Haunted by James Herbert Read Free Book Online Page B

Not a thing. The line was dead. As stolidly reliable as the machine presented itself, it was useless. Did these old pieces eventually wear themselves out, or was the fault somewhere in the system beyond these walls? Whatever, it was a bloody nuisance.
    He wheeled around on hearing a footstep in the hallway behind him, at once surprised by his own nervousness.
    ‘Miss Webb,’ he said, surprised even more by his relief. ‘Uh, the phone – looks like you’ve been cut off.’
    She was close to him, peering up into his face. ‘We’re always having trouble with the lines,’ she said. ‘That’s one of the few disadvantages of living in the country.’ She took the receiver from him and, without bothering to check it for herself, rested it on its cradle. ‘I’ll do something about it when I go into the village tomorrow.’
    Her eyes were intent on him and he wondered if the anxiety in them was merely her usual expression. She was a small woman, almost frail in build, and he guessed she was somewhere in her late sixties or early seventies. What was she to Christina and her brothers? An aunt, yes, but what else? As far as he could tell, she ran the house for them, and that had to be quite a task for someone of her age.
    ‘Mr Ash . . .’ she said, then hesitated to say more.
    He waited.
    It was almost a whisper. ‘You will take care while you’re here at Edbrook, won’t you?’
    He could not help but grin. ‘I told you: spooks can’t touch us. They shouldn’t even frighten us really, not when we know their true cause.’
    ‘There are different ways to be . . .’ again the hesitation ‘. . . haunted.’
    ‘I thought you understood my views—’
    Her retort was sharp. ‘No, you’re the one who doesn’t understand.’
    ‘Then explain it to me,’ he said stiffly.
    But another voice interrupted before she could answer. ‘Our investigator doesn’t want his head filled with your silly notions, Nanny.’
    They looked up to see Robert Mariell watching them from the stairs.
    ‘Isn’t that right, Mr Ash?’ His expression was only mildly reproving.
    Ash turned back to the aunt. ‘I’ll be asking questions tomorrow,’ he told her patiently, puzzled by her behaviour.
    ‘Then we’ll leave you in peace,’ said Robert. ‘Come along, Nanny, let our guest get on with his work. Good night to you, Mr Ash. You won’t be disturbed again.’
    With that he turned and disappeared into the darkness at the top of the stairs. Avoiding Ash’s gaze, Nanny Tess hurried after her nephew.
    Ash watched her diminutive figure climb the stairs, then shook his head. It seemed that the Mariells’ aunt was not as keen on Edbrook’s ‘ghost’ as the rest of the family appeared to be.

 

7
     
    Ash spent the rest of the evening setting up equipment around the house. Four thermometers, whose lowest reading during the night would be registered, were placed against walls or rested on furniture; tape recorders with noise-actuation devices were located in the library and kitchen; cameras linked to capacitance change detectors, so that any movement in the vicinity would trigger off shutters, were set up in the drawing room and study; at certain points, both upstairs and down, he sprinkled a fine layer of powder on the floor, and across one or two doorways he stretched black cotton.
    Later, by lamplight, he sat in his room and studied rough plans he had drawn up of Edbrook, with its labyrinth of rooms and corridors, occasionally taking a nip from the vodka bottle standing within hand’s reach on the bureau. He smoked one cigarette after another as he made notes in a pad and now and again he would glance towards the window where the night seemed to press against the glass.
    Eventually he left the room to roam the house, treading warily around powder patches, not entering those places containing detection instruments, nor disturbing doors with cotton stretched across.
    Edbrook was quiet. And it was still.
    Somewhere in the house a clock