Simon Green - For Heaven's Eyes Only

We’d arrived in Ashtree’s outer office: fairly old, maybe even Victorian originally, with lots of heavy wood panelling on the walls, and really quite ugly furniture. The only modern touch was the highly efficient computer on the secretary’s desk. There was no one around. It was all very peaceful and quiet, and therefore worrying.

“I’ve been here before,” I said to Molly. “I’m sure Sir Terrence will remember me. Still . . . this is odd.”

“Odd?” Molly said immediately. “How odd?”

“This is the outer office, where the secretary makes you wait till Terry the Toad is ready to see you,” I said. “And like all bosses’ secretaries, she’s there to guard his privacy and her territory like an attack dog. So . . . where is she?”

We both looked at the empty desk. The computer was turned off; everything was neat and tidy, not even a half-finished cup of coffee.

“Let’s go see if Terry the Toad is in,” said Molly. “Since we’ve come all this way.”

“Yes,” I said. “Let’s do that. I’m sure we’ve got lots to talk about.”

The heavy door that led into Ashtree’s very private office wasn’t locked. I tried the handle carefully, mindful of booby traps, but it turned easily in my hand. I slammed the door all the way open with my shoulder, and Molly and I strode in. Ashtree was sitting quietly behind his desk, a tired old man in a crumpled suit, his face drawn, haggard. He didn’t so much as flinch when Molly and I made our entrance. He nodded to both of us slowly.

“I’ve been waiting for someone,” he said. “I knew somebody would come eventually. But I can’t say I recognise either of you.”

“Edwin Drood,” I said. “And Molly Metcalf.”

“Ah. Yes. Isabella’s sister. Please come in; make yourselves comfortable. I have so many things to say to you.”

I had a good look round his office, but there didn’t seem to be any hidden assassins crouching in the corners, so I pulled out a chair for Molly and then dropped easily into one beside her. Ashtree didn’t move at all, looking us over with tired curiosity.

“Edwin . . . Yes. I do remember you. . . . I was actually pleased to see you, you know. I never did get on with Matthew.”

“Not many did,” I said. “Do you know why we’re here?”

Of course. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long. I left a clear enough trail. I’m glad you’re here, so I can get this over with. I never wanted any of this, you know. It was . . . I’d struggled so long, trying to be the success in business I was supposed to be, even though I never had any taste for it. . . . But it was what my family wanted, so I went along. . . . You’d know all about that, Edwin. But I never got anywhere that mattered, or achieved anything of note, no matter how hard I tried. So when this new satanic conspiracy came looking for me, head-hunted me . . . I jumped at the chance. You do know about the . . . Of course you do. I didn’t think they were real , you see. . . . I mean, who believes in satanic conspiracies in this day and age? I thought it was like the old Hellfire Club, a chance to dress up and play games. . . .

Suddenly everything I touched was golden. I was the big man in the city my family had always wanted me to be. I had everything I’d ever wanted. I was happy, you see. Such a long time since I’d been happy . . . So when they told me to pass some information on to Charlatan Joe, I thought . . . Why not? Who’s Isabella Metcalf to me? I had to do it in a certain way, using some rather unpleasant magics, but . . . it was all playing the game; you see? I should have known better. Nothing’s ever simple or straightforward in the conspiracy. It’s all plans within plans, traps within traps. . . .

I was there when the conspiracy kidnapped Isabella. Snatched her right out of her own teleport spell. They have very powerful people working for them. She put up one hell of a fight. I was impressed. But the conspiracy people had all kinds of weapons and dirty tricks at their command, and they . . . wore her down. And when she was helpless, stripped of all her magics, they . . . did things to her. They hurt her horribly, broke her spirit, defiled and abused her . . . and laughed while they did it. They let me watch. It was their idea of a reward. They thought I’d enjoy it.

It sickened me.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I thought I was a hard man, up for anything . . . but to my surprise, it seems there was a good man inside all along, struggling to get out. There was a line I wouldn’t cross. I couldn’t help Isabella, but I couldn’t stand by and watch. They saw the weakness in me; they knew I wasn’t one of them anymore. So I came here to wait for whoever found me first. I could have run, could have hidden, but . . . I think I need to be punished for what I’ve done.”

“Is she alive?” Molly said harshly. “My sister? Is Isabella still alive?”

“As far as I know,” said Ashtree. “They took her away with them. Dragged her off . . . So much blood. I’d never seen so much blood before. They said they had a use for her, you see. I didn’t know any of that was going to happen! You must believe me; I didn’t know. . . . I never understood what I was getting into. Or maybe . . . I didn’t want to understand, because I was having such a good time. . . . I didn’t believe in Devil worshippers. Didn’t believe in the Devil. But it turns out he believed in me. . . . I’m not a bad person, Eddie, Molly. . . . Not really. I’ve done bad things, I know, things I’m not proud of, but it was just to get on. . . . Nobody ever really got hurt.”

“If you want to atone,” I said, “help us find Isabella. And the mind-influencing machine. And the leaders of the conspiracy.”

“You don’t understand,” said Ashtree. “I never dealt with people on that level, never worked with anyone that high up. I was never that important to the conspiracy.”

“Did you know about the Great Sacrifice?” I said.

“No!” said Ashtree. “I never dreamed . . . I had no idea. I was just in charge of raising money! Moving numbers around . . .”

“You must know something,” I said. “Something that can help us. That’s why you stayed, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Ashtree. “That’s why I’m glad you found me first. I was at Lightbringer House, you see, to make a report, and I happened to pass by a door that was a little ajar. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked. And there he was, the great leader of the satanic conspiracy, holding a private meeting. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it was him ! I knew him; I’d had dealings with him in the past. I couldn’t believe such a small man could be the leader of the conspiracy. But then, I suppose it’s always the small men with big ambitions. . . .”

“Who?” I said. “Tell us his name!”

“I can’t,” said Ashtree. “I can’t say his name to anyone outside the conspiracy. No one can. They found me listening, you see, and they put a geas on me, a binding burned right into my soul. . . . It hurts even to think the name. . . . But I can tell you where to find Isabella Metcalf. I wasn’t supposed to know that either; but people will talk in front of me, you see. Because I’m not important. They’ve taken her to the conspiracy’s most secret place, their hidden fortress, where the leader sits and gloats among his treasures and his prisoners and makes all the decisions that matter. I can’t tell you how to get there. But that’s where you have to go.”

“Where?” said Molly. “Where do we have to go? Where is my sister?”

“They’re holding her in the Timeless Moment,” said Sir Terrence Ashtree, never again to be Terry the Toad.

And then he screamed horribly, convulsing in his chair as his flesh began to rot and corrupt. Roger said, They’re always listening. . . . I pushed the heavy desk out of the way to get to Ashtree, but it was already too late. The conspiracy was taking its revenge on him for having dared betray them. Ashtree screamed and screamed again, whipping back and forth in his seat as his flesh melted and ran away in thick streams of putrescent liquids. He should have died from the shock of it, but the same dark magic that was killing him kept him alive to suffer, to know horror . . . to be punished. His head snapped back and forth in agony, and thick gobbets of suppurating flesh flew off to spatter and stain the floor. I heard his bones snap and break and splinter inside him, torn apart by savage forces. There was nothing I could do to save him. I looked at Molly, but she shook her head helplessly. I looked at Ashtree, with his melting face and empty eye sockets. The timbre of his screams was changing as his vocal cords rotted and ran away down his throat.