The Gemini Effect, page 18
Without thinking twice, Deborah stepped over the fallen youths and made her way to the corner, following Clark’s trail. There was a woman and her baby just standing there, staring upwards, frozen in time. “Did you see— Doesn’t matter,” said Deborah, because she knew exactly where they’d gone.
Knew where she needed to follow them, as well: up and up.
Which she did, knackered by the time she’d done a few more flights. But there was still no sign of the pair. No sign of Simpson, nor Clark. Then she heard voices, further up, coming from an open doorway above her.
Deborah put on a spurt, clambering up the last few steps, using the handrail to drag herself to the door. Panting, she stumbled through – thinking that the rest Rosy had advised wouldn’t come amiss right about now – and out…
Onto the still-wet roof of the block of flats, one side of the roof, anyway. Her head started to spin at the view, at suddenly being confronted by the height she was at. There were no railings up here, no walkways.
She took a few breaths, trying to steady them. There wasn’t time for this, she had to catch up with Clark.
More voices, then a loud piercing scream. “Christ!” she mumbled, setting off again, rounding the side of the building.
There she saw her friend, standing a good way from the edge. He turned when he noticed she was there, face bloodied. There had been a struggle at some point, but up here or—
“Robbie? Robbie, what happened?” she asked as she got closer.
He shook his head, made his way to the edge and looked down. Against her better judgement, Deborah joined him, but only managed a quick peek.
There she saw a body, limbs out at odd angles, blood pooling from a head wound, it looked like. Simpson.
Clark was still shaking his head. “He… I tried to get to him, but… He was walking backwards, slipped and—”
Deborah didn’t hear the rest. She was too busy pulling back, away from that view. Away from the dead body. Dropping to her knees, head spinning once again.
Then throwing up her shepherd’s pie.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
What a mess.
What a complete and utter shitshow! Deborah, sitting sideways on the passenger seat of Clark’s car with the door open, legs sticking out, looked around at the people and vehicles that had gathered outside Meadow Hill since they’d called this in. Ambulances, cop cars, local plod. They’d already arrested the youths that had attacked her, were using the whole thing as an excuse to go through the block of flats like a dose of salts and weed out the drug dealers, the fences. But that was never what any of this had been about.
They’d probably have to give statements soon, explaining themselves, but where would you start? Right at the beginning – and which one, the centuries ago one? – or what they were doing here today? Lie perhaps, about why they’d come? She had a feeling, or maybe it was a hope, that once the SCI arrived they’d just take over everything and no explanation would be necessary.
Except to them.
Clark was already doing his best to try and explain to Glover right now. She watched him in the back of the ambulance, cuts on his face stitched up, shirt untucked where they’d had a look at his ribs – which had thankfully not been broken – rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke into his mobile.
They were in so much trouble.
Her eyes flitted over to where the cordoned-off body lay now. Luke Simpson. He was in more trouble, or perhaps his troubles were over. Depended very much on whether you believed in ghosts. Did she feel sorry for him? Deborah wasn’t quite sure, that depended on whether he had anything to do with the events back in Norchester. But then how were they ever going to find that out now he was dead?
Hadn’t been lucky. Hadn’t reached him in time.
Correction, she hadn’t reached him in time.
Maybe she’d have been able to calm him down, talk him back from the edge – assuming she’d been able to get near it herself. But he hadn’t jumped, had he; just an accident. The wetness of the roof, the fact he was trying to get away from the police. Why? Just because he was some junkie on the wrong side of the law, or something else? Something more sinister. Something involving his brother?
Bollocks.
Deborah had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed the noise at first. Coming from her handbag, which was in the back seat. A vibrating sound, her own phone. She reached around and grabbed it, rooting around inside for the mobile and freeing it.
She looked at the caller ID. Her mother.
God, that was all she needed right now. And another videocall, damn and blast. Deborah thought about just letting it ring off, then felt guilty and accepted it. “Mum,” she said.
Wendy Harrison filled the screen, and she looked upset. “Deborah,” she answered, voice thin and reedy, then suddenly higher-pitched. “Oh, thank the Lord! I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. Well, since the power came back on from the storm and the phones started working again… Where have you been?”
“Signal was rubbish, and then… What’s happened? Mum, what’s wrong?”
Wendy sucked in a breath. “It’s Isobel.”
Deborah’s mind immediately brought up the parental rolodex of things it could possibly be: that she’d had an accident herself; that she was sick with some mystery virus; the headache had got worse, perhaps, something brain-related; that someone had kidnapped her and was demanding a ransom; that she’d run off with some older man who’d taken her abroad to be his slave.
But it kept coming back to one thing and one thing only: The Gemini.
That she was—
“M-Mum?” was all she could manage.
“Oh, don’t worry. Sweetheart, please – she’s okay.” Wendy Harrison could obviously see the look on her face, just like Deborah could read hers. “Well, I say okay.”
“Mum, please tell me what’s happened.”
“Last night, I’m…” She sighed. “Izzy slipped out. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Slipped…” Then it clicked. She’d been so preoccupied with the case, with that bastard diary of Maxwell Craine’s, that she hadn’t realised the date, was hardly aware of what day of the week it was anymore because this whole thing was consuming her again. “The party,” she said, spitting out the words like she had a hair on her tongue.
“The party,” her mother confirmed.
“I totally forgot. Mum, I never even warned you about—”
“No, no. This is on me sweetheart. She was in my care and I dropped the ball.”
Deborah knew she should be mad, but it was only something she would have done herself at that age – okay, maybe a bit older; a lot older – if she was desperate to see friends. But her first thought was still to find out if her daughter was all right. “What happened?”
“From what I can gather, because she was in a bit of a state, some boy upset her. She’s not saying too much about it.”
“Right.” Some boy. They could deal with that, standard teenage behaviour – teenager 101, in fact. “Okay.”
“But that’s not all.”
“Not…”
“Deborah, she was brought back here by the police.”
Now she was thinking, what on earth had Izzy got herself tangled up in? Was the boy a criminal or something? Deborah looked up at Meadow Hill and couldn’t help thinking: were there drugs involved?
“They found her out in the rain, apparently. Running around in the rain. She was on her way home, said someone was following her or something, or she thought there was someone…”
Fuck.
Not a boy. Someone else.
“There are other ways to hurt people…
“We are everywhere…”
A Geminite or—
“Lucky they happened to be there, wasn’t it?” continued Wendy, one of her eyes narrowing. It was a tell-tale sign that she was scrutinising the reaction of her offspring.
“Yeah,” said Deborah. Now she understood exactly what had happened, why they were out there, especially after she’d asked Rosy to check on the security detail. Had probably clocked Izzy leaving the house, followed her at a discreet distance. Had they lost her, or followed her to the party? Either way, they’d caught up with her as she’d been walking home alone, and before anything could happen to her. “Lucky,” Deborah said, repeating her mum parrot-fashion.
“The strangest thing, though. They’re still out there, outside our house. Parked a little way down the street. Deborah, what’s going on?”
She wanted to fill her in. Tell her so, so desperately.
“Are we in some kind of danger? Is it something to do with why you’re in Norchester?”
Well, I’m not in Norchester right now; I’m at a scene of crime where I was attacked and a guy fell off a roof and died. But yes. And yes.
“Deborah, is this something to do with—”
Her mother was interrupted then, screaming and shouting in the background. The sound of kids screaming and shouting. Her kids: Jack and James. Wendy turned, the screen showing the ceiling for a second. “What in heaven’s name? Boys, boys what—”
“Mummy! Mummy!” they were both crying out in unison.
“Mum?” said Deborah. “Mum, what’s going on? What’s—”
Wendy’s face filled the screen again, but the image was jerky – either signal trouble again or she was just trying to do two things at once: talk to Deborah and calm down her grandchildren. “Hold on,” she heard her say. Then there was muffled talking, she could barely hear a word of it.
Deborah was suddenly aware of someone behind her in the back seat. She didn’t turn, because she knew instinctively who it was. Her eyes flicked up to the rear view and she saw him there, staring back. Eyebrows furrowed, worried. She knew that look all too well.
“Mummy! Is that Mummy?” Jack, she thought, her attention diverted.
“We need to talk to her!” James now.
Wendy, looking more than a little confused, said: “Did you hear that?”
“What’s the matter with them?” asked Deborah, panic rising. All she wanted to do was be there with her kids, to scoop them up in her arms and hold them tight.
Wendy held the camera towards the twins and offscreen said, “Here you go.”
“Boys?” Her voice cracked when she saw how shaken they were.
“Mummy! Mummy! The bad man…”
She didn’t even bother asking Jack who he was talking about. “What about him?”
“You have to stop him. He’s… He’s going to do something to the man with the books.” James’ pleading face.
Deborah frowned. “The man—”
“The man in the place with all the books!” Jack clarified. “He’s waiting for him.”
“No,” said Deborah, looking up at the rear view again. Jack – the ghost of her Jack – had vanished. “Boys, I have to go. But I’ll call you right back, okay?”
They both nodded, Wendy’s face hoved into view but Deborah didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her mum. She’d ended the call and was levering herself out of the car, striding across to Clark in the ambulance – almost colliding with one of the uniformed officers policing the scene as she went.
If they were lucky…
He saw her and gave a curt nod. “She’s here with me right now.” Then he put his hand over the mic. “Did you hear all that? I assume you did the way he was shouting. We’re bloody amateurs, and he’s going to have my balls in a sling.”
“Never mind about all that,” Deborah retorted. “Give me the phone.”
If they were lucky…
A bewildered Clark gaped at her. “What?”
“The boys, they’ve… seen something.” She didn’t have to say any more than that, because Clark knew about the visions, the—
“They were asleep?” he glanced at his watch. “Dreaming?”
She hadn’t even thought of that, they definitely wouldn’t be in bed this early. No, this had been a waking vision. Like Jack’s had been. She’d deal with that revelation later, she decided, and stuck out her hand. “Robbie, please.”
…it wouldn’t be another mess, a shitshow.
They’d reach him in time. Had to!
Clark handed over the phone to her. “Glover. You have to get some people to the library, right now! I know who his next target is. He’s going after Vinny…
“He’s going after Vinny Hole!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
It had been a long day.
A long night before it. Ordinarily, he’d have been down in the archives for a good while yet, still scanning in documents, or doing more research, but Vinny was tired. He’d barely had any sleep – thought he might be spending the night in jail for starters, until Deborah had got him out of there.
Then there had been the chasing up, pulling out all the stops to get her that information. Wanted to make amends for scaring her. He’d been well on his way to tracking it all down anyway, just needed a final push to get the job done, and working with her had done that.
Working with the police. Sort of.
Just like his dad had done all those years ago, helping with The Gemini case! It was his turn now. And though Vinny hadn’t done any of this for the credit obviously, for the kudos, it would probably end up being an unexpected side-effect if today was anything to go by. The way the staff had looked at him, the rumour mill in full effect. Vinny’s boss had given him the option of a few days off, but where else would he go? This place was just as much a home to him as, well, home. More so, perhaps. And the people, who now thought he was some sort of hero… Something about saving some woman, though a lot of it was still under wraps; he hadn’t even given a formal statement to the authorities yet. Even so, the way his colleagues had been looking at him…
The way Andrea looked at him now.
Andrea. Small, blonde, pretty Andrea. Perfect Andrea. He’d loved her since the moment he’d started working here, just hadn’t had the guts to tell her how he felt. Wouldn’t have been able to stand the rejection, because she could have her pick of guys – why would she be interested in him? So, not enough guts to say, ‘actually, I think you’re wonderful’.
Let’s face it, didn’t have the guts to say more than ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’ to her most days.
Except… except today she’d sought him out, as he’d been catching up stacking the shelves. Today she’d come over to talk, to chat. That never, ever happened. As he’d told Deborah, he was quite socially awkward; had been all his life. Inherited it from his father, who’d been exactly the same. However that man had met Vinny’s late mum was a miracle, but met they had. Met, married, and had children.
Marvin – him – and his brother, Marcus.
His twin brother Marcus.
Who’d been the exact opposite of him, and indeed their father. Had more of their mother in him, rest her soul. Rest both their souls now, but at least his folks were back together again, that was how Vinny had to look at it. At least there was that.
At school, Marcus had always been the popular one. The lucky one. Good at sports, listened to the right bands. Always the one who wasn’t afraid to talk to girls. Might not have done well academically, but that was only because he was out having fun. Having the time of his life, as a matter of fact. While Marvin…Vinny, as he preferred to be called, much to his dad’s chagrin – an attempt to try and make himself sound more cool, when he was anything but – well, he hit the books. He was a chip off the old block, off the old man; a bookworm just like him. Could read so fast – he’d get through a huge tome in just a couple of hours – learning, always learning, and his grades were so high some of his teachers thought he might be cheating. His dad went in to argue his case about that on one occasion, saying how proud he was of Vinny and that the boy didn’t have a cheating bone in his body.
Vinny found the odd friend or two here and there (and, sometimes, they were really, really odd). Nerds, mostly, who were into role playing, comics, computer games, that kind of thing. But even they didn’t stick around for very long. So, when Marcus took off to travel the world after he left school, Vinny found himself getting closer and closer to his dad. Even taking up his interests. One in particular, of course: his father’s ‘claim to fame’. Not that it had made him famous at all; he was massively overlooked when it came to news reporting about The Gemini.
But without Marvin Snr’s help, they’d never have found those underground cells at Yardley Street. They’d never have stopped the serial killer that was terrorising this city back then. Didn’t seem very fair to Vinny, not at all. Hadn’t been Deborah Harrison’s fault, Vinny knew that. She’d had her own problems to deal with, not least the death of the man she loved.
Yet his father never complained, was always very happy he’d been able to assist. It had led to his interest – obsession was more apt – with all things ‘Gemini’. Vinny recalled his dad showing him the research he was doing down in the archives, in addition to his actual duties at the library, and he’d been in awe. Had been delighted to take it all over when his father passed away, saw it as more than just a legacy – it was something important. Vinny had completed his degree at Norchester Uni first, then trained as a librarian and followed his dad into working here. Had his father known even then that he didn’t have long left? You could never tell, he was so private about, well, private things.
Marcus had returned for the funeral, naturally. Had been more than a little hacked off with Vinny because he hadn’t let him know sooner about the illness. “It all happened so fast,” had been Vinny’s response. “Plus I wasn’t sure where you were.”
