𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞┃ Anthony Lockwood┃2┃

Chapter Twenty Three - The Even Odder Pair

There's nothing like the onset of night to bring out the best in an agent, and for some of them, the darker it is, the better. Suddenly, every embarrassing spot is cloaked in shadow; jaws become firmer, waistlines sleeker. Unwashed faces become pale and interesting; the lankest haircuts acquire a glamorous sheen. The rougher points of personalities recede too; thoughts turn to survival and to the job at hand. So it was with the rag-tag band that Lockwood had assembled that evening. For once, as they stood beneath Aickmere's tissue tree, their similarities outweighed their differences. Kipps and Lockwood, Kat Godwin and Nola James – they were all of the same stuff. They had their rapiers and other weapons. They shared a cool seriousness of purpose. Even Flo looked business-like, her straw hat casting a ring of shadow across her face, her coat pulled back to reveal her great curved gutting knife and the sinister array of implements she normally used to winkle objects from the river mire.

George handed around some chocolate, and the group compared notes on what they'd learned.

"Mostly just seems to be worries about the air quality." Lockwood said. "Something unpleasant but hard to fathom." He leaned casually against a counter, face lit by a flickering gas lantern, eyes on Nola. "Then there's that story of the girl who saw a crawling figure. That stands out a mile because it's so definite and strange."

"What kind of ghost might it be?" Holly asked.

No one knew.

"A couple of people say they heard a voice calling out their name." Bobby Vernon said. "It was always at dusk. Always when they were leaving. It sounded like someone they knew was far off in the building, calling them back inside."

"Did they ever follow the sound?" Nola asked.

"Er, no, James, they didn't." Kat Godwin said. "Because they weren't completely stupid. Who would ever obey a disembodied voice?"

"Oh, you never know. Some people might be tempted." Holly Munro used her sweetest, most eyelash-batting tones.

Nola felt a frown appear on her face. She had been nice to Holly, and most certainly polite, so what were all these snide little digs about? Nola was well aware that she made a mistake on Fiona Wintergreen's case, but did Holly really feel the need to constantly bring it up?

Flo Bones shuffled her feet impatiently. "I don't know about all this, Locky... There's not much to go on here. Are you sure this place is the focus?"

"It's pretty thin pickings so far." Lockwood admitted. "Aickmere could tell as much from my manner when I spoke to him just now. Exactly what he expected, he said. We're going to have a very dull evening. He still maintains there's nothing significant here."

"No, he's wrong." Nola said slowly. "There is something. I can sense it."

She still detected that oddly prickling feeling, so familiar, yet so hard to read. The skull appeared to be having similar problems analysing it. It hadn't yet reported in.

"I don't hear anything." Kat Godwin said. She was a Listener too, and that made her suspicious of Nola's insights. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't really know." Nola said. "It's like background buzz, a kind of radiation. It's strong, but also muffled – like it's mostly blocked, but managing to seep in anyway."

"You need to get your ears syringed." Godwin said.

Holly shrugged. "I didn't sense anything."

Nola sighed, pursing her lips to herself. She couldn't help but think 'why do I bother?'."

Lockwood shook his head. "If James says there's something, we need to take notice. Where's it strongest, James? The basement?"

"No. I get it everywhere." She replied quietly, looking down at her feet and fiddling with her nail polish.