The Haunting of Lannister Hall Read online

  He pauses, before reaching into the dark space.

  “Wait!” I gasp.

  He turns to me.

  “She might be fragile,” I continue.

  “She's almost certainly fragile,” he replies. “She's also extremely relevant to our investigation. The damage to her neck is clear, but that might not be the whole story. We don't have time to do things by the books. I want to know exactly what happened to this child.”

  With that, he reaches into the gap again, and I watch as he starts pulling away more sections of the wall. It's clear that the corpse has been placed in some kind of hidden alcove which in itself raises plenty of questions. I've studied the plans of Lannister Hall extensively, and I know for a fact that there's not supposed to be any kind of space behind this wall. I feel as if I should have noticed that there was space for these gaps, but I guess I wasn't paying enough attention.

  If Josh hadn't noticed, we might never have found Millicent.

  “Remarkable,” Doctor Carter says as he pulls away another, larger section of the wall, revealing almost the entire body, which is still wearing a faded, dusty white dress. “I need to document the find. Katie, would you run to my bag downstairs and bring it up here? Hurry, girl, it's important.”

  “Sure,” I murmur, before turning and heading out of the room.

  I head to the top of the staircase, but then I stop for a moment and look over my shoulder. I can hear Josh and Doctor Carter talking in the master bedroom, but for a few seconds I can only stare along the corridor, watching the shadows in case there's any sign of movement. I know that ghosts tend to be far more active at night, but for a moment I find myself wondering whether Catherine Lannister might have been stirred by the realization that Millicent's body has been discovered. It's hard to believe that this matter could possibly pass her by.

  Making my way downstairs, I still feel deeply uncomfortable. It's as if I'm being watched from all sides, but I guess that's just a kind of low, latent paranoia.

  I grab Doctor Carter's bag from the hallway, and then I start hurrying back up to the master bedroom.

  “I got it,” I say as I step into the room, “but -”

  Startled, I stop as soon as I see Millicent Lannister's body laid out on the floor. I was only gone for a matter of minutes, yet in that time Josh and Doctor Carter have remove the corpse and set it down against the wooden boards. I honestly don't know what's more shocking: the fact that there are still scraps of skin attached to her skull, or the fact that she's still wearing a pretty little white dress with red laces round the hem.

  I know we're scientists, and investigators, but this feels wrong.

  This is a child.

  “There's no damage to the dress,” Doctor Carter says as he pulls the fabric away from the girl's body. He not being very delicate, and I wince as he starts poking at the bare ribs. “Apart from the broken neck, the child appears to have been in fairly good health.”

  “Doctor Carter,” I say cautiously, “maybe -”

  “Let's see for sure,” he adds, before tearing the dress and pulling it aside.

  “Stop!” I yell, taking a step forward.

  “What's wrong?” Doctor Carter asks, clearly shocked as he looks up at me.

  “That's a human being,” I point out. “Or it was, at least. It's a dead body, and a child, and it should be treated like...”

  My voice trails off as I realize that Doctor Carter is staring at me with an expression that's slowly changing from surprise to disgust.

  “I just thought we should treat it with respect, that's all,” I continue.

  “It's just bones,” Josh says after a moment. “Bones and bits of an old dress.”

  “It was a person once, though,” I reply, even though I know that I'm most likely irritating Doctor Carter even further. “I mean, she was a person.”

  Looking down at the lower end of the corpse, I see that it does indeed have one misformed foot.

  “This was almost certainly Millicent Lannister,” I continue, “and we should remember that. I guess that's all I'm trying to say.”

  “And you've said it,” Doctor Carter replies. “Ms. Sinclair, we don't have the luxury of observing all the niceties. We need to have concluded our examination by the time night falls, so that we can get on with our second stint of observing the ghost of Catherine Lannister. However, if you would prefer not to be present while we examine the dead girl, then I would suggest that you go and busy yourself checking the relay sensors on the ground floor. They were playing up a little during the night. I want them to be fully reliable from now on.”

  “Sure,” I say, even though I know Doctor Carter will respect me less for this decision.

  A lot less.

  “I'll be downstairs,” I add, turning and heading out of the room.

  I've made it about two steps when I hear Doctor Carter say something under his breath, and then he and Josh both laugh. I stop for a moment, and I briefly considering going back and defending myself, but then I realize that there's really no point. A few seconds later, I hear another faint ripple of laughter, accompanied by a clinking sound that I think is being caused by bones bumping together.

  I tell myself that I'm being unscientific.

  That I'm being emotional.

  That I'm being irrational.

  Finally, figuring that I just need to clear my head, I make my way downstairs and get to work being useful. Doctor Carter was right when he said that the relay sensors were problematic last night, and we need to fix that before nightfall. So as I kneel down and start to examine the first sensor, I resolve to put my concerns aside and just get on with the task at hand.

  I'm a scientist. I should stick to what I do best. And yet, as I get to work, I can't shake the feeling that we're doing the wrong thing. That we're starting to interfere in something we really don't understand.

  III

  “Output 15.5,” I whisper, as I read from the sensor, “magnitude... seventeen.”

  I make a note on my clipboard. So far, I've checked about thirty sensors, and I still haven't found anything that could explain the intermittent faults we're suffered last night. At the back of my mind, I'm already starting to wonder whether in some way the presence of Catherine Lannister's ghost might have caused the sensor problems. Doctor Carter's adamant that this would be impossible, but – as I almost reminded him – we're still very much at the cutting-edge of all this technology.

  Maybe, after this investigation is over, I could write a thesis on the subject.

  I reach out to check the latest sensor one final time, but at the last moment I hear a faint sound over my shoulder. I turn and look across the hallway, and after a moment my attention is drawn to a closed doorway that leads through to the house's other wing. I know from my studies that the door was often used as a divider, sectioning off the part of the house that was once home to all the servants. Lannister Hall had servants up until about the early nineteenth century, at which point the Lannister family suffered a drastic dip in their fortunes. Nevertheless, the door still has several wooden boards nailed in place, sealing the other half of the house off. I guess someone really didn't want the servants to accidentally come through.

  I watch the door, and a moment later I hear another sound.

  Whatever just happened, it was small. My first thought is that perhaps a small piece of wood fell from the door's rather rotten frame, but at the same time I can't help but think that the sound seemed a little more metallic.

  Glad of any excuse to take a break from my work with the sensors, I get to my feet and head over to take a closer look. Once I start examining the door, I find that there are scores of small nails holding the boards in place. I look down at the floor, and I see to my surprise that some of the nails are now down on the tiles.

  I crouch down and pick one of the nails up. It's about two inches long, and jet black, and the shaft is twisted slightly. Turning the nail around, I see that it's slightly marked along its length, which sugges
ts -

  Suddenly a third nail falls to the floor, right in front of me.

  I look up at the door, and I watch for a moment in case there's any sign of movement. I know that there can't be any ghostly activity in the middle of the day, but I have to admit that it's awfully unlikely that these nails would simply start falling from the door without any external help.

  I pick up the other two nails, before getting to my feet and examining the door a little more closely. The boards seem to be very firmly secured in place, and I can't find any more loose nails. I eventually find the three small holes where the loose nails must have once been, and it's hard to believe that the nails could have simply slid out of their positions.

  Finally, I tell myself that I need to stay focused on the task at hand, so I force the nails back into their holes and then I get back to work with the sensors.

  IV

  “You're going to do what?” I gasp.

  “Please don't launch into an attack of histrionics, Ms. Sinclair,” Doctor Carter says with a heavy sigh. “This really isn't a controversial move. We simply aim to use the resources at hand to draw out the ghost of Catherine Lannister.”

  “You want to use her dead daughter as bait? To try to get a reaction from her?”

  “I thought you'd be happy,” he replies. “I was adamant that ghosts can't recognize the presence of living people, but events over the past twenty-four hours have made me reconsider the possibility. I contend that this is a perfect opportunity to test the idea and get a definitive answer.”

  “She looked at me last night,” Josh adds. “I swear, I'm not making it up.”

  “We need to test the limits of this possibility,” Doctor Carter continues. “I've been working on some ideas, and I'm fairly sure that I'm getting closer to the truth. If ghosts were commonplace, then we'd see them everywhere. I don't for one moment know how many people have lived, but popular estimates put the number at around 105 billion. That's an awful lot of ghosts for the world to accommodate. I'm sure we're all wondering where they are.”

  “What does this have to do with using Millicent Lannister as bait?” I ask.

  “Obviously the vast majority of people do not become ghosts,” he replies. “The number that linger must be extremely small. That, in turn, suggests to me that ghosts only result from unusual and unnatural situations, perhaps those in which an individual is pushed beyond breaking point. Perhaps they have suffered unimaginable tragedy, or perhaps they were filled with some kind of raging anger when they died. Something of that nature allows these souls to remain.”

  “So why is Catherine Lannister still here?” Josh asks.

  “That's precisely what we must determine,” Doctor Carter says. “Now, I am no expert when it comes to motherhood, but I find it hard to believe that the presence of young Millicent behind the wall is a coincidence.”

  “Yeah, I don't quite see that either,” Josh mutters.

  “It is my contention,” Doctor Carter continues, “that Catherine Lannister suffered some kind of emotional breakdown, and that this breakdown is related to her daughter. This must be the trauma that somehow anchored the ghost to this house.” He pauses. “I suppose other dead souls dissipate, or they leave the mortal world in some way. Catherine Lannister, meanwhile, must have a very strong reason to remain.”

  “Maybe she was guarding the kid,” Josh suggests.

  “That's entirely possible,” Doctor Carter replies.

  “Like a mother bear,” Josh continues. “They're the ones who go crazy, aren't they? If anyone goes near their cubs, they let rip.”

  I turn to him.

  “What?” he asks. “It's a genuine observation. Mothers in general tend to be nuts. Humans, too. I mean, my mother still phones me up twice a week to check that I've got enough underwear. Come on, Katie, doesn't your mother do the same thing?” He hesitates. “Oh, wait,” he adds finally, “sorry. I forgot.”

  “I'm not sure that I follow your suggestion,” I reply, feeling a flicker of sadness before deciding that I drag the conversation back to something a little more relevant. “Are you seriously suggesting that Catherine Lannister's ghost is... like a bear?”

  He shrugs.

  “That's certainly one way of putting it,” Doctor Carter admits. “We have moved Millicent's body. Perhaps that was unwise, one could argue that it was after all distasteful and disrespectful, but we have done it and there is no going back. I propose to use the body in an attempt to draw the ghost out and study her in greater detail.”

  “And what if she gets angry?” Josh asks.

  We both turn to him.

  “I mean,” he continues, “what if she gets really mad? I mean, she already seemed kind of pissed off last night. If we make her really angry tonight, how exactly are we able to defend ourselves?”

  “She's a ghost,” Doctor Carter replies. “I'm not sure that she has many weapons in her arsenal.”

  “It still seems like we should have a plan,” he says, and it's clear that he's suddenly backtracking a little from his earlier, cockier point of view. “We should at least be ready to run.”

  “On the contrary,” Doctor Carter says, “I should very much like the opportunity of studying a ghost when it's in the full throes of anger, so to speak. In fact, I can't think of anything that I would enjoy more. And as for defending ourselves, I'm sure that won't be necessary. Even if ghosts can see the living, they most assuredly can't harm them. That would be absurd.”

  ***

  “This is a really bad idea,” I hiss as I follow Josh along the corridor a few minutes later. “We're messing with something we don't fully understand.”

  “You heard Carter,” he replies. “We don't have time to pussy-foot around here. We have to get to the truth of whatever these ghosts can do.”

  “And you're comfortable with how we're going to do that?”

  He doesn't reply, so I grab his arm. He turns to me as we stop, and I can see the fear in his eyes.

  “Maybe she was warning us last night,” I continue.

  “Come again?”

  “Maybe, by looking at you, she was letting us know that she's aware of us.” I wait for him to admit that I might be right. “Maybe that was her way of trying to scare us off.”

  Again, he doesn't reply, but I'm more and more certain that he shares my concerns.

  “This isn't like Ghostbusters,” I point out. “We don't have weapons that fire energy at ghosts when they turn on us. We don't know what they're capable of, and Doctor Carter wants to go blundering in before he understands the risks. And if you ask me, even touching Millicent Lannister's body was a risk. If Millicent is the reason for Catherine's ghost lingering in the house, we're playing with fire.”

  “Faint hearts never won the day,” he replies, but he doesn't sound like he believes in that sentiment. Not now, at least. “Maybe Carter's right. Maybe we have to be brave.”

  “Foolhardy's the word I'd choose.”

  “Then leave,” he says. “No-one's forcing you to be here. You can walk out any time you like. Sure, Carter'll rant about you, and he'll probably black-mouth you to everyone he knows. But maybe that's a price worth paying.”

  “I can't leave,” I tell him.

  “Why not?”

  I open my mouth to explain, but for a moment the words catch in the back of my throat. I was so happy when I got selected to be on Doctor Carter's team, and I know I can't just throw the opportunity away. It's not that I want nothing to do with this project. It's more that I simply want us to slow things down a little. Why can't we just arrange to come back to Lannister Hall at a later date, to continue our work? Why do we have to cram it all into this visit?

  “It's going to be okay,” Josh says after a moment. “If things look dodgy tonight, we can all leave.”

  “You don't know that,” I tell him.

  “There are three of us, and only one of her.”

  “We don't know what she's capable of.”

  “She's a ghost,” he says
, rolling his eyes. He's clearly recovered some of his earlier bravado. “What's she gonna do? Slam doors at us until we leave?”

  “You know she might be able to do more than that.”

  “No, I don't,” he says firmly, “and neither do you. So stop spreading fear and all this other bullshit, okay? Let's get on with things. We're scientists, so let's behave like that.”

  “If she can look at you, she can do other things,” I point out.

  “Looking's one thing,” he replies, “but hurting? No, I don't believe she can do that. Not for one second.”

  He turns and walks away, but I can tell that he's rattled. He might not want to admit it, but he agrees with me and he's scared. He knows that we're getting into something we don't fully understand. Unfortunately, he's also scared of Doctor Carter, and there's no way he'll ever stand up and in the face of authority.

  Turning, I'm about to go back to my work with the sensors when my right foot bumps against something. I look down, not really expecting to see anything, but to my surprise I spot another nail on the floor. I reach down and pick it up, and for a moment I can't help but wonder whether this was always here. It's not like we've checked the place inch by inch, so I figure this is just a coincidence.

  Getting to my feet, I set the nail on a nearby table before heading back to the main hallway.

  V

  Got it!

  It might have taken me the best part of the entire day, but I've finally managed to locate the fault that caused all our sensor trouble. Just when I was seriously getting convinced that the ghost of Catherine Lannister must have been responsible, I've located a relay node that somehow managed to come unclipped. It's the kind of thing that's actually pretty easy to miss, although I feel a flicker of satisfaction as I realize that this part of the house was Josh's responsibility to set up.

  Not that I'll mention that to him or gloat in any way, of course.

  I crouch down and fix the node. It's a five second job that'll make a huge difference to our work tonight. Frankly, all day I've been feeling like something of an inconvenience, so it's good to actually make a positive contribution. As I get to my feet and head back along the corridor, I tell myself that I just need to get through the next twenty-four hours, and that everything will be okay once we're back home.