Simon Green - The Dark Side of the Road

That suggested a danger from my world, not from Walter and his business. From the hidden world, and the dark side of the road. I had to wonder: how bad was this danger that a man as experienced in dealing with bad things as the Colonel could fall to it so easily? A man who’d shut down many a monstrous trouble in his time? I’d worked with him in the field on several occasions, seen him in action. The Colonel always led the way, because he was the best of us.

I remembered the Murder Generals; the Dark Lady from Under the Hill; the Queen in Waiting and the Cathedral in Flames; and the High Orbit Ghosts. They all threatened the world, in their time, until the Colonel and I put them down.

But I’d seen nothing at Belcourt Manor to suggest the touch of Outside Forces. Could the Colonel’s death really be nothing more than a disgruntled ex-employee? Sawing off the Colonel’s head spoke to human cruelty, to making a vicious point … I couldn’t rule that out. But I couldn’t believe the Colonel would call me in for anything so straightforward. No; this had to be linked to the Colonel’s past. All the enemies he made, all across the world, doing the Organization’s business.

Except I would have sworn an oath they were all dead. The Colonel never did believe in leaving loose ends.

I slipped the letter carefully back in its envelope and tucked it securely away in an inside pocket. And then I pushed open the door and went in to dinner.

They were all sitting around one end of a really long table, in the grand old dining hall of Belcourt Manor. The room was huge, vast, overpowering. Big enough to play cricket in, with a high arched ceiling you couldn’t have reached with a stepladder. A great fire burned fiercely, in a massive stone fireplace. Two hanging chandeliers shed fierce electric light from one end of the dining hall to the other. The shutters covering the two huge windows at the far end were so heavy, I couldn’t hear even a murmur from the storm outside. The room was in a state of denial, like the people inside it.

Everyone at the table made a point of not looking up as I entered. They all seemed very preoccupied, though the plates set out in front of them were all conspicuously empty. I slammed the door, on general principles, and strolled forward.

Walter sat at the head of the table, with Melanie seated at his right hand and Diana at his left. The Lord of the Manor, with his Ladies. Sylvia sat next to Diana, and Khan sat next to Melanie. Roger next to Khan, and opposite him, Penny next to Sylvia. I pulled out a chair and sat down next to Penny. She shot me a quick, grateful smile, before going back to not listening to what Roger was saying to her.

I settled myself comfortably, removed the gleaming white napkin from its engraved silver ring, flipped the cloth out and dropped it into my lap. I don’t need napkins; I never drop anything. But it’s all part of fitting in.

The china set out before me was really quite impressive, and I’m not easily impressed. Old pieces, much used, probably going back generations. The layers of cutlery spreading out from my plate didn’t intimidate me in the least. I have travelled through every country in the world, doing good, or something very like it, and learned all their customs. All you had to do here was start at the outside and work your way in, course by course. At least no one at Belcourt Manor was going to object if I ate with my left hand.

The long dining table had obviously been intended to seat a much larger gathering, from the days when the Belcourts were a much larger family. Or perhaps they were just bigger people in those days. Walter’s Christmas gathering didn’t even fill up half the table. The tablecloth was gleaming white samite, with burning candelabra set at regular intervals. The candle-flames burned straight up, not bothered by even a breath of a draught. It was all very calm and dignified, and not a Christmas cracker was in sight. I’ve never cared for such things. I won’t read out stupid jokes, I won’t play with stupid toys, and I absolutely refuse to wear stupid paper hats. It’s not about dignity; it’s about self-respect.

Still no promise of any food, so I looked around the room.

The walls boasted yet more family portraits, more weapons on display, and the odd souvenir or relic from the Belcourt family’s military past. Flags and banners, handwritten proclamations preserved under glass, silver snuffboxes and bejewelled bits and bobs. The loot of history. I made a mental note to steal something small and valuable before I left the house, just on general principles. And without quite seeming to, I looked at everyone seated round the table, and watched their faces as I listened in on their conversations.

Penny sat back in her chair and stared at nothing, toying vaguely with her napkin ring, making vague noises of interest in response to Roger’s desperate attempts to make conversation.

‘Everything’s going to be all right, Penny,’ the young man said earnestly. ‘You’re not to worry. I’ll look after you. I know it must have been a hell of a shock … finding James like that.’ He paused, to look dubiously at me. I made sure I just happened to be looking somewhere else.

Roger sniffed loudly, possibly without even realizing he was doing it, and turned back to Penny. ‘I would never let anything happen to you, Penny. You do know that, don’t you?’

Penny smiled at Roger, giving him her full attention for the first time. ‘Yes; I know that, Roger. I never doubted it. Every now and again I remember what it was I saw in you. A crisis always brings out the best in you. Such a shame it takes so much to make you interesting. Tell me something, Roger …’

‘Of course, darling. Ask me anything.’

‘What’s going on, between you and Alexander? Come on; he’s been hanging around you all weekend, badgering you like a love-struck stalker. What does he want from you?’

Surprisingly, Roger grinned easily. ‘What does he always want? Money, of course. He thinks he can get it out of me. He thinks he can pressure me. He thinks he can get me something I want.’

‘What?’ said Penny.

‘You, of course! But alas, I know better. So, dear old Alex … can sit on it and rotate.’

I left the two young people to smile at each other and switched my attention to Alexander Khan, talking earnestly with Melanie. They were smiling into each other’s eyes and ignoring everyone else.

‘I’m sure you’re right, my dear,’ said Khan. ‘Whatever danger there might have been is quite definitely past. The killer is gone, and we are all perfectly safe. It’s always possible James brought the danger with him, as a result of whatever he was up to. But now the murderer’s got what he wanted, he’s undoubtedly long gone.’

‘Did you know James at all?’ said Melanie. ‘Only sometimes, the way you say his name, I get the distinct impression-’

‘I knew of him,’ Khan said quickly. ‘He had a reputation … in a field I was once involved in. But I never met the man.’

‘Or Ishmael?’ said Melanie.

‘No; that was his father. Daniel. Just one of those strange coincidences, I suppose, that the son of my old colleague should work for Walter’s son. But then, life is full of strange connections. Like us.’

‘Hush,’ said Melanie, still smiling. ‘Not in front of Walter.’

‘He’s not listening.’

‘You can never tell with Walter.’

‘But we will meet, later?’

‘Oh, of course. Later,’ said Melanie. And they went back to smiling into each other’s eyes.

I let my concentration move on, to Diana and Sylvia. Not surprisingly, Sylvia was doing most of the talking. Chattering cheerfully about previous Christmas parties she’d attended, at other great houses. Shamelessly name-dropping minor celebrities, past lovers and important business connections. Diana just nodded, here and there and not always in time, lost in her own memories.