Jeff said, â
Yesssss
!' and clenched his fist.
Ruth introduced Martin. âMartin's come down from Chicago, to help with Ammy's therapy.'
Detective Magruder and Detective Garnet shook his hand and said, âPleased to meet you, sir. Any friend of Ruth's . . .'
âHave you been out to Weatherfield Stables yet?' Ruth asked them.
âYes, we did,' said Detective Magruder. âJack's still out there, along with Val Minelli. You never saw anything like it in your life.' He nodded his head toward Martin and said, âIs it all right if we talk about this now?'
âAbsolutely,' Ruth assured him. âMartin's been helping us to make sense of all this. But Ammy, sweetheart â why don't you take your pie upstairs to your room? I don't think you want to hear any of this horrible stuff.'
âI saw Tyson on fire, didn't I?' Amelia protested.
âYes you did, and I wish you hadn't. I don't want you having nightmares.'
âTyson's coming back,' Amelia told Detective Magruder, with complete confidence.
âOh, really? Well â I guess that dogs have souls, too, don't they?'
âNo, they don't. But he's still coming back.'
âAmmy, please,' said Ruth. âI need to talk to Detective Magruder without you being here. There's a good girl.'
âO-
K
,' sighed Amelia, and picked up her plate and went upstairs.
âShe's such a character,' said Detective Garnet.
âOh, she's much more than that,' Martin put in. âShe's a genuine sensitive. Because of her William's Syndrome, she can pick up all kinds of disturbances in the atmosphere that none of the rest of us are aware of. If anybody can help us to find out who's been causing all of these fires, then she can.'
Detective Magruder said, â
Amelia
? You really think so?'
âI've been having some of the same feelings myself, but nothing like as clearly as Ammy. Did you hear her, just now? She said that somebody had whispered “Andie's ashes” in her ear, but none of the rest of us heard it. She's amazing.'
âSit down,' said Ruth. âTell me about Nadine Gardner. Do you have any idea what happened?'
Detective Garnet sat down and took out her notebook. âA KPD patrol car answered a nine-one-one call and went out to Weatherfield Riding Stables on Isaac Walton Road, where they found Mr Charles Gardner, the owner of the stables, in a state of severe shock. He said that he had been turning into his driveway when a horse and rider had come galloping toward him, both of them blazing, and had collided with his SUV.
âHorse and rider were both explosively dismembered by the impact. Mr Gardner said it was like a bomb going off. There were pieces of both horse and rider scattered over a thirty-foot area, but Mr Gardner found a human forearm lying on the driveway close to his SUV and it was wearing a silver charm bracelet that he and his wife had given to their daughter Nadine to celebrate her graduating from vet college.'
âOh, God,' said Ruth. âI met Nadine quite a few times at charity horse shows. She was
such
a sweet girl.'
Detective Garnet flipped over a page, and then said, âThe attending officers went to the Gardner house where they interviewed the housemaid Cora Wilkins and the handyman Duncan Scruggs. Neither of them had seen or heard anything prior to the collision between Nadine Gardner and her horse and Mr Gardner's SUV.
âThe attending officers then went to the stable-block where they found that seven out of a total of eighteen horses had been slaughtered by having their throats cut open. There were bloody handprints all over the horses' stalls and the officers also discovered a large bloodstained knife which was almost certainly the weapon used to kill them. We're still waiting for a fingerprint match, but there was no indication that anybody apart from Nadine Gardner was present in the stable-block at that time, and the handprints were described by the attending officers as “small, likely to be female”.
âIncidentally, they found all of Nadine Gardner's clothes on the floor of the stable, including her underwear, so it was likely that she was naked at the time of the incident.'
Ruth slowly shook her head. âSo it looks like Nadine killed seven of her family's horses and then somehow climbed up on to another one and set fire to the both of them?'
âLooks that way, on the face of it.'
âWas there any stress between Nadine and her family? Anything that might have triggered this off?'
âNot that her father and mother can think of. They both say that Nadine seemed to be blissfully happy. Her whole life was horses, and riding, and she loved working for the stables. She had no other issues that they could think of. No boyfriend trouble because she didn't have a steady boyfriend. No drug problems, no drink problems, no psych problems. Nothing to explain why she would have flipped like that.'
â
But
?' said Martin.
Ruth turned to him, and Martin said, âI'm sorry, but I sense a “but”.'
âWell, you're right,' said Detective Magruder. âThere is a “but”. When I interviewed Charles Gardner he said that what had happened was “just like the Flying X”. I didn't know what he meant, but of course he's in the horse business so he knew all about it. It seems like, three years ago, a young woman who worked for a riding stables outside of Scottsdale, Arizona, did almost exactly the same thing. She cut the throats of seven horses and then she set the stables alight. She suffered seventy-five per cent burns and died in hospital about four days later.'
Detective Garnet said, âAfter we'd finished up at the Gardner place we went back to headquarters and checked with the Scottsdale PD. They sent us a PDF file on the Flying X. Before she died, the young woman gave the police a statement. She alleged that she had been kept as a virtual prisoner at the riding stables and repeatedly abused by its owner and his two grown-up sons, who were both in their twenties. She had slaughtered their horses and set fire to their stables as an act of revenge.'
âSo what happened to the owner and his sons?'
âNothing,' said Detective Garnet. âThere was no evidence against them, and no witnesses, apart from the owner's thirteen-year-old son, who told police that his father and his brothers had treated the young woman “mean”. However, the boy was evaluated by a police psychiatrist and judged to have a very low IQ, and to be prone to making up fantastic stories.'
Martin had been listening to all of this attentively, with his hand pressed over his mouth. But now he sat up straight and said, âI thought so. Just like I told you, it was a ritual sacrifice.'
âExcuse me?' said Detective Magruder.
âThat young woman in Scottsdale, whoever she was, she died of her burns, but she still had unfinished business in the world of the living. What she did â cutting those horses' throats, setting fire to herself â it all had to be re-enacted so that her pain would finally be over and she could find peace.'
âA ritual sacrifice?' Detective Magruder repeated. He glanced at Detective Garnet and raised his eyebrows. âI see.'
âI don't really expect you to understand what I'm talking about,' said Martin. âEven if you do, I don't expect you to go along with it. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you've given me the confirmation that I've been looking for, that certain PMVs are coming back from the Ninth Circle of Hell, and that they're playing out the circumstances in which they died.'
âSo that they can find peace?' said Detective Magruder. Ruth had to admire the way that he kept any hint of sarcasm out of his voice.
âYou got it,' said Martin. âAll they want is to end their agony, and go back into the darkness, and they don't care what they do or who they hurt. Let's put it this way: if you were suffering unbearable pain â all day, every day â with no prospect of it ever ending, would
you
care what it took to relieve it? Would you care if some stranger died, so long as it stopped?'
âI'm not too sure I'm following any of this,' said Detective Magruder. âBut don't get me wrong, I want to find out who's causing these fires, and why, and I don't have any preconceptions about any of the evidence that we've collected so far, because so far it doesn't amount to a hill of mixed beans.'
Ruth said, âYou're right, Ron. All of these fires have been pyrotechnically inexplicable, and none of them bears any relation to any of the others. So far, Martin's explanation is the only one we have. And I have to tell you that I've seen these post-mortem visitations for myself, these PMVs. I have, and Amelia, and Martin, and Doctor Beech, too.'
She told the detectives about the Liébault session. While she did so, Detective Garnet frowned at her intently, as if she wanted to tell Ruth that she had a speck of spinach on her front tooth, but didn't want to interrupt; while Detective Magruder constantly cleared his throat and jiggled his left leg.
âWell,' said Detective Magruder, when she had finished by telling them how Tyson had been burned to death. âStranger than fiction, huh? Gee-whiz. I don't really know what to say.'
âIs there any way you can check on Pimo Jackson?' Ruth asked him. âHe should still be in prison, right? They gave him eleven consecutive life sentences, after all.'
Detective Magruder jotted a note in his notebook. âSure, I'll check on him for you. But if he's only a talking mask I don't think you have too much to worry about.'
Ruth said, âRon, this is serious! I know it sounds totally crazy, but it really happened and we all saw it.'
âCorrect me if I'm wrong, Ruth, but you saw what was going on inside of Amelia's and Martin's heads. A whole lot goes on inside of
my
head, too, but that doesn't make it real. If it did, you wouldn't be able to see me for the crowds of lap-dancers all around me.'
âYour lap-dancers don't set fire to your drapes,' Ruth retorted. âAnd your lap-dancers don't bring some creepy kid along with them â a boy who burns your dog to death.'
âLike I've been telling you right from the beginning,' said Martin, âthe boy is the key. He's the catalyst, the fire starter. He's the angel of death.'
âBut if he burned up when Tyson burned up, that's the end of him, right?'
âHe was probably burned up years ago,' Martin told him. âHe died, and he was properly cremated, but he keeps coming back. He left his ashes at the clinic, and Ruth tells me that she found similar ashes at all the other fires, so the chances are that they
all
belong to him.'
âThat sounds like one hell of a lot of ashes,' said Detective Magruder. âExactly how big
was
this kid?'
Martin said, âHe only
looks
like the same kid. But each time he reappears, he's somebody else, another PMV. That's what I think, anyhow. I may be wrong. But as far as I can work out, that's the only way he can be constantly reincarnated, in the flesh, and leave so many ashes when he burns up.'
âAll right then, answer me something else. Why is he appearing
here
, in Kokomo? That Flying X business was in Arizona.'
âDon't ask me. But from what Professor Solway says, hell is everywhere and nowhere, both at the same time. I don't think PMVs have the same sense of location as we do. The only place they know is pain.'
âOK.' Detective Magruder tucked his notebook into his inside pocket. âSo what do you think we ought to do now? Any suggestions?'
âI'm not sure. There's no pattern to these fires, so we can't predict where the Creepy Kid is going to strike next. Somehow we have to close off the way through from hell, and I'm not at all sure how we're going to do that. Or even if we can.'
âRuth?' asked Detective Magruder.
Ruth said, âThat's something we'll have to put our minds to, isn't it? How do you close off the way through from hell when you don't even know if it exists, or even if it
does
exist, where to find it? But â sure â we'll give it a try.
âThat doesn't mean that Jack and I won't be carrying on with all of our routine computer models and all of our forensics. Maybe these fires
do
have some supernatural cause, but I still want to understand the science behind them. Even if it's weird science.'
âOK,' said Detective Magruder. âWe'll catch you tomorrow, right? Don't have too many bad dreams. Personally, I think I'm going to.'
The two detectives left. Ruth and Martin sat down together and Ruth poured them both another glass of wine. Upstairs, Ruth could hear Amelia singing one of her songs.
â
I knew the rain would come before the morning
I knew that he would leave before it came
.'
âI should be going after this,' said Martin.
âYou can stay over if you want to.'
âNo, thanks all the same. I sense that your husband doesn't altogether approve of me. Besides, I need to do some serious thinking about how we can close the way through, and that means I have to pace up and down, and maybe make some phone calls, too.'
âDo you believe it's possible? Do you think we
can
close the way through?'
âI have no idea. I don't have any real conception of what it is, or
where
it is, or what it looks like â if it looks like anything at all. It might be a shining archway, or a mirror, or a window. It might be nothing more than a thin slit between two walls, or a crack between two floorboards. Even if we do manage to find it, I don't have any idea how to seal it off. There's no instruction manual â
How To Keep The Living Dead Out Of Your House.
'