‘Amen,’ repeated Jenny.
Nightingale looked up at the ceiling. ‘We’re here to talk to Robbie Hoyle,’ he said. ‘Robbie, are you there? Please, talk to us.’
The planchette twitched under their fingers.
‘Robbie, is that you?’
The candle flames simultaneously bent away from the stairs as if a draught was blowing from the door.
‘We want to talk to Robbie Hoyle,’ said Nightingale, raising his voice. ‘Robbie, are you there?’
The planchette scraped across the board and pointed at the word YES.
Nightingale cleared his throat. His mouth had gone suddenly dry.
‘Robbie, we need to talk to you about my sister,’ he said.
The planchette gradually moved back to its original position.
‘Abersoch,’ whispered Jenny. ‘Ask him why he sent you to Wales.’
Nightingale flashed her a warning look to keep quiet. ‘Robbie, this is Jack. I’m here with Jenny. We want to talk to you about my sister. Can you talk to us?’
The planchette slid over to YES again, then moved purposefully back to the middle of the board.
‘Robbie, can you tell-’ Before Nightingale could finish, the planchette slid purposely upwards and pointed at the letter Y. As soon as it reached the bottom of the Y it jerked to the left and settled on the letter O. Then in quick succession it touched U and R.
‘Your,’ said Jenny. She shivered and looked around the basement. ‘Can you feel a draught?’ she asked.
Nightingale nodded. There was a cold breeze blowing from the far end of the basement, even though there were no doors or windows there. The candle flames began to flicker.
Nightingale opened his mouth to speak but, before he could say anything, the planchette started to move again, touching six letters one after the other: S-I-S-T-E-R.
‘Your sister,’ said Jenny.
Nightingale didn’t look at her. The planchette had already started to move again.
I-S. It stopped briefly and then moved on. G-O-I-N-G.
‘Is going,’ said Jenny. ‘Going where?’
Nightingale’s eyes widened. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach because he knew without a shadow of a doubt what was coming.
The planchette stayed where it was for several seconds and then it began to move. Nightingale could feel his fingers pressing down on the pointer as if they were trying of their own accord to stop it from moving.
‘Jenny, you’re not…?’
Jenny shook her head fiercely, her eyes fixed on the planchette as it continued to slide across the board.
T-O. It hesitated for a few more seconds, but Nightingale already knew where it was going next. It headed towards the H.
‘No!’ he said. He took his hand off the planchette but it carried on moving, this time towards the E. ‘Leave it, Jenny!’ he shouted.
Jenny looked at him, confused.
‘Let go of it!’ yelled Nightingale.
He reached over and grabbed her arm. He pulled it away and she let go of the planchette. They both stared wide-eyed as it carried on moving. It stopped over the letter E for less than a second and then started to slide towards the L.
‘What’s happening, Jack?’ asked Jenny
Nightingale stood up, grabbed the board and threw it against the wall. As it crashed to the floor, the candles blew out and Jenny screamed.
25
N ightingale reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his lighter. He flicked it with his thumb and a small flame sputtered into life.
Jenny was sitting on her chair, her hands either side of her face as she stared at him in horror. She jumped out of her chair and grabbed Nightingale’s arm. ‘Get me out of here,’ she said, her voice trembling.
‘It’s okay,’ he said.
‘It’s not okay!’ she shouted. ‘Get me out of here now!’
Her outburst stunned him for a moment but then he took her with his left hand and guided her to the stairs. He kept the lighter in his right hand as he went up the stairs with her, but before he had got halfway the flame was burning his thumb and he let it go out. Jenny screamed again and he clicked the lighter despite the pain. The lighter sparked and then the flame flickered, casting shadows over the walls as he pushed her up the stairs ahead of him. She threw open the panel and staggered into the hallway. Nightingale followed her. He put the lighter in his pocket and tried to hold her but she thrust him away.
‘What happened down there, Jack?’
Nightingale shrugged but didn’t say anything.
‘Was that Robbie?’ asked Jenny.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Some other spirit?’
‘I don’t know, Jenny. Maybe.’
‘And you knew what they were saying, didn’t you? That’s why you tossed the board.’
‘It was a message that I’ve seen before.’
‘It spelled out something about your sister, didn’t it? Your sister is going to- To what, Jack? What is your sister going to do?’
‘Jenny, please…’
‘To Hell? Is that it? Your sister is going to Hell. Is that what it was trying to say?’
Nightingale nodded.
‘And when did you see it before? The messages you told me about before your birthday said you were going to Hell, right? Now they’re talking about your sister? Is that it?’
‘Now’s not the time, Jenny.’ He was sweating and he wiped his face with his sleeve.
‘Don’t shut me out!’ she shouted. ‘Damn you, Jack. You can’t half involve me in this. It’s all or nothing. There are no half measures.’
Nightingale sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t. I want the truth, not an apology. I want to know why you tossed the board when you did.’
‘Because it wasn’t Robbie. He wouldn’t have said that. Somebody or something else was using the board.’
‘And the wind? Where did that come from? And why did the candles blow out?’
Nightingale put his hands on her shoulders and this time she didn’t push him away. He looked into her eyes. ‘I don’t know, kid. I’m sorry.’
Her eyes burned into his. ‘Where did you hear that before? The message?’
Nightingale took his hands off her shoulders and put them in his pockets. ‘When I went to see Connie Miller.’
‘She wrote it?’
‘She said it.’
Jenny frowned. ‘You said that she was dead when you got there.’
‘That’s the thing,’ said Nightingale. ‘She was.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?’
‘She was dead but her eyes opened and the words came out.’
Jenny slumped against the panelled wall. Nightingale tried to steady her but she pushed his hands away. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said.
‘It just happened,’ he said. ‘But I couldn’t tell anyone. How could I explain that a dead woman spoke to me? They’d think I was crazy. Or lying.’
‘And she said that your sister was going to Hell?’
Nightingale nodded. ‘And when I went back the same words were written on her bathroom wall. At least I thought they were. Maybe I imagined it.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘I couldn’t,’ he said. ‘Not on top of everything that’s happened. And deep down, I wondered if it was just my mind playing tricks.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And Alfie Tyler wrote the same words before he killed himself.’
‘How do you know that? You said you were stuck outside the gates.’
‘Chalmers showed me a crime-scene photograph.’
‘And he did… what? He wrote it how? He left a note?’
Nightingale looked uncomfortable. ‘Just leave it, Jenny.’
‘I can’t leave it. This involves me. Chalmers had me in for questioning, remember?’
‘Okay, he wrote it across his bedroom mirror. In faeces — shit.’
‘I know what faeces are,’ she said. ‘He used that to write on the mirror?’