The unhappy medium 2 tom.., p.26
The Unhappy Medium 2: Tom Fool: A Supernatural Comedy, page 26
‘Given that we have the known factors I just mentioned, it means that we will find an overlap that incorporates security, range, association and climate control.’
‘Which is? Come on, Barlow, get on with it and just tell us, will you?’ snapped Jameson.
‘I am getting on with it,’ Newton shot back. ‘The only viable possibility is –’
‘Havotech HQ, Cambridge,’ said Viv quietly.
‘Er ... yes,’ said Newton, suddenly bereft of his impending thunder. ‘Er… how?’
Viv held up her phone.
‘Your daughter just told me,’ she said with eyebrow raised.
‘She did?’ asked Newton.
‘Yes,’ said Viv. ‘And she’s none too pleased that you’ve been ignoring her texts telling you that since yesterday.’
‘Ah,’ said Newton.
Viv looked at her screen.
‘She says she overheard Carnatt at dinner last night. Here,’ she passed Newton the phone. ‘Why don’t you read it? Better late than never, eh?’
There was a suppressed snigger from the assembled Purgatorians which served to twist the knife in Newton’s ego a good 360 degrees in both directions.
‘Well, that proves my hypothesis,’ he muttered, hoping to reclaim some dignity from the moment, but fooling no one.
‘Cambridge then,’ said Bennet from the Höstöga quilt cover. ‘Let’s tool up and get over to Havotech, get our paintings back!’
‘Stand down, Action Man,’ said Newton. ‘If you think you can storm into Havotech, think again. The place is a fortress.’
‘It is?’ said Bennet. ‘Er, why?’
‘It’s tech. Cutting edge tech. It’s full of the sort of stuff that industrial espionage was invented for. They have laser trip wires, door locks with security codes that Alan Turing and Deep Thought could not crack together if they had twenty years undisturbed. And that’s just the tech security, there’s also an army of ex-SAS nutjobs walking their dogs in the grounds, just praying for someone foolish enough to break in.’
‘So, are you saying we can’t get in there then, Dr Barlow?’ asked Jameson.
‘No, I’m not,’ said Newton. ‘There is probably something we can do if we are subtle. However, one of Bennet’s banzai charges is going to end up as an all-you-can-eat buffet for the German shepherds. I’m gonna need a bit of time, work out how we can make the most of our somewhat unique skill base to outwit the security.’
‘How long do you need?’ asked Jameson.
‘Not a clue,’ said Newton. ‘I suggest we get going, though. We may as well form up somewhere close and stake it out. Hopefully, by the time I’ve got a plan, we can have all our assets in place, ready to roll.’
‘So, we’re going to Cambridge then?’ asked Viv.
‘I am,’ said Newton. ‘You’re not.’
‘Newt –’
‘Nope, no chance, Viv, not a hope in hell,’ said Newton, firmly. ‘You know how I feel about this stuff. You’re not getting your elegant head separated from your body because of me.’
‘But I’m combat ready!’ protested Viv. ‘Ask Bennet.’
‘She’s rather good, actually,’ added Bennet. ‘A natural.’
‘Butt out, Mr Miyagi,’ snapped Newton. ‘Besides, the flat is full of, of…. What is the collective noun – a swarm of monstrosities? A pride? Whatever the term is, they’ll have to be babysat until further notice. There is no way they can stay here alone.’
‘He’s right, Viv,’ said Alex. ‘They do need watching, and you’re the only one free to do it.’
‘Balls,’ said Viv, realising it was true.
‘What about the Bonetaker?’ asked Jameson. ‘Won’t you need him with you?’
‘He’s a blunt instrument,’ replied Newton. ‘This has to be a subtle thing if it’s going to stand any chance of working. We don’t want him flailing around in a laboratory full of pathogens.’
‘Granted,’ said Bennet, ‘but I strongly advise we have him nearby in case we change our minds. There is simply no one to match the old chap for sensitivity.’
Reluctantly, Newton acquiesced. ‘OK, I’m gonna go with you on that, but I want him a ways away and not inside Havotech itself. It could go badly pear-shaped if he went all caveman on the place.’
‘He’s not a caveman!’ said Bennet, rushing to his colleague’s defence. ‘And you should give him a bit more credit than that. He can take orders you know, he’s not an animal.’
‘If you say so,’ said Newton. ‘Anyway, for now, we have to get up to Cambridge. I‘ll start planning on the way. Viv, you get Graham and Lucy and the brothers grim. Congratulations.’
‘On my own?’ protested Viv. ‘Those Hawkhurst brothers are total shits.’
‘We’ll sedate ‘em,’ reassured Jameson. ‘Same as last night, only stronger.’
‘Good,’ said Viv, ‘because they are dreadfully sexist, and the language is appalling. At least it is when I can understand it.’
‘They’ll sleep like babies,’ insisted Jameson.
‘Are we certain we can’t just exorcise ‘em?’ asked Alex, examining a pair of Newton’s boxers against the bright light of the window.
‘We’ve been through this,’ said Jameson. ‘We can’t do it here because then we expose the flat and everyone in it, including Lucy and the Piltdown Man, to two food journalists working for the national papers. It will have to be done later, and with great care.’
‘Later, it’s always later,’ said Newton, grumpily.
‘OK,’ said Viv, ‘I’ll do it, but one of these days I wanna be in at the sharp end.’
‘Right then,’ said Jameson. ‘That’s that. I’ll leave the operational stuff to you lot. I have to get back to my office and prepare the paperwork for this little caper. I have a strong feeling there will be a lot of it. I’ll see myself out.’ Jameson departed.
‘OK, Eric, unless you have anything useful to add, can you get out of my wardrobe now,’ said Newton.
‘Yes, of course, Dr Barlow,’ said the ancient Greek. ‘My apologies. I shall be going now. Much to do, you know. Always so much to do.’
‘Well, go and do it then,’ said Newton, brusquely.
Eric sniffed at Newton’s tone before departing via the closed windows. Alex Sixsmith went to follow.
‘Woahhh, not you professor,’ said Newton. ‘I am going to need you.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Alex, floating back to the floorboards. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Dunno yet,’ said Newton, thinking, ‘but as soon as I work it out I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, Bennet, if I can trouble you to get off my bed, I think we’d best get moving.’
With a badly frustrated Viv peering after him through narrowed eyes, Newton led his team off down the stairs.
CHAPTER 33 – MAKING AN ENTRANC
E
Bennet at the wheel, Newton spent the journey head down in his notebook, scribbling furiously. He greeted every attempt by the vicar to instigate a conversation with a frosty silence until, after an hour, Bennet gave up.
Purgatorian cogs had meanwhile been turning; by the time they approached the business park where Havotech’s glass and steel headquarters sat, a surveillance team was already in place. Two priests had been sitting in their modest car for the past three hours, taking pictures discreetly with a telephoto lens. Sure enough, in the car park beyond the high-security fencing, there was a sizable truck together with the same black vehicles that Giacometti’s men had been driving at the picnic site. No surprise, Peter Carnatt was in one of the images. Newton’s one-time nemesis could be seen clearly, caught by the camera as he gazed arrogantly out of a brightly lit window.
‘So,’ asked Newton. ‘Security?’
‘A few guards and one dog,’ answered one of the priests. ‘Not as much as one would expect. There are a lot of cameras, though, seven on each side. Will be difficult to get past those without being spotted.’
‘Granted,’ agreed Bennet. ‘Any ideas, Dr Barlow?’
‘Working on it,’ said Newton. ‘Alex? You with us?’
‘Here,’ said Sixsmith, appearing beside them all so suddenly that the surveillance team jumped like rabbits.
‘Good,’ said Newton. ‘Because I’m gonna need you to do a quick recce.’
‘Gotcha,’ said Alex. ‘What’s the gen?’
‘I want you to find me a side door,’ explained Newton. ‘There have to be some, fire regs and all that. I vaguely remember them from evacuation drills, but I need them confirmed. Have to beat the back. Can you do a bit of walking through walls for me?’
‘I think so,’ said Alex. ‘It’s been a bit hit and miss recently, but that’s more when I’m trying to be solid; amorphous is the default setting, if you get my drift.’
‘Not really,’ said Newton. ‘Still, what I need you to do is get inside and see what’s rigged to stop us gaining entry. What would be nice are some pictures. Are you able to use that brick Eric issued you with?’
‘What this ironically-named smart phone?’ replied Alex. ‘Don’t ask me how it works, but it’s as gaseous as the rest of me, bit like my shoes. Good job too, really, when you think about it.’
‘I’ve given up trying to understand how it works,’ said Newton, rolling his eyes at the inconsistencies. ‘Another time. For now, I want you through this fence and over there, putting eyes on the exits. And stay on the phone.’
‘Roger,’ said Alex. ‘Moving out.’
Alex drifted to the twenty-foot fence and paused before looking up at the razor wire above him, then calmly passed through like a hard-boiled egg through a slicer. Moving to the cover of some ornamental shrubs, Bennet and Newton nervously followed his passage across the manicured lawns.
Alex was halfway to the edge of the main building when he suddenly stopped. Moving towards Sixsmith through the beam of a spotlight, a guard was approaching, dragged by an enthusiastic Alsatian. Alex Sixsmith, who was very much a cat person – froze.
The guard dog, its animal senses way beyond anything on the human scale, picked up the intruder regardless of his invisibility and started growling.
‘Oh crap,’ said Newton. ‘Alex hates dogs.’
‘Yes,’ replied Bennet. ‘I can tell.’
‘Can the dog see him?’
‘Sense him?’ answered Bennet. ‘Certainly. See him? Possibly. But it won’t be clearly; it can’t do much beyond scaring him.’
The dog was right up to Sixsmith’s ghost now, bristling.
‘Good d … doggy,’ bleated Sixsmith, paralysed in place. ‘Newton! What do I do?’
‘Let me talk to him,’ said Bennet. Newton handed over his iPhone. ‘Alex, this is Bennet. It’s OK, honestly. He’s more scared of you than you are of him. Dogs are simply terrified of ghosts. He can’t possibly hurt you.’
‘I don’t like dogs,’ declared Alex. ‘Ask Newton, I’m a cat person.’
‘It can sense you, and it’s freaking out,’ said Bennet.
‘It’s mutual,’ muttered Alex, looking at the wide eyes and bared teeth no more than a yard away.
‘Blimey, Satan,’ said its handler. ‘What on earth has got into you? Ain’t nuffink there, ya stupid mutt.’
‘You need to show him who’s boss,’ suggested Bennet.
‘Er… how?’ asked Alex angrily. ‘Because he looks pretty assertive from where I am.’
‘Just shoo him away,’ suggested Bennet.
‘Shoo?’ exclaimed Alex, in a rising falsetto. ‘It’s an attack dog, not a pigeon!’
‘Move towards him, raise your arms. Try to make yourself look bigger,’ suggested Bennet.
The dog began a horrible growl, almost as if it was trying to put Alex off the idea. But with Bennet’s urging, Sixsmith finally threw his phobia to the wind and advanced at the dog, arms held up before him, fingers clawed like a B-movie vampire. Sure enough, it panicked the poor animal, and it backed shakily away, releasing a pathetic whimper. With its tail firmly between its legs, it dashed behind its handler until Alex was almost on top of them. Howling, its handler in hot pursuit, the Alsatian cracked; breaking into a fearful gallop, it dashed away into the darkness.
‘Well done, Dr Sixsmith,’ said Bennet.
‘Bloody good job you can’t be dead and incontinent at the same time,’ said Alex.
Bennet handed the phone back.
‘OK, Alex, chop-chop,’ said Newton. ‘Let’s get moving again.’
‘No peace for the wicked,’ said Alex. He moved up to the building, flitting spectrally until they lost sight of him amongst the shadows. ‘OK,’ he said, finally. ‘I’m following a wall now, heading right. Nothing door-like so far.’
‘Keep going,’ said Newton. ‘There will be one somewhere.’
After a minute, Alex spoke into the phone.
‘Bingo!’
‘What you got?’ asked Newton.
‘Firedoor. Glass job. Corridor inside is pretty dark, but I’m picking up a few LED things, red and green lights.’
‘OK, that’s gonna be CCTV and alarms,’ said Newton. ‘Green means on, I’m guessing. Can you pass through?’
‘Already have,’ said Alex. ‘What am I looking for?’
‘Junction boxes, wires, switches.’ said Newton.
‘The wire goes into the wall,’ said Alex.
‘So, put you head through,’ said Newton. ‘There’s going to be a cavity. Find the box it leads to and shut it down.’
‘Ow,’ said Alex, after a pause.
‘What?’ asked Newton.
‘Sorry,’ said Alex. ‘Solid again. Give me a sec, I’ll get it.’
There was a pause.
‘Bingo!’ said Alex. ‘Found, fixed and er… broken.’
‘Thank you,’ said Newton. ‘I suspected we’d get in there in the end.’
‘This is all well and good,’ said Bennet. ‘But how exactly are we supposed to get over the fence? It’s alright for Alex, but we can’t pull that stunt can we?’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Newton.
‘You have?’
‘The Bonetaker. He’s going to have to throw us over.’
Bennet turned to look at Newton, his expression a blend of bravado and misgiving. ‘Go on.’
‘See those shrubs over there, the low ones?’ Bennet followed Newton’s gaze. Sure enough, no more than eight feet from the fence, a tastefully arranged mound of dwarf conifers was rising to a height of no more than three feet. ‘I think we’ll be OK if we land on those.’
‘And if we … don’t?’
‘Multiple fractures, screaming, dogs and arrests.’
‘Well, he is pretty accurate,’ said Bennet. ‘But it’s still gonna hurt like hell. Will be just my luck to land on a light fitting.’
‘If there were any, they’d be on now, wouldn’t you imagine?’ suggested Newton. ‘So, what do you think? Wanna try it?’
‘Well, no, frankly,’ said Bennet, ‘But with a noticeable lack of an alternative, I guess we have to. Mind you, given the CCTV; we’ll be filmed doing it.’
‘We get a spook to block the cameras.’
‘You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?’
‘No, I really haven’t,’ said Newton, sincerely, ‘I’m improvising. Tell you what; can you raise the dead for me? Call an extra pair of ghostly hands while I work out what to do next. Anyone will do, just has to be good at floating about with something he can cover the lenses with.’
‘Gotcha, will do. I’ve got a bag of goodies in the horsebox,’ said Bennet, scurrying away. ‘Perfect for the job. I’ll be right back.’
Bennet had only been gone a short while before Newton became aware of a figure floating above him. It was pale at first in the darkness, but forming in time into the figure of a balding man in his forties in beatnik-black T-shirt and jeans.
‘Hello?’ said Newton, not sure of what else he could say.
‘Hi,’ said the phantom, looking down at him. The accent was American. ‘You wanted a guy for slinging paint around, right?’
‘That’s right,’ said Newton. ‘And you are?’
‘Jackson Pollock,’ said the phantom. ‘Kinda made a career outta that jazz.’
‘OK,’ said Newton. ‘Makes sense.’ Even as he said it, it felt inaccurate. ‘The Reverend Bennet has gone to fetch something we can use, can you hang about for a bit?’
‘Sure thing,’ said the phantom, bobbing around with arms folded.
‘Alex,’ said Newton into his phone. ‘You there?”
‘I am,’ said Alex. ‘What’s next?’
‘Well,’ said Newton. ‘We have an action painter on standby; he‘s gonna help with the cameras. Once Bennet is back with something suitable, we can blank out the approach.’
‘How are you getting through the fence?’
‘Don’t ask,’ said Newton, trying not to think about his forthcoming journey.
‘Fair enough.’ said Alex.
‘Once we get over to you we can look into the doors, see if we can find a way round the wiring. I’ll need you to take some shots, assuming that camera of yours even takes pictures.’
‘It does,’ said Alex, defensively. ‘Whether it can send them is another matter. It’s pretty ancient, but that’s all Eric would give me. Takes ‘em an eternity to catch up on the upgrades by all accounts.’
‘Well, we’ll have to make the best of it,’ said Newton as Bennet reappeared, triumphantly holding up a tin of black paint.
‘I knew I had something,’ said Bennet.
‘Perfect,’ said Newton. ‘Now, don’t look up too quickly but there’s an abstract expressionist above your head.’ Bennet peered upwards. “Jackson Pollock – Reverend Bennet, Reverend Bennet – Jackson Pollock.’
‘Hi, Reverend,’ said the painter. ‘How’s it hanging, man?’
‘Er… excellent thank you,’ said Bennet, unsure of the cool vernacular. ‘And, er ... how is yours hanging?’
‘Loose, man,’ said Pollock. ‘Real loose.’
‘Well, I do so hope that’s good,’ said Bennet.
‘Just give him the paint, will you?’ said Newton, impatiently. ‘Let’s get this rolling.’
‘Hey, don’t I get a brush?’ ask the ghost.
