Simon Green - Ghost of a Smile

JC moved forward, deliberately putting himself between Kim and the dead man. He took off his sunglasses with a sharp flourish, and fixed Patterson with his glowing eyes. And for the first time, Patterson stopped smiling.

“Abomination,” he said tonelessly. “Unnatural thing. You don’t even know what you are, do you?”

“Leave the girl alone,” said JC.

“Or what?” said Patterson. “What will you do? What can you do? The terrible thing that reached down and touched you, and changed you, and gave you those eyes… wasn’t what you think it was. It can’t help you against me. You’re on your own here.” He was smiling again now. “You think you’re so important-the great white-suited ghost hunter-but what have you ever really achieved? The world still turns as it always has, and the night is still full of monsters. Like me.”

“Then why is it so important to you, to kill us?” said JC.

“You know too much,” said Patterson. “Far more than you were ever meant to.”

“Okay,” said Happy, actually brightening up a little. “Now that’s interesting. Which of the many things I know, or think I know, are important enough to kill me over?”

“Not now, Happy,” said JC.

“Yes, now! This is proof! If I’m worth killing, then at least some of the things I’ve always believed have to be true!”

“He sort of has a point,” JC said to Latimer, putting his sunglasses back on. “If we do know really important things… we should get a raise.”

“What do you want?” said Latimer. “Danger money?”

“Oh, please,” said Happy.

Patterson looked back and forth as they talked. He seemed to be having trouble accepting that he wasn’t holding their full attention.

“Keep him busy,” Melody said suddenly.

“What?” said JC.

“Patterson! Keep the dead man occupied! I’ve got an idea.”

She turned and ran, sprinting down the street. Everyone else stood there and watched her go. Happy looked longingly after her.

“Running away looks like a really good idea to me. Wish I’d thought of it first.”

“Stand fast!” JC said immediately. “She’s not running out on us. She’ll be back.”

“You think she has a plan?” said Happy.

“Hopefully.”

“A cunning plan?”

“Let’s not set our hopes too high.”

Happy sighed heavily. “What if we all ran in different directions at once?”

“We can’t abandon the Boss,” said JC. “The dead man would kill her in a moment if we weren’t here to protect her.”

“Well, yes,” said Happy. “But you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I am still here!” said Latimer. “I can still hear you! There will be discussions about this later.”

Happy looked down his nose at her. “I never liked you. I’m only still here because of the principle of the thing, so shut your cake-hole and let us concentrate.”

Latimer looked at JC. “When did he grow a pair?”

“My little boy is all grown-up,” said JC. “I couldn’t be more proud. Now do as the terrified but still somehow holding his ground telepath says, and keep the dead man occupied while Happy and I try to think of something. You might try asking him why he hasn’t killed us yet, a question that has been much on my mind.”

“Don’t give the dead thing ideas,” growled Happy. “He’s probably got a very good reason, and I don’t want him doubting it.”

Latimer sniffed loudly. “I do not negotiate with monsters. And I am not helpless! I didn’t get to where I am in the Carnacki Institute without learning a few useful and really unpleasant tricks along the way… Like this one.” She glared at Patterson. “You! Dead thing! Pay attention! Whatever you are, within my old friend’s body. You think you’re so hard, cope with this!”

She slammed her wrinkled hands together while speaking aloud a Word of Power, and the ground shuddered under everyone’s feet. A harsh grinding noise filled the night air, and the ground tore itself apart. A huge split opened up, zigzagging its crooked way across the street between Patterson and the others, then the split widened abruptly into a crack, enlarging into a great crevice that opened up beneath the dead man’s feet. He fell into the wide gap without a sound, and it swallowed him up. Latimer brought her hands together again, and the two sides of the crevice slammed together. The loud, grinding noises stopped immediately, and the ground settled. The night air was still. All that remained of the crevice was a long, jagged crack in the street. JC looked at Latimer with new respect.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Not many do,” said Latimer. “That’s the point.”

“And the dead man is toast!” said Happy, doing an ecstatic little jig on the spot. “He is flatter than toast! He is dead and very definitely departed.” He stopped dancing and nodded brusquely to Latimer. “I may be a little more respectful at future meetings. It’s possible.”

Then the ground shuddered under their feet again. They all looked down. The ground shook again, more insistently, then groaned loudly as the jagged split jerked itself apart, opening up foot by foot, until it was a crevice again. And from that crevice, up out of the dark, Patterson rose. He soared into the air, like a dark bird of ill omen, hanging in the air above them, held there in defiance of all natural laws by sheer force of will. The two sides of the crevice slammed together again, and Patterson sank slowly down to stand exactly where he had before. Unhurt, untouched, unruffled. He smiled condescendingly at Latimer.

“Is that really the best you’ve got?”

“There is no way you did that on your own!” snapped Latimer. “You had help. Powerful help. Outside help. Who are your masters? ”

Patterson nodded slowly. He looked heavier now, more solid. More real, as though he was several things in one place. The ground cracked and broke beneath his feet, as though he weighed more heavily on the world than a real thing should.

“Ah, Catherine,” he said. “I have always enjoyed our little chats. You’re quite right. I’m not alone. You have no idea who and what you’re facing.”

“Happy,” JC said quietly, “I need you to look inside that thing’s head. No excuses. Get me some idea of what’s going on in there.”

Happy sighed, in his best put-upon way, and reached out to the dead man with his most powerful and subtle probe, only to recoil immediately, shaking violently.

“He let me See!” he said, breathlessly. “Just for a moment, just for a glimpse… Whatever’s riding Patterson was human once, but it’s a whole different thing now. Something horribly powerful. I couldn’t even look at it straight on! Man is not meant to look into the face of the Medusa…”

“It’s not Patterson,” said Latimer. “It doesn’t talk like him, or move like him. My dear friend is gone.”

“Oh, he’s still in here somewhere,” said the dead man. “So I can enjoy his suffering. He was never your friend…”

“Excuse me!” Latimer said sharply, “But I think I knew him better, and longer, than you ever did! He may have… drifted away, wandered off the proper path, but I have no doubt he would have found his way back, eventually.”

JC could have said something there, about Patterson, but he didn’t.

Latimer fitted one of her dark Turkish cigarettes into her long ivory holder, lit it with her monogrammed gold Zippo lighter, and blew a mouthful of smoke at Patterson. She looked him over disparagingly.

“You said… you enjoyed our little chats. So I do know who you really are. Do you really think you can hide from me?”

“Ah, Catherine,” said the dead man. “I’m afraid you’ve left it for too late. You never did appreciate me.”