Voices From Beyond (A Ghost Finders Novel) (18 page)

“Kim can’t touch anyone,” said Melody. “Whereas my machines can. Suddenly and violently and with extreme prejudice.”

“Fair enough,” said JC.

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They all went up the back stairs to the next floor. Jonathan led the way, staring firmly straight ahead. He stamped his feet down hard on every wooden step, making a lot of noise, as though to ensure that everyone knew he was coming. When they reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the landing, Happy pulled his arm free from Melody and hung back, looking quickly around him. Melody stuck close, watching him carefully, knowing better than to try to touch him.

“Do you . . . See anything, Happy?”

“No,” he said.

“Is this where you saw . . . the other me? The future me?”

“Yes. You were dead but still suffering. Monstrous, but still you. You said my name and I recognised you. Even in that awful state, I knew you.” He looked at her, holding her gaze with his. “I need you to trust me, Mel. I swear I won’t let that happen to you. I will do whatever it takes. I will put my life on the line for you. I will put my death on the line . . .”

“Hush,” said Melody. “Hush. I know that; I’ve always known that. We’re going to get through this, together; and neither of us is going to die. You need to trust me on that.”

They managed a small smile for each other. It was hard to tell who was comforting whom.

A little further down the landing, JC cleared his throat, and Happy and Melody followed him and Jonathan along the landing to studio one, where Captain Sunshine was standing outside the closed door, talking quietly with Tom Foreman. They looked round sharply as they heard the others approaching, then relaxed a little as they saw who it was. The Captain looked more interested than nervous. Tom looked tired and jumpy and not at all happy to be there. He nodded quickly to Jonathan.

“I was saying how sorry I was, to the Captain. About leaving him alone in the studio, to be ambushed by that voice on the phone.”

“No problemo, kemo sabe,” said Captain Sunshine. “That spooky shit doesn’t bother me.”

JC studied Tom openly. Of everyone he’d met at the radio station, Tom seemed the most honestly scared. JC wondered if perhaps Tom didn’t want to be alone in the studio for the same reason that Sally didn’t like to be alone in the reception area. Because they could both feel things they couldn’t put into words . . . A thought struck JC, and he stepped forward to face Tom.

“Pardon me for asking, but I thought you were supposed to be doing your broadcast from the other studio? What were you doing in studio one, anyway?”

Tom looked down at his feet before looking up to meet JC’s gaze.

“Normally we keep both studios going, so that if there’s a problem, one can cover the air for the other,” he said quietly. “But something’s gone wrong with the equipment in studio two. Again. I’ve done everything I can with it, Jon. You know I have. It’s like the bloody tech doesn’t want to work.”

“Easy, Tom, easy,” said Captain Sunshine, cutting in before Jonathan could say anything, and giving the station manager a warning glance. “Everything’s cool, we get it. We really do. Nothing that’s happening here is your fault. Is anybody’s fault.”

Tom didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Jonathan sighed and shrugged briefly.

“You can all share the same studio, Tom. If that’ll make things easier . . .”

“Always a warm seat,” the Captain said calmly. “There is strength in togetherness, people. Am I right, or am I right?”

Tom managed the beginnings of a smile. “Sometimes, you can be a bit too understanding, you know that?”

“Yes,” said the Captain. “I know that.”

He produced a thick spliff from somewhere, stuck it in the corner of his mouth, and lit the twisted end with a battered old Zippo. He took a good puff and filled the air with aromatic smoke. He put the Zippo away again and smiled serenely about him. Happy started to move towards the Captain. Melody pulled him back.

“I need you and the Captain to stick around for a while,” Jonathan said to Tom. “We’ll be shutting the station down early tonight, right after Felicity has finished her show. Apparently, Mr. Chance here feels the need for a group discussion, about . . . recent events.”

“Sure,” said the Captain. “Suits me.”

Tom didn’t look at all pleased but finally nodded briefly. “All right. But I won’t stay long. Not here. Not after it starts getting dark.”

“Come on, Tom,” Jonathan said urgently. “Talking things through, making sense of things, is exactly what we need. Something to settle our nerves. Mr. Chance promised me he’ll provide us with some answers, at last.”

“You think answers are going to help?” Tom said angrily. “I don’t need to know what’s going on! I don’t need to know what’s behind all this weird shit! I’ve had enough . . . I won’t spend one more night in this house. No, Jon! Don’t say anything! I don’t care any more. The moment this discussion is finished, I am leaving, getting in my car, and driving to the nearest hotel. It’s been so long since I had a good night’s sleep . . .”

“What about your things?” said Jonathan.

“I’ll send for them,” said Tom. He looked defiantly at Jonathan. “I stuck it out here because you asked me to. I supported you, for as long as I could . . . You know I have! But I can’t do it any more. I have to get out of here, while I still can.”

He broke off, abruptly. Everyone could see he was on the edge of tears; and he didn’t want to let himself down in front of everyone. The Captain gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

“Let’s go downstairs, brother. We can always go for a stroll round the gardens. I like gardens. Flowers are righteous, man . . .”

He gently steered Tom down the landing towards the stairs, keeping up a soothing level of casual conversation along the way. Tom didn’t say anything. Jonathan watched them go; and he didn’t say anything either. He opened the door to studio one and ushered the Ghost Finders in. They lined up in the outer room, before the separating window, to watch Felicity Legrand at work. She was swivelling impatiently back and forth in her chair, before her microphone, with one of the Captain’s records playing to fill air time—the Judy Collins cover of “Both Sides Now.” Jonathan knocked on the separating glass, and Felicity immediately sat up straight and looked round. She glared at the Ghost Finders and gestured urgently for them to come in and join her. Jonathan opened the door to the inner room and stepped back. JC strode past him with all his usual bravado, smiling easily at Felicity Legrand. Happy and Melody brought up the rear.

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Felicity smiled at each Ghost Finder in turn; and it was a cold, professional thing. A predator’s smile. She gestured for them to sit down facing her, on the other side of the table. A second microphone had been set up there, one for all three of them. JC sat down facing the mike, with Happy on one side and Melody on the other. Jonathan hovered in the doorway.

“Well, unless you need me for anything . . .”

“Go,” said Felicity, without even looking at him. “I’ve got everything I need, right here.”

“I could stay and . . .”

“Go!”

JC grinned easily at Jonathan. “You run along. Join the others, downstairs. Play count-the-piercings with Sally. We’ll be fine.”

“I can take a hint,” said Jonathan.

He left, almost but not quite slamming the door behind him. JC watched him leave the studio, then gave his full attention to Felicity. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her. Big, meaningless, professional smiles. Like two gladiators sizing each other up in the arena. Melody sat slumped in her chair, her arms folded, scowling glumly at Felicity over the top of her glasses. Happy peered around him in a vague and unfocused sort of way. Felicity considered him, thoughtfully.

“Happy Jack Palmer . . . that is what they call you, isn’t it? My, what big pupils you have . . .”

“You should see them from this side,” said Happy. “All the better to see things no sane person would want to see . . . It’s a man’s life, being a telepath in the Ghost Finders. I don’t recommend it.”

“I can’t believe you’ve had the nerve to turn up to a live radio interview, stoned out of your skull,” said Felicity.

“Don’t go there,” said JC.

Felicity immediately stabbed him with her cold glare. “Why not? I never agreed to anything being off-limits in this interview.”

“Play nicely,” said JC. “Or I’ll throw Melody at you.”

“And I will kick your bony arse all around the studio,” said Melody. “Live, on-air.”

Felicity looked at her, then looked away. She knew a genuine threat when she heard one. She made a great show of checking through the big pile of notes set out on the table before her. JC sniffed loudly.

“Notes are rarely a good thing,” he said. “They speak of preconceptions. And ambushes.”

“Just doing my job,” said Felicity. “I am, after all, a professional.”

The Judy Collins song came to an end, and Felicity quickly worked the control panel before her with one hand while removing the needle from the old single with the other. She then leaned forward to address her audience; and her voice changed to its on-air persona. Warm and friendly and inviting.

“Hello, everyone, this is Felicity Legrand, welcoming you all to the
Felicity Legrand Hour
. Cheerful chat and casual conversation, about all the important and interesting aspects of the day. Stay tuned for a very special show! We are fortunate to have with us today, right here in the studio, three of those amazing and very mysterious people, the Ghost Finders. JC Chance, Melody Chambers, and Happy Jack Palmer. They have agreed to be interviewed about all the strange things that have been occurring here, at Radio Free Albion. Mr. Chance is a very handsome young fellow who never removes his sunglasses. Ms. Chambers is the self-confessed girl science geek of the team. And last, but in no way least interesting, the supposed telepath, Happy Jack. Why do they call you Happy, Jack?”

“Because I’m so cheerful,” growled Happy. “Smell the irony . . .”

“Moving on,” Felicity said smoothly. “Let’s start with the team leader himself, JC Chance. You don’t really expect my listeners to believe that you’re all experts in the supernatural, do you?”

“No,” said JC.

Felicity blinked, caught off guard. She looked briefly at her notes for confirmation and support, then pressed on. “Then, why . . . ?”

“It doesn’t matter what you or your listeners believe,” said JC. “We are here to do a job. And part of that job is to protect and reassure the innocent bystanders. If it helps you to think we know what we’re doing; all the better. But we really don’t care whether people believe we’re saviours or frauds or showmen as long as you stay out of our way while we’re working. Let us get on with what we have to do. We’re here to help; settle for that.”

“I am interviewing you to inform my audience,” said Felicity. “I’m only interested in the truth.”

“You couldn’t handle the truth if we hit you over the head with it,” said Melody. “The truth is a slippery beggar, when it comes to the hidden world. Science can help pin down the corners, but there’s still a lot we don’t understand. May never understand. The world is not only stranger than we imagine, it’s stranger than we can imagine. Yes, yes, I know, JC, play nice. I will if she will. Look at her, hunched over before her mike like a praying mantis, looking for something to leap on. She’s already made up her mind about what the truth is.”

“There’s a reason why we don’t let you do public relations,” JC murmured. He smiled easily at Felicity. “You must excuse Melody; she’s just being herself. Do feel free to ask me anything you want.”

“I will,” said Felicity, matching his smile with her own.

“And I will feel free to tell the truth, or lie, or make shit up, as I please,” said JC. “It comes with the job.”

“Oh, this can only go well,” said Happy.

He got up out of his chair and wandered around the cramped studio, peering closely at things and running his hands over them. As though he wasn’t entirely sure where he was or whether any of it was really real. Melody got up and went after him. She took Happy firmly by the arm and led him back to his chair. She sat him down, with enough emphasis to make it clear she meant it, then took her own seat again. While all this was going on, Felicity kept her attention fixed only on JC, throwing one question after another at him. He answered them all easily enough, sitting calm and relaxed in his chair, apparently unmoved by any of it.

“Welcome to the Felicity Legrand interview,” Felicity said to her audience again, after the two of them had duelled each other to a standstill. “Where we always get to the bottom of things, no matter how deep we have to dig. For those of you who came in late, we are talking with JC Chance, Ghost-Buster.”

“Ghost Finder, Felicity,” said JC. “There’s a difference. We’re real.”

“And they’re copyrighted,” said Happy,

“You still haven’t answered my most basic question, JC,” said Felicity. “Are you and your people really experts in the supernatural?”

“Inasmuch as anyone is, I suppose so,” said JC.

“That’s an interesting qualification, JC,” said Felicity.

“Simply trying to be accurate,” said JC.

“Do you honestly believe in ghosts?” said Felicity, with the air of someone going in for the kill.