know, it really might have been just a bad dream. Don’t you remember we were discussing David over lunch? Perhaps it triggered off something in your sleep.’
‘If you won’t, then let me phone the house now.’
‘You know that isn’t possible. The Institute’s clients are guaranteed absolute discretion – I can’t even discuss the case with you. And besides, I don’t have the number, I’ll have to go through Directory tomorrow.’ Kate eyed the brandy in Harcourt’s glass, feeling in need of a stiff shot herself. ‘Now please go back to bed and try to stop worrying – this kind of thing won’t do your condition any good at all. I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as I have news, good or bad.’
‘Please, Kate . . .’
‘ Good night , Edith.’
The medium blinked when the line was disconnected. She studied the receiver for several moments before replacing it. Edith stared at the opposite wall, her mind on David Ash.
Kate was thoughtful as she turned away from the phone. Her way was blocked by the tall figure of Harcourt. ‘That sounded fraught,’ he said.
‘One of the Institute’s resident spiritualists,’ Kate replied distractedly. ‘She was quite upset.’
‘Obviously a neurotic type.’ He grinned disdainfully.
‘Normally she’s as down-to-earth as you and I.’
‘Down-to-earth? Someone who converses with ghosts? Come on, Kate, I accept you take your job of researching such things very seriously, but there must be times when even you find it difficult to swallow.’
‘Not very often, as a matter of fact.’ Kate brushed past him, going back into the lounge where she picked up her brandy. She turned to him as he followed her. ‘I think you should leave now, Colin.’
Harcourt stopped dead. ‘Hey, what did I say? I wasn’t knocking you, nor the Institute. I know how dedicated you are. It’s not always easy for us ordinary folk to understand what it’s all about though.’
‘I’m aware of that. But I’m a little tired.’
‘Preoccupied, you mean,’ he retorted.
‘I don’t want to argue. The evening’s been too nice for that.’
‘Well, let’s continue it then. Look, I’m supposed to be away on business.’
‘Tell your wife you got through quicker than you thought you would. It’ll be a nice surprise for her.’
Harcourt was incredulous. ‘You’re serious?’
Kate nodded, going to the door.
‘What the hell’s got into you?’ Harcourt stared at her, incredulity turning to exasperation. ‘Is it something to do with this man you were talking about on the phone? This . . . David, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m just tired. Please go, Colin.’
Harcourt thumped down his brandy glass on a coffee table and strode to the door, collecting an overcoat draped over an armchair on the way. ‘I’ll never understand you, Kate,’ he said with more resignation than bitterness.
Kate’s reply was apologetic. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
He paused in the doorway. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t bother.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
With a twitch of disgust, Harcourt disappeared into the hallway. Kate blinked at the slamming of the front door.
She sank down onto the sofa, the brandy glass held over her knees. Her face was troubled, and her thoughts were of David Ash.
Perhaps she should have accompanied him on this case, as she had on other occasions in the past. She remembered the last time, more than a year ago . . .
9
‘When was the last time you went to church?’ asked Kate.
‘Now there’s a question,’ Ash said.
‘Whatever, there’s a chance for you to catch up on all you’ve missed.’
He took the vodka from her and pulled a face when he tasted the tonic she’d added.
‘Neat poison will kill you.’ Kate sat beside him on the sofa. She pushed at the heels of her shoes, working them off, then settled back against the cushions. She sipped her wine while Ash waited for her to explain.
‘An interesting case turned up today, one I’d like you to
‘If you won’t, then let me phone the house now.’
‘You know that isn’t possible. The Institute’s clients are guaranteed absolute discretion – I can’t even discuss the case with you. And besides, I don’t have the number, I’ll have to go through Directory tomorrow.’ Kate eyed the brandy in Harcourt’s glass, feeling in need of a stiff shot herself. ‘Now please go back to bed and try to stop worrying – this kind of thing won’t do your condition any good at all. I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as I have news, good or bad.’
‘Please, Kate . . .’
‘ Good night , Edith.’
The medium blinked when the line was disconnected. She studied the receiver for several moments before replacing it. Edith stared at the opposite wall, her mind on David Ash.
Kate was thoughtful as she turned away from the phone. Her way was blocked by the tall figure of Harcourt. ‘That sounded fraught,’ he said.
‘One of the Institute’s resident spiritualists,’ Kate replied distractedly. ‘She was quite upset.’
‘Obviously a neurotic type.’ He grinned disdainfully.
‘Normally she’s as down-to-earth as you and I.’
‘Down-to-earth? Someone who converses with ghosts? Come on, Kate, I accept you take your job of researching such things very seriously, but there must be times when even you find it difficult to swallow.’
‘Not very often, as a matter of fact.’ Kate brushed past him, going back into the lounge where she picked up her brandy. She turned to him as he followed her. ‘I think you should leave now, Colin.’
Harcourt stopped dead. ‘Hey, what did I say? I wasn’t knocking you, nor the Institute. I know how dedicated you are. It’s not always easy for us ordinary folk to understand what it’s all about though.’
‘I’m aware of that. But I’m a little tired.’
‘Preoccupied, you mean,’ he retorted.
‘I don’t want to argue. The evening’s been too nice for that.’
‘Well, let’s continue it then. Look, I’m supposed to be away on business.’
‘Tell your wife you got through quicker than you thought you would. It’ll be a nice surprise for her.’
Harcourt was incredulous. ‘You’re serious?’
Kate nodded, going to the door.
‘What the hell’s got into you?’ Harcourt stared at her, incredulity turning to exasperation. ‘Is it something to do with this man you were talking about on the phone? This . . . David, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m just tired. Please go, Colin.’
Harcourt thumped down his brandy glass on a coffee table and strode to the door, collecting an overcoat draped over an armchair on the way. ‘I’ll never understand you, Kate,’ he said with more resignation than bitterness.
Kate’s reply was apologetic. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
He paused in the doorway. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t bother.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
With a twitch of disgust, Harcourt disappeared into the hallway. Kate blinked at the slamming of the front door.
She sank down onto the sofa, the brandy glass held over her knees. Her face was troubled, and her thoughts were of David Ash.
Perhaps she should have accompanied him on this case, as she had on other occasions in the past. She remembered the last time, more than a year ago . . .
9
‘When was the last time you went to church?’ asked Kate.
‘Now there’s a question,’ Ash said.
‘Whatever, there’s a chance for you to catch up on all you’ve missed.’
He took the vodka from her and pulled a face when he tasted the tonic she’d added.
‘Neat poison will kill you.’ Kate sat beside him on the sofa. She pushed at the heels of her shoes, working them off, then settled back against the cushions. She sipped her wine while Ash waited for her to explain.
‘An interesting case turned up today, one I’d like you to
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