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<h2>29</h2>
<p>It was after six when Jack left Lorna's house down on Clydeshore
Avenue. By this time it was dark and flurries of snow were whirling
in past the trees on the dark street, borne on a bitter north west
wind. Jack pulled his collar up as he walked towards his car,
feeling the ice crackle under his feet. When he got to the station,
both Ralph Slater and Robbie Cattenach wanted a word with him. He
went down to the mortuary, where the young doctor was becoming a
familiar presence.</p>
<p>"I'll have to transfer all of them to Lochend for a proper post
mortem," he said briskly. Normally Robbie was a cocky young fellow
with a mischievous sense of humour, but when he worked, he was all
business.</p>
<p>"But I have done a preliminary investigation. You've a girl of
between fourteen and eighteen, a boy of about seven or eight, and
three infants, two female, one boy. Ages range from approximately
one to two years."</p>
<p>"Cause of death?"</p>
<p>"Far too early to say. There's an incredible amount of damage,
but at first glance I would suggest most of it has taken place
after death, and I mean <em>long</em> afterwards."</p>
<p>The three tiny forms, stripped of their rotted clothes and the
plastic sheets lay side by side, crosswise across one of the tiled
blocks. The girl was spreadeagled on another. From ten feet away,
Jack could see the devastating injuries on their bodies. The girl's
one leg stuck out awkwardly. Her face was badly distorted where the
spike had forced its way through her cheek. She was not as badly
dried out and withered as the other small forms, but it was clear
that in the cold and dry atmosphere of the chimney, her body had
begun to lose moisture. It was lopsided and elongated. The ribs on
the right side of her chest pushed up in corrugated lines, topped
with a stiff flap of shrivelled skin which had once been a breast.
On the other side, the ribs had been caved in, or pulled out, but
Jack couldn't tell which.</p>
<p>"Robbie, I've got a problem here. I only had reports of four
children. We've got one too many here."</p>
<p>"We've got five too many, Jack. One's more than enough."</p>
<p>"You know what I mean. There's a child here who's unaccounted
for. It must be one of the girls."</p>
<p>Robbie walked across to the slab and Jack followed behind his
flapping white coat.</p>
<p>"Girl one. Approximately nine months."</p>
<p>"That'll be Kelly Campbell. That's the one with the blood
type."</p>
<p>"Yes, I remember. The other is approximately two, going by the
number of teeth."</p>
<p>The little form was stretched out, head stiff and off to one
side. A gaping hole just under the collar-bone showed where the
hook had forced through the skin and then, in time, torn upwards
with the weight of the small body's suspension. The child had been
disembowelled. Inside its abdominal cavity, the spine was clearly
delineated.</p>
<p>"This one is in a more advanced state of decomposition than most
of the others, except for the infant boy," Robbie said matter of
factly. "At first glance, I would say this was one of the first."
He lifted up a stick-like arm. Something dangled losely on the
wrist. It was a small silver bangle. Robbie eased it off slowly and
held it up.</p>
<p>"This might help," he said, handing it to Jack who turned it
round to let the light catch the surface. One word was engraved in
an amateurish script.</p>
<p>He turned to the phone and called through to the front counter.
Sergeant Thomson came to the phone.</p>
<p>"Bobby, look out the file on that fire on Murroch Road about
three weeks back. Get me all the names of the victims."</p>
<p>He stayed at the phone, tapping his foot impatiently. Finally
the duty sergeant came back. Jack could hear the pages flick over
while Bobby Thomson muttered to himself.</p>
<p>"Got it. That was the Sunday night. Yes. One Patrick McCann,
also dependents James, Brendan and Kerry. Tragic case sir. Mrs
McCann took an overdose several days later. I can look up the
details if you like."</p>
<p>Jack told him it wouldn't be necessary. He made another call,
this time asking for an outside line and got straight through to
Sorley Fitzpatrick at the fire station.</p>
<p>"Sure Jack," Sorley said agreeably. "I was there that night and
most of the morning after. A lot of damage. Took the whole top
storey and collapsed it down through the lower floors. Not a damned
smoke alarm among them. You'd think people would learn."</p>
<p>"What about the victims?"</p>
<p>"All dead, I'm afraid. The heat was pretty fierce. We got some
remains, about enough to fill a biscuit tin. Your folk identified
the father and one of the kids. The other couldn't be positively
identified, and we couldn't find the baby at all, but that's not
surprising. Soft bones and baby teeth, they don't hold up too well
if the temperature's high enough. It's rare, but I've seen it
happen before. I estimated we got a complete disintegration on the
baby, poor wee soul."</p>
<p>There was nothing more to ask. Jack thanked him and placed the
receiver down. Again Lorna Breck had been right. She'd seen the
fire happen, from a quarter of a mile away, just when it was raging
through the McCann house. She'd touched Agnes McCann and had gone
into a trance, and that strange, nightmare gift of hers had
transported her right into the house. Everybody had believed it had
been a fire, pure and simple, but Lorna Breck knew it had not been,
and now Jack Fallon knew it too.</p>
<p>He held up the tiny silver bangle, a little hoop just big enough
to slip over a baby's wrist and read the engraving again.
<em>Kerry.</em> A child who was supposed to have died in a fire,
had now turned up in the chimney of the old forge, found completely
by accident because a brick had fallen down and nearly brained
Bernie Maguire while he sat on the pan. Jack calculated backwards.
The blaze at the McCann flat had come only two days after Timmy
Doyle had been snatched from his pram, and William Simpson had died
two days after that. He could have sent a team up to knock on all
the doors with a picture of the minister to get conclusive proof
that he had been in the vicinity at the time, but he immediately
decided against that. He did not need it any more. The fact that
Kerry McCann had been found with the other bodies was enough for
him. If there had been any doubt left in his mind, then it was
completely overwhelmed by the facts.</p>
<p>He remembered the old quote, was it from Sherlock Holmes?
<em>Whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the
truth.</em></p>
<p>However improbable, however <em>impossible</em>, was the idea
that a group of people had gathered in the room at Cairn House and
conjured up some kind of monster? It was the stuff of horror films,
and bad horror films at that. In this day of computer games and
video recorders and international conglomerates, where did a notion
like that fit in? Yet it was also the day of ritualised rape and
ethnic cleansing and death squads and innumerable evils that could
make the world an annexe to hell.</p>
<p>Whatever remained, however impossible, had to be the truth.</p>
<p>And the truth was that something hideous scuttled in the dark in
the high places of the ancient town of Levenford, something that
had been brought up from another place in a strange and
incomprehensible rite and given a kind of life. And it had rewarded
those who had called it up with death.</p>
<p>"I don't think we have to look any further," Jack said. "She's
Kerry McCann, aged about two. We thought she'd died in a fire."</p>
<p>"That's the one out in Corrieside?"</p>
<p>Jack nodded. "They thought she'd been burned to a cinder."</p>
<p>"Might have been better if she had," Robbie said. "I'm just
looking at the damage to the bodies. These kids have been torn
apart. Look here." He leaned across the stiff and withered form
nearest him.</p>
<p>"That's a bite there," he said, indicating a crater the width of
a handspread just under the ribs. "But it looks more like a
shark-bite. I'll do some sums and work out a radius, but you can
take it from me that whatever did this has a mouth like a gin-trap,
or it's somebody using some kind of tool. You can see there, where
the flesh has been torn. The skin has been sliced in a bite and
then ripped off. It's taken away the horn of the pelvis too, which
indicates great crushing strength."</p>
<p>He turned to the girl on the other table, sprawled in ungainly
and grotesque stiffness.</p>
<p>"The leg has been bitten off. I thought at first it was a tear,
but if you look here," he quickly turned the body over. It kept its
position, as if it was made from wood. "You've got the same type of
injury. Powerful incision through the skin, then tearing to the
underlying muscle and crushing of bone. Something bit in here then
twisted, like a crocodile.</p>
<p>"And if you look at her shoulder," Robbie shifted his position,
"you'll see an odd thing."</p>
<p>Jack looked. There was a great deal of damage on the girl's
back. It meant nothing to him.</p>
<p>"Bruising and lacerations. Consistent with being dragged along a
rough surface. But there," he said pointing with his pen. "Two
indentations, four inches apart. They've punctured the skin and
muscle and left severe pressure bruises. They're exactly the same
on the other side. That's how she was lifted."</p>
<p>"And that's a bite?"</p>
<p>"No," Robbie said flatly. "Definitely not a bite. It's a grip.
Something grabbed her with extreme violence, enough to break her
collar bone, and as far as I can see, put a hole right through her
shoulder blade. The odd thing is, there are marks of only four
digits. Like an owl?"</p>
<p>"Go on," Jack said, unsure of what Robbie meant.</p>
<p>"An owl sits with two claws and the front and two at the back.
Ideal for perching and also for snatching prey."</p>
<p>"So I should look for an owl?"</p>
<p>"No. You should be looking for something with a handspan about a
foot wide, with four claws on each."</p>
<p>"So what do you recommend?"</p>
<p>"Nothing on this earth," Robbie said with a grim smile.
"Remember what I said when I examined Shona Campbell's body?
Somebody had hit her with the strength of a bear?"</p>
<p>He looked at the stiff, blackened shape lying on the table.</p>
<p>"It certainly wasn't a bear. If you want to get something that's
close, I would suggest the museum of natural history. The only
thing I can imagine is one of the dinosaur raptors, and they've
been dead for sixty million years."</p>
<p>Jack left him making preparations to transfer the bodies to the
lab at Lochend. It was too early to call in the parents of the dead
children, though he knew he'd have to, all except Agnes McCann who
had decided life without her family was not worth living, and Shona
Campbell whose corpse was still in cold storage waiting for release
by the sheriff. The identification of the bodies would be a
nightmare for all concerned. What father would recognise his
daughter, or mother her son, when they had been left hanging up
like meat, bitten and chewed and mutilated?</p>
<p>Ralph Slater had taken fragments of clothing from each of the
bundles and had sent them to the central forensics lab for analysis
along with fibres he'd collected at the scenes of the
abductions.</p>
<p>"I don't know what the hell's going on," he said in
frustration.</p>
<p>You and me both," Jack agreed with him, not telling the entire
truth. Already he had made the mistake with Ronald Cowie, who had
looked at him as if he was mad. Ralph was not ready to share the
knowledge that Jack had.</p>
<p>"So what next?"</p>
<p>"I've got the extra manpower from head office. We go back over
every scene. I want you to work with John McColl and try to get a
central location. Work out a progress map for me, times, dates, the
lot. And put in elevations as well. There must be a pattern."</p>
<p>Even though he said it, Jack was not convinced there would be
any pattern. His only hope, he realised, would be for Lorna Breck
to use her special talent and see it in action again, and he would
hope against hope that she recognised something in time. What he
would do then, he hadn't a clue.</p>
<p>"I don't know," Andy Toye said in answer to the question. Jack
had managed to get him between lectures, but he would have hauled
him out of one had it been necessary.</p>
<p>"There's a lot of speculation of course, but no recent
documentation. The old texts say how to summon a spirit, but then
it's supposed to be confined within a container or by some other
means. You could try holy water, or maybe a stake through the
heart."</p>
<p>"Like a vampire?"</p>
<p>"I'm just taking a shot in the dark. I just don't know."</p>
<p>"What about the instructions you read out? Something about a
talisman or whatever?"</p>
<p>"Wherefore, the magician must hold the ring in his face," Andy
quoted from memory, "of pure iron or fine gold, or talisman blessed
by consecrated hands and that will defend him."</p>
<p>"Would something like that work?"</p>
<p>"I don't know. Nobody does. You could give it a try, but don't
come to me if it doesn't work."</p>
<p>"I won't," Jack said, drily.</p>
<p>"Can I take it you're beginning to take this seriously?" Andy
asked.</p>
<p>"I have to take it seriously. I've got eight murders so far and
six suicides, plus two boys missing presumed dead. I've got a
regular Armageddon on my hands down here, and the only clues I have
are from a delirious seventeen-year-old who says he stuck a drill
in its eye, and from a Highland girl who's got some kind of ESP."
He paused to draw breath. "And I've got a pathologist friend who
tells me I should be looking for a dinosaur with feet like an owl,
the strength of a bear and a bite like a crocodile. Yes, I'm taking
it seriously."</p>
<p>"I think the girl's your best hope," Andy said. "I do think
she's got a gift."</p>
<p>Jack came down from his office and through the swing doors just
as a commotion broke out right at the desk.</p>
<p>Three uniformed officers were scuffling with a man who was bent
over the front desk with an arm up his back. He was desperately
kicking out in all directions. A lucky toe caught young Gordon
Pirie right in the crotch and he went down like a sack of potatoes,
hands jammed between his legs, groaning in pain.</p>
<p>Jack continued walking. One of the other officers slammed the
man down hard on the desk, making his head thump the polished
surface. The fellow yelled, squirmed round and saw Jack.</p>
<p>"You bastard," he bawled at the top of his voice. Two old ladies
who had come in to report a lost purse shrank back, shaking their
heads and tut-tutting in genteel disapproval.</p>
<p>"You swine that you are," the man shouted. "You said you'd let
me stay in the church."</p>
<p>Jack stopped in mid stride and spun round just as one of the
policemen clamped his hand round the man's throat and forced him
back to the desk. Michael O'Day spluttered and struggled,
displaying surprising strength despite his scarecrow build.</p>
<p>"Promised me, you cheating lying shite," he screeched, feet
still flailing. "Let go of me, you swines."</p>
<p>"What's going on here?" Jack barked. Everything went quiet.</p>
<p>"Bastard," Michael O'Day spat at him.</p>
<p>"Hold on, you," Jack ordered. "And stay still." He walked up to
the constable who was holding the skinny man in a death grip.
O'Day's jacket was torn at the pocket and the collar of his shirt,
already crumpled and dirty, was sticking up at an angle. A light
dusting of snow was melting on his shoulders.</p>
<p>"What's happening?" he asked again. "What's this man doing
here?"</p>
<p>"Superintendent Cowie told us to get him down from the church,"
the policeman said. "He nearly took my head off with an iron bar.
Damned maniac. He's in for it now."</p>
<p>"Just hold on. Mr Cowie told you to arrest him?"</p>
<p>"Yes sir. Breach of the peace and theft, but now he's up for
resisting arrest and police assault."</p>
<p>"You promised me, you lying swine," O'Day grated bitterly. He
was struggling against the big policeman's grip and making no
progress. One of his shoes came flying off and rolled under a
chair.</p>
<p>"Just wait here until I get to the bottom of it," Jack said.
"And stay quiet, or I'll throw you in the cell myself."</p>
<p>He staked off back the way he had come and shouldered his way
through the swing door. At the Superintendent's office, he bulled
his way in without knocking.</p>
<p>"What's this all about?"</p>
<p>Cowie looked up.</p>
<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>
<p>"O'Day. You've had him arrested."</p>
<p>"Of course I did. He was causing disorder, and according to you,
he'd already admitted theft," Cowie said smugly. "We can't have
people like that running around, and we can't have policemen making
deals and condoning such actions, especially when they have more
pressing and serious matters to attend to."</p>
<p>"But I told him he could stay there."</p>
<p>"I know you did, and I over-ruled you. Listen, Chief Inspector,
I don't know what you're playing at. You came to me with a fairy
tale about seances and devil-worship. Now I don't know about you,
but that doesn't strike me as going by the book. I think you've
overstepped the mark, and I've cut you down to size."</p>
<p>"O'Day is crucial to my investigation," Jack said as calmly as
he was able.</p>
<p>"Oh really? A mad Irishman who thinks he's being chased by
ghosts? Up in a church bell tower? I can hardly see how that
figures in your investigation. I really don't know what sort of
investigation you are conducting, but so far it's produced nothing
except delusion. Let's see, you've had how many murders? Eight so
far? Nine? Half a dozen suicides. And what have you got? An
Irishman who says he claims sanctuary and has you convinced he's
been conjuring up devils."</p>
<p>Cowie smirked. "Not the most impressive result of an
investigation is it?"</p>
<p>"But I need him," Jack protested, almost speechless with
anger.</p>
<p>"No, mister. You need to get results, and so far you've come up
with big fat zero. You've made yourself look a fool, and by god,
you won't make me look like one. You've gone over my head and I
don't like that."</p>
<p>"I went by the book on that one. We need more men."</p>
<p>"I make the decisions around here, and you'd do well not to
forget it. The Chief Superintendent, as far as I can gather, won't
be back, at least not for some time, and when he's gone, I'm in
command. You'd do well to remember that too. I want this place
running properly and that includes the murder investigation. So far
your attempts have been abysmal."</p>
<p>"I already told you I was following up a lead in connection with
O'Day, and I told you it was important to leave him where he was.
At least he's talking."</p>
<p>"Talking gibberish, yes. And if you believe a word of it, you're
a bigger fool than you're beginning to look. Now he's in our
custody and you can talk to him all you like, but I warn you,
<em>Chief Inspector</em>, I don't expect you to waste any more
time. You've got a madman out there, who as far as we know, has
killed eight people of this Burgh. I must stress to you as strongly
as I can that I am far from impressed with your lack of progress,
your attitude and your conduct of this operation. One more such
lapse, and you will be off this case. I have that authority, and by
God I'll use it."</p>
<p>He smiled up at Jack, favouring him with a triumphant, self
satisfied narrowing of his eyes.</p>
<p>"Now, if that's all, some of us have important work to do."</p>
<p>Jack spun on his heel and stalked out of the office.</p>
<p>The front office was empty, apart from the two old biddies who
were huddled together at the desk, giving a bored looking young
policeman their details. Bobby Thomson cocked his thumb in the
direction of the cells. Jack went downstairs, passing the mortuary
as he went. The wasted and mutilated bodies, covered with white
sheets, were being carried out of the rear door for the short trip
to Lochend and the pathology lab.</p>
<p>Michael O'Day was sitting in a corner, huddled up inside his
badly wrinkled coat, feet drawn up beside him on the low bench-cot
and arms hugged around his knees.</p>
<p>"Bastard," he hissed when the young turnkey opened the door and
let Jack inside.</p>
<p>"For what it's worth, I didn't agree to this. I had already told
them to let you stay where you were."</p>
<p>"You expect me to believe that? Eh? Listen, you, I'm a dead man.
You're looking at a corpse."</p>
<p>"You'll be safe enough in here," Jack said reassuringly, but it
didn't work.</p>
<p>"Safe? You think I'll be safe? Are you mad or what? I told those
cretins to leave me alone. The only place I was safe was in the
church. Now it'll come for me. I can hear it already."</p>
<p>The emaciated man cocked his head to the side, as if
listening.</p>
<p>"It's back in my head. I can hear it. You've killed me, don't
you see it? Jesus help me. It's going to come for me. It'll make me
do whatever it wants."</p>
<p>"No," Jack said, though even he knew he was on unsteady ground.
"We'll give you protection. I can't put you back in the church.
It's an order down from upstairs and I've got to go along with
it."</p>
<p>"Protection, is it? And what protected Janet Robinson? She
worked here, for god sake. Did that protect her? Listen, man, you
can't stop this thing. It's not human."</p>
<p>He stopped and cocked his head again.</p>
<p>"Fuck off, you bastard," he said, staring right at Jack , but
his eyes were focused much further away. "Get out of my fuckin'
head," he screeched.</p>
<p>All of a sudden, the man on the cot began to cry. His eyes were
still open, still wildly staring.</p>
<p>"It's coming for me," he wailed. "Oh, holy mother forgive me. I
didn't know."</p>
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