Sixty-One Nails Part 35

Blackbird shrugged. "Ms Raddison, the police aren't going to be able to help you. If you want to find your Remembrancer then you're going to have to trust us. "

"I don't have to trust anyone," she said firmly.

"Very well," said Blackbird. "Come on Niall, we have things to do."

"But what about the worm?" I said.

"I can't make her help us. Come on."

She walked out of the office. I gave Claire a helpless look and followed. I caught up with her in the corridor. "Where are we going? We need to know what's wrong with the ceremony."

"Don't worry," she said quietly. "She'll call us back by the time we reach the stairs."

We reached the stairs and looked back. There was no sign of Claire.

"Maybe we should go back?"

"Maybe that isn't your path," Blackbird said, and took the stairs down.

I followed her down into the vaulted hall below and we headed for the exit.

"Do you have a plan? Is there another way to find out?"

"We need to look for the next part of your vision. With that we can move forward."

"I don't even know which is the next part. It could be any of them."

"We're not getting anywhere with her. There must be another way." We went through the exit gate, back out through the high stone doorway into the suns.h.i.+ne.

"So where now?"

As we exited into the road, one of the security guards came through the entrance and called after us. "Excuse me? Sorry, were you with Miss Raddison a moment ago?" We stopped. "We were," said Blackbird.

"She called down. She says you left something in her office."

"Did she? Then I guess we'd better come back for it." Blackbird smiled at me. "Told you."

"You weren't sure," I said to her, but she just smiled. We repeated the ritual with the scanners and then made our way back up to Claire's office. She was waiting for us.

"Perhaps," she said, "we could try again?"

"That depends on whether you can help us," Blackbird said, "so that we can help you."

"If there's something you know, something that could help us find Jerry, I would like to know it."

"Let's go back to the phone calls," said Blackbird. "They have a hollow quality, as if the speaker is in a large room, or on speaker-phone, don't they?" Claire's expression didn't change.

"The speaker's voice is strange and slurred, drunk even, and there's a delay, like on international long distance."

She still didn't say anything.

"There's something about them that doesn't sound like a phone call. The etiquette is all wrong. How am I doing?"

"Go on," she allowed.

"These aren't the normal enquiries - 'Would His Lords.h.i.+p be available for such and such a date or this or that event?' - these are odd calls, as if the caller isn't used to telephones."

Claire cleared her throat. "The first time it happened, it completely caught me out. It was Monday, I think, and we were dreadfully busy. I picked up the phone and said h.e.l.lo. It was an internal number, you see?" She glanced at the phone on her desk.

"The caller asked, 'What does the Remembrancer remember?' There was no greeting, just the question. I think I said 'I beg your pardon?' and the caller said, 'What does he want?' They slurred their esses and it was difficult to understand them. I said 'What does who want?' wondering whether they were drunk. The caller said, 'The Remembrancer, what does he want?' I asked them who was calling and they put the phone down. The thing was, right through the call, there was an engaged tone in the background as if the lines were crossed. I put it down to a fault on the line. "

"But it happened again," Blackbird prompted.

"This time it was another voice, more confident and not slurred, but still odd. It was another internal call so I just picked up the phone and said 'Claire speaking' and the caller laughed, like it was funny."

I looked at Blackbird, but she was focused on Claire. "The voice said 'The ceremony is cancelled this year, Claire.' I knew it was the same kind of thing because the engaged tone was in the background again, so I said 'Who is this?' The laughter started again and then something was wrong with the power because the lights went dim as if the voltage had dropped. I slammed the phone down."

"And the lights came back on?" Blackbird suggested. She nodded.

"That's just as well. What happened then?"

"I asked Marcie to trace the call. It was obviously somebody playing pranks, but I didn't think it was funny. All calls for the courts are logged and tracked, for departmental billing and for security. "

"What did it show?"

"It came back with 'extension unregistered'. We had the phone people check into it, but they said it was some sort of external line fault, so we were no wiser. "

"Have they called back again?"

"No, but the second call was only yesterday. How did you know what happened?"

"I saw it before," said Blackbird, "a long time ago." Her words made me think of a little girl, curled in a corner, watching a dark shape speak into a mirror. "Would His Lords.h.i.+p have come back here last night? Could he have picked up a call?" I asked.

"He may have done. The calls go through to his office if I'm not here."

"Have you been in his office today?" asked Blackbird.

"Yes, several times."

"Can I take a look?"

"You can look, but he's not in there."

Blackbird went to the double doors and pushed one open, standing in the doorway to observe the room. Satisfied that it was indeed empty, she stepped through. I stood in the doorway behind her. She walked around the large desk with its dark, polished surface and green leather inlay, the walls stacked with row upon row of legal texts. She slowly circled the office, drawing her forefinger across the polished surfaces. "Not here," she said.

"I told you he wasn't there," said Claire, from over my shoulder.

That wasn't what she meant. She meant he hadn't died there.

I stepped back into the ante-office and she came after me and pulled the door closed behind her.

"If you get another call like that, put the telephone down straight away. Don't speak to them, don't listen to them. Just put the phone down, OK?"

She nodded. "Do you have any idea what happened to him?"

"Perhaps. When did you speak to him last?"

"Yesterday. He had an evening engagement and I left him to it. He never went home. His wife is frantic with worry and calling here every ten minutes. I've already called all the hospitals and alerted the police, but there's no sign of him. I was sort of hoping your historical mystery might have something to do with it. He's a keen historian. It's possible he went off on some wild goose chase. "