Tower of Silence (35 page)

Emily had expected to be able to overpower Selina March with ease, but Selina fought back like a wild thing, her hands scrabbling at Emily’s neck. The feel of the thin dry fingers was so repulsive that Emily jerked back, half falling into a corner of the stone room.

She was aware of Joanna shouting to her to grab the oil lamp and use it as a cosh, but she was dizzy and disoriented. She drew in a shaky breath, and saw Selina dart across the room towards the steps.

‘She’s going back up into the tower!’ shouted Joanna. ‘Oh, hell’s teeth, why can’t I get out of this bloody chair!’ She dragged uselessly at the snaking chains.

‘It’s all right,’ gasped Emily, clambering to her feet. ‘I’ll go after her—’ She stood uncertainly for a moment, the room still a bit fuzzy, and then her vision cleared, and she realised that Selina had already vanished back up the
stairs. There was the sound of the stone trapdoor being pushed back, and then of scampering feet. ‘She’s going up inside the tower,’ said Emily. ‘But at least I can go for help now—Oh shit, no, I can’t, can I, because the minute I try to get to a phone she’ll be back down here to finish you off—’

‘You’re sounding like a Victorian melodrama,’ said Joanna. ‘But you’re right. You’ll have to follow her, Emily–but for pity’s sake take one of the lamps—’

‘Yes. Oh, bugger it, I left my mobile phone at home.’

‘Well, at least you’re sounding as if you’ve come out of the Victorian melodrama,’ said Joanna, and grinned. ‘Never mind the phone, just go.’

‘Yes.’ Emily paused to snatch up the lamp, and then pushed the second one to where Joanna could reach it. ‘Whack her over the head if she comes back,’ she said. ‘It’ll be horrid, but if it’s her or you…’

‘I’ve already worked that one out,’ said Joanna dryly. ‘For goodness’ sake get after her, and see where she’s gone. If you can safely get to a phone, do so.’

‘OK,’ said Emily, and went back up the stairs.

The trouble was that once beyond the hidden room, there was no knowing where Selina had gone. She might be anywhere, thought Emily in trepidation, standing in the stone-floored room just inside the tower’s entrance, and looking about her. She might have gone back to Teind House or she might still be hiding in the tower somewhere. Her instinct was to beat it down to the main road and the phone box on the corner, but that might be to leave Joanna at Selina’s mercy. And there was no way
of knowing how easy it would be for Joanna, chained in a chair, to fight Selina off. I can’t risk it, thought Emily. I’ll have to find her first–I’ll have to go up to the tower’s top and make sure she isn’t up there. She thought she would hear if Selina went sneaking back into the hidden room, and she thought she could be back down the stairs quickly enough to get her away from Joanna.

She hesitated at the foot of the twisting stairs, holding up the lamp and trying to see upwards. But the stair wound sharply around to the right, and after the first few steps there was only a thick blackness. Emily drew in another deep breath, and, steadying herself against the wall with one hand, began to climb.

Even with the oil lamp’s thin light it was a spooky experience. The higher you went, the colder it felt, and the more you were aware of leaving the safe familiar ground behind. Emily tried not to remember how narrow the tower was, and how it might sway a little in a high wind. She tried not to remember that Selina March was almost certainly hiding up here, waiting to spring out and strangle her.

She could hear the wind keening in and out of the narrow windows now, which presumably meant she was nearing the halfway mark. If you were fanciful, you might almost think the wind sounded like somebody moaning, very softly, in the dark. Selina, mourning her murdered childhood friends? Don’t listen. Just keep going, said Emily firmly to herself. If she’s up here you’ll just have to knock her out with the lamp, and then belt back down the stairs to get help.

There
was
someone crying up here. There was someone crouching in the dark, sobbing dismally with loneliness and fear. The sound tore at Emily’s heart, but she set her teeth and went on, because this was something that absolutely had to be done, and it was no good hoping that rescue was at hand–in the shape of Patrick, dashing in and scooping her up in his arms? don’t be ridiculous!–because there was not going to be any rescue apart from what Emily could contrive for herself.

And then she saw the thin ingress of light just ahead of her, and she came up onto the cramped half-landing, and saw Krzystof lying huddled in a corner, a messy, bloodied handkerchief tied around one leg.

And Selina March standing over him, moaning.

The madness had faded from her eyes; Emily saw that at once, although she did not know whether she could trust it. But her expression was bewildered, and as Emily came onto the last step Selina put both hands over her eyes, as if to shield them. Emily saw that she was trembling, and was aware of a dreadful pity for the poor creature. Yes, but she’s
mad
, remember? She tried to strangle you? She’s
killed
people for goodness’ sake! She said so.

From his huddled-over corner, Krzystof said, ‘Emily–thank God to see you! Are you all right?’

‘Yes, and so’s Joanna–she’s downstairs in a secret room,’ said Emily because this was the one thing he would be wanting to hear. Even in the dimness she saw his eyes flood with delight, exactly as Joanna’s had flooded with delight when Emily had said Krzystof was in
Inchcape. Marvellous to know you could make someone look like that.

She said, rapidly, ‘We’ll sort her out in a minute, and we’ll sort you out in a minute as well. Uh–are you much hurt?’ It looked pretty gory, but it might not be too bad.

‘It’s bloody painful,’ he said. ‘But I’ll live.’

‘Did Selina—’

‘Selina? God, no! It was that bitch, Mary Maskelyne. Emily, listen, she’s gone off in a car somewhere with some lone driver, and we’ve got to get the police or somebody after her—’

There was a bad moment when Emily thought: but I can’t possibly cope with all this! I can’t cope with Selina and Mary Maskelyne, and with Krzystof injured and Joanna chained up—It’s too much. I don’t know what to do. And then her mind snapped back on course, because of course she had got to cope with it, and of course she would think of something to do. And Krzystof was here, which was a remarkable comfort.

He was speaking to Selina now, saying with extraordinary gentleness, ‘Selina–I think we should all go back down to the ground, and get you home. Don’t you think we should do that?’

‘We’ll both come with you,’ said Emily. ‘I’ll make us some tea–you’ll like that. Remember how you said I made a nice cup of tea?’

She was just wondering if she dared reach out to touch Selina when Selina lowered her hands from her face and said, ‘I can’t go home yet. I’ve got to reach the others.’
Turning, she went up the remaining stairs, towards the very top of the tower.

Emily said, ‘Oh shit,’ and started up the stairs after her.

The Round Tower’s summit was the most frightening place in the world. As Emily reached the top of the stairs she saw with panic that it was open to the skies at the centre, and then she saw that there were gaping holes in the surrounding wall where, at various times, the stones had crumbled and fallen to the ground. The wind was icy; it whistled through the jagged holes, and the tiny platform was perilously uneven. Here and there were the ghost-shapes of bird skeletons, heaped forlornly on the stones.

Emily felt sick and dizzy from the sheer height and because of the jagged holes through which she could see the countryside spread out far below them. Her stomach was turning over and over with vertigo, but she kept tight hold of the oil lamp, and she tried not to think how extremely high up they were, and above all she prayed to anything that might be listening that she would not have to fight with Selina March up here. Because we’d both be over the side and smashed to a pulp on the ground below within seconds, she thought.

Selina was pressed back against the wall facing Emily; the stonework immediately behind her looked fairly sound, but there was a large gap in the wall on her left.

Emily said, ‘Selina–for pity’s sake, come back down, and let’s go home and get warm.’

‘No—’ It came out in the high-pitched frightened wail of a child, and it made the hairs prickle on the back of Emily’s neck. ‘No, I must wait for the others,’ said Selina. ‘They’re so close to me now, you see. I told you, didn’t I, that we had gone back–that this was our second chance. And we’ve cheated the men so far, haven’t we?’ The eager, trusting voice of the child was blotting everything out now. ‘We’ve hidden from them, and we’ve only got to be quiet a very little longer now. Mouse-quiet, we’ve got to be–that’s my daddy’s word. Be mouse-quiet, Selina, he says. He’ll be proud of me when he sees I’ve got away this time.’ She stretched out a hand. ‘You can be with us as well,’ she said. ‘You can meet all my friends–Douglas and the rest. He’s Canadian, Douglas, and he’s very clever. When he grows up he’ll be rich. I might marry him when he’s grown-up. And there’s Christy, of course. Oh, you’ll like Christy. She’s so pretty and she’s such fun. She thinks up such good games for us all. She’s the leader of the group, really.’

Emily said, very gently, ‘You’ve missed them very much, haven’t you?’

‘Oh yes. I never said, because the aunts and Great-uncle Matthew wouldn’t have understood. But it doesn’t matter any longer, because they’re all very close to us now–can’t you feel that they’re close? Listen—’ She lifted her head, her eyes bright, and just for a moment the wind whipped at her hair and it was no longer a mousy, rather drab, middle-aged woman who stood there; it was a pretty, bright-eyed little girl, eager to be off with her friends. ‘That’s Douglas calling now, I’m sure of it,’ she
said, and whirled round to lean out through the gap in the stones.

Emily started forward at once. ‘Selina, don’t lean out—’

She heard Selina call out, ‘I’m up here! Can you see me! We’ve escaped this time! Oh, do wait for me—’

There was a soft cracking sound, and the old stonework seemed to sigh and groan. And then it fell away, and as Selina fell forward in a jumble of flailing arms and legs Emily had the incredible impression that she heard a pleased laugh inside the wind, and several childish voices calling delightedly, ‘Selina! Selina, run to catch us up! Hurry! Oh, do hurry! We’ve been waiting so long for you…waiting so long for you, Selina…’

And then the sounds vanished, and there was only the wind sobbing in and out of the old stones, and Emily was alone on the platform.

By the time Mary got outside Teind House, Gillian Campbell’s car had already reached the main road. She could hear the engine, very faintly, roaring into the distance.

She stood for a moment, uncertain what to do. It was completely dark now and Gillian Campbell would presumably be going off to tell people that the escaped prisoner had been hiding out in Teind House. I’ll have to move on, thought Mary. I’ll come back later and deal with Selina March, of course, but I can’t risk doing it tonight. But where do I go now?

She walked down the narrow path that wound away from the house, the lost feeling increasing. She was so
used to the structured days inside Broadacre and Moy, where people constantly told you what to do and where to go, that it was bewildering being on her own. Wait, though, how about returning to the tower? Yes, she had to go back there to check on Krzystof Kent; she had almost forgotten that. For a moment this was worrying, because she had never forgotten anything so vitally important before. Was it because she was concerned about Gillian’s bringing police and Moy people out here, or was it because she was so completely on her own, now that Christabel had left her? But she did not need Christabel, the faithless cow; she had managed perfectly well by herself.

Yes, but Gillian had got away, and then Mary had almost forgotten about Krzystof Kent. Not good to have done that. Best to go back up into the tower, and deal with Krzystof. In any case, the tower might be a good place to go. The police would go to Teind House first; they would not immediately search the tower. And Krzystof might as well be finished off in case he gave the police any more information. Mary tried to remember what she had told him. Nothing much, really. Nothing important.

But now the night had a purpose to it again–Mary had not liked those moments of aimlessness, of not knowing where she should go or what she should do. There had been a dangerously off-balance feel about everything: as if the ground might be moving, or as if there were flaws in the dark skies, and the darkness might suddenly tear open and dreadful faces leer down at her. As if the
world might be enclosed in a crust, and sometimes, when you were at your most afraid or most angry or most powerful, the very force of your emotions could break through that crust, so that you saw other worlds and other existences.

As she went back through the little orchard and approached the tower, she wondered what she would see tonight if the crust really did split. Would she see her mother and father, locked grotesquely in that last embrace, her father with the knitting needle dug into his brain, her mother half asphyxiated with the chopped-off fingers thrust down her throat…? Or would it be Darren Clark drained of blood, looking like a white slug, squirming on the ground…? Or the child they had taken from her all those years ago–Darren Clark’s daughter. How odd that she had not thought about that child for years, and now she was thinking about her quite strongly. It might even be Ingrid she would see within that chasm; Ingrid, drugged and helpless, her cheating deceitful lips cut off her face…

Ingrid. Yes, if anyone was close to her tonight, it was Ingrid. Was that possible? Just as Christabel had once walked with Mary, might Ingrid now be doing so? Where did the murdered go after they were dead? Christabel had been murdered by Indian separatists fifty years ago, and Ingrid had been murdered as well–Mary had done that herself.

But the skies remained dark and smooth, and Mary reminded herself that she was strong and invincible and
there were no cracks in the world, and she remembered as well that she had got to remain free because of the headlines they would put out in tomorrow’s newspapers, and reports on tonight’s television.