The Edge Of The Cemetery (10 page)

Pete had remained quiet through the entire interview, but I could tell something was on his mind. When Billy returned, he took a seat at the table with the rest of us and asked, “Anything on this Sam Smith guy?”

Carol cleared her throat lightly. “I ran Sam Smith and naturally came up with a million hits. I decided to try something else since we know this kid is dangerous, at least when the demon is around. I combined Sam Smith and electrocution and found an article in the crime section of the Amador County paper—Amador is one county over from Calaveras County, where Calvin grew up. From there I hacked the sheriff department's data base. The body of a man was found, electrocuted, in a seedy motel room in Ione, which is not that far from Valley Springs. It was last year, about the time the neighbor says Sam took off. He was found in the bathtub; the clock radio that normally sat on the dresser was plugged in near the sink and submerged in the tub with him. But the coroner stated that Smith was probably dead before he was put into the water. So the case was classified as 'unresolved—death at the hands of another.' The only ID on Smith was a forged out of state driver's license. The neighbor had given Pete a description of Smith and this victim fits that. A maid they interviewed at the scene said she saw a teenage kid go into the room a few hours before the body was discovered. She gave a description, too, and it loosely fits our kid, but no one was ever questioned.”

That didn't tell us much about Smith, but it did tell us that he was dead and that the coroner believed he was electrocuted, which is exactly how it would look if Calvin used the demon's juice to kill Smith.

I said to no one in particular, “I wonder why he'd kill Smith, especially if he was just the kid's tutor.”

“We don't know that he did. We just know a guy fitting Smith's description is dead,” Carol said.

Phil said, “I think the neighbor might be right; you notice how he talks—almost as if he's twelve instead of seventeen.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too, but maybe it's shock. I mean, if he's been under Edgar and Gilles's spell for the last few months…or years…maybe his brains are sort of scrambled.” I said, remembering my encounter with Edgar a few months back. “When Edgar got to me, I was pretty shocked and dazed for a good while.” I turned to Billy and asked, “Do you think he knows that he can kill the ghosts—that he should be killing them?”

“Oh man, I didn't think of that!” Phil said, his eyes jutting out to the point of rupturing. “I mean, if Vokkel wanted to train this kid to control demons and stuff, I guess he'd discourage that inherent desire, or need, or whatever you all call it, to kill ghosts and demons.”

Billy nodded solemnly. “I don't think he knows he can do it. Honestly, I don't think he knows much of anything. But I'm going to wait for him to get cleaned up, and then we're going to have a long one-on-one chat.”

Aris agreed. “I think that is an excellent idea, Billy. You seem to have established a rapport with him, and I am hopeful he will open up to you.” He rose from his chair. “I am needed at the precinct. Perhaps we can reconvene here this evening.” Turning to Billy and me, he continued. “I would appreciate it if you would stay here with the boy until we get this situation resolved. I am very concerned about this 17
^th
century demon and Edgar…they both appear to have their own agenda, neither of which would be in our favor, and I do not want them taking us by surprise.”

Billy and I nodded in unison.

“George, do you believe GG will remain to help us?” Aris asked.

“I think so, but I can't be sure.” GG was unpredictable and I had no way of knowing if she'd stick around or just make periodic appearances.

“Understood. Do you feel the need for additional ghost killers in attendance?”

I looked to Billy and Eric, and she answered, “No, I think we'll be okay with me, Eric, and George.”

Pete said, “Whether you think you need them or not, I'm going to bring in some extra guys…not just for inside the house, but also to patrol the area. I don't want to get caught with our pants down if Edgar and the musketeer decide to call in a demon storm.”

Aris agreed. Before leaving, he asked Eric to go shopping for Calvin, then he left the room. Thirty seconds later we heard the front door open and close. Eric left to go shopping and Pete said, “I'm out of here too; see you both tonight.”

I turned to Phil and Carol. “What do you two have planned for the day?”

Carol stood and started toward the door, saying, “I've got things to do, so I'll see you all later.”

Phil said, “Still going through Vokkel's stuff. I want to make sure I find all the references I can on this kid, and see if a Sam Smith is referenced. And I'm pretty sure the 'G' I found in Vokkel's notes is this Gilles demon, so I want to search more for him too.” He stood and stretched, then said, “I've got a few things to do also, but I'll be back this afternoon.” He gave us a two fingered salute and left the room.

I leaned back in my chair and ran my hands down my face. “We never got to the part about how GG told him exactly where we were last night. We didn't even know we'd be there…or why he's doing all of this crap in the first place!”

Billy looked at me. “Well, GG seems to know how to find you, so maybe that's it. As far as why he's doing this, he said Gilles and Edgar wanted to attract our attention.” She angled her head. “You don't believe him?”

“No, I don't think I do. Gilles is very old; he's been around long enough to know that most ghost killers are good, especially the ones that respond to the sort of the things they did in Marin and the other attacks. I think there's more to all of this, and I think Calvin has an idea of what that is.” She was pensive and I decided to lighten the mood a little. “So tell me, when did you become so kind and nurturing?” Playful sarcasm seeped into my voice. “I didn't even know you knew the definition of those words.”

Her response came in the form of a pernicious glare, and I laughed outright. She pushed her chair back loudly and stomped out of the room. I laughed again.

I wandered around the house for the next forty-five minutes, snooping around like a curious child. I'd been there once before, but only on the main level, and prior to Phil's renovations. The main living room, which was at the front of the house and ridiculously huge, was sparsely furnished on my first visit. Now the walls were lined with bookcases and filing cabinets, with the exception of one section that housed a long, narrow table loaded with computer monitors and CPUs. A large library table was centered at one end, and a low round table with four comfortable club chairs at the other end in front of the fireplace. The library table was piled high with papers and books, some of which I recognized as Vokkel's journals. A desk chair flanked one side, and I assumed Phil used this as his desk area. There were also stacks and stacks of boxes taking up most of the remaining floor space. A few of the bookcases were occupied with neat little labels beneath the contents, but otherwise it didn't appear that Phil was making much of a dent in what he'd accumulated.

I climbed up to the second floor. Calvin's door was closed, but I found three other guest bedrooms and two bathrooms, as well as a master suite with its own en-suite bath. Based on the clothes strewn around the room, I figured that was the one Eric occupied. The top floor, which was a wide open space, contained a variety of workout equipment at one end and a large dojo mat at the other. The mat was flanked by racks containing an assortment of wooden bokkens, tantos, nunchakus, and a box filled with smaller items similar in size to my trusty yellow number two pencils and Billy's chopsticks. The Watchers probably used this space to get the newbies up to speed and learn the best techniques.

I headed back downstairs toward the kitchen, and as I passed the den, I saw Billy sitting on one of the couches. She was texting with someone…I assumed it was Margie or Justine, but when I looked more closely at her, I noticed a slight blush creeping up her cheeks and the corners of her mouth were upturned in a smile. I moved into the room to see who she was texting—I admit, I was being rude, but her mother wasn't wrong…she didn't have many friends, and curiosity was killing me. When she noticed me, she quickly turned the phone away, but I still caught most of the number, and I was pretty sure it belonged to my friend Mike. I smiled knowingly, but before I could say anything, we heard the rumble of the garage door from the ground level below us. She scowled and shouldered past me.

I followed Billy out and was greeted by Eric coming up the stairs from the garage. He handed the bag of clothes to Billy, who took them without comment and headed up to Calvin's room.

Eric went to the kitchen and I padded along behind him, sat at the table, and asked, “So, what's the story with mission control in the living room?”

He looked at me quizzically and smiled. “That's all Carol's stuff; she monitors our activities around the world, and she keeps Ghosts and Ghouls running from there. She also communicates,
clandestinely
,” he winked, “with our other Watcher groups around the world.” The Watchers and the ghost killers like
and
need to keep a low profile. Vokkel wasn't the only jerk out there that knew about us and what we could do, and what the ghosts and demons could do. There's always someone lurking around that wants to harness these powers, and it's the Watchers job to keep us all safe. Had today's technology been available when Vokkel was running his institutions, the Watchers could have intervened much sooner than they had. I'd heard Carol mention algorithms and programs that monitor general communications in search of keywords that might pertain to us and what we do. If she came across something, she could send someone to investigate. It was all very high-tech
and
big-brother like, but I was glad it existed.

“Does she live here?” I didn't see any indication that she was occupying one of the bedrooms, and wondered how she monitored things if she wasn't here all the time.

“She used to, but now she's got it all tied into her smart phone and she gets alerts or something if things go weird or whatever. And she's got that crotch-rocket she rides around on, so if she needs to get here fast,” he smiled, “she can.” Carol drove a Ducati 1199 Panigale R. I made the mistake of asking for a ride home once. The woman had no concept of speed limits…she swerved in and out of traffic like a Frogger game on steroids, and didn't really care that her passengers were screaming in terror while holding on for dear life. But Eric was right; she could probably get from one end of the city to the other in no time.

“Why is it all here and not at her own house?”

“Carol likes her down time; she doesn't want to look at a bank of computers when she gets home from whatever it is she does all day long.” Carol was a freelance programmer when she wasn't doing work for the Watchers or off killing ghosts, so I knew she had to have some equipment at her house. But I understood her reasons, because like most of us, I didn't have much of a life outside of ghost killing, and my apartment was my sanctuary.

“What about you; does it bug you living here all the time?”

“Not really. It's rent free, and to be honest, aside from Phil and Carol dropping in all the time, we only get a few visitors a month. Of course, if it's a newbie, I'm pretty busy training and they usually stay with us for a while, but we haven't had one in a few months. I'm thinking of getting a cat, though,” he said offhandedly.

Billy appeared in the doorway and said, rather matter-of-factly, “I'll be with Calvin in the den for a while.” That was Billy-speak for “Stay away while I grill the kid”.

I decided I wanted to run home to get a change of clothes and grab a shower. Before she could disappear, I said, “I want to run home. You want to call Margie and ask her to put a bag together for you?” She nodded and headed back down the hallway.

I turned to Eric. “You okay with me leaving for an hour or so?”

“Go, we'll be fine. Pete's guys will be here any minute, and I've seen Billy in action. If she can't take out that bastard demon, we're all screwed anyway.” There was a twinkle in his eyes when he said her name; I'd seen something similar the night before from Mike. I thought maybe he had a little crush on her, which would be the second man in two days to show interest in Billy. Wonders never ceased.

After I showered and put a bag together, I stopped at Justine's to pick up Billy's overnight bag. As usual, Margie answered the door. She wasn't her normal cheerful self though, and I assumed our current situation was causing her concern. If it bothered her, I figured it must really be bothering Justine…and I was right.

“Come in, Justine wants a quick chat. There's Billy's bag.” She pointed to a duffle on the floor of the hallway. “Grab it on your way out.” She disappeared down the hall and I went to the living room where I assumed Justine was.

“Oh, George dear, how are you?” she asked sweetly. She always asked sweetly and I loved her for it. I kissed her cheek, said I was fine, and took the arm chair nearest her.

“And the boy, how is he?” she asked.

“Honestly, I don't know. He's pretty messed up, and get this…he says it was GG who convinced him to find us.”

“She has been tried and true to you and your mother, and I am relieved to know she is involved. However, I am very concerned about your safety, and of course, Billy's. This teenager and the demon he is associating with, killing people with…I discussed it at length with Margie last night and we are both of the conclusion that this is a terribly unusual situation. Does the boy understand what he has done…what he is doing?”

“I'm not sure. He said he doesn't remember killing those people. But I get the impression he's not telling the truth, at least the whole truth. You were right, by the way…there's definitely a connection to Vokkel. Phil's trying to find more information on that, and Billy's having a little chat with the kid now, so hopefully she'll get something from him too.”

She sighed gracefully…Justine did everything gracefully. “Are you sure that you are strong enough to face it, to kill it?” Her beautiful eyes were pleading that I would say yes, so I did, and I did it with conviction. She reached over and patted my hand. “Good…now go. I do not like the idea of Billy being alone with this boy any longer than necessary.”

I smiled at her, rose from my chair, and gave her another kiss on the cheek. As I crossed the living room toward the front hall, she said, “George, I expect that one or both of you will update us regularly.” This wasn't a question or request…it was a mandate. I gave her a sloppy salute and nodded.

The rest of the day was about as exciting as watching paint dry. Billy spent hours on and off with Calvin—he seemed to need quite a few breaks, especially for snacks. At one point, she was even giving him a tour of the house. When they finally parted for good she was quietly solemn. I spent a few minutes badgering her in an attempt to find out what they'd discussed, which ended in a sharp refusal on her part to share their conversation—she'd rather wait until this evening so she didn't have to repeat herself. At that point she stormed off, probably to the top floor where she'd hopefully work off some of the mood she was in. I asked Eric if I could use one of the computers in the living room so I could run the name Gilles d'Aubray.

We don't know who the demons were before death, so having an actual name was a little exciting. Finding the person in the annals of history—via the Internet, of course—was another thing all together. When I typed in Gilles's name, I found a couple of hits, and one was our demon.

Gilles d'Aubray, born in Nice, France in 1622, was the youngest son of a moderately noble French family. He became a musketeer at the age of eighteen, and soon gained a reputation as a boisterous and spirited fighter. His reputation put him on the fast track for advancement until 1642, when his family was disgraced and their nobility status was stripped. Although d'Aubray was able to remain a musketeer, his position was now stagnant and he was often considered unworthy of advancement due to his family's disgrace. In 1645 a series of gruesome murders plagued the upper wealthy classes, and the investigation eventually led them to d'Aubray, who just prior to his execution, admitted that he killed to avenge his family's name. Because of the sensationalism of d'Aubray's crimes, many were still familiar with him decades after his death, and claimed to have seen his ghost wandering the streets of Nice in search of more victims.

Along with the article was a portrait of d'Aubray. He stood with one leg pulled up and perched on a low stone wall. He was wearing a ruffled long sleeve shirt, waistcoat, petticoat with stockings, and leather square-toed shoes tied with a wide ribbon closure. Topping the ensemble off was a wide brimmed hat with one side pinned up, and an elaborate feather tucked into the other side. I was staring at our demon in all his 17
^th
century finery. I printed out the article and the portrait and laid them both on Phil's library table so he'd see them when he arrived later in the day.

Feeling satisfied with my search on our evil musketeer, I decided a nap was in order and retired to the den for the remainder of the afternoon. I woke up a couple of hours later just as everyone was arriving.