Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(44)

The door chimes sounded and Madame Voile glanced at the clock. “Oh, that’ll be Mrs. Howell. I’ll be back to check on you all shortly. Be a good girl, Irina.” She plucked a deck of cards from the mantle and bustled off back through the curtains. We could hear her voice pronouncing a muffled, “Greetings, Mrs. Howell. Oh! I sense fate has much in store for you!”

The girl sat down at the head of the table. She was very small, and she hunched nervously as she looked at us. She seemed to look past Jackaby as though she were staring at the wallpaper behind him rather than at the detective directly.

Jackaby deposited his satchel on the floor with a thud. He smiled reassuringly. “Good afternoon, Irina,” he said.

She nodded, still not quite meeting his gaze. She looked as though she might recede completely into her head scarf at any moment.

“A friend of mine told me you were very clever,” he said. “One of Mama Tilly’s girls? She told me that you’re a bit like me, actually.”

Irina looked up at him for a moment.

“I also see things that other people can’t see,” said Jackaby. “And I know about things that are sometimes hard to explain.”

Irina nodded.

“We’re not exactly the same,” he continued. “I can see there’s something extra special about you.”

“Can you see her?” the girl asked.

Finstern swiveled in his chair to look around the room, and I felt the hairs on my neck prickle up. Her?

Jackaby smiled. “Yes. I can see her. Don’t worry, she’s very nice.” He reached into his heavy satchel and pulled out a familiar cracked brick. He set it on the table. “She’s my friend, and she came along just to meet you.”

The air just over his shoulder shimmered, although Jenny did not materialize completely. She had been there all along, I realized, right where the girl had been watching. I shook my head, astonished and proud of Jenny’s progress. How long had we been walking around town? This was a far cry from taking a few steps onto the sidewalk.

“Hello, sweetie,” Jenny said softly. “You don’t need to be nervous.” Her voice was gentle and kind. “It’s an honor to meet you. You have a marvelous gift. Not many people can see me unless I really want them to. Do you see many other people who are . . . like me?” Jenny asked.

The girl was quiet.

“It’s just that we were hoping to find someone,” Jenny’s voice continued. “Someone who was dead.”

“I see them.” Irina’s voice was barely a whisper. We all leaned in to listen.

“That’s fantastic,” Jenny said. “Have you seen anyone recently? Can you describe them?”

The girl took a deep breath. “I see all of them.”

Jackaby cleared his throat gently. “All of them?” he asked.

“Everyone that’s dead,” she said. “Your friend is pretty.”

Jackaby nodded. “She is that. You see everyone that’s dead? Do you mean everyone, or just the ghostly ones, like her, who have stayed around?”

“Everyone. Forever. There are lots and lots. Too many. Lots more of them than there are of us. Most of them are on the other side. I can’t see them as well as the ones on this side, like her—but I can still see them. I can always see them.”

Jackaby’s eyes were alive with enthusiasm. “My word. She’s telling the truth.”

The girl nodded, meekly.

“You are very special indeed, Little Miss,” said Jackaby.

The girl said nothing, but climbed down from her chair and over to a rolltop desk in the corner. She retrieved a map and brought it over to the table, where she unfolded it. It was a street map of New Fiddleham. “Want to see the trick?” she asked.

Jackaby nodded, intrigued, and the girl reached across the table toward him. “Hold my hand. Think of a dead person. I can find them. If they’re on this side, I can tell you where.”

Jackaby took the girl’s hand and said aloud, “Jenny Cavanaugh.”

Irina shut her eyes tight. Her little pointer finger hovered over the map and landed squarely on the address where we sat.

“Oh! That’s you, isn’t it?” she said, looking up.

“Very keen,” Jenny’s voice replied.

“Do you want to try another?” Irina asked.

“Mayor Philip Spade,” Jackaby suggested.

Her finger hovered for a moment and then she shook her head. “I don’t see him.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Jackaby confirmed. “The mayor is very much alive. Well done. Let’s try Lawrence Hoole.”

Irina concentrated and shook her head again. “I can see him, but he’s on the other side. He passed on.”

“Let’s try another,” Jackaby said. “He’s undead, but he’s not like Jenny. He calls himself Pavel. I don’t know his last name.”

“Just hold on to him in your mind,” Irina instructed. She let her hand hover over the map again and closed her eyes. Her finger landed in the Inkling District. “He’s there,” she said. “But he’s not. He’s underneath, I think.”

“The sewers.” Jackaby nodded. “Well, I guess it was too much to hope that he had passed on to the other side as well.”