The Empty Grave (Lockwood & Co. #5)(75)

Lockwood said, ‘It’s not that I’m enjoying it, Luce. But I can see the rightness of everything that’s happening now, and that’s different. You remember in the cemetery – I told you how arbitrary everything was? How nothing had any meaning? I don’t feel that any more. Yes, my parents died. I now know why, and we have a chance to avenge them. My sister died too. Her death-glow may help save our lives tonight. More than that, we’re nearing a solution to the Problem. You know we are. When we get there, all this will be over and we won’t have to do it any more. It’ll be all right, Lucy.’ He touched my arm. ‘You’ll see.’

‘I hope that’s the case,’ I said.

‘Well, anyway, I didn’t come out to tell you that.’ Lockwood rummaged in his coat pocket and produced a small square box, very squashed and battered. ‘I came to show you this. I found it in the chest of drawers in Jessica’s room. Don’t worry, it’s not a Source or anything.’

‘If it was,’ I said, ‘we’d have chucked it in that circle.’ I took it off him and opened the creased lid. As I did so, something inside flared in the last light of the sun. It was a dazzling blue, so clear and pure that it made me gasp. The inside of the box was lined with tissue paper. Curled up in it was a golden necklace, and its pendant was a shimmering blue stone, smooth and oval and darkly translucent. It was supremely lovely. I held it up between my fingers and gazed at the heart of the stone. It was like looking into deep, fresh, clean water.

‘What is it, Lockwood?’ I asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.’

‘It’s a sapphire. My father got the gem out East somewhere, and he had this necklace made for my mother. It was her favourite piece of jewellery. That’s what my sister told me once, anyway. I’d forgotten all about it until today.’

‘So your mum didn’t have it on her when she …?’

‘I don’t think she wore it in the ordinary way. It was too special to her. My dad gave it to her soon after they met. It was a symbol of his undying devotion.’

I let the sapphire catch the light once more, then lowered it back into the box. I handed it back to him.

‘It couldn’t be anything else,’ I said.

‘No, exactly. Anyway, Luce …’ Lockwood cleared his throat. ‘I was going to ask if you—’

A shrill whistle came from the top of the kitchen steps. We looked up to see Kipps peering out at us. ‘Hope I’m not disturbing you,’ he said. ‘Just thought you’d like to know that the Winkmans have arrived.’





19




Quill was right. There was activity near Arif’s corner store. Just before it closed, two men had come out of the shop. They migrated to opposite sides of Portland Row and sat on walls there in the deepening dusk. Thickset and silent, they smoked occasional cigarettes; otherwise they were as one with the bricks and the concrete. Occasionally they glanced along the road towards number 35. They sat there while the ghost-lamps came on and the rest of our neighbours retired behind their defences. Curtains were drawn, the street grew empty. But the red glow of the watchers’ cigarettes remained.

They were there to make sure that no one was leaving the building. Well, we certainly weren’t planning to leave that way.

Lockwood held his final briefing in the living room. As in the rest of the house, the walls were bare and marked by stains where his parents’ artefacts had hung for so long. One lantern was on, but the room was oddly dark. The boards across the windows blocked out the streetlights. Lockwood stood there with his back to us. As we filed in, he turned and smiled. It was his old grin.

‘You all know what’s going to happen tonight,’ he said. ‘At some point between now and dawn, some unpleasant people are going to try to get inside this building. Well, we’re not going to allow that. This is thirty-five Portland Row. We’ve always been safe here.’

George stiffly raised a hand. ‘Except when that Fairfax assassin broke in one time,’ he said.

‘Oh, yes. True.’

‘And that time when Annie Ward’s ghost was unleashed here,’ I added.

‘And the various times the skull’s caused us grief,’ Holly put in.

George nodded. ‘Let’s face it, it’s always been a deathtrap, hasn’t it?’

Lockwood clenched his teeth. ‘Yeah, but it’s my deathtrap, goddammit. They’re not getting in. So – there are five of us to defend the place. As we know, there are only two really vulnerable points: the rear basement and the kitchen. George is injured, so he’ll remain upstairs with the stash of weapons on the landing. That’s where the rest of us will retreat to if things go wrong. Jessica’s room is our last resort. Luce and Holly, I want you both stationed in the kitchen. Quill and I will be in the basement. Listen out. If any of us are in trouble, we whistle, and the others help if they can.’ He smiled at us. ‘Let’s get to our stations, then. Good luck, everyone.’

There was one last chore to carry out before taking up my position. The skull in the jar had made so many loud attempts to speak to me over the course of the afternoon that I’d closed the lever just to get some peace. I didn’t know whether it wanted to pass on insults or over-perceptive observations, but I had time for neither. While Holly went into the kitchen, I took the jar into the hall and turned the lever.