Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [73]
Raymond Bowman spoke so quietly that Webster could hardly hear him. ‘Yes sir.’
‘Good, now get out of my sight.’
After Bowman left the office Harrigan sat in silence at his desk, staring blankly ahead. Webster wondered if the big old man had forgotten that he was there. But then the fleshy head turned and the deep sunk eyes focused on him.
‘What have you got for me, son? Good news?’
‘I’m afraid not, sir.’
‘Well let me have it.’
‘Benny’s left the building. She got past security and stole that car Artie and the Bowmans were using. She’s gone and we have no idea where.’
* * *
Chapter 17
‘Help us. Help us, please.’
‘Just relax,’ said Ace. ‘Try not to panic.’ Although she was strapped into the chair she could see Shell if she twisted her head far enough to the left. Ace tried to make eye contact with the girl and offer some kind of reassurance.
But Shell ignored her, staring up towards the ceiling. Ace followed her gaze and saw the small bird she’d noticed earlier, perched on the rafters, bobbing its tiny head and looking down at them. ‘Please help us to get out of here,’ said Shell. Ace wondered for a crazy moment if she was addressing the bird or, more rationally, perhaps talking to Jack. But a moment later it all became clear when Shell said, ‘We honour you, the spirit of warlock.’
‘It’s all right.’ Ace turned her head to the right and saw Jack watching her. ‘She always gets like this when she’s high,’ he said. ‘At least, she does when she’s high on warlock.’
The smell of liquorice was heavy in the barn.
‘Warlock will help us.’ Ace turned at the sound of Shell’s voice. The girl was looking at her. ‘Warlock helped me to find you,’ she smiled. Her broad, sensual face was glowing. Above those strong Slavic cheekbones her eyes reminded Ace more strongly than ever of a cat’s. Now they looked sleepy and heavy‐lidded.
Despite her tattoos Shell could look strikingly beautiful at unpredictable moments. This was one of those moments. ‘The girl in the old house on Allen Road,’ she said. Her eyes glowed as she smiled at Ace. It was a hungry smile, almost lascivious. Those rich, full lips curving irresistibly, ripe and infectious with… what? Mirth? Desire? ‘The girl who lives with him. I had heard stories about him. Some people said he didn’t exist. But I believed. And I found the house. And I found him. And I found you.’ She looked at Ace with sleepy, sensual eyes. ‘I came to blow you a kiss through the gates. Warlock helped me.’ Her voice was low and husky. Seductive.
‘Horny little thing, isn’t she?’ said Jack, with equal measures of pride and disgust in his voice.
Shell ignored him. ‘Warlock will help us now,’ she whispered. Then she fell silent, as though an unpleasant thought had suddenly occurred to her. ‘I’m sure.’ But she didn’t sound sure. There was a sudden disquiet in those glowing eyes. ‘But warlock is a sacrament,’ she said. Uncertainty was dispelling that smooth, lazy voice. ‘It’s powerful. It shouldn’t be abused.’ Ace could hear the girl’s voice tightening, rising in pitch as the tension grew in her.
‘Hey, Shell. Take it easy, girl,’ Jack said.
‘Warlock has been dishonoured,’ said Shell. ‘We were compelled to take the drug. We had no choice. We haven’t invited warlock into our minds. Warlock has been forced to come to us. Warlock, we have dishonoured you.’
‘I thought you said she always gets like this.’
‘This is worse than usual.’
‘She’s talking to the drug like it’s a person.’
‘Sure,’ Jack nodded. ‘It’s all that shamanistic crap. You know, like peyote. Mescalito. The notion of hallucinogenic drugs as messengers from the spirit world. Or car park attendants or something.’
Ace smiled at the bearded man. ‘Remind me to buy you a drink