Six Dead Men (18 page)

Sylvie was digging around in her cavernous bag. Joe sat in one of the armchairs and Deed finally sat himself down on the chair by the desk. He realised he was sitting in a far too upright posture. Looking down at his hands resting on his knees, he noticed the knuckles were white.
Shame it's not a full round table, four knights of the round table we'd be. Or are we a coven?
He felt slightly hysterical and had to stifle an urge to giggle.
She's staring at me. Looks like she wants to say something. Get a grip Robert.

Sylvie's gaze slid away and she continued her bag rummage till she found a pen which she placed next to the pad she'd produced earlier. She and Joe appeared to be the only relaxed people in the room.
I suppose they have something in common, this... calling they share.

A knock at the door made all eyes turn as one, betraying the underlying current of tension in the room. Sylvie took the tea tray from the waiter, set it down on the table and began to play mum. She put the plate of sandwiches to one side and began sorting out cups and saucers.

You'd think we were just going to have a spot of afternoon tea. It's a wonder she didn't ask for scones and cream.

Sylvie poured and spoke while Joe tipped the waiter and closed the door. “I know we've done the emails but it's nicer to meet in person. I wanted to speak to all of you about the message I received two nights ago before you meet with Madie. Andrew, I think this might be a bit uncomfortable for you.

Father Andrew leaned forward to pick up his tea as he spoke. “First and foremost I’m here for the child Sylvie. She needs our help, that's very clear.

“Thank you Andrew.” Sylvie turned her attention to Joe. “I'm also not sure if I should be the one to speak to her or if you should Mr Carpenter.” As Joe retook his seat with tea cup in hand she continued speaking to him. “I'd be very grateful if you would do an independent reading for Madie. I think this is far too important to be left to the ramblings of a silly old woman.”

Father Andrew interjected. “Oh Sylvie, that’s completely unnecessary.”

“No, Andrew. I’m serious. When you hear the nature of what I have to tell you, you'll agree with me.”

“Mrs Rose, I’m not sure I can help with this case.” Joe’s hesitation was evident in the way he narrowed his eyes and frowned slightly. “My work mainly involves finding missing children. I’ve never spoken to the other side in the way that you do. I don't make contact. In fact it’s something I’ve always shied away from. And please, call me Joe."

Sylvie smiled warmly. She handed Deed a cup and turned towards Joe again. “Only if you call me Sylvie." Joe nodded and Sylvie continued. "All I’m asking Joe is that you tell me your impressions. I’ve told Madie I wasn't able to make any contact with the spirit world. I felt bad lying to her, but I was so disconcerted at the time. Besides, you deal in lost children and there’s a lost child inside her.”

Deed looked from the psychic to the medium with a growing sense of dread.
She sounds so ominous.
He’d watched Joe at work but realised he was not that comfortable with the easy way in which they talked about readings and ‘the other side’. He put his untouched cup of tea on the desk blotter, feeling completely out of the loop. Hearing Sylvie speak about Madie made him see her so clearly in his mind's eye. He remembered the last time he'd seen her at the train station. She'd looked so small in the midst of the departing crowds. Her lack of size emphasised by the huge impersonal quality of the transport building. Why hadn't he stopped her there and then? Of course he'd been in shock, but what must she have been feeling at that point?
I let the detective in me cut me off from my feelings. She must have been so frightened. Even more so now.

There was a lull in the conversation so Deed spoke. “How is she?” He knew the longing for knowledge of Madie rang through his voice but could not avoid his need to know.

Father Andrew and Sylvie looked at each other then Sylvie's lips tilted up as she answered. “Considering the circumstances, she’s doing very well. She’s a tough young lady.” As though she saw the war Deed was having with his twin the policeman, Sylvie continued. “Just love her for who she is and don’t try to justify the reasons for why things are the way they are Mr Deed. She'll be glad you've come when she knows.”

Bloody mediums. It's like you can't think in peace. Stop being so petulant Robert.
Deed looked at Sylvie for some time in silence then nodded in simple agreement.
He felt a small amount of tension release at the centre of his shoulder blades.

Sylvie's empty cup clattered awkwardly on her saucer and lay at an angle. She righted the cup then massaged the palm of her right hand with the thumb of her left. Three pairs of eyes watched her every move. She cleared her throat as though to speak but then smoothed down the non-existent folds in her skirt. Finally she adjusted the scarf at her throat.

Why's she stalling? It can't be that bad. We already know Madie thinks she kills people.

“The thing is Andrew, Joe, Mr Deed..."

Again that palm massaging thing. Wish she'd just get on and say it.

Sylvie's eyes sort each man's in turn, finally stopping with the one's she was most familiar with. "Andrew, God’s chosen her for this work.”

Before Father Andrew had a chance to speak Deed asked sharply, “What the hell do you mean by that?” Father Andrew was sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Joe leaned towards Deed.

“I think Robert, she means her guides have told her God has sanctioned these deaths.” Joe spoke gently. He looked over to Sylvie for confirmation. Sylvie nodded. Father Andrew placed his cup in his saucer with unusual care and was about to speak but again Deed got there ahead of him.

"Sanctioned the deaths? Sanctioned them! Am I hearing you right?" They seemed so accepting of Madie's ability to kill people that it was hard to grasp. Was that what he'd done - had he accepted the situation as fact?

"Are you saying she's an avenging angel Sylvie?" asked Father Andrew, finally getting a word in.

Sylvie took a deep breath. "Yes."

Deed was up on his feet. "Oh for Christ sake. This is completely insane. An instrument of God! Have you completely lost your mind? This is totally ridiculous. This is the twentieth century not, not... Egypt in the Old Testament." Deed lurched towards Father Andrew. "You're the priest here. Surely this is completely absurd? How can you just sit there and let her say that?"

Father Andrew remained remarkably composed. His criss-crossed hands with tapping thumbs rested on the surface of the table far too calmly for Deed’s liking. The priest looked down at his hands as he spoke. "Mr Deed, my grey hair and wrinkles should tell you I’ve been around the block a bit and I can tell you the world is full of strange and mysterious things. I’ve learnt in my many and various postings to keep an open mind. Not only that, Sylvie is one of my oldest friends and I've seen her say and do things that have astounded me. But she's been more right than she's been wrong young man. And I'm not saying she's right, but I want to hear everything she has to tell before I make up my mind one way or the other. Now you need to settle down. As you say, I'm the man of the cloth and it's my job to be outraged."

Joe stood and moved across the floor to grip Deed’s arm. "Let's hear what Sylvie has to say."

"The God of fire and brimstone." muttered Father Andrew.

Joe looked Deed in the eye. "Bobby, we can't deny something really strange is happening with Madie. She believes she's responsible for the deaths of quite a few men. And, strange as it seems, she might be. If we're going to help her we have to find out what's happening. We've got to help her. Anyone else with knowledge of Madie's beliefs would want only one thing - you know that's true."

Deed clenched and unclenched his fists.
How does Joe manage to do that? Somehow he always calms me. Is it the way he says my name? Does it act as some kind of trigger?

Sylvie's voice was consoling. "If it helps Mr Deed, I don't think the dead men were good men. I mean that's the impression I got from my reading."

An awkward silence hung in the room. Joe steered Deed towards the other armchair in the room and waited till he sat down before resuming his own seat. As Deed thought of the six dead men whose faces had once adorned a pin board in his office a list of their names dangled in the air before him.

Anthony Brockwell

Danny Matthews

Andrew Carson

Maxwell Fraser

Curtis Franks

Calvin Burry

They were Madie’s own sword of Damocles. Bad was not the word for them. The men were the lowest of the lowest. The more he had delved into the possible cause of their deaths the more he had uncovered about their loathsome little lives.
No, they were not good men.

Joe seemed to have taken on the role of mediator in the group. “Mmmm. So...she's God’s avenging angel apparently. Sylvie, what exactly did your guides say that made you come up with this conclusion?” Sylvie poured herself another cup of tea. "It was pictures as well as words." She sipped at the hot liquid delicately.

"Pictures. You've never had pictures before. This is new, very new. You should keep me abreast of these new developments."

"Not now Andrew."

Father Andrew coughed lightly, took a sip of his tea and mumbled an apology into the cup.

Sylvie rummaged round in her Mary Poppins bag then remembered the pad was already on the table. She pulled it out from under the plate of sandwiches. "I made notes and a very crude sketch. I'm sorry. I'm not an artist. Really wish in this instance I was. It's the clearest picture I've ever had. I've always been better with voices."

As she sat back with her saucer and cup of tea, Father Andrew and Joe hunched over the sketch on the table. Joe beckoned Deed over and he pushed himself out of the arm chair stiffly. Sylvie had labelled the picture very precisely. The three men's shoulders jostled lightly as they each leaned in and took their turn viewing the sketch from every angle and reading Sylvie's notes.
Jesus!
Deed’s eyes took in the details of the drawing. He felt the muscles at the base of his skull tighten as he read the annotations. At the bottom of the page Sylvie had written out her conclusions.

Joe moved back to his armchair. "Your notes are very specific Sylvie, but can you explain the whole drawing in more detail?"

Deed walked back towards the desk as Sylvie picked up the drawing. "This is her, Madie. She's in the role of Justice. See the sword and the scales. When I got the vision it was clearly Madie's face, no question." Sylvie picked up the pen lying on the table and used it as a pointer. "This is a river of blood and these are the dead men, plus behind her all the dead men to come I presume. And the..."

Deed thumped his fist on the desk top. "It's like a bad pantomime version of Macbeth."
What's happening to me? Why am I so angry?
He refused to meet Joe's eyes.

Joe turned from Deed to Sylvie and Father Andrew. "What about the dog?"

"A terrier, nasty thing. That's where her main danger lies. It could be a real dog or representative of someone. I'm inclined to think it represents a person." At this point Sylvie looked directly at Deed.

"Unbelievable. You people are unbelievable. And why is she looking at me like that? Am I supposed to be the bloody dog? I'm no bloody terrier do you understand. Maybe an Alsatian or a Rottweiler. I'm not into ripping poor badgers apart." Deed suddenly punched the wall above the desk, narrowly missing the gilded mirror.
Shit! It's like my dream, just like my dream.
He looked for a quick exit, but Joe had moved the furniture so they could have this little conference and the armchairs and console table were effectively blocking his route out of the room. He turned instead to the window alongside the bed.

Joe was standing again. "Look, can we do this later or tomorrow? I've got your numbers. I'll ring you."

Sylvie began gathering her things together. Father Andrew stood, "No problem Joseph. We'll talk later."

The silence which followed felt heavy. After what seemed an age the door shut behind Sylvie and Father Andrew. Deed opened his mouth to speak but Joe lifted a silencing hand. "You were like a child throwing a tantrum. Yes, I know this is difficult for you. We're talking about things you find uncomfortable. It's not exactly your usual crossword and malt on a Sunday afternoon. And that makes you feel mad. You're so damned angry right now it's coming off you in waves."

Like the sulky child he had been accused of being, Deed turned his back on Joe and leaned his fists down on the desk.

"Just consider this Robert. Maybe you're so pissed off because you're starting to think that Sylvie's right. Maybe you keep that album of dead men’s photos for a reason.”

Deed was startled and his already tense jaw tightened even more.

Joe continued his justifiable harangue. “And if she's right then you're thinking about what that means for Madie. I saw your eyes when you looked at the drawing. You had one of your gut feelings. Do you realise what this could mean for Madie? It could mean her life's about to get a lot harder than it's been. And maybe you're thinking you can't help her after all. But if you are, don't push your feelings onto the rest of us. I truly want to help her, even if you've changed your mind."