We headed first to the hallway leading to Knollenberg’s office, giving a nod to the lone assistant manager, looking tired and bored behind the front desk. “He ’as gone home for ze evening,” the man called, and I noticed that he had a lovely French accent. I stopped midway down the hall to poke my head back out and look at him.
“I know,” I said. “We’re working to locate the ghost of Mr. Duke. You haven’t seen him, have you?”
The assistant manager, whom I remembered from the other night, when Heath and I were attacked by the serpent, and whom Knollenberg had called Anton, said, “Er . . .
non
.”
“Cool. If his ghost comes out this way, would you try to stall him?”
“Stall ’eem?” Anton squeaked.
“Yeah,” I said, as if I were asking the easiest thing in the world. “You know, strike up a conversation with him, and try not to let him move through you or disappear until we come back out.”
Even in the dim light Anton seemed to pale. “I must go work on my reports,” he announced. “I shall be in ze office if you need me.” And with that I watched with a giddy smile as he ducked into the small office right behind the counter area.
“You’re mean,” Tony admonished, but there was humor in his voice.
“Hey, you gotta get your giggles in where you can,” I said cheerily. “Come on, I think there’s a hot spot near Duke’s portrait.” We moved farther down the hallway, and I opened up all my senses. When we came to the painting displaying Phineas Duke’s image, I stood still and closed my eyes. In the background I heard a slight humming sound and knew that Tony had started filming.
“M.J.?” Gilley’s voice blared into my ear. “What’s your twenty? Over.”
I held back a heavy sigh at Gilley’s wanting to overplay this whole commando thing and said, “We’ve arrived at the Duke portrait. I’ll contact you as soon as something happens. Over.”
“Copy that,” Gil said. “Over.”
I closed my eyes again and concentrated, feeling out the ether. It took a little while, but soon I had the smallest thread of energy, which felt male, and then a picture formed in my head of a man in his mid-forties with thinning hair and a big, bold mustache. His clothing was refined, and in his hands he carried a top hat. Then, very faintly, I heard a sound that wasn’t in my head, and I also heard Tony gasp and ask, “What was
that
?”
I opened one eye. “You heard it too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “It sounded like someone said, ‘Sara.’ ”
I smiled and opened the other eye. “It did,” I agreed. “Come on.” I moved away from the portrait and followed the slight tugging sensation back down the hallway and out onto the mezzanine, already knowing where the energy was that was pulling me toward it.
Again I heard a noise, but this one was different, and Tony gasped again behind me. “What was
that
?” he said.
“Horses’ hooves,” I said. “Out on the street.”
There was a pause, and I had the sense that Tony was aiming the camera outside. Then he said, “There aren’t any horses out there!”
“I know,” I said calmly. “If you’ve read your history, you’ll know that Mr. Duke was tragically killed two months after his daughter died when a horse-drawn carriage overturned and crushed him.”
“Shit,” Tony hissed nervously. “Aren’t you scared?”
I stopped in front of the large window overlooking the street outside. “Not at all.” Then I closed my eyes again and reached out in my mind.
Mr. Duke
, I called.
Mr. Duke, can you hear me?
Right next to me and in a clear, crisp voice, a man asked, “I say, have you seen my daughter?” That was followed by a small shriek in front of me, and my eyes snapped open.
Glaring hard at Tony the shrieker, I warned, “Listen, pal, either get it together here or go home. I’ve got to focus, and I can’t do that if you’re squealing like a little girl.”
“M.J.? Your meter readings are off the charts. What’s your twenty? Over,” called Gilley into my ear.
Tony was shaking head to toe, and I clicked on the microphone and said, “I’ve just made contact with Mr. Duke.” In my mind I could feel the spirit of Duke getting agitated.
Have you seen my daughter?
he repeated, his tone sharp in my head.
“Yes, Mr. Duke,” I said aloud. “Your daughter is safe and sound and waiting for you. Would you like to join her?”
Where is she?
he said in my mind.
I looked into the camera and said, “He’s just asked me where his daughter is.”
Who’s that you’re speaking to?
asked Duke.
“No one, Mr. Duke. Getting back to your daughter. She’s been waiting for you, and I’d like to take you to her, if I may.”
“Lead the way,” the disembodied voice said softly.
I walked over to the staircase and looked up to the top step. For the sake of the television and knowing Mr. Duke would find it difficult to continue a verbal conversation loud enough for the microphones to pick up clearly, I decided to improvise a little. “Mr. Duke, if you can hear me all right, would you please make a sound, like a tap or a knock?”
Right next to Tony there was a loud
thonk
, and I swear the cameraman looked as though he were ready to bolt.
I smiled winningly into the camera, as if this were all a bit of fun. “Marvelous, Mr. Duke! That’s really good. Now, sir, if we could communicate through knocks, that would be wonderful. Do you remember the last time you saw your daughter here?” I asked, pointing up to the staircase. “Please knock once for no and twice for yes.” There were two distinct knocks right near my feet.
“Excellent,” I said. “And do you remember that little Sara was playing on the banister when you last saw her?” Again two knocks thudded on the floor. “Great, Mr. Duke, you’re doing really well. Now, however, I’m afraid I might upset you, because I’m going to ask you to remember what happened next. Do you remember?”
There was a long pause, followed by one solid knock for no.
I took a deep breath and went for it. “Yes, well, I’m not surprised, sir, because what happened next was most upsetting. But, little Sara fell from the banister and hit her head. And I’m so sorry to remind you of this, Mr. Duke, but her body did not survive.”
Without warning a knock so loud that it trembled the floor sounded, and a vase on one of the tables tipped over and crashed to the ground. “Holy shit!” squealed Tony, but followed that quickly by saying, “Sorry!” when I glared at him.
“Mr. Duke,” I called into the pregnant silence that followed. “I know this is most distressing to you, and I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss, but, you see, a good friend of mine has recently been in contact with the spirit of your daughter, and Sara is safe and well where she is, and really hoping that you’ll join her soon. Would you like to join her, Mr. Duke?”
I waited several beats for an answer, but nothing came. “Is he gone?” whispered Tony.
I ignored him and called out again, “Mr. Duke! I need you to listen to me, because your daughter needs you, sir! She misses you terribly, and she needs her father. Won’t you please let me know that you’re here by tapping for us again?”
Two small but solid taps sounded near my feet, and I felt a flood of relief. “Awesome!” I said, and clapped my hands. “I knew you could do it, Mr. Duke. Now, I must remind you of something else very unsettling, and that is a time shortly after you lost your Sara. You were outside and a horse reared up, and when it did something fell on you. Do you remember?”
There was another pause, and finally two taps sounded.
“So you remember that the carriage fell on top of you, Mr. Duke? You remember that you were trapped beneath it, and the next time you woke up things were really different, correct?”
Two knocks.
“Yes, that’s it,” I coaxed. “And the reason they were different, Mr. Duke, was because you did not survive the coach falling on top of you. Like Sara, your body did not recover. But this is the most magical and wonderful thing, Mr. Duke. Because of that, you can rejoin Sara! You two can be reunited and never lose track of each other again!”
I paused to see if Duke would respond, and was thrilled when I heard two more knocks.
“Good for you, sir!” I encouraged. “Now, let’s get started sending you home to your daughter.”
For the next few minutes I talked Duke into crossing over, which he did with relative calm and ease. Tony told me a little later that on camera he’d seen a twinkling light rise up along the staircase and then flash brightly twice before going out altogether, which I thought was a really good visualization for what actually happens.
After we were finished with Duke I clicked on my microphone again and said, “Gil, we’ve successfully gotten Mr. Duke across. Over.”
“Awesome, M.J.,” said Gil. “Heath is working on the shadow figure in room five-eighteen. Over.”
“No luck finding the lady in gray on the top floor?” I asked. When Gil didn’t immediately reply I sighed and gave a weary, “Over.”
“Nope,” he said. “Heath thinks she must have crossed on her own twenty years ago. Over.”
“Cool,” I said. “We’re on our way to the handsy guy in the old dining hall. Over.”
Clicking off my microphone again I motioned to Tony to follow me, but he hesitated and said, “I don’t know that I want to keep going.”
Great
, I thought.
I get saddled with the big baby in the group.
“I get it,” I said to him. “I mean, this stuff isn’t for everyone. And I’m sure that Gopher won’t mind if you bail. I mean, it’s not like you really need this gig anyway. He probably doesn’t throw you a ton of work or anything, right?”
Tony seemed to hop from foot to foot, the camera now off and in the dim light a very worried expression crossed his face. “It’s just that, well, I wasn’t expecting it to be like this, you know?”
“Sure, sure,” I reassured him. “This stuff requires some strong nerves. I understand if you don’t really have what it takes. I’m sure everyone will understand; like, your friends and family will really get how scared you were, and no one will even
think
to make fun of you or anything, right?”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. He was clearly suspicious that I might be doing just that. “Hey,” he said, but before he could say more I turned and began to walk away.
“Give my best to the wife and kids,” I called over my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find another, better-paying gig soon!”
Behind me I heard the soft padding of sneakered feet hurrying across the marble floor. “Fine,” he growled. “But if anything else crazy happens, I’m outta here!”
I regarded him with a level look. “Sugar,” I said, in my best Georgian drawl, “you better gird those loins, ’cause, trust me, you ain’t seen jack yet.”
Tony and I headed to the largest of the conference rooms, located at the end of the same hall where Gil had set up his command center. I stopped briefly at Gilley’s door and poked my head in to say hi. “Hey, guy, just stopping by for a wave. We’ll be right next door.”
Gil looked up from his monitors and gave me a smile as he pushed his earpiece in with his finger and said, “Come again, Heath? I didn’t hear that. Over.”
I was closing the door when I heard Gilley’s voice spike as he said, “What’s his position?”
I hesitated and stuck my head back through the opening. “What’s going on?” Tony asked from behind me.
“Heath!” Gilley shouted into his microphone. “Heath, do you copy? Over?”
I opened the door fully and stepped inside the room while reaching to turn the channel for my headgear to three. Immediately my ear filled with shouting and commotion, and I gasped. “Christ!” I said, staring wide-eyed at Gil, who was mirroring my own reaction. “Where are they?” I demanded.
“I don’t know!” Gilley cried. “They were in room five-eighteen, and then Heath said they were coming down a few floors, and all of a sudden I heard Gopher scream and Heath started yelling, and now I can’t get either of them to respond!”
I whirled around and began running as a terrible commotion sounded in my ear. Behind me Tony was calling to me to wait up, but there was no way I was going to slow down. I got to the stairs and churned up the steps. Pulling the microphone close to my mouth I shouted, “Gil! Can you get a bead on their monitors?”
In my ear I could still hear shouting and what sounded like furniture being tossed around. Through all that I heard Gil say, “I think they’re on the third floor!”
“Heath!” I yelled as I reached the top landing and dashed in the direction of the interior stairwell. “Heath, can you hear me? Over?”
But Heath didn’t or couldn’t respond. “
Heath!
” I screamed.
“Use your grenade!”
Still the commotion continued even while I tugged open the stairwell door and began running up the steps. I reached the second-floor landing and tried again. “Gopher!” I yelled. “Pull off the cap on your grenade!” But no one was responding to my pleas.
From way behind me I heard the stairwell door open and Tony shout, “M.J.!”
My arms were pumping as I urged my aching thighs to keep moving quickly up the stairs. “Get up here!” I called down to him. “And have your grenades ready to launch!”
Finally I reached the third floor and burst through the door. I could hear pounding and shouting from down the corridor, and worse, I could also feel the presence of something dark and terrible.
I was hit with a wall of awful foreboding and immediately knew I was being watched. There were no lights on, so I yelled down to base camp, “Gilley! Have them turn the lights on!”
“What?” he said. “M.J., you’re breaking up. I did not copy that. Over!”
I clicked on my flashlight and moved stealthily down the hall in the direction of the muffled shouting. “Have the manager turn on the lights!” I tried again.
“Copy that!” Gil said. “Give me a few minutes; I’ve got to go find him!”
“He’s in the office right behind the front desk,” I said, still moving carefully down the corridor, my free hand resting on the cap of my grenade. “Heath?” I called. “Gopher?”