Authors: A.A. Bell
He did, and she leaned through the ghostly wall to see if the elevators were still there. Instead, she found her face only inches from the rump of a horse. Startled, Mira sidestepped and saw out through the open front of the stall to a line of ten other horses, all tethered in their own roped-off compartments. She leaned out a little more to see around the horse, but it spooked, asif it had sensed her, and she pulled her head back in, glad that she’d kept hold of Ben’s hand.
‘Stables,’ she reported, still a little disoriented. ‘The high-rise wing was built where the stables used to be. Not much has changed in here, though. Except …’ She paused to read the lips of a plump and stern-looking hotel manager who was reprimanding an old woman for adding too much kerosene and soap to her mop bucket. ‘Reception is over there now, behind him. And so is the visitors’ book.’
She walked along the short bare counter to read the page that was standing open beside an inkwell and quill.
‘This is a different book,’ she reported. ‘It’s still got a timber cover that’s much bigger than the pages, but the binding is ribbon instead of metal and the pen is like a feather. I can’t read much of the handwriting because it’s very messy in some places and very fancy in others, but there’s one name here — Rupert Bottomley. He writes that his meal was amply sufficient to its cost and the date on his entry is … the twenty-third of March, 1899.’
‘We’ll have to trust you on that,’ Van Danik said. ‘This book only goes back ten years.’
Mira turned and jumped to avoid the cleaner’s mop.
‘What was that?’ asked Ben, still keeping hold of her hand.
‘Just a cleaner scrubbing the floor with soap and kerosene.’
‘With
what?’
asked Zhou. ‘Are you sure?’
‘That’s what her boss said. Actually, he was complaining that she hadn’t diluted the kerosene enough. The cleaner argued that she might as well be using trough water then.’
‘My grandmother used to scrub her floors with kerosene,’ Ben said. ‘It was the cheapest way to sanitise timber floors back then. But she switched to soap and water after she heard about a spate of house fires caused by floors igniting near woodstoves and gas heaters.’
‘That’s it!’ Zhou blurted. He gripped Mira’s arm in excitement, then pulled her into a bear hug. ‘You wonderful, amazing,
beautiful
girl! Oh, p-pardon me!’ he stammered, letting go of her.
Mira gasped, bewildered.
‘You just solved a mystery that’s been haunting me for decades!’ he explained, still sounding embarrassed. ‘My sister died in a house fire. Neighbours accused us of playing with matches, but I know for certain that we never did. The heater was already lit, and when I bumped it over, it … It was only for a few seconds, so it shouldn’t have ignited the floor, but it did. You have to know how monumentally significant this is for me, Miss Chambers! I’ve devoted my whole life to revealing the truth, and it’s been extremely frustrating to get
so close
with this project only to learn from my own subconscious that I was both guilty and innocent.’
‘Lucky break,’ Van Danik agreed. ‘You’d never have nailed it without the right set of questions. The subconscious is a whimsical vault with a riddle for a key.’
‘Not mine,’ Mira replied. ‘You taught me to get inside.’
‘What?’ Zhou said. ‘That’s impossible!’
Mira laughed.
‘Impossible
is a temporary concept, isn’t it, Mitch?’
‘Indeed it is.’
‘Ben and I were just talking about it a few minutes ago. After a while of answering your questions, I started to notice a funny feeling in here,’ she patted her stomach, ‘each time I had to guess an answer, and if the feeling was the same up here,’ she rubbed a small area near the top of her head, ‘then I knew my answer was right before you confirmed it.’
‘That sounds like gut instinct,’ Ben said. ‘I get that too sometimes.’
‘Me too,’ Van Danik agreed. ‘But science hasn’t yet found a way to map the phenomenon.’
‘Perhaps you’re on the right track now,’ Mira said. ‘This is fun!’ She clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Can we buy some more sunglasses?’
‘Yours first,’ Van Danik said. He clicked his fingers.
Mira wondered who he meant until Duet spoke. ‘I need them,’ he complained.
‘Not for the next two minutes you don’t.’ Van Danik offered the prescription glasses to Mira. ‘These look almost the same shade as Ben’s.’
‘Much clearer purple, though,’ she reported.
‘They look like normal black sunglasses to me,’ argued Duet. ‘Where does the purple come from?’
‘Refraction,’ Van Danik explained. ‘It’s how they look to Mira that counts.’
‘Well, to me, the purple leans towards brown, not black,’ she replied. ‘But everything’s also sharper and clearer. Not so unfocused or foggy.’
‘Sounds like you may also be a little short-sighted,’ Zhou suggested.
Mira grinned. ‘Ha-ha, very funny. Now I’m a blind girl who’s short-sighted.’
‘Notice anything else different?’ Ben asked.
Mira shrugged. ‘The reception counter is back where it was, and so is the wing with the elevators. Oh, and the visitors’ book is very close to where I left it.’
‘Date and time?’ Ben asked as his footsteps followed her.
‘I’m not sure.’ She turned around, scanning the foyer. ‘The book is closed today, and there are no ghosts around to open it.’
‘What about staff at reception?’ asked Ben. ‘Anyone there?’
Mira shook her head. ‘There’s only one small light that’s focused on a sign that says reception hours are 7 am to 5 pm.’
‘It’s just turned midday,’ Duet argued. ‘It’s broad daylight and even I can tell without my glasses that the sign says they’re out to lunch and back at one.’
She ignored him, listening instead to other voices around the corner, and walked to the end of the long reception counter to investigate where they were coming from. ‘Sounds like the gift shop is open. I can hear foreign chattering down there, as if a lot of people are hurrying to buy things —’
‘Oh,
please,’
Duet interrupted. ‘There’s an empty tour bus pulling up outside for them.’
‘Not then there wasn’t.’ She saw a shop assistant emerge to roll a display case of postcards into the store. ‘It looks like the sales lady is closing up for the night.’
‘So it’s probably closer to six,’ Zhou suggested. ‘That narrows it down a little. Let’s go and —’
‘Wait!’ Mira pointed to the door of the men’s room adjacent to the gift shop. ‘There’s Sergeant Hawthorn! He’s coming this way.’ She watched him intently until he’d passed her and walked around the corner. ‘He’s headed for the fire exit.’
‘Follow him!’ Sei ordered, rushing to Mira and grabbing her arm. ‘That leads to the alley.’
‘So?’ said Van Danik.
‘That’s where he died!’
‘That’s classified!’ Duet complained.
‘He
died!’
Sei argued, as Mira tugged free to follow Hawthorn’s ghost. ‘There’s nothing classified about his coffin or death certificate.’
‘You shouldn’t tell them
anything
!’
‘I haven’t, and I won’t, but there’s nothing to say they won’t discover it for themselves anyway. Look!’
Mira felt their eyes on her back as she walked towards the fire exit, drawn by a combination of curiosity and dread.
Ben’s hand beat hers to the door lever.
‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ he asked.
She hesitated but nodded. ‘I’ve seen violence and death for years, Ben — muggings and thefts and fighting. It’s terrible what people do to each other when they think nobody’s watching.’
‘This won’t be ghosts from a century ago, though, Mira. You knew Sergeant Hawthorn.’
‘Not very well.’ She offered him a grim smile. ‘Perhaps I judged him too soon, like I did with you?’
Ben touched her shoulder. ‘You’re maturing so fast, soon you won’t need me at all.’
‘That’s the plan, isn’t it?’
‘That’s the plan.’ He sounded sad. He shoved the door open and a warm wall of air fell against her. ‘Go get him, tiger.’
M
ira closed her eyes to avoid the still-unsettling sensation of walking through a very solid-looking door. Outside, from the top of a short flight of steps, she saw the ghostly cat crouched over two ceramic bowls, one holding milk, the other fish scraps. Hawthorn had already passed the cat on his way to the shadows on the far side of the alley.
‘Do you still see him?’ asked Ben.
She pointed at Hawthorn’s ghost, sensing the others gathering closely behind her. ‘He just lit a cigarette. That’s odd, isn’t it? I never smelled cigarettes on him. Only breath mints.’
‘Neither did I,’ Van Danik replied, ‘and I certainly would have. I only gave up smoking a year ago, so I still fight the craving every time I catch the smell.’
‘He took more toilet breaks than his offsider,’ Zhou said. ‘I just assumed he wasn’t well.’
He’s not putting the cigarette in his mouth,’ Mira said. ‘He’s just letting it burn.’
‘Show us exactly where he’s standing, sweetie,’ said Karin Sei. ‘A lit cigarette can be useful at night as a signal.’
Mira nodded and walked towards the ghost.
‘Watch the van!’ Ben grabbed her arm and guided her around where Duet had parked their vehicle.
Rattled, she moved more cautiously towards Hawthorn and shaped her hands around the ghostly outline of his face and shoulders. ‘He’s right here. See?’
‘What’s that?’ Ben asked as he squatted beside her. ‘It looks like ash … and a bloodstain.’
‘It
is
a bloodstain,’ Zhou said. ‘And look, there’s another on the wall. That suggests there was foul play — someone else was involved.’
‘That’s classified,’ Duet insisted again, but his tone confirmed Zhou was right.
‘He just said hello!’ Mira glanced around the alley to see who Hawthorn was greeting. ‘Oh, false alarm. He was talking to the cat.’
Light spilled from the fire exit behind her and a ghostly head leaned out to survey the alley.
‘There!’ Mira pointed. ‘Someone’s coming. He just called the sergeant by name.’
‘He knows him?’ said Ben.
‘Can you describe him?’ asked Duet.
‘Sure, he’s tall and wearing a dark suit.’
‘Great,’ Duet muttered. ‘That narrows it down to half the male population in the state.’
‘Dark hair … I can’t tell if it’s brown or black. Everything’s purple.’
‘What about his voice?’ asked Sei. ‘Do you recognise it?’
‘I can’t hear him. I can only read lips.’
The cat spooked and took cover behind the large industrial bin, and Mira felt the urge to join it. She saw Hawthorn motion the stranger into the shadows with him, and stepped forward to read both sides of their conversation.
‘Okay,’ she said, concentrating on the rapid-fire exchange. ‘The stranger just asked Sergeant Hawthorn where he was this afternoon. He says he needs the merchandise.’
‘What merchandise?’ asked Ben.
‘Shhh, please! It’s hard enough to keep up with one conversation. Sergeant Hawthorn said he was at Likiba Isle … an unexpected detour … The sergeant is pulling something out of his pocket … a small silver cylinder. He says it’s schematics, interrogation notes, output data … transcripts of all the test cases.’
‘That’s our research!’ Zhou blurted. ‘He must have made copies of our data drives!’
‘Except for one case they had to do at the last minute,’ Mira said.
‘That was you,’ Van Danik replied.
‘Pfft!’ Mira swatted through Hawthorn’s ghostly face. ‘He just called me a crazy blind girl!’
‘We know otherwise,’ Zhou said. ‘What else did they say?’
She sighed, trying to make sense of the blanks that occurred each time Hawthorn turned his head to keep watch on the alley. ‘I think they’re talking about Lockman now. Was he a private?’
‘That’s right,’ Zhou said.
‘Well, this man wants to know if Private Lockman suspects anything, but Sergeant Hawthorn says no. He says he’s been using some excuse … a weak bladder … to slip away from everyone …’
Hawthorn glanced away again and she leaned forward, trying but unable to read his moving lips from the side.
‘… something about good looks and charm.’
She read the colonel’s response and laughed. ‘He just called the sergeant a smart ass, and compared him to you, Mitch.’
‘Me? What did I do?’
‘Sergeant Hawthorn just apologised and … thankedhim for choosing him for the job anyway, and … now they’re talking about how long it’ll be before the sergeant is missed … He’s on a break … But he has a question … something about … Oh! He’s pulled out a gun!’
She gasped and stumbled backwards into Ben.
‘Who’s got a gun?’ Ben asked. ‘The stranger?’
‘No! Sergeant Hawthorn!’
Why did you assign an old has-been like me to this mission,
she read from his lips,
then ask me to steal something that you’re already supervising? … Unless you plan on framing me …
Blood burst from Hawthorn’s throat and Mira screamed. His body fell against the wall, then slid into a crumpled heap.
‘He’s dead! His neck, it just …
exploded
!’ She pointed down, unable to look at him.
‘Who?’ Ben asked as she huddled against him. ‘The stranger?’
‘No, Sergeant Hawthorn!’
Ben wrapped his arms around her until her heartbeat steadied.
‘He shot himself?’ asked Zhou.
‘I don’t … No, I don’t think so. He looked surprised. Get away from him!’ she shouted at his killer. ‘He’s taking his watch and … his gun and wallet. And now he’s …’ She followed the killer with her eyes. ‘He’s going back inside.’ She pointed to the fire exit.
‘Stay with him,’ Sei ordered. ‘Where he goes and what he does may help to identify him.’
Mira nodded, keen to find out too.
Ben grabbed her arm. ‘Watch the van!’ He guided her around it again.
‘He’s stopping,’ Mira said. ‘He’s taking something out of his pocket.’ She hurried closer for a better look, but caution and fear still kept her a little distance from him. ‘It’s a plastic bag, one that’s already zip-sealed. There’s a gun inside it … and something that looks like part of a bullet.’ She gasped in horror as she realised what had happened. ‘That sneaky coward! He shot through his pocket!’