Watchers, you mean? The Branch? (A mental shake of the other's head). Not that I've detected. Maybe a tentative touch now and then, but nothing you could nail down.
Nothing concentrated anyway. If they have people up here, then they're too good for me. And I'm pretty damn good!
No static? Paxton, maybe?
I don't feel any static. Distantly, maybe, but nothing local. As for Paxton: I'm sure I'd be able to pick him up twenty miles away. And you?
Just an… experience, Harry answered. In Darlington.
Darlington? (The Necroscope could almost see the other's eyebrows going up.) Now there's a coincidence! And did you find any Johnnies in Darlington?
Harry was intrigued. Two, he replied. And one of them a real-life 'Johnny'. That's how he spells his name, anyway: Johnny Courtney. The other is called John Found.
And now he pictured Jordan's grim nod as the telepath said: Yes, and Dragosani was a foundling, too, wasn't he?
Harry said, Is that supposed to mean something? He knew it was.
Better believe it! Jordan confirmed.
See you outside the Laird's Larder, Harry told him. Five minutes…
He waited out the five minutes in a fever of anticipation, then made it six to be sure Jordan had got there, and finally Möbius-tripped to the steep, cobbled road just off the Royal Mile. He emerged from the Continuum on a crowded, bustling pavement where tourists and locals alike were clustered like bees in a hive, jostling and filled with purpose as they went about their various businesses. No one noticed that Harry was suddenly there; people loomed everywhere, from every direction, side-stepping each other; the Necroscope was just another face in the crowd.
Jordan was in the doorway of the Laird's Larder. He spotted Harry, grabbed his elbow and guided him off the street into the shade. Harry was glad of that, for the sun was out and it had grown to be more than a mere irrritation. He now actively hated it. 'Buy three sandwiches,' he told the telepath. 'Steak for me and rare as they've got it, whatever you like for yourself, and anything with plenty of bread around it for the third. OK?'
Mystified, Jordan nodded and went to the busy counter. He ordered, was served, and came back to Harry where he waited. Harry took his arm, said, 'Close your eyes,' and ushered him through a Möbius door. To anyone watching it would look as if they just stepped out of the coffee shop into the street. Except they didn't arrive in the street. Instead, a moment later, they emerged two miles away by the lake on the crest of the vast volcanic outcrop called Arthur's Seat. There was an empty bench where they sat down and ate a while in silence, and Harry tore up the third sandwich into small pieces which he fed to the ducks and a lone swan that came paddling to the feast.
And eventually the Necroscope said, 'Tell me about it.' But Jordan answered, 'You first. What's all this about an "experience" in Darlington? You sounded like something had worried you, Harry. Something other than finding a couple of suspect Johnnies, that is. I mean, tracking this maniac down is important — no one would deny that — but there's such a thing as personal safety, too. So you'd better tell me, are there going to be problems?'
'Oh, yes,' Harry answered. 'And soon. Something inside tells me that not even Darcy Clarke can do anything about that. But that's not what this was about.' And as best he could he explained what he had felt, and told Jordan how his mother had reacted to the death of a small dog.
'You think someone died this morning? Any idea who?' Harry shook his head. 'Someone cried out to me, that's all. I think so, anyway.'
'And your deadspeak? Can't you… make inquiries?'
Harry gave a wry snort. 'The Great Majority don't want to know me,' he answered. 'Not now. Not any longer. I can't say I blame them.' He shrugged, then brightened a little. 'On the other hand, if someone did die and still wants to contact me, then pretty soon he'll be able to do just that.'
'Oh?'
'Through deadspeak,' Harry explained. 'Except he'll have to contact me in person, for I wouldn't know where to start looking. And it will have to be by night. During the daylight hours the sun interferes too much. If not for this hat of mine I'd be in trouble. Even with the hat I feel tired, sick, unable to think straight. There were a few clouds earlier but they're clearing. And the brighter it gets the duller I get!' He stood up and threw the last handful of crumbs on to the surface of the lake between the crags. 'Let's get out of here. I could use some shade.'
They took the Möbius route to the gloomy old house on the outskirts of Bonnyrig, then telepathically probed the countryside all around. 'Nothing,' Jordan declared, and Harry agreed.
And finally: 'All right.' The Necroscope threw off his hat and sprawled gratefully in an easy chair. 'Now it's your turn. Just what did you discover up there at the Castle? I can tell that something's excited you.'
'You're right.' Jordan grinned. 'It was my chance to pay you back, Harry, for what you've done for me. For my life, my resurrection. My God, I'm alive, and I know how wonderful it is! So I wanted things to work out. You could say I almost willed it to happen, and it did.'
'You think you've found our man, or monster?' Harry leaned forward eagerly in his chair.
'I'm pretty sure I have,' the telepath answered. 'Yes, I'm pretty damn sure!'
3 Johnny… Found
'I showed my E-Branch ID at the guardroom.' Jordan commenced his story. 'And told them I was investigating the death of the girl who was found under the walls. I said we'd had our wires crossed the first time, because she wasn't who we'd thought she was, which was why we were looking into it again from square one.
The squaddies on duty had read all about it in the newspapers, and anyway I wasn't the first investigator they'd seen. Not even the first today. They told me that in fact there were already two plain-clothes men in the castle, down in the sergeants' mess. That piece of information stopped me dead for a second or two while I considered it, but then I thought what the hell? For after all, I was E-Branch… wasn't I? Well, I had been until very recently. Anyway, I never had any problem dealing with the law. In fact the police had always shown me, and E-Branch in general, a lot of respect. And vice versa.
'So I asked directions to the Warrant Officers' and Sergeants' mess and made my way there.
'Edinburgh Castle is a massive place, the greater part of which is never even glimpsed by the tourists and general public. Your average tourist knows that the Castle Esplanade is where they hold the Edinburgh Tattoo — with room to build a stadium of eight thousand seats, royal boxes and all, and a hard-standing that takes the military's massed bands, motorcycle and other vehicular displays, shows from all around the world, you name it — but the vast stone complex beyond Mons Meg, the One O'Clock Gun, and Ye Olde Tea Shoppe (or whatever it is they've named that cafe in the crag) remains a mystery to most people. And where the way is roped off, that's where the real Castle begins. But you've been there, Harry, and know what it's like: a maze of alleys and gantlets and courtyards… a fantastic place! And one that's easy to lose your way in.
'Eventually I found the Sergeants' mess and the two Jock plain-clothes officers, who were talking to a Sergeant Cook and his civilian assistants and jotting down a few notes. I showed my ID and asked if I could sit in on their questioning, and they didn't bat an eyelid between them. They knew how the Branch — in the shape of Darcy Clarke and yourself, Harry — had been helping out with the job.