TWO
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Alison handed the man a
cup of tea then sat beside Liz on the settee. They were back in the
flat, their mystery doom-monger in the armchair only recently vacated
by the solicitor.
The man took a sip at his
tea then put it aside. 'Miss Parker, my name's Carl Seevers and I'm a
doctor. I was a friend of the late Daniel Robinson and I have to warn
you never to visit that house.'
'Because?'
'Two weeks ago - that'd
be just after his encounter with you - Daniel came to me claiming the
house was the subject of nocturnal visitations.'
Alison frowned.
'Nocturnal...?'
'According to him, at
nights, it was being called upon by a creature.'
'What "creature"?'
said Liz.
'He couldn't say. He
never got a good look at it but he'd wake in the night to see it at
the window; a black shapeless mass with burning red eyes and an aura
of purest evil. Whatever it was, it'd hunch there, gazing in at him
as though it were probing the manor for a means of entry. I of course
dismissed it as a delusion caused by what we in the medical
profession know as Sleep-'
'-Paralysis,' said Liz.
'A tendency to wake in the early hours, unable to move and convinced
you're in the presence of a being or beings of purest evil.'
'Quite.'
'I take it you were
wrong,' said Liz.
'Seemingly so, because, a
week ago, he told me that, whatever the thing was, it was only a
question of time before it got into the house - and he wasn't going
to lie in bed waiting for it. That night, when it arrived, he was
going to be ready. He'd be waiting outside, both barrels primed, and
he was going to kill it.'
'And?'
'That was the night he
died.'
'Except,' said Alison,
'his solicitor claimed he died of natural causes.'
'That depends how you
define natural causes,' said Seevers. 'When his body was found, it
was just an empty shell. Every single one of his internal organs had
been liquefied. It was recorded as a natural death because the
coroner didn't know what else to call it.'
'That's all fine,' said
Alison, 'but none of it answers the obvious question.'
'Which is?'
'Why did he leave the
house to me?'
'Did you tell him who
your flatmate was?' asked Liz.
She said, 'Ah.'
Seevers gaze skipped back
and forth between the pair of them. 'Ah what?'
So Liz told him what she
did for a living.
He said, 'The government
has an occult investigator?'
'You'd be amazed what the
government has. By leaving the house to my flatmate, he knew he'd
attract my attention. Which leaves the obvious question. Why not just
call on me in the first place?'
'I might be able to
venture a guess,' he said. 'Daniel had this notion that the house
contained a secret. From where he got the idea I can only speculate.
It might have been down to some comment a relative had made, I'm not
sure. At the time I put that too down to delusion. Presumably he
didn't want outsiders clomping around the site until after he'd had a
chance to fully explore it. He'd only been there a week at this
point. He'd recently inherited it from his cousin Tom Radcliffe.'
'And his cousin?' said
Alison.
'Had also died.'
'The same way as Daniel?'
'No one knows. Only his
head was found. What kind of state his body was in was anyone's
guess.'
'And because of his
desire not to have official agencies stomping around all over the
house,' said Liz, 'Danny boy's gone the same way as his cousin.'
'So it seems.'
'He was no Einstein was
he?'
''It does seem that
Daniel was somewhat foolish in his actions,' Seevers concurred. 'And
that's why, Miss Sanford, you have to agree with me. Bearing in mind
what's happened to all previous incumbents of Delgado Manor, there's
no way in this world Alison Parker can even visit that place.'
'As a matter of fact, I
agree the opposite.'
They both watched her
like she'd just declared her love for Hitler.
She didn't care about
that. She just rose to her feet. 'It sounds to me like, if there's
one thing Alison Parker has to do, it's to claim her inheritance.'
Still seated, Alison
clenched her fist and gave a delighted but silent shout of, 'Yes!'
'Dr Sanford,' Seevers
protested, 'you can't be serious. Haven't you been listening to me?
I've just said that everyone who's ever owned that house has ended up
dead.'
'Which is exactly why she
should go there. If something kills every owner, I'd have thought the
best way to find out what it is is for her to go there and see what
tries to slaughter her.'
'And the fact that you're
putting her life at risk?'
'Doesn't matter.'
'I wouldn't go that far,'
said Alison.
'It doesn't matter,' said
Liz, 'because she's not going.'
'What?' Alison jumped to
her feet. 'You just said-'
'That Alison Parker's
going to Delgado Manor.'
'And, in case you hadn't
noticed, I'm Alison Parker.'
'No you're not.'
'No?' She frowned. 'Then
who is?'
'I am.'
'Liz,' said Alison,
'you're not me. Even in your best dreams you're not me.'
'No?'
'No.'
'That's funny because
suddenly I feel like telling everyone I am.'
*
'So? What? I stay here
while you go there and take all the glory that's rightfully mine?'
'That's right.' Liz
grabbed a magazine from where it lay slumped across one arm of the
settee, opened it and flicked through till she found a mostly white
page. She tore it out, discarded the magazine, borrowed a pen from
the doctor and scribbled on the page. 'These are my measurements.'
Now she took a card from her coat. 'This is my expense account debit
card.' She handed it to Alison.
The girl studied it. 'How
come they don't let you have a credit card?'
'It's a long story.' Liz
neatly folded the page and handed it to her flatmate.
The girl studied the two
items she'd just been handed. 'What have these to do with me?'
'This. I want you to go
to town and get me the clothes I'd buy if I were you.'
'How many?'
'About a week's worth.
'And why should I?'
'Because if you don't, I
won't tell you what I find at the manor and you won't have anything
to use in your book.'
'She writes books?' said
Seevers.
'Don't even ask,' said
Liz.
Alison said, 'And what's
to stop me from just going to the house anyway?'
'I am,' said Liz, 'and
I've got the weight of Government behind me. That means you're not
going, and the Queen agrees with me.'
Alison sighed. She
checked the card and paper. 'I'll try Tatyana's
Dungeon.'
And, with that, the girl
was gone.
Now Frogmella was out of
the way, it was time to get rid of Seevers. Liz said, 'Now, I suggest
we get you back to wherever it is you came from.'
'The railway station.'
'And, on the way out,
I'll tell you all about my exciting adventures.'
*
Out on the street, Liz
watched Seevers climb into the taxi she'd ordered, and then speed off
up the road. Now he was gone, she pulled out her mobile phone and
made a second call. This time to the man who called himself her boss.
'Lou?' she said. 'It's Liz. I need background info. Three people; Tom
Radcliffe, Dr Carl Seevers and Daniel Robinson. And while you're at
it, I'll need the murder case files for a man called Valentyne
Delgado.'
*
'You'll never pass
yourself off as me, you know. You're too lanky, your hair's too rough
and you've got no curves.'
'I'll take that as a
compliment then, shall I?' Liz was sat before Alison's dressing table
mirror, a towel around her waist, as her flatmate tried to make her
look like her.
Needless to say, the girl
was taking forever over it. She'd already done Liz's lips, now she
was burying her eyes in enough eye liner to make Shirley Manson balk.
Liz looked a complete idiot. Her hair? Too rough? That was the least
of her concerns. Thanks to Alison, it was now purple, and, as for the
clothes the girl had bought her...
But what could she do? If
she wanted to pass herself off as someone, she had to look like her.
Sod's law guaranteed that, as soon as he was out the door, Rowling
would have phoned Delgado Manor to tell them the deal was done - and
it was a safe bet he'd have described the new owner to them.
Of course, there was
nothing Liz could do to disguise the fact she was 4 inches too tall.
She was just going to have to hope that, as Alison's height was more
or less average, he wouldn't have seen fit to mention it.
The girl retrieved a
small bottle with some sort of black liquid in it. She removed its
lid, which had a brush attached to its underside, planted one hand on
Liz's left breast and started painting its nipple black.
'What're you doing?' said
Liz.
'You wanted me to make
you look like me.'
'You've got black-painted
nipples?'
'Of course I have. What
if I bump into an unexpected tryst? I want to look my best don't I?'
'And you wonder why I
won't take you anywhere with me.'
'Just wait till we fit
the nipple rings.'
'What!?!'
'Look. It's simple.'
Alison held up what she claimed was a body-piercing gun, though to
Liz, it looked more like the harpoon gun from a whaling ship. Her
flatmate said, 'I hold it against the area in question, press this
trigger and wham, it's straight through and out the other side. Five
presses, wham, wham, wham, wham and wham, and you're done.'
'Five? Alison, I don't
know where you learned biology but a human being doesn't have five
nipples.'
'No but you want all the
other piercings don't you?'
'What other piercings?'
'Upstairs, downstairs and
in the middle.'
'No.'
'So you're just playing
at this. You don't want authenticity.'
'Sod authenticity.'
'It'll improve your sex
life.'
'I don't care if it
improves my TV reception, I'm not doing it.'
'You had your ears
pierced didn't you?'
Liz lifted her hair to
show her ears in all their intact glory.
'Want me to pierce them?'
said Alison.
'No!'
'Your nostrils?'
'No!'
'You know, this gun cost
a fortune. I bought it especially for you. Barry, in the shop said,
"Pierce flesh? Al, this thing can shred steel." And do you
let me use it? Oh no, you're too busy thinking about yourself, like
you always do.'
Liz gave her the look she
felt most appropriate; and the girl sighed.
Finally having to admit
defeat in her quest to punch holes in her flatmate, Alison put the
gun on the dressing table, picked up the lipstick she'd abandoned in
order to take the gun from its box, and got back to the clearly less
therapeutic job of blacking-up her flatmate's udders. 'I still don't
see why I can't come with you.'
'Because it's gonna be a
bit of a give-away if two Alison Parkers show up.'
'No but if you don't have
to be Liz Sanford, I don't have to be me. I could pretend to be your
assistant Maisie and wear sunglasses and say groovy a lot.'
'Why groovy?'
'That's what I'd say if I
were an assistant to me.'
'Sometimes I worry about
you.'
'Fine. Have it your own
way. I'll just stay here and vegetate while you run around having an
adventure.'
'You won't be here.'
'No? Then where will I
be?'
'Frank's.'
'Why?'
'Because whatever killed
the previous owners might come here looking for you. That's why
you're going to stay with Frank. Get me a piece of paper.'
Alison yanked a tissue
from the box by the mirror.
'Pen,' said Liz.
The girl grabbed an
eyebrow pencil and handed her both items.
Liz scribbled a note on
the paper. 'While you're at Frank's, don't answer the door to anyone
you don't know and, if anything goes wrong, call this number.'
Alison studied the number
she'd just been handed. 'What is it?'
'You're better off not
knowing, but listen to this and listen good. Under no circumstances
call that number unless you're moments away from death and there's
absolutely no hope of escape. Got that?
'Got it.'
'To call it otherwise
could cause disaster - not just for you but for everyone who's
walking the face of this planet. Got that?'
'Got it.' Alison picked
up her mobile phone and, consulting the sheet her flatmate had just
given her, started to prod its keys.
Liz grabbed the phone
from her and jabbed it off with her thumb. 'What're you doing?'
'Calling that number.'
'What did I just tell
you?'
'You said don't call it.'
'Then why're you calling
it?'
'I didn't think you meant
it.'
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