The Empty Grave (Lockwood & Co. #5)(39)

‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But I was feeling … momentarily vulnerable. It was like she sensed it and homed right in.’ I took a sip of water. ‘You’re obviously much more robust than me.’

‘Well,’ George said, ‘I’m fairly chipper today, that’s true. The good news about La Belle Dame is that I don’t think it likes being up-front aggressive. What it wants is a passive victim, someone with a psychic wound. As long as we all stay strong, it’ll keep its distance. What’s not so hot is that it seems to have the run of the place. There’s no saying where it’ll show up now.’

The full shock of my encounter had dwindled, leaving behind a dull agitation – the kind you get when there’s something on your mind and you can’t quite think what it is. ‘Reckon the whole theatre is the Source?’ I said. ‘That’s possible, isn’t it?’

‘If so, it’s odd that it’s never shown itself before now. I suppose new ghosts are always popping up …’ George took another chocolate bar thoughtfully. ‘Doesn’t have to be anything suspicious about it.’

‘The skull reckoned there was foul play afoot. But then, it would.’

‘Lockwood does too,’ George said. ‘Let’s say something has been brought into the theatre recently, a Source connected to La Belle Dame’s gory end. It’s been hidden somewhere, and that’s allowing the ghost to wreak havoc every night. Where would it be …?’ Chewing swiftly, he came to a decision. ‘The most likely places are those old storerooms below the stage. I’m going down to have a proper rummage. What about you? Want to come with me?’

I almost said yes. There was something about George that was particularly reassuring that evening. But that agitation I couldn’t put my finger on was forcing its way to the forefront of my mind.

‘Think I’ll check on the others,’ I said. ‘Warn them about what happened to me.’

‘Oh, they’ll be all right.’ George set off towards the auditorium. ‘We’re a resilient lot in Lockwood and Co. Even Kipps. Mind you, at the sight of those goggles, any ghost would run a mile from him.’

Almost before he vanished down the passage I was moving too. I was heading for the stairs. I shared George’s confidence – of course I did – and yet my heart was pounding hard as I climbed up the carpeted steps to the lower circle floor.

Before George intervened, the ghost and I had shared a psychic connection. In thrall to her glamour, I’d passively opened my mind to her. Which meant she’d read my thoughts. She knew what I cared about.

She knew who I cared about.

I remembered my final glimpse of her eyes, the way they’d glittered at me in the dark.

I realized what she was going to do.

The lower circle foyer was empty, the electric wall lights burning deep and low.

Last time I saw Lockwood he said he was going to patrol the upper regions – the balconies and boxes. He’d be somewhere nearby … But there were so many interconnecting levels, so many stairs and passages … I’d start in the upper circle, work my way down.

What it wants is a victim … someone with a psychic wound …

As I reached the next flight of stairs, I saw Holly descending.

‘Where’s Lockwood?’ she said.

I stopped. ‘What? That’s what I was going to ask you.’

‘Well, did he say where he was going?’

‘When?’

‘When you were with him just now.’

I stared at her. ‘I haven’t been with him. I haven’t seen him for ages, Hol.’

Something in her face slackened and dropped; she looked at me with wide, dark eyes. ‘But … you were on the lower-circle balcony with him a couple of minutes ago. You were.’ Her voice sounded accusatory, but I read the shock in it, and the sudden fear. ‘I was sure it was you,’ she said. ‘The way you beckoned. He was following you towards the door.’

‘Not me, Holly.’

We stared at each other. Then I pulled the rapier from my belt. Holly did likewise. We were already running, slamming open the door to the balcony.

‘When was this?’ I snapped. ‘How long ago?’

‘Only a minute or two … I was up in the highest boxes. I saw you both below …’

‘Yeah, only it wasn’t me, was it? Why did you think it was, for heaven’s sake? Did it look like me? Face? Clothes?’

‘I – I didn’t see your face. Its face. Or clothes. It was dark-haired, I think … Or maybe that was just the shadow.’

I gave a curse. ‘Geez, Holly.’

‘There was just something about it. The way it stood or gestured. It was so like you.’

Well, the thing had been an actress, of a sort. We were out on the steep steps of the lower balcony now, and the great soft silence of the auditorium closed around us again. Lights glimmered on the balcony railings below, with the trapeze ropes hanging in the shadows and the dim white stage gleaming across the gulf beyond. We spun round, scanning the sloped seats, looking for Lockwood’s reassuring shape. But there was nothing.

‘He could have taken one of the other exits,’ Holly said, pointing. ‘Gone down different stairs. This place is such a maze.’

I didn’t answer. Black fear rose up in me, like oil welling from the ground.