Ash (2 page)

‘Of course.’ Maseby glanced enquiringly at Kate.

She anticipated Ash’s question. ‘David is always interested in why a prospective client should choose this particular institute and not one of the equally respected organizations such as The Spiritualist Association or The College of Psychic Studies.’

‘It’s very simple,’ said Maseby, his patronizing smile beginning to irritate Ash. ‘Katie and I go way back. We met when we were students up at Oxford, she at St Hilda’s College and I at Magdalen. All the colleges hold a weekly “formal hall” – a dinner for students to which guests from other colleges are invited. At that time, St Hilda’s was an all-female establishment, so the girls there were particularly keen to welcome young men to their social evenings. That was how I met Kate, and we became firm friends – of the platonic kind, I might add.’

‘Okay. I just wondered.’ Ash looked across the desk at Kate McCarrick, who smiled back, giving nothing away. She guessed Ash suspected that she and Maseby had been lovers in the past despite her old friend’s comment to the contrary.

In fact, she and Simon had slept together only once when they were students, both quickly deciding they were not suited to a drawn-out affair. Even then, Simon was a little too much in love with himself to sustain an equal partnership.

Maseby continued to answer Ash’s question. ‘Kate and I have kept in touch over the years and I admit, while I couldn’t quite accept the strange profession she’d chosen, I’ve always had high regard for her intellect. When events that could only be described as paranormal began to occur in an establishment with which I’m associated, she was the first person I thought of turning to. Ghosts and hauntings are not something I’ve experienced before.’

Kate took over from him. ‘Simon represents a group of influential people who have an interest in a particular Scottish castle.’

Ash caught the sharp glance Maseby suddenly gave Kate so he dug deeper. ‘And who are these influential people?’

‘That really doesn’t matter at this point,’ Maseby all but snapped back. ‘All you need to know is that the castle is currently having problems that are unaccountable.’

‘Hauntings?’

‘We think so.’

Kate spoke up again; she knew David had lost none of his surface cynicism, despite the shocking experiences he’d suffered over the past few years. It was his way of testing potential clients: he never wasted time on neurotics with over-imaginative and often misguided claims of supernatural activity. ‘Comraich Castle is used as a kind of, well, a kind of sanitarium. Would you call it that, Simon?’

‘I’d prefer to say it’s a retreat.’

‘A religious retreat?’ asked Ash.

Maseby gave a sharp bark of derision. ‘No, it has nothing to do with religion, even though one of our residents was an archbishop in his better years. When his mind wasn’t so addled.’

‘It’s a mental institution?’ Ash refrained from calling it an asylum.

‘As I said, we refer to it as a retreat.’

‘But a retreat from what?’ Ash persisted.

‘From the world, Mr Ash,’ Maseby said simply. His smile this time was thin-lipped.

Maseby spoke to Kate McCarrick. ‘Perhaps from this moment on we should have Mr Ash’s assurance that whatever else we discuss this morning will not be mentioned beyond these four walls.’

‘All our cases are confidential, you know that, Simon.’

‘Mr Ash?’ There was something hard in Maseby’s stare.

Ash gave a shrug. ‘It’s fine by me. Victims of haunting often demand the utmost discretion.’

‘Kate tells me you have had a drink problem.’ It was bluntly put and, to Ash, irrelevant. He frowned at his employer, who had the grace to look apologetic.

‘Simon needs to have every confidence in you before engaging the Institute,’ she explained. ‘I’ve told him your drinking is no longer an issue.’

‘Vodka, wasn’t it?’ Maseby enquired, his face a mask of indifference. Ash knew he was probing, looking for weakness.

‘Kate’s right – I’ve given up the vodka.’

‘Then I hope there’ll be no relapse during this assignment,’ the other man said grimly. ‘I have to answer for any mistakes, so I must be sure of you.’

‘I haven’t tasted a drop of the stuff for over a year now. But I’d still like to know who it is
you
answer to.’

‘As I explained, that’s irrelevant for the moment. However, I
can
tell you that it’s an alliance of like-minded and extremely wealthy individuals. People of influence, as Kate has already informed you.’

Kate spoke. ‘So let’s move on and tell David of the strange – and terrifying – incidents that are happening at Comraich. You already know I have absolute trust in him.’

Maseby acknowledged the firmness of his old friend’s tone with a small nod of his head. ‘Well now,’ he said briskly, turning round in his seat to face Ash more easily. ‘The organization I represent owns a large but necessarily remote castle in Scotland. Its residents are only accepted on the understanding that no outsider can ever know its precise location, not even the people who have placed them there and pay their fees. I should add that those fees are extremely high, with a harsh financial penalty for betrayal of trust.’

‘Betrayal?’ Ash was surprised. It seemed a potent word to use.

‘You’ll understand after you’ve countersigned the contract drawn up between myself and Kate. The Institute would be liable should you break our agreement.’

‘It would wipe us out,’ Kate told Ash grimly.

‘Then why take it on? Why risk everything?’ Ash stared at Kate.

It was Maseby who answered him. ‘Because the reward for success would mean that the Psychical Research Institute would never be under financial pressure again.’

For a second or two, Ash was lost for words.

‘It’s true, David,’ Kate said. ‘You know our cash flow has always been borderline, but if we accept this contract and are successful we’ll be secure for a long time to come. Trust me on this.’

Ash hesitated before expressing his thoughts. ‘And if we’re not successful with this case, if we’re unable to discover the root cause of these alleged hauntings?’

His question was directed at Kate, but it was Maseby who responded. ‘You haven’t yet heard the nature of the phenomena.’

‘True. But from what you imply you could need a spiritualist rather than a research team.’

‘There’ll be no team, David,’ Kate informed him. ‘It’s just you initially; no one else will be involved at this stage.’

‘A castle will be impossible for one person to cover.’

Maseby leaned forward in his seat as if to speak conspiratorially to Ash, his voice almost hushed. ‘Unfortunately, the more outsiders invited there, the higher the risk of exposure. Comraich Castle is intentionally private and I reaffirm, even its location must remain secret. Strangers are never allowed inside the grounds, not even tradesmen.’

Ash was perplexed. ‘How can you keep that kind of landmark secret? How about the locals – they must be aware of its existence?’

‘Oh, they know Comraich is there all right, but they have no idea of its purpose. We encourage them to believe it’s been turned into a private and very expensive health spa. In some ways it is just that. As for tradesmen and deliveries of any kind, there is a dropping-off point at the estate’s boundary. Mr Ash, once you’re there, you’ll appreciate its need for secrecy.’

The parapsychologist shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Absent-mindedly, he fingered the short scar on his cheek.

‘David, again, you must trust me,’ Kate urged. ‘I chose you because you’ve always worked best alone.’
And you also have some psychic ability, even though you won’t admit it to yourself
, she thought. ‘Let’s not be modest, you are the Institute’s leading, as well as the most experienced, investigator.’

‘But I can’t handle the latest technology on my own. Monitors, cameras, capacity-change recorders, anemometers, ventimeters, air meters, CCTV – the list goes on and—’

‘We already have a closed-circuit television facility,’ Maseby interrupted, ‘and, of course, a monitoring area with full-time security observation.’

‘Besides, David, yours will only be a preliminary investigation,’ added Kate.

‘But a castle? There have got to be so many rooms, corridors, underground chambers, halls and passageways, not to mention
secret
passageways. I can’t cover them all.’

‘That isn’t being asked of you, Mr Ash. First we need to establish if Comraich is – and as a sceptic myself, it’s difficult for me to say this – truly being haunted, and that whatever’s happening is not just some weird but accountable phenomena. No doubt you remember in 2008 when there were twenty or more suicides of young people, all around the area of Bridgend in Wales within weeks of each other. Nobody has explained the catalyst for such tragic self-inflicted deaths. I’ve also heard that one schoolgirl fainting can cause others around them to faint.’

Ash frowned. ‘If you think there’s a kind of collective hysteria among your castle residents, then maybe it’s not a parapsychologist you need, but a psychologist.’

‘We already have one and she is as perplexed as everybody else. If we can agree to the terms of the contract, you’ll meet her on the plane tomorrow.’

‘I’d have to fly to Scotland? I could easily drive or take the train.’

Maseby shook his head. ‘You’ll go by jet from London City Airport. It isn’t a long journey, an hour or so. You’ll join Dr Wyatt, our resident psychologist, who is accompanying a new client to Comraich. Interestingly, Dr Wyatt practised psychiatry before psychology, the former being how she gained her MD.’

Ash was unwilling to debate the point. ‘So you have two for the price of one.’

‘No, no. We also have a resident psychiatrist at Comraich. A Dr Singh.’

‘The people you represent
must
be wealthy, especially if they have their own jet.’

‘I thought I’d made that clear.’

‘Freemasons?’ It was a wild guess that was met with disdain. The next guess was even wilder. ‘The Illuminati?’

‘No,’ Maseby said brusquely, ignoring the investigator’s deliberate facetiousness. ‘You’ll receive more information when it’s considered necessary. And of course, the first thing you must do is sign both the confidentiality agreement and the contract between the Institute and Maseby Associates on behalf of Comraich Castle.’

‘You didn’t mention there were two contracts.’

‘Yes, the Institute’s and also your own personal agreement.’

Kate intervened. ‘I think it’s time you told David exactly what has happened at Comraich so far. Then he can either accept the assignment or walk away. Agreed? David, if you decline, you can never tell anyone of this meeting.’

‘We hope you will come on board, Mr Ash.’

Mystified but intrigued, Ash nodded in acquiescence and Kate breathed a sigh of relief. Despite her recommendation to Maseby, she hadn’t been sure that David Ash had truly recovered his nerve.

Maseby now shifted his chair so that he could look straight into Ash’s eyes without the discomfort of twisting his body.

‘Apparently it started a couple of months ago,’ he began, ‘around the end of July or beginning of August, or so I’m told. One of my duties is to visit Comraich Castle at certain intervals just to see how it’s running, to note any problems, sometimes to accompany new clients, get them settled in – that sort of thing. Problems are generally minor, but with others I need to spend a week or so up there.’

Kate leaned back in her seat, her eyes flitting between Ash and Maseby, but mostly her attention staying with the former; having already heard Maseby’s account, she was now interested in Ash’s reaction to it.

Maseby continued. ‘It was after supper, late enough for the castle lights to be switched on. As was customary, many of our guests had gathered in one of the larger rooms used as a lounge area, where they could relax with a coffee, or brandy. It’s all part of the service. There was nothing amiss, and although it was summer, a fire had been lit in the room’s big open hearth. In a place as huge as Comraich, with stonework and wooden beams dating back to the fourteenth century, there are always draughts coming from somewhere. I think there were twenty or thirty guests and staff in the room at that time and everything appeared normal enough, but some of the residents started complaining about the chill that had set in.

‘The staff were perplexed. Despite the roaring fire and heat from the radiators, which are always left on whatever the season, the place really was cold and becoming colder by the minute – and it was still summertime, remember. In fact, everybody there could see the vapour of their own breath, that’s how cold it was. Then all the lights slowly began to dim; apparently it was the same in every hall and passageway where there were ceiling and wall lights. Soon, the castle was almost in darkness.’

‘Do you have a back-up generator for when the power supply from the main grid goes down?’ Ash enquired.

‘There are more than one, in fact, for different areas of the castle, and they’re always set to kick in automatically whenever there’s a power failure.’

‘Then maybe you need a qualified electrician.’

‘David . . .’ Kate warned.

Maseby smiled coldly. ‘Besides a psychologist, we have top-rated electricians
and
engineers at our disposal. We also have a doctor, two general surgeons – specialist surgeons can always be flown in – several nurses, both male and female, an estate general manager and several wardens . . . I could go on, but is it necessary?’

Ash shook his head.

‘In any case, an electrician wasn’t required. In a matter of moments, the lights came back on.’

‘And the heating?’

‘Yes, everything was normal again.’

‘You said the room also had a fireplace as well as hot radiators. What happened to the fire?’

‘Ah. The fire itself somehow lost its heat; the flames died even though it was stacked with burning logs and coal. It still shimmered, but gave out no heat. When the lights returned, so did the flames. It was very disconcerting for everyone, both clients and resident staff. But worse for the clients in the special unit below.’