𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧┃ Anthony Lockwood┃3┃

Chapter Six - Cemetery Confessions

If Lockwood & Co had been largely unmoved by Mr Tufnell – his combination of sleazy theatrical bombast and slippery evasion wasn't wildly attractive – the evident plight of Charley Budd affected them all. According to Lockwood, who knew such things, it was a rare example of psychic enchainment, in which the victim's mind was snared.

"It's like ghost-lock." He said. "But it's not the body that's been trapped this time, it's the intelligence. The will to live just seeps away and the victim is pulled towards death. Tufnell's right – destroying the ghost is probably the only way to sever the connection."

"Poor boy." Holly was tidying up the mess left in the hall. "How awful to want to do that to himself."

"And did you see his blank, expressionless face?" George added. "Eerie."

"His eyes were empty." Nola said. "When I fought him, there was nothing there."

"Well, it's clearly a formidable spirit that's snared him." Lockwood said. "There's no way I'm facing it until we're properly prepared. Can you look into the story when you're at the Archives, George? I'll order more equipment for tomorrow. We left half our stuff in the mausoleum."

"Lots to do." George said. "Marissa, the Problem and La Belle Dame Sans Merci. I'd better get going. But first, I want to show you the stuff I found in your parents' crates, Lockwood. Mind if I quickly do that now?"

The others followed him upstairs to the first floor. It was a place where the representatives of DEPRAC, checking on their activities in the basement office, never thought to venture. Which was lucky for them, because it contained a dark and terrible wonderland, filled with things that threatened one's health and sanity, and we're not just talking about George's bedroom. There was another room that had once belonged to Lockwood's sister, Jessica – the room she'd died in. There her death-glow still hovered, dramatically but harmlessly, above the stripped-back bed, while stacks of crates lined the walls, each stamped with faded export permits from foreign lands. And set out on the one clear area of floor, surrounded by a circle of iron chains, were selected items from those crates: items strange, dangerous and forbidden.

There were masks fashioned in the shape of wild animals and monstrous spirits. There were two newly discovered cloaks, one covered in feathers and one in moulting fur. There were peculiar constructions of bone, beads and animal gut, which Lockwood said were Javanese ghost-catchers. And there were pots sealed with lead and wax. These, in particular, the agents treated with extreme caution. It was in breaking one of these that Jessica Lockwood had lost her life seven years before.

It was quite a haul. The tweedy, placard-waving ghost-cultists who paraded through Trafalgar Square most days would have fallen on their knees before the items on display. Fittes researchers would have sold their grandmothers to have seen them. Rich collectors would have fought each other for them tooth and nail, while relic men would have cut throats for them. Inspector Barnes of DEPRAC would simply have arrested the agents and confiscated the lot. So, they took care to ensure that the collection remained secret, known to nobody except them, Kipps and Flo.

The group stood at the door, looking in. George indicated a row of dusty-looking green-glass bottles set out inside the chains. "These are what I found yesterday." He said. "Spirit-bottles to trap annoying or unwelcome ancestors. The old shaman would pop a Source inside – it was generally a bit of bone – seal it up, and – presto! – the ghost's contained. The interior is lined with iron, of course, to stop them getting out."

Lockwood nodded. "Same sort of thing as the skull's jar, then?"

"Pretty much." George said. "Only, these are superior in a way, because you don't get the horrid visuals. You know, I'm beginning to think that everything your parents brought back has some kind of psychic significance, Lockwood. Even the stuff hanging up downstairs. They were very good researchers. I think I would have liked them."