Maureen Johnson - The Madness Underneath

“Boom boom,” I said to Callum, hoping that would bring some light to the room, but he didn’t react. Boo flexed her long purple nails.

“So this will look good to Thorpe,” Callum said. “At least we have that. They’ll reward us with great riches. Or, maybe, a new sofa from IKEA.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Stephen said.

“Why not?” Boo asked.

“Well, this might cause him more problems. The case against Sam Worth is fairly damning, between the forensics and the confession. It’s going to be difficult for them to make this one go away, especially with a grieving family. They can’t say that there was a ghost going around beating people’s brains in with a hammer, so Sam Worth has to be set free. Someone has to be seen to pay, just like in the Ripper case.”

“So Sam goes down for it?” Boo said. “It’s not right.”

“We can only do our job. We leave it to other agencies to do the rest.”

“But that’s not right,” Boo said. “He didn’t do it.”

“But he confessed, ” Stephen said. “And the forensics back up his confession. Even he would rather think he did it than admit to himself that some terrible unseen thing was in the room.”

“So he just stays in prison?” Boo said.

“Again, that’s beyond our scope. But there’s something else that isn’t. On the night of the attack, the floor of the bathroom cracked open. Rory also found a crack—”

“I know about this,” Callum said.

“And he told me,” Boo added. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we all got together to tell each other things?”

“Right,” Stephen said, sidestepping this. “Well, the crack is also present in the basement wall of the Royal Gunpowder. It’s now a safe working assumption that the crack is in some way connected to both the woman Rory saw in the bathroom and the murder in the pub. So we should find out exactly how far this crack extends. To that end…all around London, there are GPS stations, used to track location. Mobile phone towers are also GPS stations. Aside from being location trackers, they can monitor the movement of the earth to a very high and precise degree. They’re used to monitor earthquake damage now. We could potentially use that information to determine the size and location of the crack. Once we know that, we can deal with the question of precisely what it’s done.”

“Can we access that information?” Callum asked.

“We can ask Thorpe about it,” Stephen replied. “I can get that process started. In the meantime, you and Boo should cover the area, working in hundred-yard circles. Canvas everything. Check streets, go into shops, access as many basement levels as you can. I’ll see if we can’t get you both some British Gas uniforms right away.”

“I can also check with the Tube engineers to see if there are any broken substructures in the Liverpool Street area,” Callum said.

“Good.”

“I can get into Wexford,” Boo added. “Come for a visit, have a look around.”

“What about me?” I asked.

All three of them looked over. While I realized I was not a member of the squad, I certainly felt like I was entitled to be a part of whatever happened next. I think Callum was about to say something along those lines, because he nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Stephen reached over and smoothly picked up the car keys.

“You should probably get back,” he said. “You’ve been gone most of the day.”

Boo and Callum exchanged a look. Stephen was already moving toward the door. I took the hint and pulled myself off of the broken-down sofa.

“What did Callum say to you?” Stephen said when we were back in the car. “And don’t say nothing .”

“He just…he kind of feels you try to do it all yourself.”

“I don’t.” Stephen shifted his jaw. “I’m in charge. There’s a difference. We work in a secret department. I can’t just tell everyone everything.”

“Not everyone. Callum and Boo. There’s only three of you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does,” I said. “If you don’t talk to them, who else are you going to talk to? They’re the only other people who know what’s going on.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. “You don’t understand my job.”

Well, that got a reaction. Interesting. I didn’t mind the snapping, and I gave him time to work out his feelings on the car. He ground through a few gears and maneuvered around a bus a little faster than normal, gunning the engine a bit. I don’t know how to drive a manual car, so all the gear changes fascinated me. He didn’t hold the gearshift, either—he kept his fingers flat and straight and pushed on it with his palm. It was a relaxed stance, not a tense death grip.

“You like driving,” I said.

“It’s good for thinking,” he said in a low voice.

“I like to sing and drive,” I said. “I only sing in the car, but I tell you, I am good. But only when I drive. I suck otherwise. Do you ever sing in the car?”

“Generally not. But I am driving a police car.”

“I think people would like a singing policeman. Makes life seem more like a musical. Everyone wants to live in a musical. Like Foot-tastic .”

“You can talk for a long time about nothing.”

“I certainly can, you charming man!”

His arms and shoulders sagged a bit, and the car slowed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t like keeping Callum and Boo in the dark about some things, but I barely know how to do my own job. It can be terrifying to tell them to do something when I don’t even have the facts. This job is dangerous. Boo’s been hurt. You’ve been hurt. I’ve been hurt. Callum was hurt before he was on the job. And if one of us was killed, would they even care? Or would they just tidy it away, like they did with the old squad? Bury our files and make it all disappear?”

“So why do it?” I asked.

Stephen exhaled slowly.

“Better than banking, I suppose.”

“Did you just make a joke?”

“I am capable of that.”

“You are?”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said.

He pulled up by Spitalfields.

“I’ll leave you by here,” he said. “It’s best not to keep to the same places all the time. You can get back from here all right?”

“I think I can walk two streets over.”

“Of course. And, just so you know…the timing alone suggests that the situation is safe. The crack opened over three weeks ago. You found one person within a day, and another turned up within forty-eight hours. If more had come up, I’d like to think we would have seen some evidence by now. This could be the end of the matter. But we’ll do all we can and I’ll keep you informed. I just don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m not worried,” I said, opening my door and getting out.

He leaned over to have a better look at me.

“You’re not,” he said, “are you?”

And I wasn’t. I realized on some level that I definitely should be worried if there was, in fact, a raging tear of angry ghosts under my building. Perhaps being a terminus did something to the chemicals in my brain. Or maybe I was just nuts, burned out from all that had happened to me.

“Promise me,” he said, “if you see something, anything, you’ll phone us first. Don’t try to deal with it alone.”

“Like I’d do that,” I said, smiling.

“I think you might. I mean it. Don’t try to do it alone.”

“That’s been the message of today’s session,” I replied. “I’m glad you got it. I think we’ve accomplished a lot.”

“Go.”

But he smiled. He didn’t want me to see, but I totally saw.

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