesh, maybe, but in our minds.’
Lynn said, ‘How will we know when you’ve gotten in touch?’
‘It can happen in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes the spirits are very subtle, and contact us through signs and hints and coded suggestions. For instance you might suddenly become aware of a smell that reminds you of a time you spent together, and at the same time the radio will be playing their favorite song.
‘Other times, though, they can speak quite clearly, so that you can hear their voices. And, very occasionally, they become visible. Only very rarely, however. It takes a very high degree of psychic sensitivity to be able to see somebody who has passed over.’
‘You mean they actually appear?’ asked Frank. ‘Like ghosts?’