The Grotesques (6 page)

“Please come.” Genord led the way up to the nave.

“Ella is helping me with my research.”

“Of course.”

Adam must have caught the amused tone, because he added, “She’s working on an article on bats to help allay the public’s fears.”

“Naturally, you came to observe the bats. Where did you leave your equipment? Perhaps I could be of assistance in positioning it. There are a great many stairs to the top of the tower.”

In the brighter light of the church, struck by the intelligent glint in the caretaker’s eyes, Ella was sure Genord was hiding a great deal.

“I was hoping to check the layout and come back later this evening, when the bats are active.”

“I regret that is impossible. Recent events have left the church open to wild accusations. Whenever an institution stands for righteousness, there will be those who seek to defame it. History has taught us as much. I have opted to avoid slanderous tales by closing the church at dusk on weekdays.”

“I see.”

“I’m very glad you do. Now, Miss Jerome, would you care to peruse Romain’s work? It will, I am sure, convince you what a fine craftsman he is.”

He led them to the rear of the church, where a staircase led up to the gallery which ran along the length of the nave.

“Romain has an interesting name. What nationality is he?” Ella enquired.

“He travelled with me from France. Alas, since his French is as limited as his English, he has not been able to communicate the details of his life. It is lucky for me he is supremely skilled with a mallet and lucky for him I have need of a mason.”

“And you? Where are you from? I can’t quite place your accent.” It certainly held no trace of French.

“I am of no particular place, Miss Jerome, as this church is of no particular faith.”

“Originally, though, Mr. Genord, you were born with citizenship even if you later chose to renounce it.”

“I know it is the habit of journalists to persist, so I will not count your discarding my answer as rude. I am not originally from anywhere, and I regard myself as a citizen of the world.”

Ella tightened her lips. Journalists persisted, but only crooks evaded. The more she spoke to Genord, the more she became convinced he and his church warranted further investigation.

“Let us proceed.”

They continued until they were standing in front of the fresco. A door had been incorporated into the wall, its edges barely discernible.

“You must watch your step, of course,” Genord said as he inserted an ornate key, opened the door, and gestured her in. For an institution supposed to preach trust, Ella thought there were far too many locks.

“I’m right behind you,” Adam whispered as she started up a spiral staircase. Shallow, narrow, and banister-less, it hugged the walls. To her left the shaft dropped two stories to a wooden floor. Good enough reason to keep one hand on the wall and her eyes down.

Months of self-neglect left her legs fatigued before she had covered three rotations. How embarrassing that she had started to puff. She stopped on the pretence of gazing out of one of the slit-like windows, but it revealed only clouded sky. It wasn’t a moment too soon for her jelly legs when she stepped onto a creaky wooden platform. Her nose thought otherwise. She wrinkled it at the reek of acrid urine and musty bat droppings plastered over the floorboards, a less than fetching expression for Adam to see as he emerged, in full control of his breath. When Genord joined them on the platform, the boards groaned. That executed her smile real quick. She looked down at the cracks between the wood.

“It’s quite safe, I assure you,” Genord said, reading her nervous expression. “Up there, Mr Lowell, are the bats you seem so fond of, as I am sure you are aware.”

Ella peered up. Roosted across rafters, wings tightly furled, she spied about ten of the hideous creatures hanging upside down. A rickety ladder balancing against the far wall led up. Much to Ella’s dismay, Adam started to climb.

“Come, Miss Jerome. We shall leave Mr Lowell to his pursuit, and I shall show you Romain’s work.”

“I would prefer to wait for Adam. That ladder doesn’t look too safe.”

“Go ahead,” Adam called.

“Shall we?” Genord indicated an external door. This time steps led down to a large, flat roof. Certain by now Genord was aiming to unnerve, Ella didn’t hesitate. Though open and exposed, balustrades on either side made her feel safer than she had climbing the confined tower. She sent a silent thank you to the heavens for the lack of wind. The faintest gust would have kept her away from the fantastic creatures that sat at regular intervals on both the waist-high outer wall and an inner square ledge.

“Oh!” Ella exclaimed. “Romain is carving gargoyles.”

“They are grotesques, Miss Jerome. Gargoyles are waterspouts used for drainage. You will not be able to see any from here. These statues have another function entirely, and that is protection. They scare away evil spirits.”

“Well they’re not doing a very good job at the moment.”

“I beg to differ. A young woman was wandering around the grounds last night.” Ella spun to face him. Merriment danced in his eyes. “Perhaps without their protection she would have suffered the fate of that poor girl they pulled from the river.” Ella felt her heart hammer away in her chest. It had been so dark he couldn’t possibly have known it was her, and yet she felt exposed under his derision. He shifted his gaze to a goblin-like statue. “If you would grace my establishment with another visit on All Hallow’s Eve, you might judge their efficacy for yourself. A number of churches yet acknowledge it is the time when evil walks abroad. Then again, perhaps grotesques only protect the faithful. Are you a church-goer, Miss Jerome?” he asked in a tone that suggested he knew she was not.

Ella forced herself to relax. Any observant person would sense she felt ill at ease in the building. “Do you mind if I take a closer look?”

“It is why I brought you here.”

Ella moved to the closest. Incredible detail was finely etched into every feature. She ran a hand over the shoulder, admiring the delineation of the muscle groups. From the front, the toothed mouth appeared to snarl defiance. A little spooked, she went to the next. The eyes pleaded, every bit as realistic as the last. Romain had captured human expressions within these stone monsters, displaying a remarkable gift. She wondered what the outer grotesques looked like. Too high to see clearly from the ground, they were presumably no less astonishing.

“I’m impressed,” she told Genord, who had followed her along the line.

“I would expect no less. Tell me, which do you find most appealing?”

Ella smiled. “I’ll reserve my judgement.”

“Certainly. See the rest. I will, however, expect an answer, Miss Jerome.”

As Ella moved back toward the stairs, she noticed a gap on the outer ledge.

“That place is reserved for the grotesque you saw Romain working on.”

She nodded and continued to a leonine creature with rounded wings. Its flat, elongated head had prominent orbital ridges while its scrawny body hunched on powerful limbs and wide paws which ended in vicious claws. For all the power in its bearing, Ella was drawn to its face. Its mouth and eyes drooped in a surprisingly sympathetic expression.

“This one has such a human expression.”

“You think the others do not?”

“They do, but somehow, I can imagine this one as flesh.” The hairs on her arms bristled. It was almost as if the statues were watching her. This one, though, for all its warped features, was pitiable. She touched its head, but the stone was uncomfortably cold.

“Romain models all his creations on real people. It is, I think, why he has become a master. This one is his favourite. A gentle creature, he calls her. Despite her formidable appearance, he maintains there is not a shred of bitterness in her.”

Angelina Jolie, move over, because Ella was a star, to react with no more than a widening of her eyes. She avoided Genord’s gaze by studying the figure while she collected herself. It held an innocence the others lacked. Her eye was drawn to a bracelet, of all things, carved around its left paw. She traced a hand over the piece of jewellery. Tiny letters had been carved into a central plate. C-E-C-I-L-Y. Ella drew in a sharp breath and moved to the next figure. Her knees had become weak, her breathing shallow.

“This one’s good too,” she forced herself to say. Genord was rapidly convincing her he was dangerous, and the importance of remaining calm did not escape her. “But I still prefer the other.”

“Very good, Miss Jerome. Perhaps it is time we joined Mr Lowell?”

GENORD ESCORTED THEM
down the two flights of stairs to the main doors.

“Perhaps you would care to return on All Hallow’s Eve, Miss Jerome.” He shut the door on them as soon as they had passed the threshold. They heard a bolt slide into place.

“He’s a really charming guy,” Ella said.

Adam put his hands on his hips and looked up and down the elaborate façade. Impish faces and scrolled stonework adorned the doors and walls. Higher up, a gargoyle in the shape of a dragon head watched over all who dared enter, no doubt showering a few unsuspecting worshipers in wet weather.

“The bell doesn’t look like it’s meant to be rung; there isn’t a rope or clapper. Otherwise, there was nothing suspicious in the belfry.”

“Did you expect there to be?”

He led the way back to the cars. “I don’t know, but I was never going to get a better opportunity to check the tower out.”

She shook her head. He was the one who had said the police had already been through the place. “Adam, was Cecily wearing anything that might help identify her?”

“No.”

“No jewellery?”

“Bat spotting hardly requires the height of fashion. Why do you ask?”

His phone rang. They stopped while he replied to the caller in monosyllables. Ella looked back at the church. She could have sworn a statue now occupied the empty place.

“That was my supervisor,” Adam said, hanging up. “The computer’s down so I’ve got to help collate some recommendations this afternoon.”

“I wouldn’t mind coming back this evening. Perhaps we can find whatever’s lurking down here.”

Adam managed a thin smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Ella unlocked her car door. She opened her mouth to mention the grotesque with the name, but thought better of it. The past had taught her to keep her cards to herself.

ADAM’S STATION WAGON
pulled into the parking space beside Ella’s sedan. Ella tucked the notes she’d been scribbling into the glove box, grabbed her camera, got out, and opened his passenger door.

“I’ve brought supplies,” he said, indicating a thermos that reclined under the dashboard.

“So have I,” Ella replied, digging out a block of chocolate from her tote. The twilight prevented her from gauging his expression. “Are you all right?”

He inhaled deeply. “I think so.”

“Let’s do this.”

They walked down the paved path on the built-up side of the reserve. Ella’s senses were attuned to every flickering shadow, each grating sound, every waft of putrefying matter from the river. Tonight, lights shone brightly in house windows, as if the inhabitants hoped to keep evil at bay by dispelling all shadows. Ahead, the church loomed in complete darkness.

“You’d think the council would light up the area. I mean, even if safety wasn’t an issue in the wake of all the disappearances, the church is a public building.”

“Too much light around dusk and dawn might alter the bats’ roosting behaviour. They feed on insects that gather around light but won’t emerge unless it’s dark. Current regulations prohibit the church from turning on its lights for two hours after nightfall, at least until the impact on the colony is fully assessed.”

“Still.”

“If the study determines there are no adverse effects, the council will reverse the decision.”

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

“I was on the recommendation committee, yes.”

“Regretting the decision?”

“Right now, deeply.”

When their chat died, Ella felt an eerie stillness press down on the grounds. She faced the lights from the houses. Despite their brightness, the interiors were deathly silent, their protective illumination dependent on timed switches, no doubt. News reports claimed most of the residents had left, to relatives, to hotels, on holiday, too spooked by the closeness of death to chance remaining. Beside her, Adam shifted and glanced skyward. The moon was full, its yellow light diffusing through sheets of wispy clouds which hid the stars. It lent a ghostly glow to the church and the peculiar grotesques perched on its roof.

Sensing Adam’s nervousness did nothing to appease Ella’s own. “Where were you?” she asked. They needed to do this right.

“In the copse.”

The clump of sheoaks populated a narrow rectangle of land which carried the railway line to the city. The tall trees, no more than silhouettes, stood sentinel with patent menace. There were, Ella reminded herself, two of them. They could only hope the murderer acted alone. She never thought she would be wishing Rob were here, with his gun and martial arts training. Unarmed, Adam was second best, even if he did look like he worked out.