Death Shall Come Page 2

  ‘Except among people like us,’ I said.

  He smiled briefly. ‘It’s our job to know the things that matter.’

  ‘How does this matter to the Organization?’ I said.

  The Colonel looked away for a moment, glancing round the Egyptian rooms, as he made up his mind about how much to tell me. When he finally spoke, he almost seemed to be addressing the exhibits rather than me.

  ‘George Cardavan runs a private security firm attached to Black Heir.’

  I nodded slowly. Black Heir is responsible for cleaning up after alien incursions. Hiding the truth, destroying evidence, and quietly gathering up any alien tech left behind. And then just as quietly selling it on the black market to those with an interest in reverse-engineering such things.

  I know that, because I used to work for them. Until we came to a sudden parting of the ways, when I found it necessary to disappear in a hurry because someone got the idea I might not be who or even necessarily what I claimed to be. Staying one step ahead of such people is what keeps me alive.

  ‘Cardavan’s firm provides warm bodies on the ground,’ said the Colonel, meeting my gaze squarely again. ‘Trained security personnel, to keep the public at a distance while Black Heir does its job.’

  ‘And make it all officially “Never Happened”,’ I said. ‘Nothing to see here, move along.’

  ‘Quite,’ said the Colonel. ‘Cardavan’s people stand in as police officers, regular army, private security guards. Whatever seems most plausible.’

  ‘Do they also perhaps provide strong-arm tactics on occasion?’ I said. ‘To lean on a journalist or intimidate a witness?’

  ‘It’s that kind of job, sometimes,’ said the Colonel. ‘Because sometimes it’s that kind of world.’

  ‘Men In Black …’

  ‘Are nothing more than urban legends,’ the Colonel said firmly. ‘If I might be allowed to continue …’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you.’

  ‘George Cardavan’s firm has a reputation for doing good, reliable work. Which means the Organization considers him a valuable asset.’

  ‘Are you saying he’s untouchable?’

  ‘No,’ said the Colonel. ‘Just that he’s not someone you want to accuse without good cause.’

  ‘Why are you taking such an interest in all this?’ I said.

  ‘Because even a man as successful as George Cardavan shouldn’t have been able to put up the kind of money it would take to buy a mummy this important,’ said the Colonel. ‘This goes well beyond bribing a few customs officials to look the other way. To smuggle a find this important out of Egypt and into Britain would take serious corruption in really high places. George might be successful these days, but not that successful. And his family haven’t had that kind of money in years. So how was he able to afford it? I have to wonder if he might be selling off Black Heir’s secrets – the location of alien crash sites, or what happened to the bodies. He might even be making private deals over alien technology. And some of the people involved in that can be very bad people.’

  ‘Is there any solid evidence to prove he’s been selling secrets, or tech?’

  ‘No,’ said the Colonel. ‘Nothing. That’s why I’m bringing you in. To get to the truth.’

  ‘Why are you so determined to keep this off the books?’ I said. ‘This sounds like a perfectly straight forward Organization case.’

  ‘Because I am married to George Cardavan’s daughter,’ said the Colonel.

  I nodded, as much became clear. ‘Are you afraid some of the scandal might rub off on you?’

  ‘No,’ said the Colonel. ‘My only fear is how it might affect my wife, Chloe. I can’t risk an official investigation until I’m sure of what’s happening. It’s always possible none of this has anything to do with selling secrets or tech. In which case, the Organization doesn’t need to know.’

  ‘But why come to me for help?’ I said. ‘Out of all the Organization agents you run? I haven’t worked for Black Heir in years. And it’s not as if you and I are friends or anything.’

  ‘Because I know I can rely on you to get to the truth of the matter,’ said the Colonel. ‘And because I know you know how to keep a secret.’

  I met his gaze steadily, but he had nothing more to say.

  ‘What if this does turn out to be something the Organization needs to know about?’ I said.

  ‘Then you and I will be right there on the spot and on the case, ready to do whatever needs doing.’

  ‘Regardless of how it affects the Cardavans?’

  ‘I know my duty,’ said the Colonel. ‘Well, now that you know as much as I do, are you still willing to take the case?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I already said yes.’

  The Colonel blinked a few times. ‘Just like that? No demands or conditions?’

  ‘Just that you’ll owe me one.’

  ‘Acceptable,’ said the Colonel. I thought for a moment he might smile or offer to shake hands, but he was immediately all business again. ‘There is to be a gathering of the family this weekend at Cardavan House. So George can show off his new acquisition to the only people he can trust to stay quiet about it. His immediate family.’

  ‘How many will be present?’ I said. ‘Anyone I need to know about?’

  ‘Just half a dozen or so. And no names you’d recognize. I will be there, of course, as Chloe’s husband. None of them know I work for the Organization.’

  ‘Not even your wife?’ I said.

  ‘What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her,’ said the Colonel. ‘She knows I used to work for Black Heir, because she still does. But as far as the Cardavans are concerned, I work for some suitably boring Government department.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘What’s my cover story?’

  ‘You will be attending the grand unveiling as my personal expert, there to give your unbiased opinion on the authenticity of the mummy. I’ve made no secret of my doubts on the matter.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about authenticating mummies!’

  ‘Then you’d better read up on the subject,’ said the Colonel. ‘Enough to sound like you know what you’re talking about, and buy the two of us time to discover what lies at the bottom of all this.’

  ‘We’ve never worked together before,’ I said.

  ‘And we won’t be, this time. Officially, that is. I shall talk to everyone in a suitably roundabout manner and sound them out on what they know. And while I’m keeping them all occupied, you will burgle George’s office. Break into his safe, search his desk, study his records. I need hard evidence before I can take any action.’

  ‘What if I get caught?’

  ‘Then I shall of course disavow all knowledge of your actions, and allow you to escape before the authorities arrive. You’ll just be some … plausible con man, who fooled me into vouching for you.’

  ‘You know I can’t afford to be identified,’ I said.

  ‘Then don’t get caught.’ The Colonel drew himself up to his full height, making it clear the conversation was over. ‘I have a limousine standing by to take you to Cardavan House. If you’ll just give me your current address …’

  He stopped, because I was already shaking my head. ‘Not going to happen. Just give me directions on how to find the place.’

  He nodded stiffly, then handed me an envelope. I thrust it inside my jacket without looking.

  ‘You always have to be your own man, don’t you?’ said the Colonel.

  ‘Always,’ I said. ‘It’s how I stay alive.’

  The Colonel turned on his heel with military precision, and strode off through the Egyptian rooms with his head held high. Very much the man in charge; even though he’d just been forced to beg for a favour from a subordinate. I considered making a rude gesture after him, but it would have felt too much like kicking a man when he was down. And I only do that when there’s no other way to win a fight. I waited till I was sure he was gone, and then raised my voice.

  ‘All right, you can com
e out now.’

  The lid on the standing sarcophagus slid jerkily to one side, and Penny Belcourt emerged from it with lissom grace. She smiled dazzlingly.

  ‘He really isn’t very observant, is he? And not terribly smart, thinking he could keep me out of this!’

  She struck a pose for me: Penny the part-time secret agent. A glamorous presence in her late twenties, she was all dark flashing eyes, trim figure, and enough nervous energy to run the London Underground for a month. She had a pretty face with good bone structure, and a mass of dark hair piled up on top of her head – somewhat flattened at the moment from having to hide inside a coffin too small for her. People were a lot shorter in Ancient Egypt. I blame the diet.

  ‘How long have you been in there?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, absolutely ages, darling! I followed your instructions and got here well in advance.’

  ‘How did you avoid being herded away with the others?’

  ‘I just waited till the cameras shut down, then stepped smartly inside the sarcophagus while the guards busied themselves clearing everyone out. They were all in such a hurry that no one noticed a thing.’ She beamed around her. ‘Why have I never been here before? I love mummies!’ Then she stopped and looked at me sharply. ‘Why did you agree to take the case? I mean it’s not official, you almost certainly won’t get paid, and you have no idea how much trouble you’ll be getting into.’

  ‘He needs my help,’ I said.

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Penny. ‘That is very sweet and very you, darling, but you must know he hasn’t told you everything. His kind never does. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it turned out to be some kind of trap. A chance to watch you in action close up, so he can figure out how you do what you do. And just maybe … find out what you really are.’

  ‘The best way to deal with a trap is to know you’re walking into one,’ I said. ‘I have no doubt it’ll all turn out to be a lot more complicated than the Colonel said. Families always are. So I shall just have to be even more careful than usual. If I had turned him down, you can be sure he’d be even more impossible to deal with in the future. And besides …’

  ‘He needs your help and you couldn’t say no.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said.

  ‘Every now and again, Ishmael, you remind me of why I love you so much.’ She kissed me thoroughly and then beamed around her. ‘I had no idea there was so much here. I love mummy films!’

  I couldn’t help smiling. ‘The real thing is very different from what you see in the movies. Ancient Egyptian mummies had all their insides taken out and were basically nothing more than empty shells. Most ended up as little more than glorified body bags with a stylized mask on top. So they couldn’t have gone walkabout anyway.’

  Penny looked at me. ‘I had no idea you were so well informed.’

  ‘I know something about everything,’ I said. ‘Comes with the job and the territory. I can’t take the movies seriously. The mummies always shuffle along so slowly they couldn’t catch a snail with a limp and a bad cough. And what makes them so strong, given that they’re just old dead things wrapped in bandages? I don’t believe in tanna leaves or mystical energies, or ancient sciences long lost to us.’

  Penny cut me off with a look. ‘You’ve never encountered a walking mummy?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘You won’t even accept the possibility of a reanimated mummy?’

  ‘Not going to happen,’ I said. ‘Not unless someone unzips one and stuffs it full of clockwork.’

  ‘I believe in some things just because I choose to,’ said Penny defiantly. ‘Because they make the world so much more interesting! Is there anything more romantic than reincarnated lovers trying to find each other again despite being separated for centuries? Old emotions blossoming in new hearts, souls scattered across time … I suppose you don’t believe in reincarnation either?’

  ‘I’ve never come across any evidence to support that theory,’ I said carefully. ‘And there’s nothing romantic about anything in this place. Tomb raiders are really nothing more than grave robbers. Even the ancient dead should have the right to be left to rest in peace, undisturbed.’

  ‘Given the sheer amount of weird shit you’ve bumped into and occasionally beaten up down the years, I never fail to be amazed by the strange gaps in what you’re prepared to accept,’ said Penny. ‘I still haven’t got over finding out you don’t believe in ghosts. Everybody believes in ghosts!’

  ‘I’m not everybody. I don’t believe in any form of risen dead.’

  ‘But … you killed a vampire!’

  ‘Could have been something that just acted like a vampire.’

  ‘Ishmael …!’

  ‘There is one thing I am sure of, and one thing only,’ I said firmly. ‘That dead is dead. In fact, the success of many of my missions has depended on things staying dead after I’ve killed them.’

  ‘But what if there are levels of death?’ Penny said cunningly.

  ‘If it isn’t completely dead, it isn’t dead.’

  Penny folded her arms and glared at me challengingly. ‘What is your position on the supernatural?’

  ‘No such thing,’ I said immediately. ‘There’s just the paranormal – extreme forms of science we don’t properly understand. Yet.’

  Penny shook her head. ‘Denial really isn’t just a river in Egypt.’

  ‘Sometimes I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I know!’

  I gestured expansively at the exhibits surrounding us. ‘There’s no denying the old-time Egyptians believed in some pretty weird stuff, but they were capable of surprisingly sophisticated thinking. They believed in a single god, Ra, centuries before Christianity. They also believed in the ka – the idea that the conscious mind, or soul, existed as a separate thing from the body. And that this disembodied consciousness could sometimes overwhelm a living mind and drive it out, so the ka could live on in a new body.’

  ‘Are we talking about possession?’ said Penny.

  ‘It’s a very old idea,’ I said.

  ‘What about the famous curse?’ said Penny, with the air of a card-player slapping down an ace. ‘Death shall come on swift wings … and all that?’

  ‘You mean the curse supposedly attached to Howard Carter and his team after they opened Tutankhamun’s tomb back in 1922? Complete nonsense. There were any number of investigations into those stories – both at the time and later – and while some people did die, it was always confirmed to be from natural causes. No suspicious circumstances, no signs of supernatural intervention. It was all just stories, Penny. Made up to sell newspapers and please a public fascinated by Egypt’s mysterious past.’

  ‘How do you know so much about it?’ said Penny, suspiciously.

  ‘I read,’ I said. ‘I have a lot of time to read, in my solitary life.’

  Penny stepped in close, and put a gentle hand on my cheek. ‘You know I’m with you as much as I can be, Ishmael. As much as you’ll let me.’

  ‘I know,’ I said.

  ‘You won’t let me get too close because you don’t want to put me in danger?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She stepped back and looked at me sternly. ‘You must stop trying to protect me! I am perfectly capable of looking after myself!’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘You’re afraid I might walk away and leave you alone again,’ said Penny. ‘Don’t be. I’m in this for the long haul.’

  What I thought but didn’t say was that one day I might have to leave her – by living on after she’d died. I have had to do that before, and it never gets any easier.

  ‘Why are you doing this, Ishmael?’ asked Penny, deliberately changing the subject. ‘I mean, really?’

  ‘It’s a chance to put the Colonel in my debt, against future need.’

  ‘Ah! That’s more like it!’

  ‘And because he needs my help.’

  ‘You’re too good for this world,’ said Penny.

  TWO


  In a Dark Place

  Cardavan House turned out to be a really long way from anywhere. After hours of hard driving, Penny and I were passing through open countryside so desolate and deserted it felt like another planet. We had the narrow country road all to ourselves as evening fell and the light dropped out of the world. I hadn’t seen a tree in ages, and wide empty fields had fallen away behind us, replaced by endless stretches of moorland. Too grim and grey even to make good grazing land, the moors lay flat and sullen under the darkening sky, occasionally interrupted by wet slumps of mire and stunted vegetation. A place where nothing lived because nothing wanted to.

  The road punched through bleak and empty land in a perfectly straight line, with no turn-offs for as far as the eye could see. As if our intended destination had decided to make itself inevitable. The street lights had chosen to stay behind when we left the last village, and the car pressed on through the gathering gloom in its own small pool of light. The only sound was the steady roar of the car’s engine. The radio had given up the ghost some time back, and I didn’t feel like playing any music. If something bad was heading our way, I wanted to be able to hear it coming.

  It felt like we’d left civilization behind, to come to a cold and empty place that wanted nothing to do with us.

  Penny was driving, because it was her car and she wanted to show off what it could do. She’d developed a taste for vintage cars, and was constantly trading in one model for another as her enthusiasms waxed and waned. Penny inherited a small fortune after both her parents were murdered, and seemed intent on throwing it all away as fast as possible. That was the first case we worked on together. I took down the killer, but not before a lot of people died. Penny never held that against me. But I did.

  Her latest pride and joy was a powder-blue Hillman Super Minx convertible. The engine roared like a caged beast every time she put her foot down, but after being stuck behind the wheel for so long Penny had run out of enthusiasm and now she just concentrated fiercely on the road ahead. I’d been glad to leave the city behind. Penny was an aggressive driver in traffic, disputing the right of way with taxis and buses – which was not something they were used to – and given to shouting ‘Get out of the bloody way!’ at anyone with the temerity to drive where she wanted to be. While I sank right down in my seat and pretended I wasn’t there.