For Better or Murder
Author: Simon R. Green
Date: 2026-05-05 07:00:00+00:00
Description: It’s wedding season with a spooky twist! The Holy Terrors are trying to tie the knot while solving a ghostly murder in the latest witty, creeptastic paranormal mystery fromNew York Times bestselling British fantasy author Simon R. Green. There are those who say seagulls cry over the sins of mankind. And that if we could only get our act together, they could stop crying … Holy Terrors dream team—actress Diana Hunt and her partner in crime (solving) young bishop Alistair Kincaid—are getting married! The plan is to hold a small ceremony with just some family and friends at a charming and secluded
Publisher: Severn House

Contents

Cover

Also by Simon R. Green

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for the Holy Terrors Mysteries

About the Author

Chapter One: The Pale Rider

Chapter Two: Making An Impression

Chapter Three: Is There Anybody There?

Chapter Four: First The Show, Then The Storm. Then The Murder.

Chapter Five: Looking For Answers In The Darkest Places

Chapter Six: Holding Hands In The Dark

Chapter Seven: Answers And Endings

Chapter Eight: Something Old, Something New

Also by Simon R. Green

The Holy Terrors Mysteries

THE HOLY TERRORS *

STONE CERTAINTY *

WHICH WITCH? *

The Gideon Sable Series

THE BEST THING YOU CAN STEAL *

A MATTER OF DEATH AND LIFE *

WHAT SONG THE SIRENS SANG *

NOT OF THIS WORLD *

WHERE IS ANYBODY? *

The Ishmael Jones Mysteries

THE DARK SIDE OF THE ROAD *

DEAD MAN WALKING

VERY IMPORTANT CORPSES

DEATH SHALL COME

INTO THE THINNEST OF AIR

MURDER IN THE DARK *

TILL SUDDEN DEATH DO US PART *

NIGHT TRAIN TO MURDER *

THE HOUSE ON WIDOWS HILL *

BURIED MEMORIES *

HAUNTED BY THE PAST

And the Deathstalker, Nightside, Secret History,

Hawk and Fisher and Forest Kingdom Series

* available from Severn House

FOR BETTER OR MURDER

Simon R. Green

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

First world edition published in Great Britain and the USA in 2026
by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,

14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.

This eBook edition first published in 2026 by Severn House,
an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.

severnhouse.com

Copyright © Simon R. Green, 2026

Cover and jacket design by Nick May at bluegecko22.com

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Simon R. Green to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1750-9 (cased)

ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1954-1 (paper)

ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1751-6 (e-book)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

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Praise for the Holy Terrors Mysteries

‘Theater lore, plenty of suspects, and a soupçon of witchy activity add up to a delightful puzzle’

Kirkus Reviews on Which Witch?

‘Charming sleuths and bubbly dialogue add up to an appealing whodunit. A spirited cozy with a supernatural twist’

Kirkus Reviews on Stone Certainty

‘Fans of Green’s Ishmael Jones mysteries will appreciate the supernatural elements’

Library Journal on Stone Certainty

‘Genuinely frightening. The resolution to the mystery is satisfying, no matter the reader’s philosophical bent (skeptics and true believers will be equally happy). Another winner from this highly talented storyteller’

Booklist on Stone Certainty

‘Perceptive and witty … Great fun’

Booklist on The Holy Terrors

‘A sleek and appealing … homage to vintage whodunnits’

Kirkus Reviews on The Holy Terrors

About the author

Simon R. Green was born in Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire, where he still lives. He is the New York Times bestselling author of more than eighty science fiction, fantasy and mystery novels which have sold over four million copies worldwide, including the Nightside, Secret Histories and Ghost Finders series, the Ishmael Jones Mysteries, the Gideon Sable series and the Holy Terrors mystery series.

‘How do you solve a murder?’ said the Actress to the Bishop.

‘By paying attention to the smallest details,’ said the Bishop.

‘And by understanding all the mysteries of the human heart,’ said the Actress.

The Bishop smiled at her. ‘Well, that goes without saying.’

Alistair Kincaid is currently the youngest bishop ever appointed, to one of the most dangerous areas in London: All Souls Hollow. He has also, much to his surprise, become the acceptable face of Christianity on morning television.

Diana Hunt is a jobbing actress who has appeared in everything from Macbeth to Miss Marple, and knows all there is to know about pretending to be someone you’re not. She can also spot a hidden motivation and a faked emotion at twenty paces.

Together, they solve mysteries and catch murderers. Their first success took place in a blaze of publicity, and as a result the tabloids dubbed them the Holy Terrors and can’t get enough of them.

But now the Actress and the Bishop are getting married, they are determined to have a very private wedding in as remote a setting as possible.

What could possibly go wrong?

ONE

The Pale Rider

In the depths, and some would say the wilds, of Cornwall, a small hotel stood alone and far from anywhere, high atop a cliff overlooking the dark ocean waves as they slammed against the jagged rocks below. The Pale Rider hotel stood firm against the elements, holding secrets within and guarding legends.

Alistair Kincaid and Diana Hunt stood together in the car park outside the hotel. It was early in the evening, but the last of the day was already seriously overcast with grim and threatening clouds. A gusting wind swept around the two of them, tugging at their clothes and ruffling their hair. Diana shivered, and Alistair put an arm around her. She leaned against him.

‘There’s a storm on the way,’ she said darkly.

‘Just what we need, to provide a suitably dramatic background for our wedding,’ said Alistair.

A good-looking man in his late twenties, Alistair’s rimless glasses helped take the edge off what some commentators had been calling his classical good looks, ever since he found a kind of celebrity on morning television. Spreading the good word from the regulation sofa, in an easy and unthreatening way. It helped that he really did believe what he was saying. He wore his dark suit and dog collar as a kind of armour, to keep an intrusive world at a distance. His smile was warm, his eyes were kind, and behind them lay a first-class mind.

Diana was a tall and well-made actress in her early thirties, with a face covered in so much make-up it almost had a personality of its own. Diana was a great believer in making a strong first impression, and as a result had so much sheer presence it practically walked ahead of her, banging loudly on a drum and setting off fireworks. Which was just the way she liked it. She was currently wearing a heavy shawl over a designer dress, and wishing she’d chosen something warmer. The wind kept blowing her long dark hair about her face, but she still managed a smile for Alistair.

‘Desolate-looking spot, isn’t it?’

‘We wanted somewhere that wasn’t just romantic, but completely cut off from the rest of the world,’ said Alistair. ‘Anything less, and the media’s spies and informers would be bound to dog our heels and run us to ground.’

‘They believe they invented the Holy Terrors,’ said Diana, ‘so they think we belong to them. A private wedding will be a good way to remind them of our independence.’

‘Even if we had to go to the ends of the earth to find it,’ said Alistair.

Diana nodded at the hotel before them. ‘I’ve graced flashier and more expensive venues in my time, but I think this will serve our purpose nicely. It’s so off the beaten track you can’t even see the track from here. And it definitely has character.’

‘That’s not always a good thing,’ said Alistair.

Diana looked at him sharply. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Alistair.

The Pale Rider hotel stared calmly back at them, doing its best to appear suitably old-fashioned and traditional, in a determined sort of way. Three stories, under a slanting grey-slate roof, with a creamy white stone exterior, black timber supports on the upper floor in the Tudor manner and, here and there, the odd patch of carefully trimmed ivy. The Pale Rider was going all out to seem interesting and inviting, but Alistair and Diana had a lot of experience when it came to taking the measure of things that weren’t necessarily what they appeared to be. Which was why they were still standing around in the cold open space of the car park, trying to decide whether they might have made a mistake after all.

Alistair frowned despite himself. The Pale Rider’s warm and welcoming exterior was starting to feel like the smile on the face of the tiger.

‘It doesn’t look the way I thought it would,’ he said slowly. ‘There’s something … different about it. I mean, compared to the photos we saw on the website.’

‘Well, photos …’ Diana said dismissively. ‘They’re always going to be carefully chosen, to put their best foot forward.’

‘But how do you feel about the hotel, right now?’ said Alistair.

Diana studied the Pale Rider for a long moment, and then chose her words carefully.

‘Sometimes a pretty face is just a come-on. An invitation to the dance, but nothing guaranteed.’

Alistair smiled at her. ‘You should know.’

‘We wanted somewhere different and distant,’ Diana said firmly. ‘And that’s exactly what we’ve got.’

Alistair nodded slowly. ‘It’s probably nothing more than pre-wedding nerves. I just want everything to be perfect.’

‘I’ll settle for happy ever after,’ said Diana.

They grinned at each other. Ever since the tabloids first found out about the Bishop and the Actress’s gift for solving mysteries and gleefully dubbed the pair the Holy Terrors, they’d been desperate for new stories about the phenomenon they’d created. When the various editors learned Alistair and Diana were planning to get married, they almost went to war with each other over who was going to get exclusive rights to cover the ceremony.

So to make sure that everyone from the media was very definitely excluded, Alistair and Diana had been forced to cut the number of guests to a minimum. People who could be trusted to keep the wedding’s details to themselves. After a certain amount of mutual horse-trading, the guest list contained only Diana’s parents, the best man and the bridesmaid, and Alistair’s old university tutor and long-time friend the Canon Crispin Browne, who had agreed to marry them.

Diana resolutely turned her attention away from the hotel and made herself concentrate on the scenery. Beyond the Pale Rider, the wide, open moorland stretched far, far away, wild and empty, splashed with purple heather, and only occasionally interrupted by the odd stunted shrub. Tall grasses bent and waved in the gusting wind and what bare patches of open ground there were looked hard-packed and uninviting. There were no obvious paths, and no signs of human influence for as far as the eye could see – apart from the single narrow road that led from the hotel to the town, bounded on both sides by low drystone walls, with not a single lamp to light the way. Diana had an uneasy feeling that it could get very dark around the Pale Rider, once night fell.

She looked in the opposite direction, to where a beaten-earth path meandered away from the car park in search of the cliff. She patted Alistair’s arm to get his attention and indicated the path with her head. He offered her his arm, she accepted it gravely, and they set off along the path. It didn’t take them long to reach the crumbling cliff face. Diana made a point of standing as close to the edge as she could get, to show she wasn’t impressed by anything, while Alistair stood right beside her, because that was where he belonged.

‘No need to hold my arm quite that tightly, darling,’ Diana said cheerfully. ‘The wind isn’t nearly strong enough to throw us over the edge.’

‘It’s trying hard enough,’ said Alistair. ‘And I didn’t wait all these years to find you, just to risk losing you at the last moment.’

Diana had to smile. ‘You always know the right thing to say, Bish.’

Alistair smiled briefly. ‘You’ve clearly never had to sit through one of my sermons.’

‘Maybe I should introduce you to some of my writers,’ said Diana.

They looked carefully down at the long drop, studying the jagged cliff face as it fell sloping away to the sea. There were cracks and crevices, ledges and outcroppings, and more than a few dark cave openings. The cliff looked as though it had been through a war and was still trying to decide whether or not it had been worth it.

‘Those caves must have proved very useful to the old-time smugglers,’ Alistair said knowledgably. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if they had ways of transferring their goods right to the moor.’

Diana nodded absently, fascinated by the towering waves as they pounded stubbornly against the jagged rocks dominating the shoreline. They stood firm, like so many dark guardians, not giving an inch to the never-ending assault. The air was full of spray and foam and the constant thunder of the tides.

‘I’m amazed the smugglers were ever able to land their boats down there,’ Diana said finally.

‘There must be quiet spots somewhere,’ Alistair said vaguely. ‘Listen to those waves, crashing forever against the rocks. I wonder if we’ll be able to hear them, inside the hotel? It would be nice, to fall asleep to such a pleasant sound.’

‘You in your room, and me in mine?’ said Diana.

‘That is what we booked,’ said Alistair. ‘You know I’m very old-fashioned when it comes to some things.’

‘I know,’ said Diana. ‘It’s all part of your charm. But once we get to the wedding night, I will jump your bones till they creak.’

And then she laughed out loud, to see him blush a little.

A handful of gulls swept back and forth in the grey sky, dancing on the wind and keening loudly. Glad of the distraction, Alistair fixed his gaze on them.

‘There are those who say seagulls cry over the sins of mankind. And that if we could only get our act together, they could stop crying.’

‘Trust you to know a legend with an improving moral,’ said Diana.

‘All part of the job,’ said Alistair. ‘Though I would have said inspiring, rather than improving.’

‘Of course you would,’ said Diana. She looked out at the sea and nodded firmly. ‘This is a very romantic setting. I like it here. You made a good call when you chose this place, Bish.’

‘After you voted down all my other choices,’ said Alistair.

Diana gave him a hard look. ‘I had no interest at all in combining our wedding with any of your other interests. Like tombstone rubbings, ghost walks, or cathedral architecture.’

‘Just as I have no interest in who’s been cast in what, who slept with who to get a certain part, and which well-known personality has had so much work done they have to cross their legs before they can gain enough slack to try for a smile,’ said Alistair.

‘It’s a good thing we have so much in common,’ said Diana.

‘We both love a mystery,’ said Alistair.

‘This is true,’ said Diana. ‘Though they often seem to pursue us, rather than the other way round. Shall we go back to the hotel?’

‘It is getting just a touch breezy,’ said Alistair, as a sudden blast of wind did its best to force both of them over the cliff edge.

They stopped in the car park again, to study the hotel’s carefully managed exterior, trying to work out exactly what it was about the place that was ringing alarm bells for both of them. For Alistair, it was like looking in the face of someone he wasn’t sure he wanted to do business with. Diana smiled suddenly.

‘This place reminds me of the old mansion houses I used to see on all those paperback Gothic romances I devoured as a teenager.’

‘With a light shining from one window,’ said Alistair. ‘And the heroine running for her life in a billowing nightie.’

‘You read them too?’ Diana said happily.

‘I might have glanced at one or two, in passing,’ said Alistair.

Diana gave him a knowing look and then glared round the empty car park.

‘I can’t believe we’re the first to arrive. My parents promised me they’d get here in advance, so they could make sure all the arrangements had been properly sorted out. But that’s Mummy and Daddy for you, never happy unless they’re fashionably late so they can make a grand entrance.’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting them,’ said Alistair.

‘That’s only because you don’t know them,’ said Diana.

Alistair looked at her. ‘Is there something about Daddy and Mummy dearest that you haven’t been meaning to tell me?’

‘Parents can be so embarrassing,’ said Diana. And then she stopped and put a hand on his chest as she looked at him. ‘I’m so sorry your parents can’t be here.’

Alistair nodded slowly. ‘They would have been very proud, to see who I was marrying.’

‘Was losing your parents at such an early age what led you to the Church?’ said Diana.

‘I didn’t lose them,’ said Alistair. ‘They were taken from me by a drunk driver. And yes, I suppose it’s possible that I found a new family in the Church.’

‘Were there never any foster parents?’ Diana said carefully.

‘I was twelve when my parents died,’ said Alistair. ‘Foster parents nearly always want someone younger. And there’s no denying I was … difficult, back then. Always getting into some kind of trouble.’

‘Bish!’ Diana said delightedly. ‘Are you telling me you were a bad boy?’

‘I was definitely heading in that direction,’ said Alistair. ‘But the Church saved me. They turned me around, and helped make me the man I am. As a result, I have chosen to look forward rather than back, and right now I am giving all my attention to the life we’re going to make together. Nothing else matters.’

‘I have no problem with that,’ said Diana. ‘But there is definitely something off about this hotel … I think what bugs me most is the sign. I mean, look at it. There is something seriously wrong with that image. It’s not exactly welcoming, is it?’

Hanging over the main door, and looking very much like something that had been salvaged from an old pub, the heavy sign swung lazily back and forth as the wind slapped it around. An expertly painted image showed the skeleton of a human figure, hunched forward as it rode a skeleton horse across the moor, under a full moon. The pale bones seemed almost to glow against the dark setting.

‘A very pale rider …’ said Alistair.

Diana sighed heavily. ‘It seems like everywhere we go, something spooky is lying in wait for us. I was sort of hoping that now we’re getting married, we could leave all the murders and the weird stuff behind us and retire into normal lives. I’m getting really tired of having people drop dead around us.’

‘These days I’m just glad if they make it through lunch,’ said Alistair. ‘I thought you enjoyed solving mysteries?’

‘You know I do,’ said Diana. ‘But our winning streak can’t last forever, and I have to wonder what will happen if we run into a mystery we can’t solve?’

‘We do our best,’ said Alistair. ‘That’s all God ever asks of us.’

Diana gave him a hard look. ‘Do you have to bring God into everything?’

‘Well,’ said Alistair, ‘that is sort of my job.’

They smiled, and looked back at the hanging sign.

‘There’s something wrong, about the Rider,’ Diana said finally. ‘As though there might be something more than human to it. And that skeletal grin strikes me as more than usually mocking. As though the Rider knows something we don’t.’

‘There does seem to be a definite sense of purpose in the painting,’ said Alistair. ‘As though the Rider is racing toward somewhere in particular, with something unpleasant on his mind.’

‘That is not a welcoming sign,’ Diana said flatly. ‘Nothing to invite the passing traveller to try his luck and venture in. Why couldn’t the hotel management have gone with something more cheerful?’

‘It’s an intriguing image,’ said Alistair. ‘No doubt intended to appeal to those interested in the local legends. And anyone who made it this far off the beaten track isn’t going to be put off by a spooky scene on a sign.’

‘They do not sound like the kind of guest I’d want to share a hotel with,’ Diana said darkly. ‘I mean, come on, Bish – that thing is seriously spooky.’

‘It’s just a painting,’ said Alistair.

‘At first, I thought the skeleton was supposed to represent Death,’ Diana said slowly. ‘But now I think it looks more like some kind of demon, summoned out of Hell to chase after erring souls and drag them down to their damnation.’

‘Why does your imagination always go straight to the worst-case scenario?’ said Alistair.

‘Years of experience,’ said Diana.

Alistair put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and Diana snuggled up against him.

‘I’m just letting it get to me, aren’t I?’ she said into his chest.

‘It’s only a local legend,’ said Alistair. ‘Something left over from the old smuggling days. The hotel management were quite clear about that on their website. The smugglers came up with the idea of the Pale Rider, a ghostly figure who would ride the moor on certain nights, that it was death and worse to see. A coded message to all the townspeople. Stay off the moors: we’re smuggling. If you see something in the night, it wasn’t us, it was the Pale Rider. Or at least, that’s what you tell the authorities.’

‘And that actually worked?’ said Diana.

Alistair shrugged. ‘I’m sure most people knew the truth, but it allowed everyone involved to save face, and gave the revenue men a reason for never actually catching anyone. Back in those days, smuggling was one of those crimes no one thought was really wrong … apart from the authorities. Smugglers could be heroes, as long as they were careful to share their booty with the locals. But somewhere along the line, the Pale Rider became a legend in its own right. People swore they saw the skeletal figure riding its bony horse across the moor on nights when the smugglers swore they weren’t out and about. I suppose if enough people believe in a thing, it can become a thing.’

Diana smiled sweetly. ‘Isn’t that how most religions start?’

‘Faith is about believing in the good things as well as the bad,’ said Alistair.

Diana shivered suddenly as the wind surged around them.

‘We’re a long way from London, Bish.’

‘You agreed we needed to get as far away as possible,’ said Alistair. ‘And we couldn’t go much further without falling off the end of Cornwall.’

Diana nodded reluctantly. ‘We couldn’t let the media have their way on this. They were already bidding each other into a feeding frenzy over who would end up with exclusive rights to the ceremony. And I wasn’t having that. I mean, yes, the money being offered was really impressive, but whoever finally won would have insisted on taking complete control over the wedding: where it would take place, how big it should be, and how many minor celebrities they could shoehorn into our wedding photos. We’d never have had a moment to ourselves. And it would only have infuriated the editors who lost out. They would have turned on us with a vengeance.’

‘Would that have been such a bad thing?’ said Alistair. ‘To be in a position where we could be sure the tabloids would ignore us? I think I could learn to live with that.’

‘No, darling,’ Diana said patiently, ‘that’s not how the media game works. They would have started printing really nasty things about us, to put us in our place, and you can bet people would have believed every bit of rumour, gossip, and downright lie the editors came up with. Their readership loves to see people get built up, but they really get off on seeing them crash and burn. Besides, I’ll probably need those editors someday. If only to spread the good word that I’m still around and available for work. Never bite the hand that feeds your career … Once word gets out that we’ve got married, and there’s no ceremony to cover, that should take the edge off.’

‘Fine by me,’ said Alistair.

‘I am all in favour of publicity,’ Diana said judiciously. ‘It gets me work. But if there’s going to be a story, I want to be the one in charge, so I can make sure it’s good for me, and not just the papers.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘It’s easy enough to get editors on your side, if you know how to play them. Once they’ve had time to calm down a little, I’ll just offer them some new scandal from my past, some shocking tittle-tattle about an old friend … and perhaps a tasteful nude shoot connecting me to some good cause, that they can splash all over their front pages … And then it’ll all be sweetness and light between us again. Until the next time.’

‘Sometimes,’ said Alistair. ‘I have to wonder who’s using who.’

‘Darling,’ said Diana, ‘it’s an entirely symbiotic relationship.’

They turned their attention back to the hotel, because they still felt they were missing something. Alistair couldn’t help feeling that the windows were staring back at him, like so many watchful eyes. He felt a sudden impulse to say he’d changed his mind and they should go somewhere else, but he couldn’t. The arrangements had all been made, the guests were on their way, and it wasn’t like he could even offer Diana a good reason. She would be bound to ask him if he was getting cold feet, and Alistair was damned if he’d do anything to upset her.

‘Is there a reason why we’re still standing around here in the cold,’ Diana said pointedly. ‘Instead of venturing inside, where it is hopefully warm and comfortable and there are drinks to be had?’

‘I thought you were enjoying the romantic atmosphere?’ Alistair said lightly.

‘I never thought I’d say it, but it is possible to have too much of a good thing,’ said Diana. ‘How did you find this place?’

‘It was recommended by my best man,’ said Alistair. ‘Giles Mason. We were very close chums, back when we started out at the seminary together …’

Diana frowned. ‘You never mentioned him to me before this.’

‘We drifted apart,’ said Alistair, with a these-things-happen shrug. ‘I hadn’t spoken to him in years … But we always swore we’d be best man at each other’s wedding, and he didn’t let me down.’

‘Bish,’ Diana said carefully, ‘are you saying there wasn’t anybody else?’

Alistair shrugged uncomfortably. ‘It’s hard to make really close friends, in my line of work. The dog collar gets in the way. But then, I knew it was a solitary job when I took it.’ He forced a smile. ‘Giles came across this place online and sent me the details. The Pale Rider specialises in weddings, and even comes with its own attached chapel. So we can keep the whole affair under our control. That should keep the news from getting out until it’s too late.’

‘And since I’ve booked every room in the hotel, there won’t be any other guests, apart from the people we’ve invited,’ said Diana. ‘No one to give us away to the media!’

Alistair looked at her. ‘I still say you should have consulted me on that first. It must have cost you a fortune …’

‘You really mustn’t worry about such things, darling!’ said Diana. ‘After my successful run as Lady Macbeth in the West End, I am loaded.’

‘I thought that year would never end,’ said Alistair.

‘Why would you want it to?’ said Diana. ‘Surely, you didn’t begrudge me my success?’

‘I just wanted us to get married,’ said Alistair.

Diana threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

‘You’ve been very patient, darling. I’m so proud of you. But now the play is over, and I am all yours! So stop worrying about the cost!’

‘I think I could live with being a kept man,’ Alistair said solemnly.

And then he stopped abruptly and frowned. Diana sighed, let go of him, and stepped back.

‘What’s wrong now?’

‘I was just wondering,’ Alistair said slowly. ‘You must have made that mass booking at pretty short notice, so how come all the other rooms were empty and available?’

‘It’s the off-season,’ Diana said patiently. ‘The management were so pleased to have a fully booked hotel, after all, they did everything but bite my hand off taking the money. Mind you, it wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out that a few of the rooms were already booked and the people involved were quickly persuaded or bribed to shift their bookings to another date.’

‘I hate to think we might have inconvenienced anyone,’ said Alistair.

‘Yes, well, that’s you, darling,’ Diana said briskly. ‘If they knew who they were helping out, I like to think they would have volunteered.’

They both looked round sharply, as a vintage Rolls Royce silver Phantom came speeding down the road toward the hotel. It took the last corner on two wheels and shot into the hotel’s car park like a silver-grey bullet. It ground to a halt in a spray of gravel and rocked a little as it settled, like a racehorse that had just crossed the finishing line. Alistair grinned.

‘It’s the Canon!’

‘The one who’s agreed to marry us?’ said Diana.

‘The one and only Canon Crispin Browne,’ said Alistair. ‘Academic, antiquary, man of faith and senior lecturer in Religious Studies at Cambridge.’

‘That last bit must keep him busy,’ said Diana.

‘Do try and keep your mind out of the gutter,’ said Alistair. ‘Crispin is a very well-respected scholar. He was my tutor when I was just starting out. An excellent fellow and a first-class mind.’

‘How does a Cambridge don end up driving a valuable vintage car like that?’ said Diana.

‘He won it in a card game,’ said Alistair.

‘Of course,’ said Diana. ‘He’s your friend …’

The Canon levered himself out of the Phantom, paused to stretch slowly and painfully, and then came striding across the car park to join them. A fey and elegant soul who was clearly well into his seventies, Crispin had swept-back silver hair, a cheery smile, and the smartest of tweed suits. He grabbed Alistair’s outstretched hand in both of his and shook it heartily. Alistair pulled the Canon in for a hug and clapped him on the back, and then both men stepped back and grinned at each other.

‘Diana, darling,’ said Alistair, ‘allow me to present to you my old friend. And Crispin, this is my bride-to-be, Diana Hunt.’

The Canon turned a warm smile and a pair of sparkling eyes on Diana, but as an actress she was used to dealing with charm and didn’t trust it for a moment. Crispin greeted her happily, shook her hand firmly, and then kissed her on both cheeks. Diana smiled regally, stood her ground, and let him do it. Crispin smiled at Alistair, looked at the hotel, and then rubbed his hands together briskly.

‘Delighted to be here, delighted! Terrible drive, appalling traffic, but some wonderful views along the way. And smell that sea air, my children! So bracing you could strike a match off it. And this is the infamous Diana Hunt! I must say I approve of your choice, Alistair – a magnificent young lady with a wonderfully wicked reputation.’ His smile widened as he turned it on Diana. ‘And you, my dear, have struck pure gold in your choice of a husband. Not quite the saint he likes to make out, but then most saints were pretty unbearable if you read between the lines.’ He stopped, to look around the empty car park. ‘I made such good progress I was sure I’d be the first to arrive. How were you able to beat me here?’

‘Several trains and a taxi, and a whole lot of careful advance planning,’ said Alistair.

‘Because no one wants to be late to their own wedding,’ said Diana.

Crispin shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Now then, what’s the hotel like?’

‘We haven’t actually gone inside yet,’ said Alistair.

‘We’ve been soaking up the atmosphere,’ said Diana.

‘I’m sure that’s all very romantic,’ said Crispin. ‘But there’s nothing to beat a good bar. Come along, let us enter in and partake, my children. The Canon is in the chair, and he’s got his drinking boots on!’

‘Never knew you when you didn’t,’ said Alistair.

The Canon laughed cheerfully, took them both by the arm, and urged them forward. Despite herself, Diana found herself warming to the man.

The hotel lobby turned out to be a pleasant enough setting: all polished wooden surfaces and well-preserved furniture and fittings, comfortably old rather than antique, and very definitely designed with function rather than style in mind. A handful of stuffed deer heads stared reproachfully down from the walls, interrupted here and there by pleasant if somewhat insipid prints of the local moorlands. The wooden floor had been waxed and polished to within an inch of its life and made pleasant creaking noises as they approached the very modern-looking reception desk at the back of the lobby. Standing behind the desk were a middle-aged couple, both of whom made a point of smiling with professional thoroughness at their celebrity guests.

‘Bishop Kincaid!’ said the man. ‘And Diana Hunt! We are honoured!’

‘Welcome, welcome!’ said the woman.

‘We are Norman and Alice Makepeace,’ said the man.

‘Owners and managers of the Pale Rider hotel,’ said the woman.

‘It’s so good to see you at last,’ said Norman. ‘We were becoming just a little concerned, given the lateness of the hour …’

‘But we never had any doubt that you would eventually grace us with your presence,’ Alice said firmly.

Norman beamed brightly at Alistair and Diana. ‘My wife and I recognised you the moment you stepped through the door. We’ve seen you on television. Such a thrill for us, that the Holy Terrors would choose to get married in our little establishment!’

‘Let me know if he bothers you for autographs, and I’ll hit him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper,’ said Alice.

‘Oh you,’ said Norman.

They took a moment to smile at each other, before resuming their roles as genial hosts.

‘Please allow us to assure you that your privacy will be rigorously protected, all the time that you’re with us,’ said Alice.

‘No one apart from us knows that you’re here,’ said Norman.

‘What about the hotel staff?’ said Diana. ‘Can all of them be trusted to be discreet?’

‘Given the importance of the occasion, my husband and I decided to give everyone the weekend off,’ said Alice. ‘We can manage everything that needs doing, for just a few days.’

And then the Makepeaces stopped talking and looked expectantly at Crispin, silently asking, Are you anybody?

‘I am Canon Browne,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I will be performing the marriage ceremony for our two young friends.’

‘Of course!’ said Norman, relaxing a little now he could be sure the Canon was somebody. ‘Delighted to have you with us, your … Grace?’

‘Call me Crispin, please. Every time someone calls me Canon I expect to get fired. Now to the important question: does this hotel have a decent bar?’

‘Not only do we have a first-class bar,’ Norman said proudly, ‘but we can offer you the very best in food as well as drink.’

‘Does that include local ales?’ said Crispin.

Norman showed him a connoisseur’s smile. ‘I think you’ll find we can offer you a fine selection.’

Alice raised her eyes briefly to the heavens. ‘Please don’t get him started. My husband could bore for the Olympics when it comes to real ales.’

‘Some things matter,’ said Norman, ‘because they do.’

‘Couldn’t agree more, my dear fellow,’ said Crispin.

Alistair looked the Makepeaces over thoughtfully as Crispin and Norman happily exchanged obscure names in the real ale game. In his experience, when people seemed too good to be true, that was usually the case.

Norman was a little less than average height, and rather more than average weight, wearing a smart but dull suit of a blue so light it was practically grey. His only concession to style was a spotted bow-tie. Norman had a round face, an almost completely bald head, and a smile that might or might not have been genuine, but certainly looked like he practised it a lot. He seemed to Alistair like someone who would use the phrase your genial host without even a hint of irony.

His wife Alice was a good foot taller, a dark coffee-skinned Indian lady with calm dark eyes and a delicate gold ring in her left nostril. She wore a sharply cut dark-blue business suit and a determined smile, as though hospitality was just another of her duties that she was determined to carry out come hell or high water. Alistair thought she had the look of a woman whose slim figure was the result of strict dieting, and had far more nervous energy than was good for her. Or anyone around her.

Diana finally broke into Crispin and Norman’s enthusiastic conversation by raising her voice and just talking right over them.

‘Has there been any sign of my parents yet? Edward Buchanan and Charlotte Glory. That’s their stage names; they’re both actors.’

‘Would we have seen them in anything?’ said Norman, just a bit doubtfully.

‘Almost certainly,’ said Diana. ‘Though these days, they mostly confine themselves to the theatre.’

She didn’t add, not entirely by choice.

‘We haven’t seen anyone from the guest list you provided,’ said Alice. ‘You and the Canon are the first to arrive.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Have all the rooms been properly aired out?’

‘Of course, my dear.’

‘And a proper turn-down service?’

‘In every room.’

‘Did you remember to place our little pamphlet of local attractions on all the bedside tables?’ said Alice.

‘Just as we discussed, dear,’ said Norman. He shot a quick smile at his guests. ‘My wife is something of a perfectionist.’

Alice sniffed. ‘I just like to see things done well.’

Norman beamed brightly at Alistair and Diana. ‘You’re the first real celebrities we’ve ever had staying here!’

‘Though we will of course abide by your wishes and not tell anybody about your visit until after you’ve left,’ said Alice.

Diana smiled sweetly. ‘At which point, you are free to squeeze as much publicity as you can out of our time in your hotel. You could even put up a blue plaque, saying the Actress and the Bishop slept together here.’

Alistair shook his head. ‘Can’t take you anywhere.’

‘Just as long as you take me,’ said Diana. ‘You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this year to pass.’

Alistair winced, just a little, but Alice and Norman were too busy smiling and nodding to each other to notice anything. They didn’t actually rub their hands together in anticipation of all the money they saw rolling in, but they looked like they wanted to.

‘About the Pale Rider himself …’ said Diana. ‘That sign outside made a hell of an impression. Any chance of catching a glimpse of the old devil while we’re here?’

‘Oh, there hasn’t been an actual sighting in more than two hundred years,’ Alice said quickly.

‘Now you know that’s not strictly true, dear,’ Norman said carefully. ‘There might not have been a properly verified sighting, but all sorts of people have claimed they’ve seen the Pale Rider doing his thing of a night, out on the moonlit moors. It’s just that most of them didn’t have anyone with them at the time, to back up their close encounter of the spooky kind.’

‘I can’t help feeling that’s not a coincidence,’ Alice said sharply. She smiled quickly at the guests. ‘People just like to be part of the old stories.’

‘Are you saying some people actually still see the Pale Rider?’ said Alistair. ‘As in, recently?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Alice. ‘But it’s very easy to be mistaken when it comes to identifying things moving around on the moor, especially in the uncertain light. There are always so many shadows, to hide or distort things.’

Norman started to say something, but Alice shut him down with a quick look.

‘I’m surprised anyone ever goes out on the moor,’ said Crispin. ‘It’s not like there’s much to look at it, and it is a very long way from the town.’

Norman’s enthusiasm got the better of him, and he was off and speaking enthusiastically again before Alice could intervene.

‘People from all over the world make a special effort to come here and try to spot the Rider,’ he said proudly. ‘Our local legend is very popular on the kind of websites that specialise in the strange and unnatural. Lots of visitors stake out the moor with their special cameras and equipment, hoping to see something. Sometimes they even put up tents—’

‘Of course we don’t encourage that,’ said Alice. ‘They either book a room in the hotel, or we make sure the local authorities move them on. I really can’t believe the cheek of some people …’

Diana looked at Alistair. ‘Congratulations. You’ve found another spooky setting for us to get involved in.’

Alistair looked sternly at the Makepeaces. ‘None of this was mentioned on your website.’

‘It’s all just talk,’ Norman said innocently. ‘It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘Exactly,’ said Alice. ‘Our hotel has a far more interesting history anyway. Tell them, Norman.’

‘I was just about to, dear,’ he said cheerfully. ‘The Pale Rider is one of the oldest hotels in this area. The first mention of it comes from the late 1640s, but it’s still very much a going concern, despite being a little long in the tooth. Of course we’ve made sure everything is up to date. We can offer you every comfort, every luxury, and Wi-Fi in every room. If there’s anything special you require in the way of food or drink, just let us know. If we can’t provide it, we know people in town who will be only too happy to rush it to our door at a moment’s notice.’

‘Well, that’s good to know,’ said Diana.

Alistair just knew from the way Diana was smiling that she was already working on some really obscure requests, just to test them. Like snails with truffles, in a caviar drizzle. Diana had actually made him try that once, and he’d had to get up three times in the night.

‘What can you tell me about the attached chapel?’ said Crispin. ‘I feel I should know as much as possible about its history, if I’m to marry my young friends there. It’s not just about the look and the atmosphere; I have to satisfy myself as to the chapel’s sanctity and dignity.’

‘You have nothing to worry about there,’ Alice said quickly. ‘Our chapel has witnessed any number of very successful marriage ceremonies.’

‘But how many of them took?’ said Diana. ‘How many of your happy couples are still together?’

‘I’m sure that is none of our business,’ said Alice.

‘The chapel is much older than the hotel,’ Norman said quickly. ‘Some say it dates all the way back to Saxon times. A little on the cold side, and sometimes a little draughty when the wind blows in off the ocean …’

‘But it provides a perfectly suitable setting for every kind of marriage ceremony,’ Alice said firmly. ‘Many couples have taken their vows quite happily in our chapel, and there has never been a single complaint.’

Norman cleared his throat carefully. ‘Both the hotel and the chapel come with their own stories and superstitions, if you’re interested in that sort of thing …’

‘Really?’ said Crispin, raising his shaggy eyebrows. ‘Do tell, my dear fellow.’

‘They’re just stories—’ said Alice.

But this time Norman refused to be silenced and talked right over her.

‘I’ve read up on all the various local legends, and I have the right to call myself something of an expert. Of course, all hotels come with their own supernatural baggage, because you can be sure that anything you can think of has happened in a hotel at one time or another, and not all of these stories end well.’

‘Are you about to inform us that this hotel is haunted?’ said Diana, just a bit dangerously.

Alice brought the flat of her hand down hard on the reception desk.

‘No one has ever reported seeing a ghost in any of our rooms!’ she said loudly.

‘Quite right, my dear,’ said Norman. ‘However … legend has it that the number of rooms in this hotel have been known to change, every time someone tries to count them. No matter how many times people add them up, it always comes to a different number. Not by much, just one or two, but that is fascinating, don’t you think? Perhaps they’re the ghosts of rooms that used to be … or rooms that haven’t been built yet.’

Alice forced a laugh. ‘My husband and his imagination. There are quite definitely only thirty rooms in this hotel, all of them properly numbered.’

‘Though of course there is no room Thirteen,’ said Norman. ‘And never has been, because people find that number unlucky. All the rooms are numbered, from One to Fourteen to Thirty. However …’ And here he leaned forward, so he could lower his voice confidentially. ‘There are stories about people who have found a door with number Thirteen on it. When they try the handle, sometimes it’s locked and sometimes it isn’t … But there are those who say that people who do manage to go inside are never seen again …’

He looked around him solemnly, making the most of the moment.

‘Hold everything and let’s think about that,’ said Alistair. ‘If these people go in and never come out again, and there aren’t any witnesses, how can anyone know what happened to them?’

Norman looked quietly crushed. Alice allowed herself a brief victorious smile.

‘It’s just an old story,’ she said condescendingly. ‘Something to chill the blood in front of a warm fire on a cold night. We don’t discourage the old stories, because they’re good for business. That’s why we keep the old sign outside. People love that sort of thing. We had an actual Goth convention here last Halloween.’

‘I think they called it Beltane,’ said Norman. ‘Or was it Samhain …? I do remember the young ladies wore some very remarkable costumes.’

‘I’m not surprised you remember that,’ said Alice. ‘You spent enough time staring at them.’

‘I did not stare!’ said Norman, stung enough to raise his voice. ‘I just … took an interest.’

‘And it was pretty clear what you were interested in,’ said Alice.

Norman looked like he was drawing himself up to say something very unwise, so Alistair cleared his throat loudly, just to draw everyone’s attention back to the original subject.

‘I don’t remember seeing any of these stories on your website,’ he said, just a bit pointedly.

‘We prefer to put our faith in the hotel’s good reputation,’ said Alice. ‘People come back here all the time, simply because they have such a pleasant stay. But … some of the weirder stories do pop up, on the kind of sites dedicated to such things.’

‘There is a very interesting book by a local author,’ said Norman. ‘It can tell you all about the legends surrounding this hotel.’

‘You can purchase copies online,’ said Alice. ‘If you wish.’

‘I’m more interested in any legends attached to the chapel,’ said Crispin.

Norman nodded, then paused as he chose his words carefully, and this time Alice made no attempt to shut him down.

‘The chapel contains a very old dagger, called Flying Justice,’ said Norman. ‘Supposedly, it was brought back from the Crusades by a local knight, Sir Justin. His family used to live in a castle not far from here.’

‘That’s long gone now, of course,’ said Alice, apparently unable to stay out of any conversation for long. ‘Nothing left to look at now, apart from a few old stones sticking out of the ground.’

‘What happened?’ said Diana.

‘No one seems too sure,’ said Norman. ‘The family just walked away one night and abandoned it. Lots of people tried to live in the castle, down the years, but none of them ever seemed to stay long.’

‘It was probably very expensive to run and maintain,’ said Alice.

‘I’m sure it was, dear,’ said Norman. ‘But I don’t think that’s why they left.’

‘They left because it wasn’t safe!’ said Alice. ‘No one was surprised when the castle eventually collapsed, sometime in the late nineteenth century. There hadn’t been any real maintenance work carried out for ages. The local townspeople came running from all directions to plunder the old stonework for building materials, while their families carried off everything else they could get their hands on.’

‘So they weren’t scared of the castle?’ said Alistair.

‘Apparently not,’ said Alice. ‘People in this area have always been a very practical breed.’

‘What about Flying Justice?’ said Crispin.

‘The dagger still hangs on a wall in the chapel,’ said Norman. ‘Directly above the altar. It got its rather dramatic name because the dagger can supposedly tear itself free from its scabbard and fly through the air, to strike down those who have sinned greatly but never been found out.’

Diana looked at Alistair. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘That particular story was mentioned on the website,’ said Alistair. ‘If you looked hard enough. But there was nothing to indicate the dagger was still there.’

‘In the chapel,’ said Diana. ‘Where we are supposed to be getting married?’

‘So it would seem. I thought you liked a mystery.’

‘We will talk more about this later,’ said Diana.

‘It’s only a story,’ said Alistair.

‘Can I have that in writing?’

‘My husband and I are aware of your past experiences with … unusual situations,’ said Alice. ‘But I can assure you that the legend of the flying dagger is nothing more than that. To my certain knowledge it hasn’t moved from its position on the chapel wall for as long as my husband and I have been running this hotel.’

‘Perhaps we just haven’t been visited by a sinner bad enough to wake it up,’ said Norman, trying for a light touch and not even coming close.

‘I think we need to go and take a look at this chapel for ourselves,’ said Crispin.

‘I really wouldn’t recommend that,’ Alice said quickly. ‘It’s bound to be rather cold and uncomfortable, at this time of the evening.’

‘But I am fascinated by local history and local legends,’ Crispin said firmly. ‘Can’t get enough of them, my dears! Especially those that have a religious connection. I thought I was familiar with all the uncanny stories from this part of the world, but I’d never heard this one before.’

Norman and Alice looked at each other and then moved out from behind the reception desk with what looked like genuine reluctance. And Alistair had to wonder just how much of the stories they’d been telling were just stories.

It was only a short walk along the front of the hotel, though the air was colder than Alistair had expected and the evening a lot darker. Grim grey clouds had moved in over the hotel, and the gusting wind had a bitter edge. As the setting for the wedding loomed before them, it quickly became clear that the chapel had never been part of the hotel. It was just a square squat structure that butted up against the main building. They all crowded together before the front door, and Alistair’s first thought was that he really didn’t like the look of the place. Wreathed in shadows and almost defiantly ugly, the chapel had a harsh brooding presence. As though it was lying in wait, to judge the unworthy. Diana leaned in close to Alistair so she could murmur in his ear.

‘I’m not surprised they kept this off their website. I only saw the picturesque Gothic interior photos they posted to impress people. If I’d known the chapel was going to look like this, I would have insisted the Canon perform an exorcism before we used it.’

‘Oh, I don’t think it’s that bad,’ said Crispin.

Alistair and Diana both jumped a little. They hadn’t realised the Canon was close enough to overhear them.

‘You have to understand the context,’ said Crispin, in his most scholarly tone. ‘This is a chapel of the old school, from when religion was taken extremely seriously. Buildings like this were intended to strike a proper fear of God into their congregations.’

‘Someone did good work here,’ said Alistair.

‘It’s still standing, after all these years,’ said the Canon. ‘A testimony to the power of faith.’

Norman moved in close to the heavy oaken door and produced a large key ring. He fumbled through the assorted keys until he sorted out the right one, and then unlocked the door. He had to brace himself and push hard to get the door moving.

‘We always keep the chapel locked when it’s not in use,’ said Alice, making no move to assist her husband. ‘Not because there’s anything in there worth stealing, but because you can’t be too careful these days. Can you?’

‘And not at all because there’s a flying dagger on the wall that might have someone’s head off?’ said Diana.

‘Of course not!’ said Alice, laughing lightly. ‘The very idea!’

But Alistair couldn’t help noticing that Alice hung back so Norman could lead the way in. They’d barely crossed the threshold before all of them were shivering suddenly. The temperature had dropped so quickly it was like walking into a meat locker. Norman quickly hit the light switches by the door, and two bare bulbs hanging at opposite ends of the chapel shed a flat dim glow over the scene.

‘Our wedding ceremonies always take place during the day,’ said Norman. He kept his voice low, though whether out of respect or because he didn’t want to attract attention wasn’t immediately clear. ‘I can assure you that conditions here are far more pleasant during the daylight hours.’

‘And we always use massed candles for the ceremonies,’ Alice said quickly. ‘It’s so romantic …’

‘Unlike the current atmosphere, which is cold enough to give a brass monkey serious problems,’ said Diana, hugging herself tightly.

‘It’s the thick stone walls,’ said Norman. ‘They do ensure it’s delightfully cool in the summer.’

Diana scowled at him and shivered dramatically. ‘It feels like someone is dancing on my grave.’

‘Probably a critic,’ said Alistair.

He peered around him. The dozen wooden pews facing the altar were very basic, with no cushions, kneeling pads or ornamental carvings, and the altar was just a block of solid stone, with no decorations to take the edge off its blunt presence. The stained-glass windows to either side showed only coloured shapes, no stylised figures or any attempt to tell a story. The limited light falling through the stained-glass cast a muted rainbow glow across the interior, that did little to push back the surrounding shadows.

‘This chapel was designed to instil a sense of respect and obedience to God,’ Crispin said quietly. ‘Comfort and reassurance were somewhat lower on the agenda.’

‘But I can assure you it adds a real sense of solemnity and authority to any ceremony,’ Alice said quickly.

‘Makes you feel really married,’ said Norman.

Alice could tell her guests weren’t feeling particularly impressed, and her voice rose sharply.

‘We’ve never had a single complaint! Not one! Tell them, Norman!’

‘Our chapel is never short of bookings,’ Norman said quickly. ‘Take a look at the comments section on our website. All our married couples have had very complimentary things to say about their time here.’

‘Probably because they didn’t hang around long,’ said Diana.

‘And you’ve never held a wedding here at night?’ said Alistair, fixing Norman with a thoughtful look. ‘Not even for the Goths?’

‘We don’t encourage that,’ said Alice. ‘Really not a good idea. Far too easy for someone to trip or fall and injure themselves, in the gloom.’

‘Not that anyone ever has,’ said Norman.

‘But we have to be careful,’ said Alice.

‘Where is this legendary flying dagger?’ said Crispin.

Norman pointed to the bare stone wall behind the altar. The dagger was surprisingly small and unimpressive, barely six inches long and difficult to make out in the dim light. The slim blade was sheathed in a stone scabbard that was part of the wall. Alistair moved forward for a closer look, and Diana immediately moved in beside him, with Crispin bringing up the rear. The Makepeaces stayed by the door.

‘That thing wouldn’t fly if the Wright brothers helped it,’ said Diana.

Alistair leaned across the altar, while being very careful not to touch the ancient stone, and looked closely at the dagger.

‘There appears to be a Latin inscription carved into the stone scabbard. I’m having trouble making it out. Crispin …’

The Canon moved in beside him. ‘I should have known you’d need my help with the translation. You never were able to make yourself at home with Latin, were you? Let me see … It says, I seek. I find. I avenge.’

‘Charming,’ Diana said flatly.

Alistair turned back to face her. ‘It’s up to you. If you’re not happy, we can always just cancel everything and find somewhere else.’

Diana squared her shoulders bravely. ‘I think, given our background, this chapel is actually quite suitable. And we’ve got more guests on their way here. Everything’s been arranged.’ She made herself smile easily at Alistair. ‘Besides, I’m not giving you a chance to wriggle out.’

‘Not going to happen,’ said Alistair.

‘I know, Bish,’ said Diana. ‘Only teasing.’ And then she lowered her voice. ‘Most importantly, we’ve been lucky to dodge the media’s attention this far. I doubt we’d do as well anywhere else.’ She turned to face the Makepeaces at the door. ‘We will be getting married here. First thing tomorrow morning.’

‘Delighted to hear it,’ said Norman, and beamed at the Actress and the Bishop to prove it.

‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy,’ said Alice, showing everyone her most professional smile.

‘Or our money back?’ said Alistair.

Norman and Alice looked at each other and laughed lightly, in a way that made it very clear that refunds were never going to be an option.

TWO

Making An Impression

The last of the light was dropping out of the day as everyone made their way back to the hotel. Deepening shadows crowded in around the group, as though herding them along. Alistair and Diana wandered along in the rear and allowed Crispin to take the lead with Norman and Alice, chatting cheerfully as though he thought he could push back the growing gloom with the sheer force of his charm.

‘So, my dear friends, how long have the two of you been running this amazingly atmospheric hotel?’

‘Almost ten years now,’ said Norman. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, dear?’

‘Two more months and it will be our tenth anniversary,’ said Alice.

‘Since we turned our backs on our old lives, determined to get away from it all,’ said Norman.

‘One of your more inspired notions, dear,’ said Alice.

‘I’m surprised you’ve been able to make such a success of things,’ said Crispin. ‘Given how far from civilisation your hotel is.’

‘That’s always been one of the Pale Rider’s strengths,’ Norman said eagerly. ‘Our little home away from home can be the perfect place for people desperate to enjoy some real peace and quiet.’

‘They can go for long walks in our magnificent countryside,’ said Alice, ‘and enjoy the sound of the wind as it goes rushing through the heather, or the cries of birds on the wing. Then there are the scenic walks along the cliff, or even all the way back into town for those of a more adventurous spirit. Everywhere you look there is something worth looking at, a sight to gladden the soul and comfort the heart.’

‘Are you by any chance quoting from your website?’ said Crispin.

‘Well, yes,’ said Alice. ‘But I wrote it and I meant every word. We’re not just selling peace of mind, but ease of soul.’

‘That’s one of the reasons we decided to specialise in marriages,’ Norman said quickly. ‘Because no matter what time of year it is, there’s always going to be someone keen to tie the knot somewhere unusual.’

‘We guarantee them a ceremony they’ll never forget, in a setting like no other,’ said Alice. ‘We take pride in providing the happiest of days, magic moments, and the best possible beginning to a new life together.’

‘We like to see our happy couples being happy,’ said Norman. ‘I suppose we’re just old romantics, at heart.’

‘In a businesslike way,’ said Alice.

‘And of course the local myths and legends continue to draw people in,’ said Norman. ‘All of them eager to catch a glimpse of something wild and wonderful from the hidden world.’

‘We don’t even have to spread the word about the weird stuff,’ said Alice. ‘The stories just jump from site to site, growing and changing with every near encounter, until we hardly recognise where they came from.’

‘But you’ve never seen any reason to believe in these old stories?’ said Crispin.

Norman shook his head. ‘Despite all the years we’ve been here, we’ve never once seen anything out of the ordinary.’

‘We don’t need to believe,’ said Alice. ‘All that matters is that the guests do.’

‘And you’re happy to play along with the true believers and the supernaturally curious?’ said Crispin.

‘It’s all part of providing a service,’ said Norman. ‘We just tell the tales, encourage the seekers after unknown truths with a few kind words, and point out the best routes across the moor.’

‘We even provide packed lunches and stout walking boots,’ said Alice.

‘And when they come stumbling back to the hotel, cold and exhausted from a long evening’s ghost-hunting, we are always on hand to offer them a hot drink and a comfortable chair right next to the big fire in the bar,’ said Norman. ‘Anything to keep our guests happy.’

‘So they’ll want to come back another time,’ said Alice.

‘And all of that must add a special atmosphere to the weddings,’ said Crispin.

‘We like to think so,’ said Alice.

‘Ah, the romance of it all …’ said Norman.

Alistair and Diana followed on behind, sticking close together as the gloom pressed in around them. The evening air had become distinctly wintry, but Alistair wouldn’t lower himself to shiver. He didn’t want anyone to think the setting was getting to him. He glowered at the hotel that had promised a delightful weekend in charming surroundings, but now seemed determined to drop them back in the old paranormal rut.

‘Stop scowling,’ said Diana. ‘It’s not as bad as all that.’

‘I can’t help feeling I’ve let you down,’ said Alistair. ‘This is not what we were looking forward to.’

‘It’s not quite what I expected,’ Diana admitted. ‘I was very taken with all those photos on the website, that made the Pale Rider and its chapel seem delightfully snug and cosy as well as picturesquely Gothic … somewhere we could settle back and relax, a world away from all the weird stuff that’s always dogging our heels.’

‘Website photos are always carefully selected to sell you a dream,’ said Alistair. ‘I thought I was prepared for the reality to be somewhat less, but that chapel was the last straw. I’ve been in more welcoming graveyards. We could still walk away from all this with a clear conscience, if that’s what you want.’

‘No,’ said Diana. ‘I think the chapel will do nicely. Admittedly it’s more Gothic than an Emo Pride march, but I’m pretty sure we can make the atmosphere work for us. It shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade the Makepeaces to provide some photo coverage of the ceremony, which we will then allow them to use in their hotel publicity, on the understanding that we get first selling rights to the tabloids. I know some editors who will absolutely lose their minds over photos of the Holy Terrors getting married in a spooky chapel. And they’ll eat up all the local myths and legends with spoons.’ She broke off, to smile reassuringly at Alistair. ‘Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make sure the photography is respectfully unobtrusive. Nothing that might interfere with the occasion. That will still be all about us. But we have to throw some raw meat to the sharks, if we’re to keep the media off our backs.’

‘I do understand about paying the devil his dues,’ said Alistair. ‘And I’m happy to go along with anything that will make you happy. Rest assured that during the ceremony I will only have eyes for you. Just make sure the photographer gets our good sides.’

‘Darling, all my sides are good sides,’ said Diana.

‘I wouldn’t argue with that,’ said Alistair.

They laughed quietly together and snuggled in close, and the gusting wind didn’t seem nearly as cold.

‘There is no way we don’t come out of this on top,’ said Diana. ‘Unless there really does turn out to be a Pale Rider, or an actual Flying Justice.’

‘Even after everything we’ve been through, I’m still convinced that most of the things that go bump in the night are nothing more than the plumbing playing up,’ said Alistair. ‘Every case we’ve investigated turned out to have an everyday solution, in the end.’

‘So far …’ said Diana.

Alistair smiled. ‘Have a little faith.’

‘You have enough for both of us,’ said Diana. ‘Forget the hotel and the chapel, the myths and the legends. All that really matters is we are finally getting hitched, and nothing is going to stand in our way.’

‘Not even an appearance by the Pale Rider himself?’ said Alistair.

‘I don’t care if he starts banging on the chapel front door with his bony fist,’ said Diana. ‘He’s not getting in without an invitation.’

Crispin and the Makepeaces reached the front door of the hotel and entered the lobby, still chatting animatedly. But before the door could swing shut the voices cut off, and everything inside went suddenly quiet. Alistair and Diana looked at each other.

‘What the hell has gone wrong now?’ said Diana.

‘The mind boggles,’ said Alistair.

They braced themselves, and slammed through the door into the lobby.

‘Diana, my dear!’ said a very loud and theatre-trained voice. ‘We have made our way to the very edge of the world, to be here for you!’

‘But what fresh hell do we find ourselves in, Diana darling?’ boomed a very similar female voice. ‘What on earth could have led you to choose such a melancholy setting for your wedding?’

Diana stopped in her tracks, and sighed heavily. ‘Oh wonderful. My parents have arrived. My joy is now complete.’ She turned to Alistair, and lowered her voice. ‘Don’t let them throw you. Just keep your chin up, look them square in the eye, and remember they can smell fear.’

‘They’re your parents,’ said Alistair. ‘I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t get along splendidly.’

Diana shook her head. ‘You have no idea.’

She slipped a possessive arm through his and led him forward to meet his prospective in-laws.

Edward Buchanan was a tall and studiously elegant man in his early sixties, wearing a navy-blue blazer with brightly shining brass buttons, white slacks with a perfect crease, and a peach cravat at his throat. He reminded Alistair irresistibly of some minor official in a yachting club. Edward had noble patrician features, a hawk nose, an amiable gaze, and a fine head of tousled grey hair. His skin was expensively tanned, and the teeth in his flashing smile showed every evidence of being recently whitened. He should have had a strong commanding presence, but something in the way he always broke off when his wife started talking had a tendency to kick the dignity right out from under him.

Every time Edward looked at his wife, and she failed to look at him, Alistair saw their whole marriage in a moment.

Alistair was sure he’d seen Edward’s face before, in a whole bunch of those old movies and television shows that turn up on the nostalgia channels, but for the life of him, Alistair couldn’t put a name to any of them, let alone the roles Edward had played. He might have been a big star once, but time had reduced him to just another jobbing actor, frequently employed but never memorable, a safe pair of hands but never standing out.

Charlotte Glory was a good head shorter than her husband, but radiated so much sheer presence that she actually seemed bigger than him. She was wearing an elegant silk creation that left her tanned shoulders bare while sweeping down to her ankles, stopping just short enough that she could show off her fashionable shoes. But she still didn’t look a day under sixty, because every time she bestowed a patronising smile on someone it threw her wrinkles into sharp relief. She had a sharp-featured face, with dyed jet-black hair that had been styled into utter subservience, icy green eyes, and a generous mouth. And Alistair could see immediately where Diana had learned to do her make-up. Charlotte had received her early training in the theatre, where it was vitally important to be seen clearly even in the back rows, and her make-up didn’t so much make an impression as shout in everyone’s face, I am somebody! Pay attention! Alistair couldn’t help thinking that Charlotte had come perilously close to committing one of the most unforgivable sins: that of trying to look more glamorous than her own daughter at her wedding.

Looking at Diana’s parents standing together, effortlessly posed as though always ready for the next photograph, was like staring into the sun. They blazed; they dazzled.

‘Alistair,’ said Diana, as cheerfully as she could manage under the circumstances, ‘allow me to present my parents, Edward and Charlotte. Acting royalty, stars of stage, big and small screens, and far too many smoky little clubs offering dubious entertainments to clapped-out partygoers and the dregs of the social calendar.’

‘You just can’t let that go, can you?’ Charlotte said coldly.

‘It was a long time ago, Diana dear,’ Edward said reproachfully.

‘Not for me,’ said Diana. ‘I wasn’t much more than a kid when you dragged me round every dingy underground club in London. Stuck me at the back of the room with a lemonade and a bag of crisps, while you two went on stage and cracked jokes and sang songs I should never have been exposed to.’

‘When work is scarce, one has to go where the work is,’ said Charlotte, in a calm and reassuring voice that didn’t even try to be an apology. ‘Those personal appearances went a long way to paying your school fees.’

‘Were we really so wrong to want you with us, instead of leaving you with some paid stranger?’ said Edward.

‘So stop fussing,’ Charlotte said briskly. ‘And continue introducing us to your handsome young man.’

Diana smiled determinedly. ‘Mummy and Daddy, this is Bishop Alistair Kincaid: the man I am going to marry come hell or high water.’

‘Delighted to meet you both,’ said Alistair.

He put forward his hand to be shaken, and Edward crushed it in a manly grip. Alistair shook hands as heartily as he could manage, careful to keep any trace of a wince out of his face. He turned to Charlotte, who extended her hand to be kissed. Alistair did so, with all the grace he could muster. He felt a little as though he’d just kissed the Pope’s ring, which was a disturbing thought for a Protestant bishop.

‘Well,’ said Charlotte, letting her eyes drift interestedly over Alistair. ‘I have to say you’ve done well for yourself with this one, Diana. He is just so utterly yummy. I could eat him alive.’

And perhaps only Alistair saw Edward’s mouth tighten a little, as though he’d heard this same remark far too many times before. Charlotte was too busy smiling seductively at Alistair to notice.

He smiled easily back at her, and then took a measured and very deliberate step backwards.

Charlotte’s smile disappeared in a moment. She turned away from Alistair and put all her attention into a meaningful look in Crispin’s direction, in a way that all but shouted, Is this person important? Do I need to be nice to him?

Diana suppressed another sigh, and somehow kept her smile going. ‘Mummy and Daddy, this is Canon Crispin Browne, from Cambridge University. He’ll be performing the ceremony.’

‘Oh, how splendid!’ said Charlotte, sounding very much like the Queen opening a new abattoir. ‘An actual canon? How very … High Church! You have done well for yourself, darling.’

‘Nothing like a proper man of the cloth, to add dignity to a wedding,’ Edward said heartily.

Alistair thought Charlotte and Edward both gave the impression of faded aristocrats trying to remember how much one was supposed to tip the clergy. They smiled graciously at Crispin, who immediately endeared himself to Diana and Alistair by just nodding briefly in return, before turning away to continue his conversation with the Makepeaces.

‘So!’ Alistair said brightly to Edward. ‘What have you been doing recently? Anything we might have heard of?’

‘My wife and I have just finished a very successful tour in The Boyfriend,’ Edward said grandly.

‘Weren’t the roles a bit young for you?’ said Diana.

‘That’s why it’s called acting, darling,’ Charlotte said coldly. ‘We went down very well. A standing ovation every night, and the reviewers raved over my performance.’

‘And we will soon be joining a new company,’ said Edward, ‘dedicated to taking the best of English theatre to the provinces.’

‘It must be so hard for the poor dears,’ said Charlotte. ‘Living without culture.’

‘They won’t know what’s hit them,’ Diana assured her sweetly.

‘And what are you doing next, dear?’ said Edward. ‘Now your West End run has sadly reached its conclusion?’

‘My agent is discussing a part in the next James Bond movie,’ said Diana. ‘Licensed To Thrill.’

A pained expression crossed Charlotte’s face, and then settled in for what promised to be a long stay.

‘Tell me you’re not going to be parading around as another Bond girl, darling.’

‘Hardly,’ said Diana. ‘I’ve been offered the part of the main villain – a sexy femme fatale, Minerva Malice. I get to beat up Bond, sleep with him, and then betray him to his enemies.’

‘So,’ said Alistair, ‘business as usual, for 007.’

‘Exactly!’ said Diana. ‘It’s going to be such fun!’

‘Haven’t you moved a bit beyond Bond, dear?’ said Edward.

‘Not for the money they’re offering,’ said Diana. ‘Well, here we all are! I’m glad you made it to my wedding. Since you never made it to my Lady Macbeth.’

‘Oh, we wanted to be there, darling, you know we did, but we were just so busy,’ said Charlotte. She waved her elegant hand vaguely. ‘You know how it is.’

‘Yes,’ said Diana. ‘I know how it is.’

‘But we wouldn’t have missed your wedding for the world!’ said Charlotte.

‘Absolutely,’ said Edward, managing a real smile for the first time. ‘We couldn’t be happier for you, Diana.’

Charlotte inclined her head graciously to Alistair. ‘You must be very proud, to be marrying our daughter.’

‘Yes,’ said Alistair, ‘I am.’

Charlotte just kept going, as though she hadn’t heard him. ‘We are aware of your achievements, obviously.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t watch morning television,’ said Edward.

‘We’re not morning people,’ said Charlotte.

‘But we understand you have quite a following,’ said Edward.

‘People like to hear what I have to say,’ Alistair said easily. ‘And of course, it helps to have something worth saying. I know about your careers, of course. Diana has been telling me all about them.’

There was a pause, as Diana’s parents picked up the implications of that, and then they both flashed Alistair their best professional smiles, before giving all their attention to Diana.

‘How are you enjoying your first real interest from the media, darling?’ said Charlotte. ‘It must make such a marvellous change for you, not having to fight for the spotlight …’

‘I’ve always handled it well enough in the past,’ said Diana, not giving an inch. ‘But all this obsession over covering our every move has been a bit overwhelming. I certainly didn’t expect to be driven into the back of beyond for my wedding.’ She glanced quickly at Norman and Alice. ‘No offence intended …’

‘None taken, I’m sure,’ said Alice.

‘Sounded like a perfectly reasonable description to me,’ said Norman.

‘I remember the coverage in our glory days,’ said Edward, smiling reflectively. ‘The media just couldn’t leave us alone. We were pursued absolutely everywhere …’

‘And of course we are still very well known, in the circles that matter,’ said Charlotte.

‘What circles would those be?’ Alistair said politely.

‘The theatre,’ said Edward, just a bit reproachfully, as though it should have been obvious.

Charlotte smiled benignly on Diana. ‘I’m sure you’ll learn to cope with the media much better, now you’ve experienced some real fame. Your father and I did.’

Alistair sighed inwardly. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that while Diana’s parents might be proud of their daughter’s success, they were also more than a little jealous, because she seemed on the brink of becoming even more famous than they used to be. He kept a watchful eye on Diana, but she seemed to be taking it all in her stride. Alistair considered a childhood growing up with those parents, and much about Diana’s character became clear. He decided it was time to break up the conversation, and turned to the Makepeaces.

‘Why don’t you tell Edward and Charlotte all about the local myths and legends? I’m sure they’d just love to hear your spooky stories.’

Norman brightened immediately at the prospect of a new audience, while Alice looked quietly resigned. Norman launched himself into the legend of the Pale Rider, while Edward and Charlotte stared blankly back at him. They weren’t used to being the audience. Crispin leaned one elbow on the reception desk, watched it all unfold before him, and didn’t even try to hide his amusement. Alistair ushered Diana discreetly off to one side.

‘Are you all right?’ he said quietly.

‘I’m fine, honestly, darling,’ said Diana. ‘Don’t let Mummy and Daddy throw you. I’ve been coping with that nonsense my entire life. And yes, you did read them right: they are jealous. It’s hard for them to accept I’m now occupying the kind of media spotlight that used to follow them around. That’s show business for you, red in tooth and claw. There genuinely was a time when they were the most glamorous couple on the London scene. Now they’d do anything to get back in the public eye and restore their lost celebrity. I had to threaten them with expulsion from the wedding if they leaked any advance details to the press.’

Alistair stared at her, genuinely shocked. ‘You really think they would have done that? To their own daughter?’

Diana nodded, and actually managed a small smile. ‘Their motto has always been: Anything, for the headline.’

Alistair had to smile. ‘I thought that was you?’

‘Who do you think I learned it from?’ said Diana. ‘But at the end of the day, the family has always closed ranks against the media. We might sell our own soul, but not each other’s. They’ll play along till the wedding is over, and then squeeze out as much publicity for themselves as they can. Because even reflected glory is better than none. Especially if they can parlay it into their next acting engagement.’

‘And you don’t mind?’ said Alistair.

‘How can I begrudge them one last fling with fame?’ said Diana. ‘They taught me everything I know.’

A loud and cheerful voice suddenly made itself known from the front door. ‘Hello, the Pale Rider! Is there anyone free to help me with my luggage?’

Norman beamed happily on the newcomer. ‘Of course, Mr Mason! So happy to see you here!’

Alistair turned quickly. ‘Giles!’

‘Alistair, you old God-botherer!’

Giles sauntered into the lobby, grinning all over his face. A large bearish figure, he was wearing a smart and stylish jacket over blue jeans and blocky workmen’s boots. Well into his late twenties, Giles was good-looking in a practiced sort of way, with floppy blond hair and an easy-going smile. Diana couldn’t keep herself from thinking he had the look of a man ready to make himself at home in any setting, as long as there was something in it for him. Giles and Alistair embraced heartily, clapped one another on the back, and then stepped back so Alistair could gesture Diana forward.

‘This is Diana Hunt, actress supreme and my bride-to-be! Say something nice to her, Giles.’

‘Wonderful to meet you, Diana,’ Giles said cheerfully. ‘Damn, how did Alistair end up with a gorgeous creature like you?’

‘Just lucky, I guess,’ said Diana.

‘I first met this charming man at the seminary, when we were both starting out in the religion business,’ said Alistair. ‘Both of us tipped for the top, in those days.’

‘But he had the patience for studying and I never did,’ said Giles. ‘So he stayed on, and I didn’t. He ended up a bishop, and I work in advertising. Where the real money’s to be found.’

‘He runs his own agency,’ Alistair said proudly. ‘So successful even I’ve heard of it.’

Giles grinned. ‘You could say we’re still in the same line of business: getting people to believe in something.’

‘Except that what I sell is real,’ said Alistair.

‘I’ll have to take that on faith,’ said Giles.

The two men laughed easily. And then they just stood there and looked at each other, as though they’d run out of things to say.

‘Well,’ Alistair said finally, ‘it’s been quite a while, since we last met.’

‘We’ve both been busy,’ said Giles. ‘Time passes, people change, life goes on … But we always swore we’d be best man at each other’s wedding, so here I am.’

‘Please tell me you brought a change of clothes for the ceremony,’ said Alistair. ‘Or do you need me to loan you something?’

‘Relax,’ said Giles. ‘The good suit is in my luggage, sitting outside where the taxi driver dumped it.’

He looked around just a bit pointedly for someone to help him with that, but Norman and Alice were busy lecturing Edward and Charlotte, who looked like they would have happily gone to fetch Giles’s luggage if it meant they could be spared from Norman and his stories.

‘Since Alistair hasn’t mentioned being your best man, Giles, am I to take it you’re not married?’ Diana said politely.

‘Hell, no,’ said Giles. ‘I’ve had relationships, but I never married any of them. And given that none of them worked out, that’s probably just as well. I hate to think of how much alimony I’d be paying …’

Diana smiled, but inside she was a little upset to discover she really didn’t think much of Alistair’s old friend. Perhaps because he’d immediately assumed a closeness with Alistair that Diana had thought was hers, and only hers.

Edward and Charlotte finally came forward to make themselves known to the new arrival, only to be visibly upset when Giles not only didn’t recognise their names, but clearly didn’t give a damn. Diana spoke quietly to Alistair.

‘You’re frowning. Is everything all right?’

‘Of course,’ Alistair said quickly, forcing a smile. ‘It’s just that … I haven’t seen Giles in such a long time, and he’s not quite the man I remember. But I’m really looking forward to getting to know him again.’

‘Why did he give up on the seminary?’ said Diana.

‘The usual,’ said Alistair. ‘A crisis of faith. It’s one thing to believe, but quite another to give your whole life to the Church. And Giles always was very materially minded.’

‘Hence the advertising,’ said Diana.

‘His last campaign won an award,’ said Alistair. ‘I googled him.’

Everyone broke off from what they were doing as the front door crashed open again. Diana let out a delighted shriek as a smartly dressed woman lurched into the lobby, dragging a heavy suitcase behind her. Diana ran over to throw her arms around the new arrival, and they both shrieked happily together. Diana turned back to beam around the lobby.

‘Everyone, I want you to meet my old friend and current bridesmaid, Eliza Howard!’

‘We started out in drama school together,’ said Eliza. ‘And immediately decided that if we worked together, there was nothing the world could do to stop us!’

Alistair came forward to shake Eliza’s hand. She smiled widely, hugged him tightly, and then pushed him aside to embrace everyone else. Giles and Crispin seemed happy enough to accept her advances, but Charlotte moved quickly to block the way to Edward, and the Makepeaces hid behind the reception desk. Eliza beamed cheerfully at everyone, and Alistair took the opportunity to study her carefully.

Eliza was good-looking in an uncomplicated sort of way, a medium-height woman in her mid-thirties, wearing a simple business suit that on closer inspection looked like it might have visited the laundry rather more times than was good for it. She had short-cropped blonde hair, a round and pleasant face, and only the most understated make-up.

‘Should I remember you from anything?’ Alistair said politely.

‘Oh no,’ said Eliza. ‘I found out very early on that I felt a lot more comfortable behind the camera than I ever did in front of it, so I moved sideways, into directing and producing.’

‘We’ve worked on quite a few projects together, down the years,’ said Diana. ‘Eliza, you remember my parents.’

‘Of course,’ said Eliza.

She marched right up to them and just started chatting away, giving them no choice in the matter. Diana moved in beside Alistair, who raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice.

‘Is she like that with everyone?’

‘Pretty much,’ said Diana. ‘What is that suit she’s wearing? The poor thing never did have much in the way of taste. She was always borrowing my clothes, even though they never suited her.’

‘She seems to be getting on well with your parents,’ said Alistair.

‘Oh, Eliza can get on with anybody,’ said Diana. ‘It’s all part of her skill set, as a director and a producer.’

‘There are worse ways to be,’ said Alistair.

Norman made a production of clearing his throat, waited till he was sure he had everyone’s attention, and then raised his voice.

‘If everyone is quite ready, I’ll sort out your keys and your luggage. An evening menu has been specially prepared for you.’

‘I’m sure you must all be feeling a bit peckish, after your long journeys,’ said Alice.

‘I could eat,’ said Giles.

‘Never knew you when you couldn’t,’ said Alistair.

‘If you’d all care to follow us through into the bar,’ said Norman, slipping out from behind the reception desk with Alice crowding his heels. ‘It doubles as our restaurant …’

‘I trust there’s a decent wine list?’ said Edward.

‘Even better,’ Crispin said cheerfully, ‘there’s real ale on tap!’

Edward shuddered theatrically. ‘The horror, the horror …’

‘If anyone even offers me a pasty, I shall weep bitter tears …’ said Charlotte.

‘Don’t,’ said Diana. ‘Your make-up will run.’

All the lights went out. It was suddenly completely dark in the lobby. Alistair looked immediately to the windows at the front of the hotel, but evening had turned into night without anyone noticing.

Voices were raised and people cried out, more startled than upset. Alistair could hear Edward murmuring comfortingly to Charlotte. He felt as much as saw Diana beside him, and put out his hand. It met her hand coming to meet his, and they held on to each other tightly.

‘Please remain calm!’ Norman said loudly. ‘There is nothing at all to worry about. There’s always been a slight problem with our electricity supply, due to the hotel being so far from town. It’s never down for long …’

Everyone calmed themselves, and there was even some smothered laughter as people decided there was nothing to be scared of after all. Alistair strained his eyes against the darkness, and could just make out the various dim figures standing around him. And then Giles’s voice cut suddenly across the quiet. It sounded shocked, and troubled.

‘There’s someone else here.’

‘Someone else?’ said Alistair. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘There’s another person in the lobby with us,’ said Giles. ‘Someone who wasn’t here when the lights went out.’

‘There can’t be!’ said Norman. ‘The front door never opened.’

‘And anyway, we would have heard them come in,’ said Alice.

‘But it feels like someone has joined us,’ Giles said stubbornly. ‘Like someone is standing very quietly, right in the middle of us.’

‘He’s right!’ said Eliza. And now she sounded shaken too. ‘Like I could just reach out and touch them …’

‘Calm down, both of you!’ Diana said sharply. ‘It’s just the darkness messing with your head, Eliza.’

Alistair quickly counted the dim figures around him.

‘I count nine people in this lobby,’ he said loudly, ‘and I can put a name to all of them.’

‘I can count too,’ Giles said sharply. ‘But it still feels like there’s more than that.’

‘I’m not feeling anything out of the ordinary,’ Diana said firmly.

‘Hush!’ Norman said suddenly. ‘Everyone, please be quiet, just for a moment. Listen … I’m almost sure I can hear someone breathing …’

‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘What is that …?’

Everyone stood very still, straining their ears against the quiet. It was so dark it was hard for Alistair to get a sense of how much space there was in the lobby. It was impossible for him to get any feeling for the lobby’s boundaries. They could all have been out on the moor, exposed to whatever forces lived in the dark, and the wild. Alistair could feel the hackles rising on the back of his neck, like the cold caress of an unwanted hand. As though some ancient primeval part of him was sure that something had come among them, on some unknown purpose. And suddenly, all Alistair could think was how easy it would be for someone to die, alone in the dark, with no one to protect them.

And then all the lights came back on, filling the lobby with a bright glare, and everything was back where it should be. Everyone looked quickly around to confirm there was no one else present, and then relaxed in a general clamour of relief, followed by laughter.

‘You see,’ said Alistair, not even trying to hide the relief in his voice. ‘It’s just us.’

Alice rounded on Norman. ‘That was your fault, filling our guests’ heads with all that nonsense about myths and legends. No wonder people started thinking they could see and hear things.’

‘But I hadn’t heard about any stories,’ said Giles. ‘I didn’t know there was anything to be scared of.’

They all stopped, and looked at him.

‘You probably glanced at something on the website,’ said Alistair. ‘And just maybe you’re not as materially minded as you used to be.’

‘Don’t bet on it,’ said Giles, forcing a smile.

‘Please follow me into the bar, where your meal will be served,’ Norman said quickly.

‘And leave the myths and legends behind,’ said Diana.

THREE

Is There Anybody There?

The hotel bar turned out to be a fair-sized room that was clearly as much restaurant as bar, with a number of tables standing around empty as though waiting for guests who’d never turned up. Or, Alistair thought, perhaps for the guests Diana and he had displaced when she booked the entire hotel. He did his best not to feel guilty about it. Needs must when the media drives. Norman and Alice led the way to a large circular table in the middle of the room, with a shining white tablecloth, a patterned china dinner service, and even a vase of freshly cut flowers as a centrepiece. The correct number of chairs had been arranged around the table, all considerately drawn back.

‘Please,’ said Norman, gesturing expansively at the table. ‘Make yourselves comfortable, ladies and gentlemen, while Alice and I attend to the food.’

‘I’m afraid that since we have no staff this weekend,’ said Alice, ‘in accordance with our celebrity guests’ need for extreme privacy, we don’t have our chef with us tonight. So, the meal will be a cold collation of cut meats, with side salads, prepared by our chef in advance.’

‘Oh really!’ said Charlotte. ‘This is too much! We came all this way and we can’t even have a hot meal?’

Edward looked at her sternly for the first time. ‘We have to bow to Diana’s needs in this matter, my dear.’

Charlotte immediately beamed at her daughter. ‘Oh, of course, darling. We quite understand. The media pressure can be so exhausting …’

Alistair wasn’t sure Charlotte did understand, or even gave much of a damn, but thought it best not to say anything as he helped Diana seat herself. He settled down beside her while Edward took the chair next to him, so he could put some distance between his wife and the Bishop. Alistair appreciated the gesture. Charlotte made more of a production sitting down than if she’d been the Queen at her coronation, and then looked a little put out as she realised no one had noticed. Edward shot a brief smile at Alistair, who nodded solemnly. Charlotte looked disparagingly around the bar, as though to make it clear she was slumming it just by being there, and then smiled grandly at Edward.

‘Do you remember that night at the Ritz, darling?’ she said loudly. ‘When the Marquis of Ravensbrook drank champagne from my slipper?’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Edward. ‘Poor man nearly drowned.’

‘I’ve seen that photo,’ said Diana. ‘Must have been … four, five years before I was born?’

Charlotte looked deliberately in another direction, and then perked up a little when Giles sat next to her, but he only had eyes for Eliza as she sat down next to him. The two of them chatted cheerfully together, in the vague way of people who’ve only met because they have friends in common. Crispin settled himself comfortably into the last remaining chair, between Eliza and Diana.

‘Now then,’ said Norman, the perfect host. ‘What would everyone like to drink?’

Charlotte brightened. ‘Is there a wine list?’

‘I already asked that, dear,’ said Edward.

‘Sorry, darling, I wasn’t listening,’ said Charlotte.

‘I’m afraid all we can offer is house red or house white,’ said Alice.

‘Charlotte will have the white,’ said Edward. ‘She always does.’

‘Because it goes with everything!’ snapped Charlotte. ‘Red can be so overpowering …’

‘You’d know,’ said Diana.

Crispin looked hopefully at Norman. ‘You did mention real ales …’

Norman beamed approvingly. ‘We can offer you Dragon’s Breath, Old Hobson’s Particular, or Death By Hops.’

Crispin’s eyes gleamed. ‘I think I’ll try the Dragon’s Breath.’

‘An excellent choice,’ said Norman.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Charlotte said regally. ‘I’ll have a large Campari with a slice of lemon.’

Norman looked around for more orders, saw the others were still thinking, and quickly retired behind the main bar to slice up a lemon with a wide-bladed knife, while Alice quickly headed for a side door that presumably led to the kitchens. Norman filled a glass with Campari, dropped in the lemon slice, and bore the drink proudly over to Charlotte, who just sipped at it without even looking at him. Norman went back to the main bar.

Conversations rose and fell around the table, as everyone waited for the meal to arrive.

‘They’d better be really big portions,’ said Giles, ‘because I have one hell of an appetite.’

‘You haven’t changed,’ said Alistair.

‘Don’t put money on it,’ said Giles, grinning. ‘But right now, I could eat an entire horse and gnaw on its hooves.’

‘Must be the sea air,’ said Diana.

‘I haven’t even seen the sea yet,’ said Giles.

‘Oh, you should,’ said Diana. ‘It’s very dramatic. And only a short walk.’

‘I don’t walk on water,’ said Giles.

‘Neither do I,’ said Diana. ‘I leave that to the Bish.’

‘I’ve had special shoes made,’ said Alistair.

Charlotte turned to Edward. ‘Perhaps we could go sailing while we’re here?’

Edward smiled regretfully. ‘I’m afraid we didn’t think to bring the yacht with us, dear.’

‘Has anyone inspected the accommodations yet?’ said Crispin. ‘I’m hoping for a good old-fashioned goose-feather bed, rather than one of those trendy firm mattresses that always mess my back up.’

‘The rooms looked very comfortable on the website,’ said Diana.

‘So did the chapel,’ said Crispin.

Alistair smiled and nodded whenever a comment was lobbed his way, but didn’t feel like joining in. Something about the bar felt a little odd, though he was having trouble putting his finger on what the problem was. He finally realised there was no background music playing. He was so used to hearing it in bars and restaurants that the absence was strangely off-putting. Diana leaned across to him, and Alistair inclined his head to hers as she lowered her voice.

‘So, what do you make of my parents?’

Alistair chose his words carefully. ‘Very … impressive.’

‘Yes,’ said Diana. ‘They’re good at that. You mustn’t take Mummy too seriously. She’s never at her best when she’s in a setting where she can’t rely on everyone knowing what she used to be famous for. Daddy usually finds it safer to only expose Charlotte to her fans. She knows how to cope with them. Once she settles down, you’ll get to see more of the real her.’

‘Will that be a good thing?’ said Alistair.

‘Sometimes,’ said Diana. ‘She’s lived her legend for so long she tends to lose track of who she really is. Or perhaps she just prefers not to remember. Daddy is fine; he’s always good company. And still an excellent actor, when he gets the chance. But these days he’ll only accept a role if there’s a part for Mummy too, and that limits him. He’s dedicated himself to looking after her.’

Alistair wanted to ask why that was so necessary, but Diana sat back in her chair and looked round the bar, lost in her own thoughts. Charlotte talked loudly to the table in general, about past triumphs and future plans, while Edward just nodded now and again to prove he was paying attention.

Giles expounded cheerfully on the big industry award he’d just won, for pushing a product Alistair hadn’t even heard of. Eliza did her best to seem impressed. Alistair had to smile. Giles had always been able to sell himself best of all. He had happy memories of convivial gatherings at bars and restaurants, and endless talks about religion and politics – none of which ever went anywhere. He and Giles were always sparking off each other, happy to spend time in each other’s company because everyone else seemed so slow … Alistair missed those days. Or perhaps he just missed being young and starting out in life, when anything seemed possible if you just put your shoulder to the wheel.

He listened in unobtrusively as Eliza offered her services to Giles as a producer and director, for his next big campaign. Giles was polite but not at all encouraging, and said no repeatedly to Eliza’s series of increasingly desperate ideas. In the end, she just sat back in her chair and sulked, while he pretended not to notice.

Alistair looked at Crispin, who was staring incuriously round the table, taking in all the conversations but apparently not feeling any need to take part. He didn’t seem all that happy to be there, and Alistair realised for the first time that Crispin was tired and worn out after his long drive down, and would probably have avoided dinner and gone to his room early if Norman and Alice hadn’t taken charge of things. Alistair was struck by the difference in age between the man before him and the man he remembered. The Canon had never seemed old before. Crispin looked round suddenly, caught Alistair’s eye on him and smiled wryly, as though he knew just what Alistair was thinking.

Crispin waited for a pause in the conversation and then plunged into a series of stories from when he first knew Alistair at Cambridge, tall tales of bad conduct and good nights out on the town. All around the table people nodded and laughed agreeably. Alistair had heard all the stories before, but was no longer sure just how much of them were true. He felt oddly diffident around Crispin. His memories were of the relationship between a young student and his tutor, but now they were both older, they seemed to have moved closer to being on an equal footing. Alistair thought there was something just a little sad about that.

Norman and Alice came back into the bar pushing a heavily loaded hostess trolley ahead of them. Large silver salvers held sliced cold meat, artfully arranged, and deep bowls of healthy if rather unimaginative salads. The Makepeaces moved quickly round the table, making sure everyone got as much as they wanted, and then plonked down half a dozen bottles of assorted red and white, along with the glasses. Finally, Norman carefully placed a foaming steel tankard before Crispin, who took a good sip and then grinned broadly. Norman actually preened a little, proud as though he’d brewed the stuff himself. Everyone dug in hungrily, while Norman and Alice beamed happily about them and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Charlotte had loaded up her plate with far more than she could possibly eat – either because she thought she was entitled to it, or simply because it was there.

‘I believe in the benefits of a healthy appetite,’ she announced to the table at large.

‘You always have, dear,’ said Edward.

The cold cuts were perfectly pleasant, but that didn’t stop Charlotte from complaining, often with her mouth full. She also talked extensively about wonderful meals she’d enjoyed in splendid hotels and restaurants, most of which Alistair was pretty sure didn’t exist any more, until finally, Diana took pity on the table and intervened.

‘What happened to all those diets you used to follow, Mummy? I can remember you trying pretty much all of them at one time or another, including a brief flirtation with the idea of tapeworm eggs.’

‘They were all the rage at the time,’ Charlotte said coldly.

‘I had to put my foot down there,’ said Edward.

Charlotte glared at him, and then at Diana. ‘I do not need to diet. I am the perfect weight for my height.’

‘Only because you’re wearing heels,’ said Diana.

Charlotte went back to shovelling in her food. As long as it kept her from talking, everyone else seemed happy to go along with the situation. Edward shot an apologetic look around the table, and Alistair got the impression this was something he often had to do. The meal ended with dessert – ice cream, traditional flavours only – and that was when the Makepeaces urged everyone to stay in their seats as they cleared the plates away.

‘We have arranged a special entertainment for you,’ said Alice.

‘We don’t put this on for just anyone,’ said Norman. ‘But you strike us as the kind of people who would appreciate it. We’re going to hold a séance!’

There was complete silence around the table. Everyone looked at each other, lost on how to respond without upsetting their hosts. Alistair was seriously considering, I’d rather die, but thought that might not be in the best of taste.

‘Could be fun,’ said Diana.

‘Oh, darling,’ said Charlotte. ‘You always look on the bright side.’

‘I’ve never believed in spiritualism,’ said Alistair. ‘And I’m not sure it’s a suitable subject for entertainment.’

‘Don’t be such a pain, Alistair,’ said Giles. He turned to Crispin. ‘What is the Church’s official position on séances, Canon?’

‘I’m not sure there is an official one,’ said Crispin. ‘I’ve always seen such affairs as little more than a public form of therapy. People ask questions, and receive answers, on subjects they might not feel comfortable raising in any other setting. It’s really just the subconscious mind getting a chance to air its dirty linen in public.’

‘Are you saying you don’t believe there’s anything to be learned from spiritualism?’ said Eliza. ‘You’re supposed to convince us on the value of religious belief!’

‘Religion is a matter of faith, not credulity,’ said Alistair. ‘Just because you believe in one thing, doesn’t mean you have to believe in everything.’

There was a pause, as everyone worked out the implications of that.

Norman and Alice returned from the kitchen and didn’t seem at all put off by the general lack of approval for their plan. Norman smiled easily round the table, and spread his hands invitingly.

‘There’s no need to worry, it’s just a bit of fun. Something to help break down the barriers between people and discover what they really believe. We’ve had a lot of success with our séances, in the past.’

‘Then why wasn’t it mentioned on your website?’ said Crispin.

‘People can be very judgemental, these days,’ said Alice. ‘That’s why we don’t offer our little entertainment to just anybody.’

‘This really doesn’t sound like our sort of thing, darling,’ Charlotte said to Edward. ‘Couldn’t we simply escape into town for the evening, and scare up some entertainment for ourselves?’

Alice cut in quickly. ‘You could, if you could get a taxi. But there are only two in the town, and they’re always very busy of an evening.’

Charlotte turned to Crispin. ‘You could drive us into town, in your vintage Rolls.’

Crispin smiled easily. ‘Sorry. The car’s resting.’

Charlotte looked at him, unsure how to respond. It was Norman’s turn to cut in.

‘Besides, it’s such a long way from here to town, that by the time you got there you’d pretty much have to turn around and come straight back again. We lock the hotel’s front door at midnight.’

‘And we don’t open up again for anything until it’s light,’ said Alice.

‘Why not?’ Eliza said curiously. ‘Who do you need to keep out?’

‘Or should that be what?’ said Giles, grinning mischievously. ‘Are you afraid the Pale Rider might come barging in, and demand a late-night drink?’

‘It’s just a reasonable precaution, in this day and age,’ Norman said stiffly.

Edward shrugged heavily to Charlotte, in a way that suggested he felt he’d done all that could reasonably be asked of him.

‘So we might as well stay here, my dear, and make the most of the proposed entertainment.’

Charlotte wouldn’t even look at him. Just sat back in her chair, folded her arms, and sniffed loudly.

‘Oh, don’t make such a fuss, Mummy,’ said Diana. ‘I can remember when you used to be up for anything that even sounded like being fun.’

Charlotte looked a little stung by that. She immediately sat up straight and did her best to appear ready for anything. Crispin cleared his throat, in a way that made everyone look at him.

‘I’ve always taken a keen interest in the occult …’

‘You like ghost stories!’ said Alistair.

‘No heckling from the back, please,’ said Crispin. ‘The history of the Church has walked hand in hand with the history of spiritualism. The séance reached the peak of its popularity during Victorian times, when the advances in science led to people wondering if the Church was failing in its duty to provide them with equal certainties. Particularly with regard to what comes next. So, people went to séances for information as well as entertainment, in a kind of do-it-yourself approach to religion. But every séance comes with its own built-in dangers.’

‘Are you afraid we might call up something we couldn’t handle?’ said Giles, grinning around the table.

‘I was thinking more that such ventures often encourage the unconscious mind to speak openly about inner turmoil and troubles,’ Crispin said sternly. ‘There are those who find people’s reactions to such personal revelations a source of amusement; I do not. But I won’t oppose the séance, as long as no one takes it too seriously.’

‘Exactly!’ said Norman.

‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ insisted Alice.

Norman waited for her to remove the vase of flowers, took a firm hold on the heavy tablecloth with both hands, and then swept it away in a single magnificent gesture. Everyone applauded loudly as he bundled it up and followed his wife and the hostess trolley back through the side door and into the kitchen. Alistair and Diana, Charlotte and Edward, Giles and Eliza and Crispin were left sitting around a gleaming well-polished wooden table, smiling at each other in a self-conscious sort of way.

Norman and Alice quickly returned, pulled up two chairs for themselves, and positioned them between Crispin and Eliza. Everyone else had to budge up and crowd together to make room. Alice settled herself comfortably next to Crispin, while Norman moved quickly around the room, checking everything was as it should be while turning off the odd light here and there.

‘Are we going to hold hands?’ Charlotte said cheerfully. ‘How wonderfully intimate!’

She smiled at Giles, sitting next to her. He didn’t smile back.

‘If everyone would please take the hands of those sitting next to them,’ Alice said firmly. ‘It helps to foster a group feeling and ensure proper protection. We’re not going to be summoning terrible spirits from the vasty deeps, but we will be reaching out to see what presences might be listening.’

‘And you think that’s a good idea?’ said Alistair.

‘Knock it off, Alistair,’ said Giles. ‘Don’t be such a spoilsport.’

‘You used to have more sense than this,’ said Alistair.

‘You used to be more fun,’ said Giles.

‘My wife had quite a reputation as a medium, in her youth,’ said Norman.

‘It’s a gift,’ Alice said modestly.

Norman shut down more lights, until only a handful remained to illuminate the small gathering. Shadows filled the bar and closed in around the table. For Alistair, the room took on a new, much larger feeling with its boundaries concealed in the gloom. As though they were sitting in a small island of light, surrounded by an ocean of darkness, and just the faintest sense of something large and dangerous rising slowly up out of the depths. Not for the first time, Alistair cursed his over-abundant imagination. He took a quick look around the table. Everyone had some kind of uncomfortable smile, as they reached out to take hold of the hands beside them, while self-consciously avoiding each other’s gaze. Norman came back to the table, looking inordinately proud of the atmosphere he’d created.

‘Do sit down, dear,’ said Alice, ‘so we can make a start.’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Norman.

He sat down beside her, smiling apologetically at everybody. Alice looked round the table, to make sure everyone was holding hands. Charlotte was the last holdout, but eventually Edward grasped her hand firmly, and she took hold of Giles’s hand before he could pull it out of reach.

‘And now, we can begin,’ said Alice. Her voice was suddenly lower, and more resonant. ‘Please just sit still, remain calm, and leave the driving to me. Perhaps nothing at all will happen. Or perhaps something will. Either way, I think I can promise you an interesting experience.’

She closed her eyes and breathed steadily. Norman looked at her proudly. Everyone else peered round the table to see how the rest of the group was taking it. No one looked like a believer, but they were all doing their best to present calm and politely engaged faces. Even Charlotte seemed to be taking an interest. And Alistair thought, Could the Makepeaces be putting this on because of my and Diana’s experiences with the weird and unusual? Are they looking for the infamous Holy Terrors to do something that will become part of the entertainment, so they can milk it for the publicity afterwards?

Diana leaned in close to him, and lowered her voice to a murmur. ‘If the Makepeaces do anything to embarrass us, I will put a report on Tripadvisor so incendiary it will set fire to the hotel.’

‘Pull no punches,’ said Alistair.

‘I never do,’ said Diana.

Norman shot them a reproachful look, and they sat quietly.

It became very quiet in the bar. The silence stretched, becoming heavy with possibilities. Every time someone eased their position or stirred restlessly in their chair, the sound seemed very loud.

Alice sat very still, her eyes closed, her face empty. Alistair glanced around the bar. It seemed to him that there were more shadows than there should be, and that they were deep and dark enough to hide all manner of mysteries. He was reminded of the scene in the lobby when the lights went out and Giles almost sparked a general panic by insisting he could feel someone else’s presence in the dark with them. And Alistair had to wonder what was going to happen this time.

He had a strong sense of imminence, of something hanging on the air, waiting to happen. He looked at Diana to see if she was feeling the same thing, but she seemed entirely at her ease. She saw the worry in his face and smiled reassuringly. He squeezed her hand in return.

Alistair told himself harshly that he didn’t believe in any of this supernatural nonsense, but still couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of being watched, by unseen eyes. Part of him wanted to snatch his hands free and stand up, breaking the circle and preventing the séance. To say loudly that this was no business for grown adults and he wouldn’t have any part of it. But he didn’t want to make a scene, or embarrass himself in front of Diana, and most of all, he didn’t want the others to think there was anything to be worried about. So he made himself sit still, and told himself it was all just part of the Makepeaces’ idea of entertainment, a special show put on for special guests, that the strained atmosphere he was feeling was only inside his head.

He glanced around again, unobtrusively checking what he could see of the bar to make sure they really were on their own. He wouldn’t put it past Norman and Alice to have a few servants hidden away, just waiting for their chance to produce some suitably spooky noises in the background, to ensure the séance would be a night to remember. Alistair wondered when he’d started being so paranoid, and then he remembered the strange cases he and Diana had been involved with, and had to smile for a moment.

Still, why was he so convinced something was about to happen? Was it just the result of too much experience with murders and mysteries? He searched the surrounding shadows carefully. The other tables were still empty, their chairs pushed in close. None of the walls had any windows, and the only exits were the side door that led to the kitchen, and the main door that led to a narrow corridor and the lobby. Everything in the bar was so quiet now that Alistair had no doubt he’d be able to hear anyone creeping around, even if he couldn’t see them.

Alistair looked down sharply, as Diana suddenly squeezed his hand. He turned in his seat to look at her.

‘Alice is sitting very still,’ Diana said quietly. ‘She hasn’t said a word, or moved at all, in quite a while.’

‘All part of the medium’s stock-in-trade,’ said Alistair. ‘It helps them appear mysterious.’

‘But look at her face, Bish. There’s nothing going on there, like nobody’s home.’

‘So she’s a better actor than we expected. Look, her husband is sitting right next to her. If there was anything to worry about, Norman would have said something by now.’

Diana nodded slowly, and shot him a quick smile, to show how annoyed she was at letting the atmosphere get to her. Alistair was just relieved he wasn’t the only one.

He looked round the table, to see how everyone else was doing. Edward looked bored and wasn’t putting much effort into hiding it. Charlotte was clearly thinking about something else, probably herself. Giles was frowning, and clearly ill at ease. He kept glaring around with sudden jerks of his head, as though half convinced something was moving just out of the corner of his eye. Eliza caught Alistair looking at her and shot him an uncertain smile. As if to say, Are we having fun yet? Alistair showed her a non-committal smile in return. Crispin didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Alice or Norman or his surroundings, lost in his own thoughts.

Alistair tried to remember if he and Crispin had ever discussed spiritualism, back in their student and tutor days, but was pretty sure the subject had never come up. Neither of them had ever had much time for the mystical side of religion. Martyrs and miracles, levitating monks and nuns with stigmata, had all seemed like relics of an earlier age, and nothing at all to do with the Church they believed in.

Norman was gazing attentively at his wife, like a member of an audience waiting for the conjurer to do a card trick. Alice’s face was completely empty, as though no one was home. Alistair was reminded of an old joke from his seminary days: It’s never a good idea to keep an open mind. Because you can never be sure what might walk in.

‘Alice is deep in her trance now,’ Norman said quietly. ‘Soon she will start to reach out, to whatever might be listening in the night …’

He was interrupted by a sudden loud noise. Like someone knocking at a door. Everyone’s head came up as they turned to look.

‘Don’t let go of each other’s hands!’ Norman said quickly. His voice had risen, and sounded actually alarmed. ‘Don’t break the circle. It might not be safe.’

‘Who’s that knocking at the door?’ said Giles, in an only half-joking sort of way.

They all turned right round in their seats, to look at the main door. It was standing wide open, allowing a clear view into the gloomy corridor beyond. There was just enough light for them to be sure the corridor was completely empty.

‘I would have sworn that door was closed,’ said Giles.

‘It could have just swung open,’ said Diana. ‘Doors do that.’

‘And nobody saw it?’ said Giles.

‘We did all hear that knocking sound, didn’t we?’ said Eliza.

‘It sounded like someone asking to be let in …’ said Giles.

‘Edward,’ Charlotte said quietly, ‘I don’t think I like this.’

‘Hush, dear,’ said Edward. ‘It’s just part of the show. Embrace the theatricality of it all.’

Charlotte glared at him. ‘This isn’t the theatre!’

The knocking came again, several loud thudding noises in a row, that seemed to issue from all around the bar. People swivelled in their seats, turning their heads back and forth as they tried to figure out where the sounds were coming from. There was nothing to indicate who or what might be responsible for them. The only one at the table who didn’t move, or react in any way, was Alice. Her eyes were still closed, her face entirely undisturbed. The noises stopped abruptly, and the quiet returned. Alistair looked at Norman, who was looking shocked and confused. Alistair could think of a dozen ways such sounds could be produced, that owed nothing to do with contact from the Other Side. But he stopped himself before he could say anything, because of the growing unease he could see in the man’s face.

‘Norman,’ Alistair said quietly, ‘is this part of the entertainment?’

‘No,’ Norman said shakily. ‘Nothing like this was supposed to happen. Alice was just going to put on a bit of a show, do a few voices.’

‘Could what we’re hearing be just creaks or settling noises from the hotel?’ said Alistair.

‘I know what my own hotel sounds like!’ Norman said angrily. He turned to his wife. ‘Alice, dear? Alice, you need to wake up!’

She didn’t stir. Her head had inclined forward, and her face had fallen into shadow. There was no sign she’d even heard Norman. He started to pull his hand away from hers, so he could take her by the shoulder, and then hesitated, and didn’t. Alistair jumped a little as Diana gave his hand a hard squeeze.

‘Did you feel that, Bish? It suddenly got cold in here. And I mean really cold. Could someone have left a window open?’

‘Look around you,’ said Alistair. ‘There aren’t any windows.’

Diana looked around the table. ‘Did anyone else feel the temperature drop?’

Everyone made some sound of agreement. Alistair could feel the hackles rising on the back of his neck. More knocking noises broke out all around the bar, loud enough to make everyone jump. The last few seemed to come from the table itself, as though something was hammering on its underside. Without letting go of his neighbours’ hands, Giles leaned right over to peer under the table, and then straightened up again and shook his head quickly.

‘There’s nothing there.’

‘What did you expect?’ said Eliza, almost angrily. ‘How could anyone have got under the table to make knocking noises, without our seeing them?’

‘I was thinking more of some kind of mechanism,’ Giles said coldly. ‘But I didn’t see anything that could have done the job.’

Charlotte pushed her chair as far back from the table as she could get without letting go of anyone’s hand, and looked to Edward with a pale pinched face.

‘I don’t like this. I really don’t like this!’

‘Steady, dear,’ said Edward. ‘Just go with the flow. This could be leading us somewhere very interesting.’

Alistair looked at him. ‘You seem very calm, Edward. Would I be right in saying this isn’t your first séance?’

‘I’ve attended quite a few, in my time,’ said Edward. ‘On my own. Charlotte wasn’t interested. Experiences like this are nothing new to me. You mustn’t let any of it get to you. They’re just sounds.’

‘Then you must know how easily such phenomena can be faked,’ Alistair said steadily.

‘I do indeed,’ said Edward. ‘Most séances are often just another kind of show business. But what’s happening here doesn’t feel like that.’ He looked steadily round the table. ‘None of us are in any danger as long as we keep our seats and hold on tight. Together, we are protected. Let’s see where this goes.’

‘Aren’t we supposed to ask if it’s one knock for yes, or two for no?’ said Diana. ‘I’m just trying to get into the spirit of things.’

‘I don’t think it’s that kind of knocking,’ said Alistair.

One side of the table suddenly rose up a good foot or more, before crashing back down again. People cried out, sounding genuinely upset. Alistair concentrated, struggling to figure out how the table-lifting could have been faked. But his thoughts kept crashing to a halt every time he remembered Giles saying there was no mechanism of any kind under the table. Eliza suddenly struggled to pull her hands free, and started to rise from her chair.

‘I am not going to just sit here, while all this is happening!’

Giles held on to her hand grimly. ‘Don’t! You could put all of us in danger.’

‘From what?’ Eliza said loudly.

‘I just think we’ll all be safer if we stick together,’ said Giles.

Eliza looked to Norman, who nodded quickly. She dropped back into her chair and wouldn’t look at anyone else, as though angry at herself for losing control. Diana turned to Alistair.

‘I’m not feeling anything out of this world. Are you?’

Alistair shook his head. There was nothing happening that couldn’t have been set up in advance by people who knew what they were doing. This whole thing had been the Makepeaces’ idea, and they had chosen the setting. But why would they do it? What profit could there be, in scaring everyone into giving up on the wedding and leaving early? They must know Diana would insist on a complete refund.

There was a sudden sound of glass breaking, from behind the main bar. Everyone’s head snapped round to see what was happening.

‘It’s all right!’ Norman said quickly. ‘I saw it! It was just a glass falling off the bar.’

A chair leaning against the table next to them suddenly toppled over and lay on its side, rocking slowly back and forth.

‘How is that even possible?’ said Giles, his voice rising. ‘No one was anywhere near it!’

Alistair glared around the bar, but still couldn’t see anyone who could be responsible for what was happening. The shadows surrounding the séance table seemed much darker, as though something of the night had entered the hotel.

Everything went quiet. Nothing moved. All Alistair could hear was harsh breathing from around the table, and all he could see were a great many wide eyes and frightened faces. Except for Crispin, who was frowning hard, and Diana, who looked steadily back at him to make it clear none of it was getting to her. She seemed too interested to be scared. Alistair relaxed, a little. He should have known it would take more than a few weird happenings to unsettle Diana.

Norman leaned in close to Alice and said her name loudly. She didn’t react. The room remained quiet.

‘Has it stopped?’ Charlotte said querulously. ‘Is it over?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Edward. ‘I think that … was just the overture.’

And then everyone’s head came up, at the sound of hoofbeats somewhere off in the distance. Quiet, muffled, but quite distinctive.

‘A horse?’ said Diana. ‘Oh, come on, you have got to be kidding me …’

‘It’s the Pale Rider,’ said Giles, ‘racing around on the moors.’

‘Stop it!’ said Eliza. ‘Just stop it!’

‘That’s only a story!’ Norman said desperately. He pushed his face right in close to his wife’s. ‘You have to wake up now, Alice! It’s all going wrong!’

There was no response. Alice’s head remained slumped forward, her face hidden in shadow.

‘The hoofbeats are getting closer,’ said Giles. ‘The Rider has left the moor …’

Everyone sat very still, gripping each other’s hands so hard it hurt. Charlotte was whimpering. The hoofbeats drew nearer and nearer, becoming impossibly loud, until the Rider was racing round and round the hotel, as though looking for a way in.

Edward tried to comfort Charlotte. Crispin murmured a quiet prayer. Alistair turned to Norman.

‘I thought the Pale Rider was only ever seen on the moor?’

‘I don’t understand what’s going on here!’ Norman said miserably. ‘Nothing like this has ever happened before.’

The hoofbeats finally slowed to a halt, right outside the front door of the hotel. Everyone slowly turned their heads, to look at the corridor that led to the lobby. The tension around the table was almost painful. And then the hoofbeats resumed, moving slowly and purposefully forward, into the hotel lobby. The sound of hooves on wooden floorboards was horribly clear and echoing.

‘God save us all …’ said Giles. ‘It’s got in …’

‘You should have let me go!’ said Eliza.

Giles glared at her. ‘Where could you have gone, that a thing like that couldn’t find you?’

Eliza glared right back at him, her face suddenly flushed.

‘If that thing comes anywhere near me, I will kick its stupid skull in!’

Giles laughed unpleasantly. ‘It’s dead. I don’t think it’ll care.’

Charlotte suddenly fought to pull her hands free and jump to her feet, but Edward clamped his hand down hard and wouldn’t release her.

‘Let go of me, damn you!’ said Charlotte.

‘Do you want to attract its attention?’ Edward said harshly.

Charlotte dropped heavily back onto her chair. All the colour was gone from her face, leaving her make-up to stand alone in blotches of colour.

Diana looked at Alistair. ‘All of this could be faked.’

‘I know,’ said Alistair. ‘I read the same article in the Fortean Times on mediums that you did.’

‘But do you think that’s what’s happening here?’ said Diana.

‘Beats the hell out of me,’ said Alistair.

Diana laughed despite herself. ‘Language, Bish.’

The hoofbeats left the lobby and advanced steadily down the connecting corridor. A fierce light blasted through the open door, and on the far wall of the bar, there suddenly appeared the shadow of a skeleton rider on a skeletal horse. Crispin jerked both his hands free and rose sharply to his feet. He produced a crucifix from an inside pocket, thrust it at the open door, and launched into the opening words of the Protestant ritual of exorcism. His voice was full of spiritual authority, and the words seemed to thunder and resonate on the air.

Alistair freed his hands too, and rose to his feet. He held his crucifix out before him and joined in the exorcism. His voice was steady, and his gaze never left the light issuing from the open door, as he stood ready to face whatever came through it. And then all the lights went out. It was completely dark, with not a glimmer of light anywhere. All around the table, people cried out and jumped to their feet. Alice screamed. And all the lights came back on.

Norman had somehow found his way through the darkness to the main switch. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

The menacing shadow on the wall was gone, but Alistair could still remember every detail of it: the dead Rider on his dead horse … There was no sound of hoofbeats, inside the hotel or out onto the moor. Alistair strode over to the open door and stared down the corridor, brandishing his crucifix before him. Diana was right behind him, peering past his shoulder. The corridor was completely empty, leading to a lobby that was also utterly deserted.

Alistair could just make out the front door. It was closed. Nothing to show it had ever been opened. He knelt down and studied the wooden floorboards.

‘What are you looking for?’ said Diana. Her voice was perfectly steady, but Alistair could feel the tension in her hand as it gripped his shoulder.

‘Hooves from a horse that big should have left marks on the floorboards,’ he said slowly. ‘But I’m not seeing any.’

‘Good thinking, Bish,’ said Diana. ‘But would a ghost horse leave marks? Even a skeleton horse?’

Alistair got to his feet again and looked at her steadily. ‘Do you believe that’s what happened?’

‘I’m not sure what I believe, right now,’ said Diana.

‘I am,’ said Alistair. ‘And it doesn’t include a ghost horse made of bones.’

He realised he still had his crucifix in his hand. He murmured a quick prayer of thanks, put it away, and went back into the bar. Edward was comforting a weeping Charlotte as she clung desperately to him. Diana went over to join them, and Charlotte reached out blindly for her hand. Giles and Eliza were standing together, trying to look in all directions at once. Crispin was looking at the crucifix in his hand as though wondering how it had got there. He put it away and managed a small smile for Alistair.

‘I’m amazed I remembered the words. It’s a long time since I had to learn them.’

‘Some things just stick in your mind,’ said Alistair.

‘I honestly never thought I’d have to perform an exorcism,’ said Crispin.

‘I’m not so sure we did,’ said Alistair. ‘We never got to complete the ritual; the phenomena just stopped.’

Crispin looked at him steadily. ‘Do you believe any of what we just experienced was real?’

‘It seemed real enough,’ Alistair said carefully. ‘But not everything is always what it seems.’

Crispin nodded. ‘You should know.’

Norman looked round angrily, from where he was still trying to rouse his wife.

‘Are you accusing us of faking what just happened?’

‘Somebody could have,’ said Alistair. ‘Pre-recorded sounds, light shows, wires attached to objects … All we actually saw was a shadow on the wall.’

‘Right,’ said Diana. ‘We have been here before. And it always turned out to be someone messing with our heads, to keep us from seeing what was really going on.’

‘But who would want to frighten us?’ said Eliza.

She seemed to have thrown off her sense of dread in favour of being angry, at least partly at herself, for having believed. If only for a moment.

‘I have lived in this hotel for ten years,’ Norman said stubbornly. ‘And I have never known anything like this to happen before.’

‘It all seemed pretty real to me,’ said Giles. He sounded genuinely shaken, and ready to argue with anyone who wasn’t.

Eliza nodded to Diana, and tried a smile that didn’t quite come off.

‘You certainly picked an interesting spot for your wedding.’

Diana grinned back at her. ‘You got that right. Oh, Alistair, the tabloids are going to love this! It has all the makings of a story we can sell for serious money!’

‘Even if we can’t explain it?’ said Alistair.

Diana shrugged. ‘The editors won’t care. A spooky story, and weird photos from our wedding in the chapel? They will pay through the nose for the chance to splash something like this all over their front pages!’

Charlotte looked disbelievingly at Diana. ‘You don’t mean you’re actually intending to go ahead with your marriage in this awful place?’

‘I am getting married in the morning,’ said Diana. ‘And nothing in this world or any other is going to stop me. You’re welcome to leave, if you want. I’m sure the Canon will give you a lift into town, under the circumstances.’

‘Of course,’ said Crispin. ‘But then I’m coming straight back. I have every intention of marrying the two of you tomorrow.’

‘We are not going anywhere,’ Edward said firmly. ‘It will take more than some odd noises and an old-fashioned spook show to stop us attending our daughter’s wedding. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?’

She seemed to acquire strength from her husband’s firmness, and nodded slowly.

‘Of course. We failed you so often in the past, Diana. We won’t let you down now.’

Alistair turned to Giles, who made a clear effort to pull himself together.

‘I don’t know what just happened,’ he said slowly. ‘But I suppose … it could have been just smoke and mirrors.’

‘I didn’t see any smoke,’ said Eliza. ‘But I’m still staying.’

Alice groaned unhappily, and everyone turned to look at her. She sat up slowly, supported by her husband.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Norman said tentatively.

‘I seem to have nodded off,’ said Alice. ‘I must have been even more tired than I thought. Don’t fuss, Norman, I’m fine.’ She looked around at her guests. ‘Did something just happen?’

‘Don’t you remember?’ said Alistair.

Alice frowned. ‘I think I was dreaming …’

‘But how do you feel?’ said Crispin.

Alice frowned, troubled. ‘Like something bad is going to happen …’

FOUR

First The Show, Then The Storm. Then The Murder.

Even though the excitement seemed to be over for the night, no one felt like going to their rooms. They sat around the bar in small groups, drinking fresh drinks provided by the Makepeaces and loudly discussing what had just happened. Alistair sat with Diana at one table, Edward with Charlotte at another. Eliza had been left sitting rather uncomfortably with Giles, while Crispin kept to himself, apparently lost again in his own thoughts. Norman and Alice kept a watchful eye on everyone, from behind the main bar. Alistair thought Norman had the look of a man who felt he should be saying something, but didn’t know what. Alice mostly looked confused, and angry that her moment in the spotlight had been sabotaged by some very unforeseen circumstances.

Alistair and Diana sipped their drinks unhurriedly. Of all the people in the bar they were the least affected by what they’d been through. They’d both seen more than their fair share of apparently supernatural events, all of which had turned out to have devious but perfectly everyday explanations.

‘The ghosts on that television show,’ said Diana.

‘The standing stones at Chipping Amesbury,’ said Alistair.

‘The real witch in Macbeth,’ said Diana.

‘Ghosts and demons and curses, oh my,’ Alistair said lightly.

‘That séance did make a hell of an impression,’ said Diana. ‘But even I can see ways in which most of those effects could have been manufactured.’

Alistair nodded sagely. ‘Pre-recorded tapes, activated by remote control, to supply the sounds of things moving around, inside and out. Because right up until the end, we never actually saw anything.’

‘Apart from the chair … But someone could easily have attached a length of wire and tugged on it, to make the chair fall over,’ said Diana. ‘And then removed it later when no one was looking, which was why I couldn’t find it.’

‘I saw you checking,’ Alistair said approvingly. ‘And the table rising up could just have been someone’s knee. I still think it’s significant that when I searched the corridor for hoofmarks, there weren’t any. That horse sounded really big and really heavy, and skeletal or not, it should have left some trace of its presence behind.’

‘I thought I was coping quite well until that shadow appeared on the wall …’ Diana shuddered dramatically. ‘It looked so convincing …’ And then she stopped, lost for anything more to say.

Alistair stepped quickly in to rescue her. ‘You’ll have noticed it didn’t hang around long enough for us to examine it properly. Just come and gone in a moment. And I think the giveaway there was the bright light that suddenly appeared in the corridor, because without it there wouldn’t have been any way to project the image.’

‘Nice one, Bish,’ said Diana. ‘So, everything we experienced in the séance could be explained away. But are you convinced that’s all there was to it?’

‘I’m still thinking about that,’ said Alistair. ‘There’s no denying some of it felt disturbingly real.’

‘There was a definite feeling of terror, and even real dread, in the bar,’ said Diana.

‘Hardly surprising,’ Alistair said dryly. ‘Most of the people present were scared out of their wits because they’d been hit so hard and so often. Fear and panic can be very contagious. The more I think about it, the more it seems to me that each event was designed to follow quickly after the one before, building and building until the séance hit its peak with the grand appearance of the Pale Rider. As though the whole damned thing had been scripted.’

‘I don’t know …’ said Diana. ‘We’ve been exposed to so much fakery we’re always looking for the man behind the curtain. But what if we’ve finally run into the real thing?’

‘You’re supposing there is a real thing,’ said Alistair.

Diana looked at him squarely. ‘Do you believe in the supernatural, Bish? After all, you believe in so many things.’

‘I am prepared to accept the existence of the supernatural,’ Alistair said steadily. ‘But the universe has so far failed to provide any evidence solid enough to convince me.’

‘That doesn’t really help,’ said Diana.

‘I know,’ said Alistair.

He looked across the bar at Giles, sitting slumped in his chair and scowling into his drink as he did his best to ignore Eliza.

‘My old friend there seemed particularly spooked, which is odd, because I remember him being very level-headed. We used to have long talks in the seminary about the weirder fringe elements of faith and religion, and he was always the first to come up with a rational answer and laugh away any story he couldn’t disprove.’

‘He’s not laughing now,’ said Diana.

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘He isn’t. I suppose it’s one thing to discuss the unexplainable side of life because it’s interesting, and quite another to have the supernatural shove its bony face right into yours. Poor Giles … I don’t suppose writing persuasive ad campaigns for things people don’t really need does much to help you cope with a Pale Rider. Even if you have just won an award.’

Diana looked at him sharply. ‘Bish, you’re not jealous of your old friend’s success, are you?’

‘I’m trying very hard not to be,’ said Alistair.

Diana smiled suddenly. ‘I was so proud of the way Eliza started out scared, and then pushed it to one side and got angry.’

‘Eliza …’ said Alistair. ‘Is that actually her real name?’

‘Her mother was a big fan of My Fair Lady,’ said Diana.

‘Good job it wasn’t the Rocky Horror Picture Show,’ said Alistair.

Diana nodded, but didn’t smile. She considered her glass of wine thoughtfully, and then pushed it to one side and glowered around the bar, as though daring it to throw anything else at her. Alistair decided she could use some time to herself, and took the opportunity to listen in on Giles and Eliza at the next table. Giles seemed to have realised that since Eliza was sitting right next to him, he should make some effort at being good company. He smiled brightly and clinked his wine glass against hers.

‘Allow me to congratulate you, for standing up so bravely under fire at the séance. I was impressed.’

Eliza stared back at him, without even a trace of a smile. ‘Is that right?’

‘Of course!’ said Giles. ‘You didn’t just defy the supernatural, you actually threatened it!’

‘While you just sat there, and did nothing,’ said Eliza.

Giles looked at her. Eliza’s voice had been flat and hard, as though daring him to say the wrong thing.

‘I was so freaked out I didn’t know what to do,’ Giles said reasonably. ‘It was all so outside of anything I’m used to.’ He tried the charming smile again. ‘In fact, I am almost certainly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I might even be in urgent need of tender loving care …’

‘Don’t push your luck,’ said Eliza.

‘Oh, come on, it’s traditional,’ said Giles, trying for a light touch and not coming within a mile of it. ‘The best man is always supposed to get off with the bridesmaid at a wedding.’

Eliza put down her drink and leaned forward across the table so she could glare right into his face.

‘You didn’t do anything!’

‘What was I supposed to do?’

‘Anything!’ said Eliza.

Giles sat back in his chair and stared out across the bar without really seeing it. ‘I wasn’t myself.’

‘Pretty sure you were,’ said Eliza.

Giles took his time turning back to face her. Two small spots of colour burned on his cheeks as he struggled to control himself.

‘I was caught off guard! By the time I even started to get my head together, it was all over! How are you supposed to cope with things that hit you out of nowhere?’

‘A better man would have stood up to be counted,’ said Eliza. ‘But you just sat there, trying hard not to wet yourself.’

Giles stared at her, genuinely shocked. ‘Are you really still mad at me, just because I wouldn’t hire your low-rent production team for my next campaign?’

Eliza threw her drink in his face, and while he was still sputtering, she got up and stalked off to join Edward and Charlotte at their table. Giles jerked a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped at his face. He glared at Eliza but made no move to go after her. Alistair relaxed a little, glad he wasn’t going to have to intervene, and concentrated on listening to what was being said at the new gathering.

‘Welcome to the civilised corner of the bar, my dear,’ said Edward, gallant as ever. ‘Nice aim with the wine. I would have clubbed him with the bottle, myself.’

‘He really would,’ Charlotte said cheerfully. ‘I’ve seen him do it.’

‘The thing is, he’s partly right,’ said Eliza, scowling sullenly at nothing in particular. ‘I was mad as hell that he didn’t want to hire me. I needed that gig.’

‘We’ve all been there, dear,’ said Charlotte.

‘Speak your mind, Eliza,’ Edward said easily. ‘You’re among friends here.’

Eliza nodded quickly to him and then turned to Charlotte, adopting her most professional smile.

‘It’s so good to meet you! I’ve enjoyed so many of your films. They were required watching when your daughter and I were at film school together.’

Charlotte blossomed immediately under the kind of attention she saw as her due, and smiled warmly at Eliza.

‘Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine. Particularly one with such obvious good taste. Might I have seen some of your work?’

Eliza thought quickly. ‘I made a series of short promotional films for the National Trust, about preserving some of the lesser known but still very beautiful parts of the English countryside.’

Charlotte sat up straight, and only just remembered to put down her drink before clapping her hands together delightedly.

‘I remember those! Oh my dear, I absolutely adored them. If you can get any more of those wonderful little films off the ground, I would be delighted to do the voice-overs! I am always available for anything with a touch of quality!’

‘I can just hear your voice, over my images,’ Eliza said enthusiastically. ‘And of course, your name would be a great help in getting a new series commissioned.’

Edward watched all of this silently, and kept his council to himself.

The two women carried on chatting, and were soon giggling happily together as they poked fun at how everyone else had reacted to the increasingly weird events at the séance – very definitely including Giles, who pretended he couldn’t hear the raised voices and concentrated on his drink.

‘I was just a teeny bit frightened myself,’ Charlotte confided.

‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ said Eliza. ‘Everyone was upset.’

‘But my dear,’ said Charlotte, ‘you stood up to it! You threatened to attack it! I would never have had the nerve.’

‘I don’t know if I would actually have done anything,’ Eliza admitted. ‘It was all in the heat of the moment.’

‘My dear,’ Charlotte said firmly, ‘it’s the thought that counts.’

‘So,’ said Eliza. ‘If I could get some more short films authorised, can I count on your support?’

Charlotte hesitated, and then looked across the table to Edward. She saw the message in his eyes and turned back to Eliza.

‘Talk to my agent.’

Edward sat back in his chair, nursed his drink, and watched the two women approvingly. It didn’t bother him one bit that Eliza was clearly laying on the charm and the praise in the hope of attracting a celebrity to her next project. Edward was used to that. Enthusiasm cost nothing, and kind words and promises weren’t in any way binding. And there was always a chance Eliza might be able to put a deal together … He was just pleased to see Charlotte glowing in the kind of regard she deserved. He listened quietly as the two women laughed and chattered, and if he did feel a little excluded, he honestly didn’t care. He was just pleased Charlotte had someone new to talk to, so he could take a break. Much as he loved his wife, there were times when he felt he deserved some time off for good behaviour.

He realised his glass was empty, rose to his feet and wandered over to the main bar. Charlotte and Eliza didn’t even seem to notice. The moment Edward put his empty glass down on the polished wooden bar top, Norman was right there to refill it.

‘Quite a show tonight,’ Edward said casually.

‘We can’t take any of the credit,’ said Alice, moving quickly in to hover beside her husband. ‘None of what happened was anything to do with us. We had a very different entertainment planned.’

‘You were going to do your voices, weren’t you, dear?’ said Norman.

‘I’m very good at them,’ said Alice. ‘I do a great Voice From Beyond.’

‘Looking forward to it, weren’t you, dear?’ said Norman.

‘I don’t always get the chance,’ Alice confided to Edward. ‘You need the right receptive audience.’

‘Still,’ said Edward, ‘I have to admire the dramatic impact of the Pale Rider’s appearance. Who knew the old spook would have so much theatricality in him?’

He suddenly realised that both of the Makepeaces were yawning, despite themselves, and seemed half asleep on their feet.

‘You look worn out,’ said Edward. ‘Why don’t you just turn in? I can tend the bar, in your absence. I’ve a lot of experience in that department.’

Norman straightened his back and shook his head firmly. ‘Oh no … Thanks for the offer, but we couldn’t possibly allow that.’

‘The hotel is our responsibility,’ said Alice. ‘And looking after our guests is far more important than anything else.’

‘We’re rather old-fashioned, in some ways,’ said Norman.

Edward looked at them thoughtfully. ‘Be honest, has anything like that séance ever happened here before?’

‘Not a damned thing,’ Norman said flatly. ‘I never believed any of the stories about the Pale Rider, before this.’

‘I was just going to put on a bit of a show,’ said Alice. ‘I like doing my voices.’

‘And so you should, dear,’ said Norman. ‘You were doing very well tonight, until you were interrupted. Who knew you still had the makings of a real medium lurking inside you?’

‘It did bring back memories of the old days,’ said Alice, ‘back when I was a child prodigy … But I didn’t really do anything tonight.’

‘Don’t put yourself down, dear!’ said Norman. ‘Think of all the people who’ve come here and stayed out all night on the moor, just hoping for a glimpse of the skeleton on his horse … And then you go into a trance, and it barges right into our bar!’

‘More likely it was just a combination of the right people in the right place,’ said Alice. ‘I’d put my money on it being something to do with the Holy Terrors. Hanging around so much weird stuff must have rubbed off on them. But I doubt we’ll ever see anything like that again. Or at least, I hope not.’

‘You do look exhausted, dear,’ said Norman. ‘Just hang on a little while longer, and then we’ll close up for the night.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ said Alice.

They smiled at each other comfortably, and then Alice fixed her gaze on Edward. He couldn’t look away, held by something cold and implacable in her eyes.

‘I do wonder if I might have called up something. There was a definite presence in this room. I could feel it, even after I’d come out of my trance.’

‘Try not to think about it, dear,’ said Norman.

He took her by the arm and led her off to the other end of the bar. Edward looked back at Charlotte and Eliza, who were still giggling together like teenagers at a slumber party. He sighed, and stayed at the bar with his drink. He was already working on how best to reproduce the events of the séance as a stage show, supported by all the very best in special effects. Shows like that were extremely popular, just at the moment. Charlotte would take the lead, of course, as a much more active version of the medium, while he would play the level-headed hero who dismisses all the ghosts and saves the day. Properly produced, in the right venues, a show like that could be a real earner … provided he could find the necessary startup funding.

Diana tapped Alistair firmly on the arm, to draw his attention back to her, and pointed out her father sitting alone at the bar.

‘Go and talk to Daddy. This is your big chance to get to know your prospective father-in-law. Now he’s separated himself from Mummy, I think you’ll find him a lot easier to talk to.’

Alistair looked dubiously at Edward. ‘He seems quite happy on his own. I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘Go and talk to the man,’ said Diana, just a bit dangerously. ‘Make friends. Pat him on the head, shake his paw, throw a stick for him; I don’t care. Just get it done.’

‘Yes, dear,’ said Alistair. Because he knew a lost cause when he heard one.

He moved over to the bar and sat down beside Edward, who acknowledged his presence with a nod.

‘So, most excellent Bishop and Holy Terror, what is your take on tonight’s little extravaganza? Was it the real thing, or just someone playing games in the dark?’

‘What do you believe?’ said Alistair. It helped that he was genuinely interested in the old actor’s opinion.

‘I wouldn’t put it past our genial hosts to have manufactured some supernatural flummery, to impress their celebrity guests,’ Edward said calmly. ‘So we could spread the story of the Pale Rider far and wide when we leave, and lure in more people to boost their takings.’

‘The thought had occurred to me,’ said Alistair. ‘As to how real it might have been … I haven’t made up my mind. All the evidence isn’t in yet.’

Edward sipped carefully from his glass and set it down thoughtfully on the coaster provided.

‘My boy, it’s all nothing but humbug. I know a theatrical performance when I see one.’

Alistair grinned at him. ‘I’m sure you do, sir.’

‘Stop that. You can call me Edward, and I will call you Alistair, if only because I’m damned if I’ll call you Bishop or Your Holiness. Now … I don’t know who set all of that nonsense up, or why, but someone was quite definitely running a ghost-train ride on us. I have attended many séances, and experienced a great many strange goings on – everything from projectile-vomited ectoplasm, to apparitions that could apparently walk through walls but still managed to stumble over the furniture, to musical instruments that played themselves. Badly.

‘I remember one particular medium who levitated herself out of her seat and ended up pressed against the ceiling. Couldn’t get down again. We had to climb on chairs and pull the poor lady back down, and of course that’s when we discovered the hidden support wires that had got out of control. The point is … just like you and Diana, I have come face to face with the apparently weird and uncanny on a number of occasions, and while there have been times when I experienced things I couldn’t properly explain … I’m not ready to take anything for granted. What we just experienced struck me as just a little too on the nose for my liking. Do you see?’

‘My thoughts entirely,’ said Alistair. ‘Who knew we would have so much in common?’

‘Well, my daughter certainly suspected,’ Edward said dryly. ‘That’s why she sent you over here. She is so desperate for all of us to be the big happy family she is convinced she missed out on, though I remember her as a perfectly happy child. Perhaps you can provide her with the everyday support we couldn’t, because we were always too busy working. A career can make you famous, it can even make you rich for a time, but it can’t love you back.’

Alistair nodded slowly, sensing he was on dangerously thin emotional ice, and carefully returned the conversation to its original subject.

‘But why would anyone want to throw a scare into us?’

‘You’re in a better position to answer that one than me,’ said Edward. ‘You’ve been in this kind of situation before, where everything depended on you being able to tell what was real and what wasn’t. However … perhaps our dear hosts thought that if they could involve the wildly popular Holy Terrors in a real spooky story, that would be something they could sell to the tabloids.’

He chuckled briefly at the look on Alistair’s face. ‘Where do you think Diana learned how to run rings around the media? Her mother and I have been bamboozling editors and turning their needs to our advantage for decades. We taught our girl everything she knows, whether she likes to admit it or not.’

He looked across at Charlotte, laughing with Eliza as though she didn’t have a care in the world, and his shoulders slumped a little.

‘You mustn’t let Charlotte get to you,’ he said quietly to Alistair. ‘It’s just that … she’s not good at being in company any more. She’s not good at being spontaneous. Unless she’s dealing with fans, when she can always fob them off with the same old anecdotes. As she’s got older and looks less like the image of herself she has in her head, she’s grown increasingly insecure among people she doesn’t know.

‘I do my best to support her, but it’s like trying to fill a bottomless hole. She hates not being young any more, not being a great star any more. Most of all, she hates feeling that the world has moved on and left her behind. Which is, of course, pretty much how you define getting old. But still, put Charlotte on a stage or in front of a camera, and the old magic is still there. She just has to fight harder for chances to prove it. I do my best to make sure she’s always working on something, even when it’s blatantly not worthy of her. She doesn’t care. She just needs to feel needed.’

‘Apparently it is very important to Diana that I get on well with both you and my prospective mother-in-law,’ said Alistair. ‘So … how do I get on Charlotte’s good side?’

Edward snorted into his drink. ‘If you find out, let me know. Basically … just listen patiently to her as she bangs on about her many triumphs, and she’ll be perfectly happy to talk your ear off. But always be ready to stand up to her, or she’ll walk all over you. She can be merciless to anyone she thinks she can intimidate.’

‘Thanks for the encouragement,’ said Alistair. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me …’

He left Edward sitting at the main bar with his drink and his thoughts, and went over to join Crispin, sitting alone at his table. Crispin had a tall glass of something rustic in front of him, but didn’t seem very interested in it. He nodded absently to Alistair as he sat down, as though not quite ready to emerge from his thoughts.

‘This is a fine hotel you’ve brought me to, my boy,’ he said finally. ‘Every flavour of the supernatural, right up close and in your face, grabbing you by the lapels and giving you a good shake to make sure you’re paying attention.’

‘Excellent work with the crucifix earlier,’ Alistair said lightly. ‘And a first-class stab at an exorcism, I thought.’

Crispin smiled, and immediately looked a lot more focused.

‘Not a service I ever thought I’d be called upon to provide …’

‘Do you think any of what just happened was real?’ Alistair said bluntly.

‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Crispin. ‘If it wasn’t, someone went to a lot of trouble to convince us it was. And why would they want to?’

‘It could be linked to Diana and I being the Holy Terrors,’ said Alistair. ‘Celebrities, even as minor as us, are always seen as fair game and ripe for exploitation.’

‘Are you still intent on getting married in the chapel tomorrow?’ said Crispin.

‘Believe it!’ said Alistair. ‘Diana and I have waited a long time for this, and we are not going to be scared off by anything. Mind you, the moment you declare us man and wife, Diana and I will be getting the hell out of Dodge. A haunted hotel is no place for a honeymoon.’

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Crispin. ‘Come the morn, I will marry the pair of you with great satisfaction, amid all the atmosphere that amazing old chapel can be persuaded to offer up. And then I’ll give you both a pedal-to-the-metal ride into town.’

‘We’re having a few photos taken, during the ceremony,’ Alistair said apologetically. ‘Is that going to be a problem for you?’

Crispin smiled. ‘Just make sure they get my good side.’

They talked a little longer, about nothing in particular, and once Alistair was sure Crispin was no longer brooding, he got up and went to join Giles at his table. They sat quietly for a while, sometimes looking at each other and sometimes not, both of them searching for something to say.

‘I think you’ve blown your chances with Eliza,’ Alistair said finally.

‘I know!’ said Giles.

‘What were you thinking?’ said Alistair.

‘Clearly, I wasn’t,’ said Giles. ‘All of that weird stuff really threw me. I had no defence mechanism. Never thought I’d need one. And I really don’t think Eliza has any idea of just how scared I was. It was getting genuinely close to a brown time in trouser town. I think she was angry because I didn’t try to protect her, like some knight in shining armour, so she was forced to do it herself, and now she’s scared the rest of you will figure out she was bluffing.’ He shook his head disgustedly. ‘The sooner you and the Actress get married, the better. Then we can all sprint like hell for the horizon. This place gives me the creeps.’

Eliza stood up, leaned over to embrace Charlotte, and then turned to address the entire bar.

‘I’m going to my room now. And I just want to make it very clear that if any ghostly figure should turn up along the way, I am perfectly ready to drop-kick it through the nearest wall.’

Giles got to his feet. ‘I could always walk you to your room …’

‘No, you couldn’t,’ Eliza said flatly. ‘Stay away from me, and look after yourself, because that’s all you’re good for.’

She strode out of the bar, not looking back. Giles sat down again, and said nothing. Everyone else pretended to take an interest in their drinks. Because real emotional cruelty is always embarrassing to witness.

Edward went back to his wife, with a glass of wine in one hand and a fresh bottle in the other. He arranged both carefully on the table before them. Charlotte immediately started talking to him as though she hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone. And perhaps she hadn’t. As always, the conversation was all about her. She never even mentioned her new best friend, Eliza. Because for Charlotte, it would always be out of sight, out of mind. Edward just nodded now and again, and allowed the tide of words to flow over him.

Giles went over to the main bar, ordered another large drink from Norman, and brought it back to his table. He slumped down beside Alistair and then looked at his drink as though wondering why he’d ever thought he wanted it.

‘I have no excuse for making such a bad showing,’ he said quietly. ‘I just hate all that supernatural stuff. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I dropped out of the seminary. The more we were introduced to the spiritual side of things, the more I realised how out of my depth I was.’

‘Better to discover that at the beginning, than at the end,’ Alistair said solemnly. ‘Allowing for the occasional downturn in the market, are you happy being a titan of the advertising industry?’

Giles thought about it. ‘You know, I really think I am. It took me a long time to work out what I’m good at. I take a lot of pride in knowing that with the right approach, I can convince anyone of anything. Hell, with the right campaign, I could talk all four legs off a donkey and then teach it to Riverdance.’

He stretched, yawned, and smiled tiredly.

‘Right, that’s it, I am going to bed. Though I may have to jam a chair under the door handle and sleep with all the lights on. See you in the morning, Alistair.’ He managed another smile, this one a little more convincing. ‘And you’re just going to love my best man’s speech.’

He walked out of the bar without offering a goodnight to anyone, and didn’t glance back once. No one seemed to care he was leaving, and that troubled Alistair. The Giles he remembered had always been popular, the life and soul of every convivial gathering. Time brings in its revenges …

After a while he went back to Diana, who immediately asked, ‘How did you get on with Daddy?’

‘Fine, fine,’ said Alistair, settling himself comfortably and looking hopefully around for something to drink. ‘I think I passed the audition.’

‘You’d better wait till morning before you talk to Mummy,’ Diana decided. ‘She’ll have calmed down a lot by then.’

‘If this whole Pale Rider thing was faked …’ said Alistair.

‘Oh, dear God,’ said Diana. ‘Are we really back to that?’

‘It does raise the question of who was behind it,’ said Alistair. ‘Your father suggested it could all be a tabloid sting, aimed at us. Trying to create a modern-day ghost story so the hotel could cash in on the Holy Terrors.’

‘That would be Daddy’s first thought,’ said Diana. ‘For him, it’s always been about getting the media’s attention … But think of how much planning and advance preparations would have to go into setting up such a show. And we only decided we were coming here a few days ago.’

‘But the sting only makes sense if it’s aimed at taking advantage of our reputation as the Holy Terrors,’ said Alistair.

Diana scowled. ‘I just come up with the ideas. It’s up to you to make them work.’

‘It is always possible that everything we saw was the real deal,’ said Alistair.

‘Oh, Bish,’ said Diana, ‘don’t tell me you’ve become a true believer in the Church of Things That Go Boo! in the Night?’

‘Not yet,’ said Alistair. ‘But I am thinking about it.’

And then they both broke off and looked round sharply as a great storm fell upon the hotel, like a dog on a rat. There was no warning, just a sudden downpour of rain so heavy it could be heard through the walls. A great blast of wind hit the hotel so hard the entire building shuddered, followed by a massive roll of thunder. Deafening storm winds howled around the hotel like some great beast desperate to find a way in. The lights flickered, and bottles rattled loudly at the back of the main bar.

‘That is a storm with its boots on,’ said Alistair. He gave Norman and Alice a hard look. ‘There was nothing about this kind of weather on the website.’

‘On the contrary,’ Alice said immediately. ‘We’re famous for our storms, down here on the coast.’

‘Famous,’ said Norman.

Charlotte didn’t actually swear, but looked like she wanted to. She rose to her feet and glared around the bar, as though searching for someone to blame. Edward stood up and murmured comfortingly in Charlotte’s ear until she subsided a little, and then he led her out of the bar.

‘You just get your head down, dear, and by the time you wake up in the morning it’ll all be over.’

‘It had better be,’ said Charlotte.

They left the bar. Crispin finished his drink, more with a sense of duty than because he was actually interested in it, and rose slowly to his feet.

‘A very good night to one and all! I am for my bed, to rest my weary bones, because I’m going to need my full eight hours if I’m to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I marry my young friends in the morning.’

Alistair and Diana wished him goodnight, and there were respectful murmurs from Norman and Alice. Crispin waved vaguely and left the bar, apparently still deep in thought. Alistair would have given a lot to know exactly what Crispin was thinking so hard about. He nodded to Diana.

‘Time for us to go, as well.’

‘To our separate rooms?’ said Diana.

‘Not for much longer,’ said Alistair.

Diana grinned. ‘Counting the hours, Bish. Would you care to escort a lady to her room?’

‘Love to,’ said Alistair.

They made their goodnights to the Makepeaces, but just as they were leaving the bar, the lights flickered heavily and most of them went out. Heavy shadows fell across the tables and chairs, and just like that it was as dark as it had been during the séance.

‘Nothing to worry about!’ Norman said quickly. ‘It’s just something that happens every time there’s a storm. We always lose a few lights when the wind gets to blowing. But they always come back!’

‘It’s very rare that we end up losing all the lights,’ said Alice. ‘And never for long!’

Alistair leaned in close to Diana. ‘Is it wrong of me that I don’t find any of that reassuring?’

‘Not in the least,’ said Diana. ‘After everything that’s happened, something like this had a certain air of inevitability about it.’

‘You said you were happy with this hotel,’ said Alistair.

‘One more word from you on that subject,’ Diana said coldly, ‘and I will find a way to stick you with the bill.’

‘You always did know how to fight dirty,’ said Alistair.

‘Please don’t let the night’s unusual activities put you off our friendly little establishment,’ said Norman, just a bit plaintively.

‘Your marriage ceremony is still our top priority,’ said Alice. ‘And it will very definitely take place in the chapel, in the morning, as arranged. Rest assured that we will do everything in our power to make it the happiest day of your lives!’

‘Everything,’ said Norman, very firmly. ‘And we will of course provide you with a full display of flowers, along with a complete set of complimentary wedding photographs.’

‘Norman has won awards in the past, for his wedding photographs,’ said Alice.

‘Well,’ said Alistair, ‘that’s good to know.’

‘Remember what we said about first rights,’ said Diana.

‘Time for us to go,’ said Alistair, urging her toward the door.

‘We’ll be turning in ourselves, soon,’ said Norman. ‘Once we’ve finished cleaning up.’

‘Because we have no staff,’ said Alice, just a bit pointedly, ‘I’m afraid we can’t offer any room service at night.’

‘I’m sure we’ll manage,’ said Alistair.

He led Diana through the corridor that connected the bar to the lobby. Most of the lights weren’t working thanks to the storm, and shadows gathered around them.

‘At least we can just about see where we’re going,’ said Diana.

‘But I’m still not seeing anything to prove a rider on a horse came this way,’ said Alistair. ‘No hoofmarks, no scuffs and scrapes, and no ectoplasmic horse doo-doo.’

‘Well,’ said Diana, ‘that’s something …’

In the lobby, nearly all of the lights had gone out, and the shadows were very deep and very dark. Almost as though they were hiding something. Once again, there were no signs to show the Pale Rider and his mount had ever passed through. Alistair made a point of checking the front door. It was securely locked.

‘Neither Norman nor Alice were out of our sight long enough to unlock that door and then lock it again,’ said Diana. ‘We would have noticed.’

‘But Norman could have had helpers, lying in wait,’ said Alistair.

Diana frowned. ‘Norman said all the staff were sent away long ago.’

‘Norman says a lot of things,’ said Alistair.

They took it in turns to dig out their old-fashioned metal room keys – all part of the hotel’s antique style and atmosphere – and confirmed that they were in rooms number One and Two.

‘I was going to ask you to book adjoining rooms,’ said Alistair. ‘But I knew I wouldn’t need to.’

Diana smiled radiantly. ‘I’m sure I’ll feel much safer in the night, knowing you’re next door.’

‘I take it everyone in our party is staying on the same floor?’ said Alistair.

‘Naturally,’ said Diana. ‘I didn’t see any point in scattering us round the hotel. You know … according to the hotel website, there are supposed to be some excellent views of the sea from my room.’

‘And we both know how reliable the site is,’ said Alistair.

‘Would you like to see my room?’ Diana said artlessly. ‘Just to check if the view is what it’s supposed to be?’

‘I will,’ said Alistair. ‘After we’re married.’

‘You sweet old-fashioned thing, you,’ said Diana.

She kissed him hard, and then they just stood there for a while, holding each other.

‘Do you ever wonder what our life is going to be like, afterwards?’ said Diana. ‘As the Actress and the Bishop? Because I can tell you for a fact that the tabloids will never let go of a gift like that.’

‘Our life together?’ said Alistair. He smiled briefly. ‘I would say … eventful. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

They laughed comfortably, and shared a smile.

‘Can I hammer on the adjoining wall with my shoe, if something should go bump in the night?’ said Diana.

‘You do, and I will come running,’ said Alistair.

They made their way up the stairs, arm in arm. Half the lights were out, but it was still possible for them to see their way clearly. A number of framed prints on the wall showed pleasant landscapes and a series of old documents covering the history of the hotel. Alistair stopped at the top of the first flight, and leaned in close.

‘Look at this,’ he said. ‘It’s a plan of the hotel’s layout, showing all the rooms. Norman was right: I’m not seeing a room Thirteen anywhere.’

‘You wouldn’t expect to,’ Diana said patiently. ‘You’ll never find a room Thirteen in any hotel these days. People refuse to book it, so the rooms always jump straight from Twelve to Fourteen. Of course, it still is the thirteenth room as you count along, but as long as it isn’t officially called that, people can pretend. In the big hotels, they won’t even have a thirteenth floor.’

‘Really?’ said Alistair.

‘The power of superstition,’ said Diana.

She broke off, as Alistair suddenly raised his head and frowned.

‘What?’ said Diana.

‘Did you hear that?’ said Alistair.

‘Who can hear anything, with the wind howling round the hotel like a banshee in a bad mood?’ said Diana. ‘The storm is shaking the building like a dog shakes a rat. I’m half expecting to wake up tomorrow morning and find the hotel roof ripped right off and lying upside down in the car park.’

Alistair didn’t even look at her. ‘I’m sure I heard something …’

‘All right,’ Diana said patiently, ‘what do you think you heard?’

‘Footsteps,’ said Alistair.

‘Well, we are on the floor where I booked everyone a room,’ said Diana.

‘We need to take a look,’ said Alistair. ‘Something could be wrong.’

‘Of course it could,’ said Diana. ‘We’re here.’

They pushed through the swing door and onto the first-floor corridor. Even fewer lights were working than on the stairs, and the shadows seemed to lurk together as though planning an ambush. Alistair moved steadily forward with Diana beside him, peering into the gloom ahead, and then he stopped suddenly.

‘There! Did you hear that?’

Diana stopped, and listened. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps was clear and distinct, despite the background noise from the storm.

‘Where is that coming from?’ said Diana.

‘I can see the end of the corridor quite clearly,’ said Alistair. ‘There’s no one else here with us. I don’t think the footsteps are on this floor. They’re coming from the next one up.’

They craned their heads back, and stared at the ceiling. The footsteps stopped abruptly.

‘There shouldn’t be anyone up there,’ said Diana. ‘I booked all of us onto this floor, so we could be together.’

‘So there shouldn’t be anyone in the rooms above us,’ confirmed Alistair.

‘There had better not be,’ said Diana. ‘Considering how much I had to pay for the privilege of having this entire hotel to ourselves.’

‘If the Makepeaces had kept on a few staff,’ Alistair said thoughtfully, ‘or sneaked a few friends into the hotel on the quiet, that would go a long way to explaining how they were able to pull off their ghost show so successfully.’

‘It would, wouldn’t it?’ said Diana.

They listened carefully, but the footsteps didn’t start up again.

‘I suppose it is always possible that what we heard was just some kind of delayed echo,’ said Alistair. ‘Vibrations from our own footsteps, travelling up through the wooden stairs to reverberate in the floor above. The sounds have stopped because we’ve stopped moving.’

‘I can always rely on you to be the rational one,’ said Diana.

‘One of us has to be,’ said Alistair. ‘But I still think we should go and check it out.’

‘Of course we should,’ said Diana. ‘Let’s go rattle a few doorknobs and see what we can scare up.’

They hurried up the stairs to the next floor. It didn’t look any different from the one below, with just a handful of the overhead lights still working. Only small pools of illumination remained, surrounded by a whole mess of shadows. Alistair moved slowly forward, studying each door closely, while Diana kept a careful watch on their surroundings.

When Alistair reached room Twelve, he quickly looked ahead to confirm that the next door was Fourteen. But it wasn’t. A small pool of light clearly picked out the number Thirteen. Alistair and Diana stopped before the door, looked at each other, and then back at the door. Alistair reached out a steady hand to the door handle.

‘Hold it, Bish,’ said Diana. ‘Are you really sure you want to walk into a room that’s supposed to eat people?’

‘Does that even seem likely?’ said Alistair.

‘What is there about our life that has ever seemed likely?’ said Diana.

‘Good point,’ said Alistair. ‘But I still want to see what’s in there.’

He tried the handle, but it refused to turn.

‘Locked,’ he said. ‘I suppose it could have been made over into a storeroom, or a closet.’

‘Then why wasn’t it marked on that floor-plan?’ said Diana. ‘And anyway, why give a storeroom a number?’

‘This hotel is playing games with us,’ said Alistair.

Diana shook her head slowly. ‘I know you love a mystery, and normally so would I, but it is really late and I am very tired. Can’t we leave this till the morning? I’m sure the Makepeaces will be only too happy to explain it all at breakfast.’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘I think we need to ask them about this right now.’

‘Oh, come on …’ said Diana. ‘I need my beauty sleep!’

‘But I won’t get a wink of sleep, until I have an answer to this,’ said Alistair. ‘I’m going back down to the bar. You go to your room if you want.’

Diana sighed. ‘Where you go, I go.’

Alistair smiled. ‘I’m going to be made to pay for this at some point, aren’t I?’

‘Like you wouldn’t believe,’ said Diana.

They made their way back down the stairs and into the bar, where they discovered Norman and Alice pushing the last of the chairs up against the main table. The Makepeaces looked round sharply.

‘We didn’t expect to see you again so soon,’ said Alice.

‘Is there a problem with your rooms?’ Norman said tentatively.

‘They were all thoroughly aired,’ said Alice.

‘We just took a look at the second floor,’ said Alistair. ‘And were intrigued to discover you have a room Thirteen.’

‘Is it a storeroom?’ said Diana.

Norman and Alice looked at each other, and then back at Alistair and Diana. They seemed more caught off guard than anything, as though this was a question they’d never expected to come up.

‘We already explained that there is no room Thirteen in this hotel,’ Norman said carefully.

‘It’s all nonsense of course,’ said Alice. ‘But you can’t get anyone to stay in a room Thirteen. The rooms on the second floor go straight from Twelve to Fourteen.’

And then she looked at Alistair and Diana in a what were you doing anyway, sneaking around on the second floor? sort of way.

‘We thought we heard something,’ said Alistair.

Norman and Alice smiled at each other, just a little condescendingly.

‘It’s the storm,’ said Norman. ‘You’re going to hear all sorts of noises once the wind really gets going. Groanings, creakings …’

‘Everything you’d expect to hear in a hotel as old as this,’ said Alice. ‘Please rest assured that everything about this building is perfectly sound. You have nothing to worry about.’

‘There is very definitely no room Thirteen,’ said Norman. ‘The story I told you earlier was just a story, nothing more. You probably just mis-saw the number on the door in the poor lighting.’

‘Quite understandable,’ said Alice.

Alistair was about to say very firmly that he knew what he saw, when Diana stopped him with an unobtrusive hand on his arm. She smiled easily at the Makepeaces.

‘I’m sure you’re right. Sorry to have troubled you. We’ll take another look in the morning, when the light is better. Have a nice night.’

She turned Alistair around and steered him forcibly out of the bar. The Makepeaces called out their goodnights, in a slightly strained will you people please go to bed and give us some peace? kind of way.

Once they were back in the lobby, Alistair pulled his arm free, and looked hard at Diana.

‘What was that all about?’

‘I think we need to be sure of our facts before we commit ourselves to making a fuss,’ said Diana. ‘We can start by taking a really good look at door Thirteen.’

‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ said Alistair.

They went back up to the second floor, and strode quickly through the shadows that half-filled the deserted corridor. The raging storm was still battering away at the hotel, as though searching for weak spots. But now he knew what to listen for, Alistair could also make out all kinds of creaks and groans from the building. None of them sounded anything like footsteps.

He paused outside room Twelve, just to make sure he was in the right place, and then checked out its neighbour. The number on the door was Fourteen. Alistair and Diana stood side by side, staring at the number. There was enough light for them to be sure there couldn’t be any mistake. Alistair looked back at Twelve, and then at Fourteen, but there was definitely no sign of a number Thirteen between them.

Alistair felt a sudden chill deep inside him, as though the rule of reality were being rewritten, and not in his favour. And he had to wonder whether something was standing on the other side of the door, listening to him. And whether this time, the door might open if he tried it, and whatever was waiting would welcome him in, with a terrible knowing smile.

‘We both saw number Thirteen, didn’t we?’ he said finally.

‘I thought so,’ said Diana. ‘But the light down here is pretty bad.’

‘It’s no worse now than it was before,’ said Alistair. ‘I know what I saw.’

‘Then what happened to room Thirteen?’ said Diana. ‘It can’t have just vanished.’

Alistair made himself try the door handle, but room Fourteen remained securely locked. He leaned over and pressed his ear against the door.

‘I can’t hear anyone in there.’

He stepped back, and looked at the door speculatively.

‘Please tell me you are not thinking about kicking the door in,’ said Diana.

‘I have moved beyond thinking,’ said Alistair. ‘If there is something in there, I want to know about it right now.’

‘You can’t do that!’

‘Pretty sure I can.’

‘The Makepeaces will go mental! And you can bet they’ll add the cost of any repairs to my bill. Come on, Alistair, you know as well as I do that there isn’t going to be anything in that room which would explain anything. Wait till morning, and we’ll get Norman or Alice to unlock the door so we can have a good look around.’

Alistair stared at her. ‘How are you going to get any sleep tonight, knowing there’s a mystery here?’

‘With my door locked,’ said Diana.

A scream broke the quiet of the corridor. A man’s voice, raised in shock and horror. It broke off abruptly.

‘That came from the floor below,’ said Alistair.

‘My parents are there!’ said Diana.

Alistair charged back down the corridor and threw himself at the stairs, with Diana pounding determinedly along behind him. They burst onto the first floor to find Giles Mason lying on the floor, half out the open door to his room. There was blood all over the front of his shirt, and more of it had soaked into the carpeting. He wasn’t breathing, and his unblinking eyes stared unflinchingly at nothing.

Alistair knelt beside Giles and took in the single stab wound just under the sternum. He tried for a pulse in Giles’s neck, but couldn’t feel anything. He took off his glasses and held them before the open mouth, but the lenses didn’t fog. Alistair sighed, put his glasses back on, and got to his feet.

‘He’s gone.’

Diana hugged him hard, holding him to her and comforting him as best she could. Alistair looked past her at the body, his face utterly expressionless, and thought, There were so many things I wanted to say to you, so many questions I needed to ask … and now I never will.

Doors opened, up and down the corridor, as first Eliza, then Crispin, and finally Edward and Charlotte emerged from their rooms to see what was going on. They were all wearing some kind of dressing gown, and their hair was all over the place.

‘What happened?’ said Edward. ‘I thought I heard somebody scream!’

‘I thought I was dreaming,’ said Charlotte.

Crispin moved forward a little, to stare at the body. ‘This is no dream.’

Eliza put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.

Alistair pushed Diana gently away from him. Everyone took one look at his face and immediately quietened down. Alistair studied each of them carefully in turn. It bothered him a little that his first response was to look for suspects, but someone had just murdered his friend.

‘Why did it take you so long to get out here?’ he said harshly. ‘Diana and I got down from the second floor before any of you made yourselves known.’

‘Take it easy, my boy,’ said Crispin. ‘We were all in bed, and asleep. And we had to get dressed. Is Giles really dead?’

‘Murdered,’ said Alistair.

‘Could it be some kind of trick, like the séance?’ said Eliza.

Diana looked at her. ‘He’s dead, Eliza.’

Charlotte buried her face in Edward’s chest. She’d appeared in enough murder movies to know how to show the proper grief. Edward patted her shoulder. Eliza just stared at Giles, as though she’d never seen him before. Crispin sighed, and looked sternly at Alistair.

‘Can’t you go anywhere, without stumbling over a murder?’

‘I am starting to wonder,’ said Alistair. ‘But this is different. Giles was my friend.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Crispin. ‘That was thoughtless of me.’

He bowed his old head, and murmured a prayer for the dead. There was the sudden sound of feet pounding up the stairs, and then Norman and Alice finally made their appearance.

‘Who the hell was making such a racket at this time of night?’ Alice said loudly.

And then she broke off, as she saw what had happened to Giles. Her eyes became very wide. Norman started to put an arm round her, but she shrugged it off, refusing to be comforted. Norman looked at her sadly, and then gave all his concentration to the body.

‘You’d better call the police,’ said Alistair.

‘We can’t,’ said Norman, unable to tear his gaze away from the dead man. ‘Ever since they switched all our phones to digital, they cut out whenever the power supply is interrupted. We don’t have a landline any more.’

‘I have my mobile,’ said Diana.

‘It won’t work,’ Alice said numbly. ‘This whole area is a dead spot.’

Diana looked at Alistair. ‘Didn’t you just know she was going to say that?’ She glared at the Makepeaces. ‘I really think that should have been mentioned on the website, don’t you?’

‘If we did, no one would come!’ Alice said sharply. ‘And normally it doesn’t matter. All you have to do is drive down the road to town, and you can find a signal there.’

‘We are a long way from anywhere,’ Norman said defensively. ‘That’s part of the attraction. Most people come here in search of peace and quiet. I’ll get the car out, and drive into town.’

‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Alice said immediately, tearing her gaze away from Giles. ‘Drive on that road, in the dark, during a storm like this? It’s not safe. You wait till morning, and go then.’

‘Yes, dear,’ said Norman. ‘You’re quite right, of course.’

‘I should think so,’ said Alice, and then took the bite out of her voice by allowing him to put an arm around her, after all.

‘What are you afraid of?’ said Diana. ‘That Norman might bump into the Pale Rider?’

Alice glared at her. ‘There are no lights lining that road, all the way into town, so you can’t even see a curve until you’re right on top of it. And the storm’s blowing so hard it could easily slam the car into one of the boundary walls and flatten it. No, my Norman is not going anywhere in these conditions.’

‘Where were both of you, when you heard the scream?’ said Alistair. ‘Still in the bar?’

‘We have our own apartment, at the back of the lobby,’ said Norman.

‘Then I suggest you go there, and lock yourselves in till the morning,’ said Alistair. ‘The storm should have blown itself out by then, and Norman and I can go into town. I take it there is a police station?’

‘A small one,’ said Norman. ‘Only the one officer on duty. But they’ll be able to contact the right people.’ He looked away from the body, and then back again, as though hoping something might have changed. He made a small helpless gesture. ‘Is there nothing we can do for him?’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘He’s dead.’ He looked round at the others. ‘You’d better all lock yourselves in for the night.’

‘Put the security chain on,’ said Diana. ‘And then jam a chair up against the door. Don’t open the door to anyone till it’s morning.’

Edward nodded quickly, and steered Charlotte back to their room. Eliza hugged herself tightly, and went back to hers. Crispin finished his prayer, crossed himself, and turned to Alistair.

‘Is there anything more I can do?’

‘Just keep yourself safe,’ said Alistair.

Crispin nodded tiredly, and went back to his room. From all along the corridor came the sound of doors closing and locks turning. Alistair waited till everything was still, and then knelt down beside Giles’s body.

‘Goodbye, old friend. I wish we’d had more time together.’

Diana put a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘We don’t have to get involved in this, Alistair. We could just leave it to the police.’

‘After everything that’s happened in this hotel?’ said Alistair. ‘It would take us ages just to brief them on all the weird stuff. And I have no doubt it’s all connected, somehow. No. By the time the police get here, I want to be able to tell them what’s really going on. I was never that good a friend to Giles when he was alive. Perhaps I can do better now he’s dead.’

He rose to his feet, and looked at Giles’s half-open door.

‘Someone must have knocked, waited for him to appear, and then attacked him.’ He took a moment, to look carefully around him. ‘Strictly speaking, I should leave him where he is. This is a crime scene. But that feels wrong, somehow. Disrespectful. And he was my friend for so long …’

He picked Giles up and carried him into the room. Diana went after him, and closed the door quietly behind them. Alistair laid Giles on the bed, and arranged him neatly. Then he stepped back and studied the body.

‘One stab wound, under the sternum and into the heart. Immediately fatal.’

‘By someone who knew what they were doing?’ said Diana.

‘At such close range, I doubt it would have made much difference,’ said Alistair. He leaned over the body for a closer look. ‘There are no defensive wounds on the hands or arms, so he never got a chance to fend off his attacker. Suggesting he knew who they were, and didn’t see them as a threat until it was too late.’

‘So it couldn’t have been a stranger, or an intruder,’ Diana said steadily. ‘It has to be one of us.’

Alistair nodded absently. He looked round the room, and then gestured at the suitcase standing by the bed.

‘He hadn’t even got around to unpacking. And unlike everyone else, he hadn’t got ready for bed yet. I wonder why.’

‘Maybe he was expecting someone?’ said Diana.

‘That would explain why he opened his door so easily,’ said Alistair.

‘Do you have any idea who might have killed him?’ Diana said carefully.

‘We all saw Giles arguing with Eliza …’ Alistair said slowly.

‘She would never do something like this!’ said Diana. ‘I’ve known her for years. She doesn’t have it in her.’

‘Anyone will do anything, under the right circumstances,’ said Alistair. ‘Or when driven by the right motives. And it could help to explain why Giles didn’t see her as a threat. He could have been too busy thinking about something else.’

‘But why would she go to his room, at this hour?’ said Diana. ‘After the way she’d treated him?’

‘Maybe she just couldn’t get over the unfairness of how she’d been treated,’ said Alistair.

‘You think this was revenge?’ Diana shook her head firmly. ‘Rejection is a regular part of the business. You never take it personally. And a knife to the heart practically shrieks personal.’

‘Anyone can be pushed too far,’ said Alistair.

‘What about your friend, Crispin?’ said Diana. ‘It seemed to me that he and Giles didn’t get on.’

‘I think, even caught by surprise, Giles would have no trouble holding off a frail old stick like Crispin,’ said Alistair. ‘I’m not pointing the finger at anyone, just yet. I’m more interested in the fact that he was killed by a single wound, straight to the heart.’

Diana’s heart leapt as she made the connection.

‘You’re thinking about the dagger from the chapel!’

‘Flying Justice,’ said Alistair. ‘Created to strike down the guilty who evade justice. But what could Giles possibly have done, to deserve such supernatural retribution? No … Someone is trying to distract us from what’s really going on, and using the local mythology to do it.’

Diana frowned. ‘Could this killing be connected to all the weird stuff we experienced during the séance?’

Alistair nodded slowly. ‘Maybe the whole point of that séance was to fill our minds with the supernatural, so that when we found the body we’d immediately think of the flying dagger.’

‘Oh, come on!’ said Diana. ‘A dagger that rips itself free from a stone scabbard, breaks out of the chapel, finds its way through the hotel to Giles’s room, and knocks on the door with its hilt?’

‘Doesn’t sound very likely, does it?’ said Alistair. ‘But after everything that’s happened so far …’

‘You are not thinking of going out to the chapel to see if the dagger has been moved, are you?’ said Diana. ‘Don’t you dare! There’s a major storm going on outside! You’d end up drowned before you got anywhere near it! You wait until morning, and the storm has moved on. Then take a look inside the chapel, if you must.’

‘Of course,’ said Alistair.

He picked up Giles’s key from the bedside table, escorted Diana out into the corridor, and locked the door. He then led Diana to her own room, and kept a careful watch on the corridor until she was safely inside. He waited a moment, to hear her lock her door and put on the security chain. And then he walked briskly along the corridor, back down the stairs and out into the lobby. On his way to the chapel.

FIVE

Looking For Answers In The Darkest Places

Most of the lights were still out in the lobby, and shadows hid most of it, giving the open space a strangely unfamiliar feel – as though he was trespassing in some hidden part of the hotel, where weird and uncanny things happened as a matter of course. Alistair instructed his imagination very firmly to shut the hell up and headed for the front door. Which was, of course, locked. He turned away and looked quickly round the lobby.

He didn’t want to go wake up the Makepeaces and demand they unlock their front door just so he could have access to the chapel; they’d be bound to ask why and he didn’t want to tell them. They’d almost certainly refuse, and then find some tactful way to call him a damned fool for wanting to go out into the storm at this time of night. But he really wasn’t in the mood to be told he had to wait until morning, so he decided it was probably best not to disturb them.

Alistair thought for a moment, and then moved over to the reception desk at the rear of the lobby. There was enough light back there for him to see what he was doing, but not enough to feel comfortable. He kept a watchful eye on his surroundings as he rummaged through the drawers, most of which turned out to be stuffed with paperwork. He pulled out handfuls of the stuff, just to reassure himself the Makepeaces weren’t hiding anything important from him, and then stopped abruptly, suddenly seized by a feeling that he wasn’t alone. His mind’s eye showed him the Pale Rider on his skeletal horse, tiptoeing silently across the lobby to sneak up on him from behind and peer over his shoulder … He turned abruptly to look, and of course there was nothing there. He had to work hard to suppress a loud snort of laughter. He didn’t want to wake anyone.

He leafed quickly through the papers he’d found, not because he expected them to reveal anything useful, but simply because it was always better to know something than not know it. It didn’t take him long to discover that most of what he was looking at were unpaid bills, some of them seriously large, and most of them going back months. It would seem the Pale Rider hotel wasn’t even a little bit the amazing success story that the Makepeaces had been boasting about. No wonder they’d been so keen to accept Diana’s block booking for the weekend. It would also explain their desperate attempts to put on a good show to entertain their guests, culminating in the highly eventful séance. Could they have engineered all the supernatural elements simply to give their guests a thrilling story to tell when they left, to lure in more visitors?

Alistair put the papers back, and dug through drawer after drawer until finally he discovered a large key ring, each key helpfully tagged with a hand-written label. One was marked Chapel, another Front door. Alistair sent a silent thank you to the Makepeaces, carefully eased both keys off the ring, and then put it back where he’d found it. He made sure all the drawers were properly closed, and smiled briefly. He’d never thought he had it in him to be a burglar and a sneak thief, but he liked to think he was open to new experiences. As long as they served a good cause. He sighed briefly, and told his nagging conscience to take a break. He was only doing what he had to. Because he couldn’t see any other way to get to the truth of what was going on. And because he needed to be sure he was doing everything he could to protect everyone in the hotel from whoever had killed Giles.

He hadn’t been able to save his friend, so he had to save everyone else.

Alistair went over to the front door, and made it clear to the lock just who was in charge. He then tucked both keys into a handy pocket and glanced quickly around to make sure no one was watching. The shadow-strewn lobby stared back at him, quiet and still and utterly deserted. Alistair pulled open the front door and was immediately forced back by the howling wind. He had to hang on to the door with both hands just so he could stay on his feet. He allowed the door to swing all the way open, so it was out of the wind and couldn’t bang shut again, alerting the Makepeaces that something untoward was going on. Alistair grimly wondered just how many difficulties and indignities the night and the storm were determined to throw at him, and then braced himself and stuck his head out the door.

A squall of rain slapped him in the face, leaving him half blind and sputtering. He had to turn his head away and brush his eyes with his sleeve, before he could peer out again. The storm winds were slamming into the front of the hotel with the force of an oncoming train, and the rain was hammering down so hard it looked like a solid wall. Some of the raindrops hit the ground so hard they actually bounced back. Deep pools of water had already formed at the base of the door, threatening to rise up and flood the lobby.

Alistair looked out at what struck him as not just weather, but Madam Nature in the foulest of moods, and questioned himself very firmly as to whether what he had in mind was really necessary. He reluctantly decided that it was, but that he couldn’t just venture out into the storm unprepared. He’d be soaked to the skin before he could get anywhere near the chapel. He forced the front door shut again, using both hands and his shoulder, and the storm’s roar fell reluctantly away, like some huge hungry beast denied its prey. Alistair returned to the reception desk, and found the collapsible umbrella he’d glimpsed earlier, tucked away in the corner. Probably left there so it could be loaned to guests in an emergency, and Alistair was pretty sure this qualified. The umbrella didn’t seem particularly sturdy, and he had to wonder if it could stand up to the strength of the storm, but it was better than nothing. He made a mental note to thank the Makepeaces later for being so helpful, even if he didn’t intend to tell them exactly how. He went back to the front door, opened the umbrella before him like a shield, and then braced himself as best he could before hauling open the front door and plunging headlong into the driving rain.

He just had time to slam the front door closed behind him, before the sheer impact of the wind all but bowled him off his feet. He had to bend right forward and lean into the storm just to hold his position, and then forced his way forward step by dogged step. The rain was so fierce it was like being hit in the face by a tidal wave, and it hammered down so hard it threatened to snap the umbrella’s spokes and collapse the whole thing over his head. The raging wind did its best to turn the umbrella inside out, or snatch it out of his grip, but Alistair hung on grimly with both hands. His trousers were soaked through in moments, because they were the least protected part of him, and his shoes splashed loudly as he lurched from one deep puddle to the next. He pressed grimly on, into the face of the storm, heading determinedly for the chapel and refusing to be turned aside or driven back.

He kept one shoulder pressed against the front wall of the hotel, to support and guide him as he felt his way along. The hotel had no exterior lighting, or if it did, it wasn’t working, and the car park didn’t have so much as a single lamp to illuminate it. Everywhere Alistair looked, the darkness stared back at him, cold and implacable. Even the moon and the stars were hidden behind the heavy storm clouds. He had to wait for each new flash of lightning, plunge forward while the light lasted, and then trust the afterimage burned into his eyes to keep him moving. It helped that he only had to stick to the hotel wall and follow it to its end, to be sure of reaching the chapel.

The wind kept trying to blow Alistair off his feet with spiteful strength or, failing that, lever him away from the hotel wall so it could send him lost and lurching around in the dark. But he was damned if he’d let that happen. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it – not just to identify the murderer, but to keep everyone else safe.

The Pale Rider was not what it seemed.

The chapel loomed suddenly before him, a great squat shape that was somehow darker than the night. A jagged lightning bolt gave him a quick glimpse of rain streaming down the stone exterior in sudden rushes, defeated in its attempts to force a way in through the slanting roof. Alistair reached the end of the hotel wall, stretched his free hand out before him … And there was the chapel. He threw himself forward and pressed his body hard against the stone wall, letting its ancient strength support his weight while he got his breath back. Then he worked his way along the outer wall, foot by foot, until he reached the door. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, and waited for the next lightning flare. The chapel door sprang into being before him, huge and imposing. As though saying, Are you really planning to disturb me, this late at night? Alistair bared his teeth in something that might have been a smile, unlocked the door, heaved it open, and plunged inside.

He threw the umbrella to the floor, turned quickly round and slammed his shoulder against the door. He forced it shut in one go, despite everything the storm could do to prevent him, and then slumped heavily against the door for a moment, exhausted by his journey. He sighed deeply, relieved to be out of the rain and the wind. He thought of his fellow guests, sleeping soundly in their nice warm beds. If you only knew what I’ve been through, for you. Not that he’d ever tell them. He was only doing his duty, but it might sound like boasting. He was happy to leave that kind of self-promotion to Diana. With her, it was practically an art form …

Alistair slowly lifted his head and listened to the storm outside the chapel. It sounded tired and distant, sulking because it hadn’t been able to stop him after all. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax a little. After everything he’d been through, the chapel felt like sanctuary. He straightened up, put his back against the door, and peered around him. The chapel’s interior was almost as dark as the night outside, but his eyes soon adjusted enough for him to make out the narrow aisle that led through the pews to the altar. Where, if Alistair remembered correctly, there were candles.

Any other time, he might have felt intimidated by the atmosphere of such a long-established place of worship, but he had a job to do so he concentrated on that. An occasional blast of lightning forced a vivid blaze through the stained-glass windows, illuminating the chapel in silent explosions of electric blue. Alistair used the brief flashes of light to navigate his way carefully between the rows of pews. He could feel the presence of generations of worshippers, sitting at their prayers on the hard wooden seats. He hoped they wouldn’t object to his passing through, in a good cause.

Finally he ran out of pews, and the altar loomed up in front of him. He grabbed hold of it with both hands, like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver, and the altar felt reassuringly solid – a stubborn survivor from the days when faith meant something. Alistair reached into his pocket for the box of matches he always kept with him. He didn’t smoke so he had no use for a lighter, but it was surprising how often matches still managed to come in handy.

He took out a single match and struck it against the side of the box. The match didn’t want to light, so he took a firmer grip and tried again, careful not to apply too much pressure and snap the shaft. The sudden flame provided just enough light for him to make out three candles set out before him in heavy silver holders. He quickly lit all three, and a warm yellow glow enveloped the altar. The chapel’s details emerged at last from the gloom around him. Wreathed in shadows and soaked in history, the chapel felt like sanctuary from all the things that threaten. He shook out his match just as the flame began to singe his fingers, and slipped it into his pocket. Alistair could never understand why some people put spent matches back in the box. It was just asking for trouble.

He took a moment to try and beat some of the rain out of his trousers and stamp his shoes till they stopped squelching. He was cold enough that he kept being troubled by sudden shudders, and his clammy clothes clung to him like a shroud. He wasn’t entirely sure where that last thought came from, but quickly decided there was no point in pursuing it. His whole plan was starting to feel less like an adventure, and more like an endurance test.

He picked up one of the candlesticks, held it out before him, and peered quickly around the chapel to assure himself he was alone. Then he held the candlestick high so he could study the old dagger in its stone sheath, hanging on the wall above the altar. It was still there, looking, if anything, even more everyday and commonplace. Just a relic from a simpler time, when everyone believed in divine justice, before people learned the hard way that they had to make their own. He reached out and took a firm hold on the scrolled silver hilt. The dagger was stuck so tight in its sheath it didn’t want to move, and he had to work it back and forth to loosen it. The dagger finally jerked free, with an almost eager leap. Alistair held it close to the candlelight and examined it carefully. There was no trace of blood on the thin narrow blade. And when Alistair hefted the dagger in his hand, it felt entirely ordinary, with nothing of the supernatural about it. Flying Justice was merely a legend, after all. Alistair smiled, and nodded to himself. He’d never really thought Giles had been struck down by some unnatural weapon, but it felt good to have that confirmed. An unexpected weight lifted from his soul as he carefully replaced the dagger in its stone sheath, and backed away to seat himself on one of the front pews.

He wasn’t quite sure what he should do next. This was as far as his planning had brought him. By disproving one unlikely murder method, he’d opened himself to a whole raft of other, possibly darker, possibilities. Most definitely including the cold fact that one of the people at his wedding had to have murdered his best man.

He realised he was still holding the candlestick, and set it down on the pew beside him. The steady yellow light from the candles did its best to push back the shadows, and brought the chapel’s interior into sharper focus. Four walls, a dozen rows of pews, and an ancient stone altar. Nothing else, and nobody home. The chapel felt surprisingly peaceful, unlike the Pale Rider hotel, where the agreeable Makepeaces too often felt to Alistair like the smile on the face of the tiger – as though something cold and calculating was studying him carefully from behind its mask, waiting for its chance … Alistair told himself that it was just a metaphor, but wasn’t sure he believed it.

He picked up the candlestick again and moved over to inspect the nearest wall. It was covered from floor to ceiling with intricate old-time carvings. Saints and sinners, demons and angels, and any number of leering grotesques, all of them just jumbled together, with no sense of story or purpose, just a celebration of life and afterlife and everything the old-time worshippers had believed in. There was hardly an inch of bare stone left anywhere, and when Alistair looked round at the other walls, it quickly became clear they were all the same. But despite the overwhelming riot of exaggerated forms and faces, the chapel’s atmosphere remained reassuringly peaceful, even comforting. As though centuries of Christian faith and grace had sunk into the stone and mortar. A chapel designed to provide refuge from all manner of storms, physical and spiritual. Alistair smiled slowly, as he felt the pressures of the day slowly slip away. A thought came to him, This will be a good place to be married, in the morning. It will feel like a blessing. A reaffirmation of life, in the face of death and horror. Which was, after all, what his job was all about.

He went back to the pew, and sat down facing the dagger on the wall. He had a strong suspicion that he’d worked out what was probably going on, and as with so many other things, Flying Justice had been deliberately set up as a distraction.

But he needed to be sure.

Once he’d watched the dagger long enough to assure himself it was harmless, he could turn his back on it and make his way back to the hotel. Not to return to his room, crash on the bed, and finally get some much-needed sleep, because he’d never felt so awake, but so he could stand guard over everyone else. Protect them, from whatever dangers might still be lurking in the Pale Rider hotel. He thought he’d start by sitting in the bar, listening for anyone moving about, and watching for any sign of a threat. Then he’d patrol the first-floor corridor, making sure all the doors were securely locked, and listening carefully at each room to make sure the occupant was sleeping soundly. He liked the idea of standing between his guests and everything that threatened them. He had no doubt there was still a threat. The long night wasn’t nearly over, and the evil he had in mind was very real. He stirred restlessly on the pew, wanting to be up and about his duty, but he couldn’t leave until he’d watched the dagger long enough to be sure it was just a dagger.

He settled himself as comfortably as he could on the bare wooden pew, thinking back on the long day and all its many surprises. The supernatural sounds and sights, the sudden intrusions from the dark world, and all the shadows that held more than their fair share of hidden threats. He felt tired, worn down, but that was at least partly because he’d been deliberately keeping himself busy so he wouldn’t have to keep remembering his friend was dead. Murdered, for no obvious reason. Crispin had been right when he said murder seemed to follow the Holy Terrors around. Worst of all was the feeling that by embracing his role as part of the Holy Terrors, Alistair kept putting Diana’s life in danger. He felt like sending up a prayer, saying, Lord, I never asked for this. But Christ had said much the same in Gethsemane, and the answer had come back, You don’t get a say in the matter.

He bowed his head. God’s will be done. Even when he was being a pain in the arse. Alistair smiled briefly. At least his new role gave his life purpose and meaning. For some time now, he’d felt lost in the wilderness of early morning television, talking endlessly but never sure anyone was listening. Now it felt like he was finally achieving something, and demonstrating God’s worth to people through his actions. Most importantly, his new life had led him to Diana. He could forgive God anything, for that.

He frowned suddenly, as despite himself, he thought about Giles lying dead in his own blood. He would find out who was responsible for that, and see them punished. Because there had been a time when Giles had been his closest friend, and might have been again, if his life hadn’t been so suddenly cut short.

He sat and thought and watched the dagger on the wall, and let the time pass by. It was calm and quiet in the chapel. The thick stone walls reduced most of the storm’s rage to little more than a background murmur. If he concentrated, he could hear soft creakings and groanings from the old wooden support beams and the raftered ceiling, and now and again something that might have been mice or rats scurrying in the shadows. Alistair hoped not: he had a quiet horror of such things. He told himself firmly that if there had been even a suspicion of vermin, the Makepeaces would have put down traps and poison long ago, to make sure nothing could interfere with their lucrative marriage ceremonies.

On the altar, the candle flames danced and bobbed. There must be cracks in the old stonework, letting in draughts. Alistair was starting to feel troubled by a small but distinct feeling that the carved faces on the chapel walls were looking at him … trying to tell him something important. And that some of the shadows on the edge of his vision were stirring slowly whenever he wasn’t looking at them directly. But every time he turned his head to check, everything was always as it should be.

He tried to concentrate on the calm atmosphere of the chapel. An air of genuine sanctity, the result of generation upon generation coming to this place to confirm their faith and find solace by telling God their pain. A place where prayers would be heard, if not necessarily answered. Alistair was pretty sure this was the kind of chapel where people were encouraged to sort out their own problems.

He stirred uneasily on the hard wooden pew. He couldn’t shake off a feeling he wasn’t entirely alone. Even though he could see there was no one else in the chapel, it still felt as though someone else had got in, and was even now creeping up on him, darting silently from shadow to shadow. Someone who didn’t want the murderer to be identified. It suddenly occurred to Alistair that he was all on his own and far from friends … If anything should happen to him, how long would it be before anyone even noticed? He peered quickly around him, but still couldn’t see anyone. He rose abruptly to his feet and held his candlestick high, to throw back the shadows, because no one was going to stop him bringing the murderer down, whatever it took.

And that was when he heard the door open behind him.

Alistair spun round to face the door, his free hand closing into a fist as he prepared himself for whatever evil might appear out of the storm. And then the door swung all the way open and Diana lurched in, half driven into the chapel by the sheer force of the wind. Shadows leapt crazily as a lightning bolt forced its stark illumination through the open doorway. And then Diana slammed the door, forcing it shut despite the pressure of the wind. The fierce roar of the storm was immediately cut off, and peace returned.

Alistair relaxed so completely his legs almost gave way. He let his fist fall open, set the candlestick carefully down on the pew, and shook his head slowly. Sit alone in the dark long enough, and it was bound to do things to your head. But now Diana was here, and just like that his world made sense again.

He was surprised and a little shocked to see Diana had no umbrella, just a coat draped over her head and shoulders. It was soaked through and dripping wet, much like Diana herself, who wasn’t even trying to hide just how extremely unhappy she was about that. She threw her coat across the nearest pew and loudly cursed the storm and the rain and anyone stupid enough to be out in it, with a complete disregard for the sacred nature of her surroundings.

She glared at Alistair as he hurried forward, and dropped heavily onto the hard wooden seat of the nearest pew. She scowled and beat at her clothes with her bare hands, trying to drive out some of the rain that had soaked into them, not giving even the slightest damn about the mess that made on the floor.

‘Tell me you have a hairdryer,’ she said loudly. ‘You will be very definitely saving my life!’

Alistair had to grin. ‘Where would I plug it in?’

Diana glowered at him. ‘Really not helping, Bish.’

‘What are you doing here?’ said Alistair.

‘Looking for you!’ said Diana. ‘I knocked on the connecting wall, just to check, and when you didn’t knock back, I got worried. I left my room and knocked on your door. Not too loudly, because I didn’t want to wake the others. But when you still didn’t answer, I immediately became suspicious you’d left me behind, and gone off to check out the chapel on your own. Because that’s just the kind of stupid thing you would do.’

‘I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt,’ said Alistair. ‘Or wet.’

‘We’re supposed to be partners!’

‘We are,’ said Alistair. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Well,’ said Diana, ‘that’s more like it. Don’t get it wrong again, or I will slap the life out of you.’

They smiled at each other.

‘Immediately suspicious?’ said Alistair, raising an eyebrow.

‘Almost immediately,’ said Diana. ‘I hurried down to the lobby, tried the front door and found it unlocked, and that confirmed my worst fears. There was no way the Makepeaces would just go tripping lightly off to bed and leave the hotel unguarded.’ She gave Alistair her best hard look. ‘How were you able to unlock the front door?’

‘I stole the Makepeaces’ spare keys,’ said Alistair.

‘Bish!’ said Diana. ‘I am shocked, I tell you, shocked.’

‘I also took an umbrella. I’ll put everything back when I’m done.’

‘And that makes it all right?’ said Diana.

‘As long as no one finds out, yes,’ said Alistair.

Diana’s smile widened into an admiring grin. ‘For a Bishop, you have a very practical set of ethics.’

‘Best kind,’ said Alistair. ‘I have dedicated my life to helping people, and not letting unimportant things get in the way of that.’

‘Anyway,’ said Diana, realising they were in danger of forgetting what was important, ‘I fought my way through the storm to get here, because I was worried about you. All alone in the dark, in this creepy old place.’

‘It’s not creepy,’ Alistair said firmly. ‘I find it … consoling.’

Diana shook her head. ‘I should have known you’d be happy as a clam in your natural element.’

‘I don’t know if I’d go that far,’ said Alistair. ‘But thank you, for coming to find me.’

Diana shrugged. ‘I couldn’t let anything happen to you. We’re getting married tomorrow. And there’s no way the Makepeaces would ever give me a refund.’

‘It’s good to know you have your priorities in the right order,’ said Alistair.

Diana shook herself hard, and drops of rainwater flew off her. She scrubbed at her face with a handkerchief to wipe the rain away, and then looked in horror at the colourful streaks that left behind.

‘My make-up!’ she said loudly. ‘The rain has … Don’t look at me!’

‘You’re fine!’ Alistair said quickly. ‘You look fine!’

‘Are you crazy? I wasn’t going to let you see me without my face on until after the wedding!’

Alistair took both her hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly.

‘It was worth waiting for, Diana. You look great. Trust me.’

Diana let out a deep sigh, and managed a small smile. ‘Always, Bish.’

She pulled her hands free, scrubbed even more determinedly at her face, and then tucked her handkerchief away and looked around her.

‘Well? What have you found here? Any dark secrets or hidden clues? Anything at all that would justify both of us getting soaked to the skin and ending up with triple pneumonia?’

‘Flying Justice is exactly where it should be,’ said Alistair. ‘There was no trace of blood on the blade, and nothing to indicate it had ever moved.’

‘So we can rule it out as the murder weapon?’ said Diana.

‘I have been watching it very closely, and it hasn’t so much as twitched.’

Diana nodded thoughtfully. ‘Have you searched the rest of the chapel?’

‘There’s no one here but us,’ said Alistair.

‘I mean really searched it,’ said Diana. ‘As in, examined the whole place from top to bottom?’

‘What for?’ said Alistair.

Diana looked at him pityingly. ‘We won’t know till we find it, will we?’

‘You’re going to need a candle,’ said Alistair.

He led her to the altar and handed her one of the candlesticks. Diana then checked out each wooden pew in turn, while he examined all of the stained-glass windows. Nothing obvious came to light, so they moved on to study the carvings on the walls. At first, Alistair only went through the motions, keeping busy because Diana wanted him to. He found it hard to believe a chapel as old and sacred as this could have anything to hide. But the more he looked, the more certain he became that not only was the chapel definitely concealing some old secret, but that it wanted him to find it.

He stopped before one particular section of the wall facing the hotel. Something about it didn’t feel right, though he would have been hard-pressed to say why. He held his candlestick closer to the riotous display of cavorting carved figures, and smiled slowly. Diana picked up that he was onto something, and moved quickly over to stand beside him.

‘What are we looking for?’ said Diana.

‘That!’ said Alistair, holding the candlestick close to the wall.

‘What?’ said Diana. ‘I’m not seeing anything.’

‘That’s the point,’ said Alistair. ‘What isn’t there, that should be?’

Diana smiled suddenly as she realised one small section of the wall, not much bigger than her hand, was completely free from any kind of carving. Alistair set his candlestick down on the floor, and ran his fingertips across the rough stone of the bare space. He felt something give a little, pressed hard, and there was a loud click as an entire section of the wall fell back to reveal a dark opening. Diana grinned broadly.

‘Told you! What is it, do you think? An old priest hole?’

‘I think there’s more to it than that,’ said Alistair.

He picked up his candlestick again, and extended it carefully into the opening. The flickering yellow glow showed a stone tunnel falling away, but the light wasn’t strong enough to travel far.

‘Why would there be a tunnel here?’ said Diana.

‘This is smuggling country, remember?’ said Alistair. ‘And what better place to hide one of the tunnels they used to move their contraband?’

‘In a chapel?’ said Diana.

‘Smugglers weren’t noted for their delicate sensibilities,’ said Alistair. ‘And it’s always possible the local clergy were getting a cut. They were very good at separating the religious from the civil, back then. I think this tunnel connects the chapel directly to the hotel, where there are almost certainly more hidden tunnels that lead out onto the surrounding countryside. The hotel must have been a central meeting place for the smugglers. Because it’s the only building anywhere near the cliff face.’

‘Talk about hiding in plain sight,’ said Diana. ‘The smugglers scared people off the moor with their tale of the Pale Rider, and then hid out in the hotel named after it.’

‘Exactly,’ said Alistair. ‘There must be an entire network of hidden tunnels, so the smugglers could move their illegally imported goods around without anyone seeing.’

‘While everyone else concentrated on the moors,’ said Diana. ‘Because of the legend of the Pale Rider. The smugglers never moved anything across the moors, because that’s where they wanted people to be looking. The real traffic took place underneath.’

‘The existence of one secret door suggests there are more,’ Alistair said slowly. ‘Leading to tunnels inside the hotel, put there to move the goods around and provide hiding places in case of a visit by the revenue men.’

‘Of course!’ said Diana. ‘Hidden doors and secret passageways always feature in old hotels. This is just like all those Gothic romances I used to love so much! And the concealed tunnels would make it possible now for people to move around the hotel without any of us seeing them.’

‘Which would go a long way to explaining how things were made to happen during the séance,’ said Alistair. ‘There was never anything supernatural going on. Everything we saw and heard was manufactured. We were all so intent on what was going on right in front of us, we weren’t always keeping a close watch on Norman and Alice.’

‘Hold it,’ said Diana. ‘Alice was in a trance.’

‘Was she?’ said Alistair. ‘All of the time? With everything that was going on, how can we be sure? While we were all staring at the shadow of the Pale Rider on the wall, they could have been up to anything, and we wouldn’t have noticed.’

‘Because we were distracted,’ said Diana.

‘The secret of every good magician,’ said Alistair.

‘Let’s check out this tunnel!’ said Diana. ‘See where it ends up!’

Alistair shook his head reluctantly. ‘There could be all kinds of booby traps left in place.’

‘Of course,’ said Diana. ‘That’s what I’d do.’

Alistair and Diana heaved the stone slab back into position. It moved surprisingly smoothly once they got it going, suggesting well-maintained hinges. Alistair put the two candlesticks back on the altar, while Diana looked quickly round the chapel.

‘Just making sure we haven’t missed something … Is there anything else we need to do here?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Alistair. ‘The important thing was to establish the dagger hadn’t moved.’

Diana shot him a quick look. ‘Was that a real possibility?’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘It was only ever a red herring, to hold our attention so we wouldn’t notice what was really going on. But I needed to be sure.’

‘Let’s get back to the hotel,’ said Diana. ‘I need to change out of these wet clothes before I start to dissolve.’

Alistair carefully blew out each of the candles in turn, and a familiar darkness returned to the chapel. Diana produced a monogrammed silver lighter, and held the small leaping flame out before her. They followed the little light back through the pews to the door, surrounded all the way by crowding shadows. Alistair pulled back the door, and the wind immediately blew out the lighter and splashed a little rain into their faces. They both held their ground and stared defiantly out at the storm.

‘The rain doesn’t seem nearly as bad as it did on the way here,’ Diana said loudly. ‘And the wind has definitely dropped. I think the storm has shot its bolt. You can actually hear yourself think now. It must be moving on.’

‘Let us hope so,’ said Alistair.

He retrieved his umbrella, while Diana arranged her coat over her head and shoulders. They huddled together under the umbrella and stepped outside. Alistair carefully locked the chapel door, while Diana stirred restlessly. The pounding rain hammered loudly on the taut fabric above them, but couldn’t quite seem to summon up its previous levels of unpleasantness. Even the wind didn’t feel like it was really trying.

‘Head for the hotel front door, and don’t stop for anything,’ said Alistair.

‘Try and avoid the puddles,’ Diana said sternly. ‘These are good shoes.’

They hurried back through the storm, shouldered open the hotel’s front door and burst into the lobby. Alistair forced the door shut and locked it, and then threw the dripping umbrella to one side. It lay on the floor like a waterlogged and exhausted bat. Diana threw aside her coat, and then did her best to beat and squeeze as much moisture out of her clothes as possible, before attacking her face again with her handkerchief.

‘You look fine,’ Alistair said quickly.

‘Very sweet, but you’re not fooling anyone,’ said Diana. She scrubbed even harder at her face. ‘Better nothing at all, than smeared make-up. A girl must have her standards.’

Alistair just knew that whatever he said was going to be wrong, so he moved quickly behind the reception desk and slipped the two keys he’d taken back onto the ring in the drawer.

‘The Makepeaces are bound to notice you’ve been going through their things,’ said Diana.

‘They can’t prove anything,’ Alistair said cheerfully.

‘And you don’t feel a bit guilty, do you?’ Diana said admiringly.

‘Not when it’s all for a good cause,’ said Alistair.

Diana raised an eyebrow. ‘Satisfying your curiosity is a good cause?’

‘When the answers could help to keep people alive.’

‘You think the killer is going to strike again?’

‘I’m sure of it,’ said Alistair. ‘Unless I can put myself in their way.’

Diana started to say something, and then stopped herself.

‘Let’s get changed, before we catch our death.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Alistair.

They went up to their rooms, put on fresh clothes, and towelled hard at their hair. Alistair finished first, and went out into the corridor to knock on Diana’s door.

‘Are you decent, Diana?’

‘Very rarely.’

‘Just checking you’re OK.’

‘I’m fine. I’ll bang on the wall if I need my hand holding.’

Alistair’s head came up sharply, and he looked quickly around him.

‘Get out here, Diana. Something’s happening.’

She was out the door in a moment, and standing beside him.

‘What is it?’

‘I heard something. Listen …’

They both concentrated hard, and Diana nodded slowly.

‘Are those … voices?’

‘Definitely,’ said Alistair. ‘And they’re coming from somewhere down below.’

They looked at each other, and then made their way quietly back down the stairs and into the lobby.

‘There’s someone in the bar,’ Alistair said softly.

‘Why didn’t we hear them earlier?’ said Diana.

‘Maybe the door at the end of the corridor was closed,’ said Alistair.

‘But who would be up and about at this hour?’ said Diana. ‘When I left the hotel, it seemed like everyone was sleeping the deep sleep of the truly exhausted. I was really careful not to make any more noise than I had to …’

‘We need to find out what’s going on in the bar,’ said Alistair.

‘Go for it,’ said Diana. ‘I could use a little something, to warm the inner me.’

‘Never knew you when you couldn’t,’ Alistair said generously.

He set off down the shadowy corridor, with Diana right beside him. The end door was standing just ajar, and he pushed it open. And then they stood in the doorway, staring at Edward and Charlotte, Eliza and Crispin, all sitting around the bar in an assortment of dressing gowns, drinking something hot from a collection of mis-matched mugs. Norman and Alice were back behind the bar, in matching monogrammed dressing gowns, and looking resigned about it.

Edward stood up to greet the newcomers, looking positively resplendent in a dressing gown that could have stepped right out of any Noël Coward revival.

‘Diana! Alistair! Come in and join us. We were just saying it was about time you showed up.’

‘Where have you been?’ said Charlotte, from the depths of a huge dressing gown that had once been very glamorous and very expensive. ‘And look at the state of you! What have you done to your face, Diana?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ said Diana.

‘But my dear, you look positively naked!’

‘Not another word,’ Diana said coldly, and Charlotte gave all her attention to the mug in her hands.

Norman took a close look at Alistair and Diana. ‘Have you been outside?’

‘Yes,’ said Diana. And then shot him a look that dared him to make something of it.

‘But why on earth would you want to do that?’ said Alice, meeting Diana’s gaze with an equally hard look of her own.

‘To embrace the majesty of the storm,’ Alistair said grandly.

Diana winced a little, but felt obliged to back him up.

‘It was very romantic. Just the two of us, braving the elements.’

Norman frowned. ‘I’m sure I locked the front door before I turned in …’

‘You did,’ said Alice. ‘I reminded you, dear.’

‘But you left the key in the lock,’ Alistair said smoothly. ‘Don’t worry, I put it in one of the reception desk drawers.’

Alice glared at Norman. ‘I can’t believe you did that again …’

‘I’m sorry, dear,’ said Norman. ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind.’

Alistair and Diana moved forward into the bar. Norman smiled brightly at them, intent on making the best of things.

‘We can offer you tea, coffee, or hot chocolate.’

‘A little hot chocolate sounds like just the thing,’ said Alistair.

‘Coffee,’ Diana said firmly. ‘Black, no sugar, and splash some rum in it.’

While the Makepeaces hunted up two more mugs, Alistair looked round the bar at the others.

‘What are all of you doing here, at this hour?’

‘It turned out that none of us could sleep, after everything that’s happened,’ said Crispin.

His dressing gown looked distinctly threadbare, like a carpet that far too many people had trodden on.

‘Who could sleep?’ Charlotte said dramatically. ‘Knowing there could be a killer on the loose?’

‘Especially since it’s almost certain the murderer is one of us,’ said Eliza.

Her dressing gown was cheap and cheerful, and had a series of old stains down the front, but if Eliza gave a damn, she was doing a really good job of hiding it.

Charlotte shook her head quickly. ‘I really can’t believe one of us is the killer.’

‘Who else could it be?’ said Edward. ‘Unless someone managed to sneak into the hotel unnoticed.’ He looked to the Makepeaces. ‘Does that sound even remotely possible to you?’

‘Of course not,’ said Norman, coming forward with hot drinks for Alistair and Diana. They wrapped their hands firmly around the mugs, enjoying the warmth. Alistair sipped happily at his hot chocolate, while Diana drank deeply and then nodded approvingly at the ratio of rum to coffee.

‘We take our security very seriously,’ Alice said sternly. ‘When my husband isn’t busy leaving keys in locks.’

‘I said I was sorry, dear,’ said Norman, moving quickly back to the bar. ‘I swear it won’t happen again.’

‘I came out of my room when I heard everyone else talking in the corridor,’ said Eliza. ‘It was clear none of us were going to get a wink of sleep, so I suggested we come down here.’

‘And we all immediately repaired to the bar, because that’s where refreshing drinks are to be found,’ said Crispin. ‘You learn to appreciate things like that, as you get older.’

‘We heard people talking in the bar from our apartment out back,’ said Norman. ‘So we came out to see what was happening.’

‘And once we were up, we didn’t feel sleepy any more either,’ said Alice.

‘Not once we realised there was work to be done,’ said Norman.

‘So we collected mugs and a kettle and some makings from the kitchen,’ said Alice, ‘and rustled up hot drinks for everyone! Just what’s needed, for a sociable get-together in the early hours.’

Norman beamed around him. ‘It is very cosy, isn’t it?’

‘Well, it would be, dear,’ said Alice. ‘If there hadn’t been a murder.’

‘Yes, dear, I know,’ said Norman. ‘I was just trying to cheer people up by looking on the bright side.’

Alice smiled at him fondly. ‘Of course you were, dear. You’re always so thoughtful.’

‘But you were the one who had the great idea!’ said Norman.

Alistair could tell from the look on everyone else’s faces that this had already been revealed to them, and they were all having a really hard time convincing themselves it was in any way a great idea. Alistair smiled politely at Norman and Alice.

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Oh, you’re going to love this,’ said Eliza, staring determinedly into her mug.

‘It is clear that my long-dormant talents as a medium have been re-awakened,’ Alice said firmly. ‘So, I thought, let’s hold another séance! Where I will raise up the spirit of the murdered man, and ask it who killed him!’

There was a long pause. No one seemed to want to meet her eyes.

‘Another séance?’ Diana said finally. ‘Because the first one worked out so well for everyone?’

‘Things only got a little out of hand then, because I was caught by surprise,’ Alice said quickly. ‘It’s been so long since the spirits were mine to command that they just ran wild, and everything happened at once. This time, I will be in complete control.’

‘I’ve heard other mediums say that,’ Edward said calmly. ‘And it usually turned out that they were only in control because they were secretly running the show. Real mediums are aware that what they possess is a gift, which manifests through them. It is the afterlife that chooses what they are allowed to reveal.’

Alice glared at him challengingly. ‘Who knows more about séances? The experienced medium, or the amateur onlooker?’

Edward smiled. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’

‘Come away, dear,’ Charlotte said to him quietly. ‘She’ll turn nasty.’

‘Alice was a very well-known and respected medium, in her youth,’ Norman said quickly. ‘And there is no denying she got results earlier. Without even trying!’

‘Please be in no doubt that I shall be keeping a very tight rein on things at all times,’ said Alice.

‘You tell them dear,’ Norman said happily.

‘I am telling them, dear.’

Diana put down her empty mug and looked around the bar. ‘Does this really sound like a good idea to anyone?’

Everyone carefully avoided her gaze, hoping someone else would find the right words to let Alice down gently. Alistair cleared his throat in a meaningful sort of way, and everyone turned to look at him. He smiled at Alice.

‘I think a second séance is an excellent idea.’

Diana looked at him. ‘You do?’

‘Trust me,’ said Alistair. ‘This is exactly what we need, to get to the truth.’

‘Really?’ said Diana.

Alistair grinned. ‘Have a little faith.’

Diana shook her head. ‘You are really pushing it, Bish.’

Alistair moved unhurriedly away, ignoring the hubbub of conversation that broke out in his wake, and sat down beside Crispin. The Canon was sitting alone right next to the blazing fire, some distance from the others. He appeared to be missing his sleep. His eyes were vague and a little lost, and his hair was sticking out in all directions. He had a mug of something hot in his hands, but didn’t seem all that interested in it. He nodded briefly to Alistair and managed something like a smile.

‘I’m afraid you’re not seeing me at my best, dear boy,’ said Crispin, ‘having been dragged untimely from my rest by troubled dreams and raised voices. But bad as I undoubtedly appear, you’d still take a silver for being so interestingly windswept. What have you been doing?’

Alistair leaned forward, and lowered his voice. ‘Diana and I nipped out for a quick look at the chapel, and the Flying Justice dagger.’

‘In this storm?’ said Crispin. ‘That downpour couldn’t be more of a threat to life unless it had sharks in it.’ He looked at the mug he was holding, took a sip, and pulled a face. ‘I think my tastebuds are still asleep … Well? Did you uncover anything of interest?’

‘That dagger hasn’t been drawn in ages,’ said Alistair.

He didn’t mention the concealed passageway in the wall. Much as it pained him, he couldn’t find it in himself to trust anyone in the group just now.

‘I am sorry about what happened to your friend, Giles,’ said Crispin. ‘I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to him, but he seemed very … successful.’

‘He was full of plans for the future,’ said Alistair.

‘Do you honestly think we should allow this second séance to go ahead?’ said Crispin.

‘I don’t believe for one moment that Alice will be able to summon up Giles’s spirit,’ said Alistair. ‘But I do think that watching everyone’s face while she tries could prove very revealing.’

Crispin smiled slowly. ‘You have got to be the most devious bishop I know. And I’ve known a few …’

‘I learned from the best,’ said Alistair, inclining his head to his former tutor.

Crispin looked at him steadily. ‘Do you have any idea who killed your friend?’

‘I have several,’ said Alistair. ‘But not enough evidence to allow me to point the finger.’

‘If we go ahead with this new séance,’ Crispin said slowly, ‘do you think we’ll see another appearance from the Pale Rider?’

‘I’m not sure he was here the first time,’ said Alistair.

Crispin shook his head wearily. ‘It’s far too early in the morning for enigmatic remarks.’

He took another sip from his mug, using both hands to hold it steady. Alistair was quietly shocked at how frail his old tutor looked. Crispin had seemed old enough to him when he was a student, but the Canon seemed positively ancient now. Alistair had to wonder if he had done Crispin any favours by summoning him all the way to Cornwall. Never mind everything that had happened since. Crispin sipped from his mug with complete concentration, and Alistair realised the conversation was at an end. He looked over to where Diana had just sat down with her parents, and leaned casually in their direction so he could eavesdrop.

‘I never sleep properly in a strange hotel,’ Charlotte said loudly.

‘You were snoring like a fire truck,’ Edward said affectionately.

Charlotte sat bolt upright. ‘I do not snore! You’re the one who makes sleeping difficult, always poking me with your cold feet.’

‘I could poke you with something else if you’d prefer,’ said Edward.

Charlotte let out a raucous snort of laughter and slapped Edward on the arm, before turning to Diana.

‘I think you’d better accompany me to the little girls’ room, so we can work some repairs on your make-up, darling.’

‘I don’t think we have that much time,’ said Diana. ‘The séance should start kicking off soon, and I really don’t think the dearly departed will give much of a damn what kind of face I show them.’

‘I wasn’t sure about another séance, but now I think I’m getting my second wind. It’s all rather thrilling, isn’t it?’ said Charlotte. ‘We might actually be about to find out who the murderer is!’

‘That’s not how mediums work,’ said Edward. ‘Genuine mediums, anyway.’

Charlotte glowered at him. ‘You always have to make out you’re such an expert on these things.’

‘I have attended séances with many professional mediums, people who knew what they were doing,’ said Edward. ‘And even the most publicity-seeking among them would draw the line at disturbing the rest of a murder victim. Ghosts can be angry enough at the best of times …’

Charlotte sniffed loudly, and turned away to address Diana.

‘Every time he comes back from one of those spiritualism things, he can’t wait to tell me how fake everything looked, and how easy it was to spot all their tricks. I don’t know why he keeps going, if he knows he’s bound to be disappointed.’

‘Because I keep hoping I’ll stumble across the real thing,’ said Edward.

‘What would happen if you did?’ said Diana. ‘What would you want to ask a real medium?’

‘The only question that matters,’ said Edward. ‘What comes next?’ He smiled briefly. ‘The best answer I ever got from a medium was: try explaining a butterfly to a caterpillar.’

‘Anyway,’ said Charlotte, dragging the conversation back to what she was interested in. ‘Alice seems very much the real deal to me.’

‘But what if she does try to pin the blame on one of us?’ said Diana. ‘An accusation without any evidence to back it up isn’t worth the paper it isn’t written on.’

‘It might be enough to provoke a reaction from the genuine killer,’ said Edward. He looked narrowly at Diana. ‘Is that what your young man is hoping for?’

‘I’m not sure what Alistair is up to,’ said Diana. ‘I only hope he knows what he’s doing.’

‘I often have the same feeling about Edward when we’re on stage together,’ said Charlotte.

‘I laugh,’ Edward said coldly. ‘I cavort with amusement.’

‘You couldn’t cavort if someone stuck a battery up your backside,’ said Charlotte.

They both stopped talking and gave all their concentration to their mugs, as they tried to decide who had come out on top. Diana wasn’t bothered; she’d heard it all before.

Alistair decided he’d learned as much as he was going to, and turned back to Crispin. But the Canon was staring off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. It seemed to Alistair that his old tutor had been doing that a lot just lately. What could Crispin have to think about, that was so important? Did he know something, or had he seen or heard something that Alistair had missed? And if so, why was he so reluctant to discuss it? Alistair sighed internally. He knew of old that Crispin wouldn’t be pressured into saying anything until he was ready. He looked around and his gaze fell on Eliza, sitting alone at the next table. He got up and went over to smile winningly at her.

‘Do you mind if I join you?’

‘Suit yourself,’ said Eliza. She didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of company, but Alistair just kept on smiling as he sat down facing her.

‘What do you think will happen, during this new séance?’

‘More tricks,’ Eliza said flatly. ‘More smoke and mirrors. It’s all just a show they put on.’

‘You’re not a believer in the supernatural?’ said Alistair.

‘Not even a little bit.’

‘If you’ll forgive me pointing it out,’ said Alistair, ‘you did seem pretty upset earlier.’

‘I’ve had time to think about things, since then,’ said Eliza. ‘You don’t believe in any of that stuff, do you?’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘But I do find it interesting.’

‘This is all about Alice,’ Eliza said darkly. ‘I’ve seen her type before. She has to play the medium again because it’s her only way to stay in the spotlight, where she’s convinced she belongs.’

‘I wonder who she’ll accuse?’ said Alistair, leaving the question hanging on the air.

‘Someone she doesn’t like,’ Eliza said briskly. She fixed him with a steady gaze. ‘You’re one half of the infamous Holy Terrors – mysteries solved while you wait. Who do you think did it?’

‘I’m still working on that,’ said Alistair.

‘Work faster,’ Eliza said brusquely. ‘Before we find someone else lying dead in their own blood.’

‘That is the plan,’ said Alistair.

Norman came out from behind the main bar, and offered to refresh Diana’s mug with more coffee and more rum. She accepted the refill gratefully.

‘Do you honestly believe your wife has actual abilities?’ she said.

Norman glanced back at Alice, bustling away behind the main bar, and moved a little closer so he could lower his voice confidentially.

‘She told me about some of the things she used to do in séances, back when she was younger,’ he said. ‘She was apparently quite the prodigy in her day, and very well thought of in the most respected spiritualist circles. I don’t know why she stopped. She never said, and I never liked to ask.

‘Whenever we’ve decided to put on the occasional séance in the past, it was always for the right kind of receptive audience, and then Alice would just do her voices and allow the atmosphere to do the heavy lifting. But after what happened earlier …’

‘There has been some scepticism, as to whether those were genuine phenomena,’ said Diana.

‘You think someone could have faked them?’ Norman thought about it, and shook his head. ‘I don’t see how.’

‘Do you think Alice can summon up the spirit of the murdered man?’

‘I think … it’s worth a try.’

He hurried off to rejoin his wife behind the main bar. Alice was practising looking mysterious, but the glimpse Diana caught just made her think the poor woman had indigestion. She nodded to Alistair as he came back and dropped heavily into the seat beside her, stretching out his long legs in the manner of someone who’d already made up his mind about what was going on.

‘Are you planning something, Bish?’

‘Possibly,’ said Alistair. ‘If nothing else, it will be very interesting to see what happens now we’re all on our guard.’

‘What if nothing happens?’ said Diana.

‘Something will,’ said Alistair.

Alice emerged from behind the main bar, and smiled easily at everyone.

‘Would you all please take your seats at the main table again?’ she said calmly. ‘It’s time to begin.’

She moved forward, with Norman hurrying after her. Everyone else heaved themselves out of their chairs, and got to their feet. Diana moved in close beside Alistair, brushed some invisible fluff off his jacket shoulder, and then gave Alice her best hard look.

‘You honestly think you can do this?’ she said.

Alice smiled. ‘I think you can be sure of a few surprises.’

‘That’s what I’m hoping for,’ said Alistair.

SIX

Holding Hands In The Dark

Everyone moved over to the table with varying shades of reluctance, while Norman and Alice arranged the chairs. Most of the guests looked at the table with more than a little unease, remembering all the things that hadn’t gone at all well the last time they sat down in anticipation of a pleasant little chat with the Other Side.

Diana moved in beside Alistair and sighed wistfully. ‘This is not how I thought I’d be spending the night before my wedding.’

Alistair smiled and offered her his arm. ‘What did you have in mind?’

Diana slipped her arm through his and pressed it against her side. ‘I thought … a nice romantic walk in the dusk, followed by a late night in the bar, sitting on either side of a big fire with large brandies in our hands, chatting cosily away into the early hours of the morning.’

‘I would have liked that too,’ said Alistair. ‘But unfortunately, events have conspired to get in the way.’

‘That does seem to happen a lot with us,’ said Diana. ‘Ever since we became the Holy Terrors.’

‘I was just thinking that, in the chapel,’ said Alistair.

Diana caught something in his voice, and looked at him sharply.

‘Do you ever regret the things we’ve done, as the Holy Terrors? Solved mysteries, revealed murderers?’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘I just sometimes regret the more ordinary life we might have had.’

‘I don’t regret a thing about us,’ said Diana.

‘Same here,’ said Alistair. ‘But … if we did deliberately fail to solve this mystery, maybe then the fates would leave us alone.’

And you would be safe, he thought but didn’t say.

‘But that would mean letting the murderer get away with it,’ said Diana. ‘And I don’t think either of us could stand for that.’

‘No,’ said Alistair. ‘We couldn’t. And besides, Giles was my friend.’

‘Can’t say I ever warmed to the man,’ Diana said carefully. ‘But then, I never got the chance.’

‘He wasn’t the friend I remembered,’ said Alistair. ‘But we might have become close again, given time. Someone took that chance away from me.’

‘Any clues as to who that might be?’ said Diana.

‘I have an idea or two,’ said Alistair. ‘But for now … I think the best thing to do is treat this whole Holy Terrors thing as just one big game. The best game ever, that we always win because we’re so good at it.’

Diana laughed. ‘I can live with that.’

‘And after this is all over,’ said Alistair, ‘when all the mysteries have been explained and the murderer has been dragged into the light, we can get married. And then we’ll have time for that romantic walk, and the drinks in the bar, and—’

‘And go straight to bed and stay there,’ said Diana. ‘To hell with the cosy chat.’

They laughed, and watched the other guests gather slowly around the table, as Alice and Norman pushed each chair carefully into position. And then Norman stopped suddenly with a chair in his hands, as though he didn’t know what to do with it.

‘That’s one chair too many,’ said Alice.

‘I know,’ said Norman. ‘I just forgot for a moment, that Giles won’t be able to use it.’

Alice nodded vaguely, giving all her attention to the chairs set around the table.

‘Don’t be upset, dear. Soon you’ll be able to say sorry to him personally.’

Norman looked at her, and then put the chair back where he found it. None of the guests said anything. Alice seated herself grandly at what she clearly considered to be the head of the table, like the star of the show or a queen before her subjects. Charlotte shot her a hard look, clearly not happy at having her rightful place in the spotlight undermined. She started to say something, but Edward pulled a chair out for her with old-fashioned gallantry, and Charlotte lowered herself onto it with all the practiced grace of the star she was, as if to show how such things were done.

Alice didn’t even glance in her direction, being far too busy preparing for her role as intermediary between this world and the next. Edward sat down beside Charlotte and patted her hand comfortingly. Charlotte smiled automatically but didn’t appear particularly comforted. A small notch had appeared over her nose, as she concentrated her most impressive frown on Alice. Alistair and Diana sat down, side by side, with the calm air of people determined to make as much nuisance of themselves as possible.

‘Well,’ Diana said lightly, beaming around the table. ‘Here we go again. Better tighten those safety belts, people; it’s going to be one hell of a bumpy ride.’

Eliza dropped unhappily onto her chair and scowled around the table. ‘Do we really have to do this?’

‘Cheer up,’ said Alistair. ‘Whatever happens, I think I can guarantee you’ll find it interesting.’

‘That’s what’s worrying me,’ said Eliza.

‘Just go with the flow, darling,’ said Diana. ‘And if a ghost should turn up to make trouble, do your best to kick its spectral arse before I do.’

Eliza sniffed loudly and raised her voice. ‘I just want everyone to know that I am only doing this under protest!’

‘Will you please lighten up?’ said Diana. ‘Before you strain something.’

Eliza managed a small smile.

Crispin settled onto his chair in a way that suggested his old bones were complaining, and looked thoughtfully around the table, studying each face in turn. Alistair thought the Canon had the look of a man with something on his mind.

Norman bustled around in the background, turning off the odd light here and there as he had for the previous séance, only to stop abruptly when he realised how dark the bar was getting. With most of the lights no longer working, there was already more than enough gloom and shadows and atmosphere to spare. He quietly retraced his steps and turned the lights back on.

‘Are we ever going to get the power working properly again in this place?’ Charlotte said loudly.

‘I’m sure someone is working on it even as we speak,’ said Norman. ‘It doesn’t normally take them this long, but you have to remember we’re not the only ones affected by the storm. I hate to think what it must be like in town.’

‘Just how far down the list are we likely to be?’ said Diana.

‘I’ll be happy if we make the list at all,’ said Norman.

He popped behind the main bar and produced half a dozen emergency candles. He set them out on the bar top in silver holders, and soon had half a dozen small flames bobbing and dancing. Their warm golden glow helped take the edge off the gloom and pushed back the darker shadows. All around the table, people did their best to relax, but their smiles weren’t always convincing. Most of them couldn’t keep from shooting uneasy glances round the bar, as they remembered things from the previous séance they would definitely prefer not to see again. Alistair looked thoughtfully at the wall where the Pale Rider’s shadow had stamped itself, in all its dark glory. Diana caught him looking and leaned over to press her shoulder against his.

‘Do you think there’s any chance Old Boney and his ventilated horse will try for a repeat performance?’

‘I don’t think we should expect to see anything that happened before,’ Alistair said quietly.

Diana caught on quickly. ‘Because with more time to study the phenomena, we might be able to spot how they’re being faked?’

‘Got it in one,’ said Alistair.

‘Is it at all possible, do you think, that Alice could genuinely have real abilities?’ said Diana, shooting a surreptitious glance in the direction of the medium, who was doing her best to appear deep in contemplation of the Infinite.

‘I think it’s possible she believes it,’ said Alistair.

‘You always try to see the best in everyone,’ said Diana.

‘Well,’ said Alistair, ‘that is my job.’

Alice turned suddenly around in her chair to glare at her husband, who froze guiltily with his hand hovering over a light switch.

‘I think that’s quite enough scene-setting, dear,’ said Alice. ‘I don’t need a manufactured atmosphere to work in.’ She looked steadily at Edward. ‘I’m not some kind of fraud or confidence trickster.’

‘I never said a word,’ said Edward.

‘But you were thinking it,’ said Alice.

‘So now you’re a mind-reader, as well?’ Charlotte said innocently.

Alice let that pass, and looked approvingly round the table. ‘You’re all back in the same places as before. That’s good. We achieved some very positive results with this configuration.’

The guests looked at each other, in a way that made it very clear they wouldn’t have described their previous experiences as being in any way positive.

Charlotte glowered at the far end of the bar.

‘If anyone so much as makes finger puppets on that wall, I will pick up this table and hit them with it.’

‘I thought that particular manifestation was a bit too on the nose, myself,’ said Edward.

Norman bristled. ‘I hope you’re not implying that my wife and I were in any way responsible for what happened last time.’

‘Oh, perish the thought,’ said Edward. ‘It’s just that I am always in favour of a rational explanation, wherever possible.’

‘Then why do you spend so much time going to séances?’ said Eliza, frowning.

‘Looking for a diamond, in a mountain of dross,’ said Edward.

Norman shot a quick glance at Alice, but she’d gone back to preparing for her big moment and wasn’t about to be bothered by the trivial concerns of the everyday world. Norman looked quickly round the table and showed his guests a dignified and entirely blameless expression.

‘We didn’t expect any of that stuff to happen,’ he said bluntly.

‘But now your wife seems convinced she’s a real medium,’ said Diana.

‘She used to be,’ Norman said proudly. ‘Had an amazing reputation in her younger days. I never used to believe in that sort of thing, but now …’

He looked around the bar in a slow, almost haunted way, as though seeing it in a new and disturbing light.

Alistair took out a handkerchief, blew his nose loudly, went to put the handkerchief away and dropped it on the floor. He smiled quickly round the table, bent over to grope for his lost handkerchief, and finally sat up again. He brandished it triumphantly, before putting it carefully away. Diana gave him a hard look, before leaning in close.

‘What was that performance all about?’

‘Just taking a quick look under the table,’ Alistair said quietly.

‘Did you see anything?’

‘It’s more what someone else didn’t see.’

‘You can be so infuriating!’

‘I know.’

‘Will everyone please hold hands now,’ Alice said calmly. ‘Not too tightly, but enough to maintain firm contact at all times. We want the spiritual energies to run smoothly round the circle. And remember, whatever happens … don’t break the circle. That could be very dangerous.’

‘Who to?’ Diana said brightly. ‘Us, or the spirits?’

‘Successful contact with the hidden world can generate enormous amounts of spiritual energy,’ said Alice. ‘If we should fail to contain it at any point, the consequences could be appalling.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Eliza. ‘What’s the worst that could happen? A rain of frogs, or a plague of boils?’

Alice looked at her steadily. ‘It is possible not everyone will get up from the table at the end of the séance. Or at least, not as the same person who sat down.’

There was a moment’s silence in the bar.

‘Not to worry,’ said Crispin. ‘I still remember how to perform an exorcism.’

‘I can’t help noticing, Alice, that you’ve donned a rather snazzy pair of black leather gloves,’ Alistair said admiringly. ‘Do they have some mystical significance that we should be aware of? Or are they simply what all the best mediums are wearing this season?’

‘I used to wear gloves all the time, when I was younger,’ said Alice. ‘They help insulate me from the psychic forces running through the circle.’ She smiled reflectively. ‘I haven’t worn these gloves for a long time. Norman remembered, and dug them out for me. They’re helping to put me in the right frame of mind.’

‘If what we’re doing is so dangerous, shouldn’t all of us be wearing gloves?’ Charlotte said loudly.

‘The only real danger is to the medium,’ Norman said quickly. ‘Because she is the most sensitive to outside influences.’

‘Then why didn’t anything happen to her during the last séance?’ said Diana.

‘According to Alice,’ said Norman, after a quick glance at his wife, who seemed disinclined to take part in the conversation, ‘mediums raise the spiritual energies and then the circle maintains them, and gives them focus.’

‘I’m no wiser,’ said Diana.

‘You are not alone,’ said Norman.

They shared a smile.

Alistair looked round the table. Crispin was studying Alice carefully, his brow furrowed in thought. Alice raised her eyes for a moment and caught Crispin watching her. She met his gaze with a stern look.

‘Disbelief will only get in the way of our making contact with the recently departed,’ she said flatly.

‘I’m not necessarily a disbeliever,’ said Crispin. ‘I’m just waiting for something to happen that I can believe in.’

Alice nodded slowly. ‘Something will happen.’

Norman leaned over to her and lowered his voice. Alistair leaned casually in their direction and strained his hearing to pick up what Norman was saying.

‘Please, Alice, just do the voices!’ Norman said urgently. ‘They’ll be happy to settle for that. You can do Giles’s voice, can’t you?’

‘I won’t need to,’ Alice said steadily. ‘Things have changed. I can feel the power in me, the way I used to before my parents insisted I turn my back on my God-given gifts, because they weren’t bringing in enough money.’

‘From what you’ve told me,’ said Norman, ‘it was ruining your life. Hard work, long hours travelling … You were better off concentrating on the real world.’

Alice stared at him. ‘You never believed in me.’

Norman sighed. ‘Just … try not to be too disappointed if things don’t work out the way you expect. It’s been a long time since you did this, and the hotel seems to have developed a mind of its own, just lately.’

‘Something will happen,’ Alice said stubbornly. ‘We are not alone here. I can feel a presence waiting in the wings, gathering its strength.’

‘Let’s just hope it knows its lines,’ said Norman.

He sat down next to his wife and did his best to appear supportive. Alistair took the opportunity for one last look round the gloom and shadows filling the bar, checking for any signs of a ghostly figure waiting for its cue, but couldn’t see anything.

‘Ghosts don’t appear to unbelievers,’ Alice said loudly.

‘How very convenient,’ said Diana.

‘Not at all,’ said Alice. ‘All it takes to undermine a séance is one person determined to flood the area with negative energies.’

Diana started to say something, but Alistair quickly raised his voice and spoke over her.

‘Let us all try to be positive,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we all want to hear what Giles has to say, about who killed him.’ His careful emphasis on the word killed quietened everyone down.

‘Before we begin,’ said Alice, ‘would anyone like to start us off with a prayer? It is traditional.’

Edward put on his most resonant actor’s voice. ‘From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggity beasties, may the good Lord deliver us.’

There were bursts of muffled laughter from around the table. Charlotte shook her head reproachfully at her husband, and hit him with her best can’t take you anywhere look.

‘It’s bad form to laugh at someone else’s performance, dear,’ she said, sotto voce.

Edward nodded. ‘You’re quite right, my dear, as usual.’

‘I suppose that is as good a start as we’re going to get,’ Alice said resignedly. ‘Though I would have preferred something a little more formal—’

Crispin calmly raised his voice. ‘Though I walk through the shadow of the Valley of Death, I shall fear no evil …’

‘Amen,’ said Alistair.

There were a few more mumbled amens from around the table. Alice waited until they’d died down, and then added her own amen with enough deliberation to make sure there wouldn’t be any further interruptions. She sat back in her chair and her breathing slowed, becoming deep and steady. Her eyes closed. It was very quiet in the bar, and very still. Everyone at the table watched Alice carefully. And then Norman’s head came up sharply.

‘Listen!’

Alice’s eyes snapped open, and she turned right round in her chair to glare angrily at her husband.

‘Will you be quiet, Norman! You are disturbing my concentration and ruining the atmosphere!’

Norman shook his head quickly. ‘No, dear, listen!’

‘What is it, Norman?’ said Alistair. ‘What did you hear?’

‘It’s the storm,’ said Norman. ‘It’s stopped. I can’t hear the wind or the rain any more.’

Everyone listened carefully, and then smiled at each other as they realised Norman was right. There wasn’t a murmur of wind from outside the hotel. The thunder and the lightning were gone, along with the driving rain.

‘The storm has moved on,’ said Diana.

‘About time,’ said Charlotte. ‘All that noise was threatening to give me one of my headaches.’

‘Hopefully, this means the lights will be back on sometime soon,’ said Edward. ‘If I wanted to sit around in the dark, I’d go to the cinema.’

‘I do miss making movies,’ said Charlotte. ‘But I became too big for the screen.’

‘I told you to diet,’ said Diana.

They realised Alice was glaring at them, and nodded apologetically. Alice gave Norman her hardest look.

‘Is there anything else you want to say, dear? Any other news of vital importance?’

He looked down, avoiding her gaze, and shook his head.

‘Good,’ said Alice, in a tone that made it clear she was determined to regain control of the situation. ‘Let us all be grateful that the storm has departed. Its chaotic energies would only have interfered with my own, and made it that much harder for any unquiet spirits to manifest.’ She looked quickly round the table, defying anyone to challenge her.

‘Can we please get on with this?’ said Eliza, entirely unmoved. ‘The sooner we get started, the sooner we can finish.’

‘That’s not really in the spirit of the occasion, is it?’ said Diana.

‘I can remember when you used to be funny,’ said Eliza.

‘I can remember when you had a sense of humour,’ said Diana.

‘Hush, please,’ said Norman, and Diana and Eliza sank back in their chairs and didn’t look at each other.

Alice made a point of closing her eyes again, while her face wore a don’t make me have to open my eyes again expression. Her breathing deepened. Everyone watched her intently, apart from Alistair, who took the opportunity to study everyone else’s face. Diana looked impatient, and perhaps a little anticipatory, as though she was just waiting for something supernatural to happen, so she could tackle it, throw it to the ground, and then press a knee against its throat while she asked it some pointed questions. Alistair knew she was still mad at herself for not doing something during the first séance’s outbreak of the weird and unnatural.

Edward’s noble face was openly disparaging as he looked at Alice, as though he’d seen all of this done before, and done better. And quite possibly, Alistair thought, he had. Charlotte was trying very hard to look as though she was enjoying the adventure of it all, but her eyes betrayed her real uneasiness.

Eliza looked like she’d rather be anywhere than where she was, but the stubbornness in her face made it clear she was determined not to be impressed by anything that happened. Alistair wondered if she really would drop-kick a ghost through a wall if it annoyed her. He thought he would pay good money to see that.

Crispin was ignoring Alice completely. He seemed more interested in looking round the bar, as though assuring himself that the shadows were still maintaining a respectful distance.

Alistair fixed his gaze on the wall where the shadow of the Pale Rider had appeared, and thought about what might make an appearance this time. And what he was going to do about it, when it did. Like Diana, he was perfectly ready to jump on anything uncanny, and encourage it to explain itself … But he still hadn’t worked out why Alice had been so insistent they hold this second séance. He accepted Eliza’s point, that Alice embraced her role as medium because that made her the centre of everyone’s attention, but he couldn’t help feeling there had to be more to it than that. Had Alice actually managed to convince herself she had genuine abilities? That she really could make weird things happen, at her command? And what would it do to her when she found out she couldn’t? Or was this all part of some plan, to produce even more spectacular events to impress her guests? And above all, why was Alice so certain she could make Giles’s ghost appear?

Alistair didn’t believe that for one moment. But at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it would be if he could see his old friend one last time, so he could apologise for all the things he’d said and done. Or failed to say or do. But then, he felt that way about a lot of the people he’d lost during his life. Including his parents.

Alistair looked down at his hands, held firmly by Diana and Edward. He found their closeness comforting, in the presence of so much uncertainty. It was always good, to have people you knew you could depend on. The atmosphere in the bar was becoming increasingly tense, full of anticipation for things to come. Everywhere he looked, eyes were fascinated, and backs were so stiff they all but crackled every time someone stirred in their chair, alert for the first sign of anything out of the ordinary. Alistair thought they looked like so many greyhounds straining at the leash, anxious for the off.

Only Alice remained calm and unmoved, with her empty face and closed eyes. She might almost have been sleeping. Norman kept an anxious watch on his wife, but seemed resigned to events unfolding as they would.

Alistair concentrated hard, but try as he might, he didn’t feel anything … It was nothing like the old chapel, where he’d never been able to shake off the feeling he wasn’t alone. As though the chapel had known he was there – sometimes approving of him, and sometimes not. Perhaps exposure to the real thing had immunised him against anything less. He looked at Diana, and found she was looking at him. They shared a quick smile, and then Diana raised an eyebrow, as if to ask Alistair whether he needed her help with anything. Alistair shook his head slightly, and turned his gaze in Alice’s direction, to indicate that was where Diana should be giving her attention.

Alice suddenly sat up straight. Her hands clamped down hard, and both Norman and Crispin winced at the sudden fierce grip. Alice’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but her face remained utterly empty, as though all her thoughts, all that mattered of her, were somewhere else. When she suddenly started speaking her voice sounded deeper, harsher, more commanding.

‘Giles Mason! I know you can hear me. Your spirit hasn’t had time to travel far. Come to us. Speak to us. Tell us who murdered you.’

The tension on the air was so heavy it had a presence all on its own. Though how much of what Alistair was feeling was real, and how much he was picking up from everyone else, was open to question. Nothing appeared in answer to Alice’s summons, not even a whisper on the quiet or a stirring in the shadows. It was deathly silent all through the bar, and so hushed around the table that Alistair could hear everyone else’s rapid breathing. But there was no sense of any other presence in the bar.

A deep frown creased Alice’s forehead, and her mouth tightened. She spoke again, her voice calm and steady.

‘Nothing can keep you from us, Giles. All your friends have gathered here to talk to you, and to listen. Come out of the dark and into the light, and join us.’

The utter certainty in her voice as she called out to a dead man was enough to raise the hackles on Alistair’s neck. There was a sense of imminence on the air, of something just on the edge of happening. But still, there was no manifestation, no answering voice from beyond.

The tension built until it was almost painful, and Alistair could see the others starting to break under the weight of it. Whatever belief they might have had in Alice was running out as nothing happened … and continued not to happen. Not least because Alice had seemed so sure. The others had convinced themselves because she seemed so convinced.

And then the tension was suddenly gone, like the bursting of an over-inflated balloon, and they were only a group of people sitting around a table, holding hands and feeling more than a bit self-conscious about it. Never mind the complete failure of Giles’s ghost to materialise, there hadn’t even been any of the manifestations they’d experienced before. No knocking sounds, no tilting of the table, no chair falling over. No one was ready to say they’d wanted to see or hear anything like that again, but there was a general feeling that they’d been let down. Alistair looked to Alice. She didn’t open her eyes, but she could clearly feel control of the situation slipping away from her. Norman leaned in close to murmur in her ear, but she dismissed him with an impatient shake of her head. She raised her voice again, letting it crack like a whip.

‘Sit still, all of you! Giles is very near.’

‘Then why hasn’t he shown himself?’ said Alistair.

‘Why doesn’t he speak to us?’ said Diana.

‘Perhaps we should try one knock for yes, two for no,’ Edward said helpfully.

Alice’s voice changed again, becoming calm, almost matter-of-fact.

‘I can see him. I can hear him.’

Eliza smiled knowingly round the table. ‘This is it. This is where she pretends she can hear Giles accusing someone, so she can dump the blame on someone she doesn’t like.’

Alice sat up straight in her chair, and looked suddenly uncertain. ‘I don’t understand … Is there anybody here …?’

Heavy hoofbeats suddenly materialised right behind her, and Alice cried out despite herself. The loud, solid clattering sounds slammed down so hard on the bare wooden floor it was a wonder the table didn’t shake in sympathy. Each separate impact was so complete and distinct and threatening it seemed to have something of the infinite in it. The Pale Rider was inside the hotel again, up close and personal. Like a nightmare from the past, given shape and form and terrible purpose. The hoofbeats progressed steadily round the table, passing by each guest in turn, as though searching for someone in particular. Everyone shrank back in their chair and flinched away from the sounds.

Alistair glared at where the horse seemed to be, but still couldn’t see anything. The hoofbeats advanced steadily toward him and Diana, and Alistair pushed his chair back from the table, ready to get to his feet and place himself between the hoofbeats and Diana. He could feel her hand gripping his tightly, just as ready to throw herself at anything that threatened him.

‘Everyone stay where you are!’ Alistair said loudly. He squeezed Diana’s hand reassuringly to keep her in her seat, and glared in the direction of the circling hoofbeats. ‘Show yourself!’

‘Are you insane?’ said Charlotte. ‘People die when they see the Pale Rider!’

‘A horse this big and heavy, invisible or not, should still have a physical presence,’ Alistair said steadily. ‘It should shake the wooden floor as it passes, but I haven’t felt anything. It hasn’t even nudged aside any of the tables around us.’

He raised his voice, until it reverberated on the still air.

‘I don’t believe in you!’

The hoofbeats stopped. The silence stretched, and then the fierce neighing of an insane horse broke out right next to Alistair, so loud it was almost painful. And Alistair laughed right back at it, as though it was nothing. The neighing broke off, and everything was still and quiet. There was a long pause as everyone looked at each other to see what they should do. Diana smiled at Alistair.

‘I think you upset it,’ she said reproachfully.

‘I’m not convinced there was ever anything here to be upset,’ said Alistair. ‘What we heard was just another distraction, like the shadow on the wall.’

‘Given that the hoofbeats didn’t echo,’ Edward said slowly, ‘and that there were no physical traces of the horse’s presence, could we have been listening to some kind of recording?’

‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ said Alistair.

‘So none of it was real?’ said Eliza.

‘Everything we’ve heard, now and earlier, could have been pre-recorded,’ said Edward. ‘That’s an old trick with mediums.’

‘You mean I got all upset for nothing?’ said Charlotte.

‘But you did put on an excellent performance, my dear,’ said Edward.

Charlotte preened a little. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

‘If we’re all agreed that the séance was a complete waste of time, can we please get the hell out of here?’ said Eliza.

‘I’m not so sure it is over,’ said Crispin.

Something in his voice made everyone turn their heads to look at him. Crispin’s eyes were far away, fixed on something only he could see.

‘I can feel the presence of evil,’ he said quietly. ‘Here, in this room. At this table.’

‘What kind of evil are we talking about?’ Alistair said carefully.

Crispin smiled slowly, and Alistair’s skin crawled as he thought he saw a glimpse of something fey and wild in his old friend’s face, as though the Canon had been touched by something from outside the everyday world.

‘Human evil,’ Crispin said calmly. ‘Someone here is thinking about murder.’

‘Are you a medium too?’ Norman said wonderingly.

‘I am more than that,’ said Crispin. ‘I am a man of God. My faith might have become somewhat uncertain of late, but coming face to face with genuine evil has helped me put a lot of things in perspective.’

Eliza stared at him. Shock had drained all the colour from her face. ‘You think the murderer is right here at the table?’

‘Everyone keep holding hands!’ Norman said desperately. ‘We’re all perfectly safe as long as we’re holding each other’s hands. No one can hurt anybody. And take a good look around the bar. There’s more than enough light for us to be sure there’s no one else here with us.’

‘I’m definitely not seeing anyone,’ said Diana.

‘Then one of us has to be the killer!’ said Eliza.

She struggled to pull her hands free, but no one would release her.

‘Let me go!’ she said loudly. ‘I don’t want to be here!’

‘What makes you think you’d be any safer on your own?’ said Alistair.

Eliza gave up and slumped back in her chair, breathing hard.

‘I haven’t felt safe anywhere since Giles was murdered,’ she said miserably. ‘I wish I’d never come to this awful place.’

‘And miss my wedding?’ said Diana.

Eliza almost smiled. ‘There are limits to friendship.’

‘I know,’ said Diana. ‘I saw the dress you arrived in.’

‘It’s your own fault,’ said Eliza. ‘For being too cheap to spring for a proper bridesmaid’s outfit.’

‘Oh, sweetie,’ said Diana. ‘Of course I did! It’s in my room. I was going to show it to you in the morning.’

Eliza’s face lightened. ‘Really?’

‘Only the best, for my oldest friend,’ said Diana.

They smiled at each other.

Alistair looked steadily at Crispin. ‘You said there was human evil present in this room. Do you know who the murderer is?’

‘I can feel something,’ said Crispin. ‘But it won’t come into focus. I think pinning this one to the mat is going to be down to the Holy Terrors, my boy.’

‘So all you have is a feeling,’ Norman said angrily. ‘What use is that?’

‘How can we be sure of anything, if we can’t trust what we see and hear?’ said Edward.

‘We can’t,’ said Diana.

‘Is the séance over now?’ Charlotte said tentatively.

Edward nodded gravely. ‘I’m pretty sure that if young Giles was going to talk to us, he would have said something by now.’

Diana looked to Alistair. ‘Giles didn’t strike me as the shy and retiring type.’

‘He was never going to appear and talk to us, because the dead don’t come back to point an accusing finger at their murderer,’ Alistair said quietly. ‘I’ve seen enough young people die violently in All Souls Hollow to be sure of that.’

‘Then why were you so keen on this séance taking place?’ said Eliza.

‘Because the look on people’s faces when Alice accused someone could have told me a lot,’ Alistair said easily. ‘But unfortunately, this whole affair has turned out to be something of a washout.’

‘It’s not over yet,’ said Crispin.

Alistair looked sharply at him. ‘If you have something to say, just say it.’

‘I can smell blood,’ said Crispin.

‘I can’t smell anything,’ said Diana.

‘You will,’ said Crispin.

All around the table, people were shaking their heads and looking to each other for answers. Alistair concentrated on Crispin.

‘What makes you so sure?’ he said quietly.

Crispin shrugged. ‘Damned if I know. I’m not some medium, picking up vibrations from our friends on the Other Side. It’s like I’ve heard something, or seen something, that I can’t quite put my finger on.’

Charlotte glared at Alistair. ‘Your High Church friend has lost the plot, big time.’

‘And yet he’s still being more helpful than you,’ said Diana.

Charlotte shot her a betrayed look. ‘That is no way to speak to your mother!’

‘Quite right, my dear,’ said Edward.

Diana glared at both of them. ‘If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.’ She turned away, to look round the table. ‘We can’t leave the hotel until it’s light, and that’s still some hours off. Our best option is to stick together and trust to safety in numbers.’

Eliza shook her head. ‘I just want to go back to my room and lock the door.’

‘That didn’t do much to protect Giles,’ said Alistair. ‘Of course, he would have opened his locked door if someone he cared about came knocking and asking for help.’

Eliza stared at him. ‘Are you accusing me? You saw the row we had!’

‘A very loud and obvious quarrel, that you started,’ said Alistair. ‘What better way to avoid suspicion?’

Eliza looked to Diana. ‘Are you going to let him talk to me like that?’

Diana just shrugged. ‘This is what the Bish does. And he’s very good at it.’

Alistair looked steadily around the table. ‘I don’t have any answers, so all I can do is ask relevant questions. But realistically, any one of us could have knocked on Giles’s door and persuaded him to open it. And every one of us could be talked into doing exactly the same thing, just as easily. The only way to stay safe is to remain in plain sight at all times, in a group.’

‘He’s right,’ said Diana, staring meaningfully round the table. ‘No one can get to us if we just keep our eyes open, and our heads on straight.’

‘But I do believe it’s safe for us to let go of each other’s hands now,’ said Edward. ‘The séance is quite definitely at an end.’

Norman looked at Alice. ‘I think they’re right, dear.’

Alice didn’t say anything. She just sat very still, with her head bowed, as though trying to work out what had gone wrong.

Norman cleared his throat. ‘What do you think, dear? Should we abandon the séance?’

There was still no response. Norman pulled one hand free, so he could take his wife by the shoulders and shake her gently. Alice slumped all the way forward, and slammed her face into the table.

Alistair jerked his hands free from Diana and Edward, and was quickly on his feet. He headed straight for Alice, with Diana right behind him. Norman stared disbelievingly at his wife, his face white with shock. Everyone else abandoned all thought of holding hands and scrambled to their feet, all of them speaking loudly across each other.

Alistair and Diana grabbed Alice by the shoulders, and sat her up. Her head lolled back. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Alistair didn’t even bother to test her breathing with his glasses; he could see the single stab-wound in her chest, and the blood that soaked the front of her dressing gown. Norman sat slumped in his chair, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as though to hold back tears. He was shaking all over, but no one made any move to comfort him; they were all too fascinated by the dead woman.

‘How could she have been killed right in front of us?’ said Eliza. ‘How is that even possible? We were all holding each other’s hands! How could any of us have stabbed her?’

‘No one else came into the bar,’ said Diana. ‘Let alone approached the table. We would have seen them.’

‘Apart from the invisible horse,’ said Edward.

Eliza rounded on him, almost hysterically. ‘You think a horse stabbed her?’

‘No,’ Edward said steadily. ‘But I do think it’s possible that Flying Justice has passed judgement on another sinner.’

Alistair started to say something, and then stopped himself. Let them believe in a flying dagger if they wanted. That would help keep them occupied, while he got on with investigating the murder. A slow cold anger coursed through him, that another victim had died on his watch. He couldn’t see anything he could have done to prevent it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Diana saw the look on his face and patted him on the arm, understandingly.

‘We have to destroy the dagger!’ Charlotte said loudly. ‘Break into that stupid chapel, rip the dagger off the wall, and stamp on the blade till it breaks!’

Edward hushed her repeatedly, until she stopped and turned away. He put his arms around her, and she leaned heavily against him.

‘I can’t take any more of this,’ she said quietly. ‘I just can’t.’

‘Does this mean the dagger can be invisible, as well as fly?’ Eliza said shakily.

‘There was no dagger,’ said Diana. ‘Flying Justice is just a legend.’

‘Like the Pale Rider?’ said Eliza.

Norman turned his head sharply to face everyone.

‘The dagger was never anything more than just a story! A legend so old even the local townspeople had forgotten all about it, until Alice found a reference to it in an old book and we decided to revive it.’

‘Most old legends turn out to have some basis in fact,’ said Edward.

‘This is nothing to do with any dagger,’ said Crispin. ‘The evil I felt came from a human heart.’

‘We were all holding hands!’ Eliza said loudly. ‘It’s impossible for one of us to be the killer!’

‘Yes,’ said Alistair. ‘That does make it difficult, doesn’t it?’

Eliza rounded on him. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Playing the great detective and pretending you know all the answers.’

‘All of this started with my old friend’s death,’ Alistair said steadily. ‘And I will not stop until I’ve worked out who’s responsible.’

‘But what are you going to do?’ said Eliza.

Alistair thought about that. It was a fair question. He realised everyone was looking at him in the same way: hope, mixed with accusation. He smiled calmly back at them.

‘It would appear I have some thinking to do.’

SEVEN

Answers And Endings

It took Alistair and Diana some time to ease Norman away from his dead wife. They finally persuaded him to sit down on a chair by the bar, and he just stayed there, staring at nothing and not seeming to hear anything anyone said. Alistair left Crispin to keep a watchful eye on him, while he went back to check the state of the body. There was only the one stab-wound, in the chest, just like Giles, suggesting that both victims had been killed with the same knife, by the same killer.

Alistair gestured to Diana, and they moved a little away from the rest of the group, so they could talk quietly.

‘I think we were supposed to believe that both Giles and Alice could have been killed by Flying Justice,’ said Alistair. ‘To explain the supernatural appearance and disappearance of the fatal weapon. But the blade of the dagger I saw in the chapel was far too thin to make a wound that big. And anyway, Flying Justice was only supposed to hunt down great sinners who had somehow escaped justice. I can’t see either victim as having done anything bad enough to make them an appropriate target.’

‘But no one at the table could have killed Alice,’ Diana said helplessly. ‘We were all holding hands! And no one else could have got anywhere near the table without someone noticing.’

‘Can we really be sure everyone was holding hands, all of the time?’ said Alistair.

‘If anyone had let go, even for a moment,’ said Diana, ‘the person they’d been holding on to would have been bound to raise a fuss, after Alice made such a song and dance about how dangerous that could be.’

‘There is still a way in which it could have been done,’ said Alistair.

Diana smiled. ‘You’ve thought of something.’

‘I may have an idea,’ said Alistair.

He signalled for Edward to come over and join them. Charlotte didn’t want him to go, clutching desperately at his hand, and Edward had to throw Diana an imploring look. She went back to sit with Charlotte so Edward could get away. Charlotte immediately clung to Diana, as though Diana had become the mother and Charlotte the child. Alistair nodded to Edward as he arrived.

‘I know this is a crime scene and we’re not supposed to move the body, but the police won’t be getting here any time soon, and as long as Alice remains sitting there in plain sight, no one here will be able to think straight. Or answer questions.’

‘We could always throw a tablecloth over her,’ said Edward.

Alistair looked at him. ‘That might work on stage, but I don’t think it would have the same effect here. In fact, I would have to say that making the body look not unlike a ghost would probably freak people out even more.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ said Edward.

‘I think we should put Alice out of sight behind the main bar,’ said Alistair. ‘At least that way, people won’t have to keep looking at her. People’s nerves are in a bad enough way as it is.’

‘We could all move to another room,’ Edward said tentatively.

‘Do you know of another room big enough to hold all of us?’ said Alistair.

‘Not really, no,’ said Edward.

‘Then why are you so keen not to move the body?’

Edward sighed. ‘Because I really don’t want to have to touch it.’

Alistair nodded. ‘Think of it as a prop,’ he said kindly.

They explained to the others what they were going to do, and no one objected. Alistair and Edward lifted Alice out of her chair, carried her behind the bar, and laid her on the floor at the far end. Edward rubbed his hands hard against his hips as they moved out from behind the main bar, and Alistair pretended not to notice. Everyone else did seem to relax a little, now the body was no longer in plain view. Apart from Norman, who didn’t appear to have noticed anything.

‘He really is out of it,’ said Edward.

‘Shock,’ said Alistair. ‘I’ve seen it before.’

‘Probably a blessing,’ said Edward.

Alistair turned to Crispin, who left Norman and came over to join them.

‘Now the storm has stopped, it should be safe enough for you to drive me into town, so we can raise the alarm.’

‘Of course,’ said Crispin, absently patting his pockets for his car keys.

‘You’re not going to just run off and leave us, are you?’ Charlotte said loudly. ‘Couldn’t we all cram into the car? We could sit on each other’s laps.’

‘My car is big,’ said Crispin. ‘But not that big.’

‘Well, what about Norman’s car?’ said Charlotte. ‘We all heard him say he had a car!’

‘But he didn’t say where he kept it,’ said Alistair. ‘And I don’t think he’s in any state to answer questions.’

‘The killer is almost certainly still here with us,’ said Edward, careful not to look at anyone in particular.

‘Just stick together, and you’ll be safe,’ said Alistair.

‘That didn’t protect Alice,’ said Eliza.

Diana glared at her. ‘Really not helping …’

‘Ignoring a problem won’t make it go away,’ said Eliza.

‘We’re on our guard now,’ said Diana. ‘And I’d bet on the two of us against most people.’

‘I hate this,’ Charlotte said miserably. ‘I hate being trapped here, and I hate not knowing what’s going on and who I can trust.’

Edward went back to sit beside her.

‘Come on, girl. We’ve faced opening nights in a play we knew stunk to high heaven, facing an audience packed with critics. What’s this, compared to that?’

Charlotte smiled, just a little, and did her best to appear brave. Crispin finally retrieved his car keys from the correct pocket, and nodded to Alistair.

‘Don’t take too long,’ said Edward.

‘We’ll be back before you know it,’ said Alistair.

‘You’d better be,’ said Diana. She looked at Crispin. ‘Drive like the wind.’

‘I always do,’ said Crispin.

Back in the lobby, Alistair retrieved the front-door key from behind the reception desk. He unlocked the door and led the way out into the night, which seemed almost eerily calm now the storm had moved on. Crispin stuck close beside him as they waited while their eyes adjusted to the gloom. The Rolls gradually emerged as a dim dark shape, that only stood out because it was the only vehicle in the car park. When they got to it, Crispin was so eager to unlock the car door he almost dropped his keys, but soon enough the two of them were settling themselves comfortably in their seats.

‘Remember, there are no lights anywhere along this road,’ Alistair said sternly. ‘And any number of unexpected corners.’

‘I shall drive like a chauffeur,’ said Crispin.

But when he turned the key, nothing happened. He tried again, but the starter didn’t make a sound. They looked at each other.

‘There shouldn’t be anything wrong with the Rolls,’ said Crispin. ‘I drove it all the way down here without a single problem.’

‘Anyone could have got to the car, at any time,’ said Alistair. ‘Is there any point in lifting the bonnet, and taking a look at the engine?’

Crispin shook his head. ‘I have no idea how any of it works. I just point the car in the right direction and trust in the Lord. How about you?’

‘I live in London,’ said Alistair. ‘I don’t even own a car.’

‘Then there’s nothing we can do,’ said Crispin, ‘until the hotel’s power is back to normal, and the phones start working again. Unless you want to walk into town?’

Alistair shook his head. ‘We’d have to stumble along in the dark, following the boundary walls. That could take hours. And there’s always the chance the storm could hit us again.’

‘So it’s back to the hotel, and stand guard until morning,’ said Crispin. He looked thoughtfully at Alistair. ‘Do you really believe the murderer is still hiding in the hotel?’

‘I don’t think they’ve even left the bar,’ said Alistair.

Crispin just nodded. ‘The killer is one of us. That was the evil I sensed.’

‘Has to be,’ said Alistair.

Crispin drummed his hands on the steering wheel, and stared straight ahead. ‘Do you know who it is?’

‘I’m working on it,’ said Alistair.

Back in the bar, it didn’t take them long to explain the situation. No one seemed surprised the car had been sabotaged. It had been that kind of night.

‘It’s time for me to ask some questions and get some answers,’ said Alistair.

Diana smiled quickly round at the others. ‘Pay attention, people, and prepare to be amazed. The Bish is really very good at this.’

‘Of course!’ said Edward. ‘It’s that Poirot moment, when the great detective assembles all the suspects in one place so he can reveal what’s really been going on, and why. I’ve played the part on stage several times.’

‘And I always played the murderer!’ Charlotte said happily.

She broke off abruptly, as she realised this might not be quite the right moment to celebrate something like that. She sat back in her chair and pretended to take an interest in something on the opposite side of the bar. Edward pretended to take an interest in the ceiling. Crispin nodded encouragingly to Alistair and Diana, and Eliza glared at them challengingly.

‘You’re the famous Holy Terrors. Mysteries R Us. Go on, then. Show us all how clever you are.’

‘I think we’d probably be more comfortable if we were to seat ourselves at another table,’ Alistair said calmly. ‘Shall we?’

He gestured at a table some distance from where Alice had died. One by one, everyone moved over to it, drew up chairs and sat down. Edward and Alistair had to practically pick Norman up and move him to his new chair. He seemed to have shut down completely.

Alistair took up a position facing the table and did his best to look like he knew what he was doing. He smiled easily at the intent faces staring back at him, waiting for him to make everything make sense. He couldn’t see even a glimmer of guilt in anyone’s eyes.

‘Let’s start with an obvious question,’ he said finally. ‘Did anyone feel someone let go of their hand, during the séance?’

There was an immediate and very firm shaking of heads, even from Norman. They all seemed utterly adamant that no one had let go of their hands, even for a moment. Alistair nodded, to show he believed them. He hadn’t expected anything else.

Edward cleared his throat, in the self-conscious way of someone who had just had an idea and was determined to share it with everyone.

‘Could Alice have been killed because the murderer was afraid she might actually raise Giles’s ghost and have it incriminate them? I’m not saying I believe that’s possible, necessarily, but the killer might have felt guilty enough to believe it.’

‘Alice wasn’t having much luck with her new séance,’ said Diana. ‘Until the hoofbeats showed up, I think we’d all pretty much given up on her.’

‘It’s far more likely the killer needed to silence Alice because she knew something she couldn’t be allowed to tell,’ said Crispin.

‘I think it’s more complicated than that,’ said Alistair.

‘It always is,’ said Diana.

Alistair just nodded and looked round the group, holding everyone’s gaze in turn.

‘The first thing to do is address all the possible motivations. Who had the best reasons to kill first Giles, and then Alice?’

‘You’re assuming the same person killed both of them?’ said Eliza.

‘It would be one hell of a coincidence,’ said Diana, ‘if there were two murderers running around this hotel stabbing people, wouldn’t it?’

Eliza shrugged defiantly. ‘It could happen.’

‘No, it couldn’t,’ Diana said sternly. ‘Stop being difficult.’

‘You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about things!’ said Eliza.

‘But we’ve been thinking sensible things,’ said Diana.

Eliza scowled at her, folded her arms tightly, and put a lot of effort into looking put upon.

‘I examined the wounds on both bodies,’ said Alistair, and everyone’s eyes snapped back to him. ‘I know a lot about knife wounds – that’s what comes from being Bishop of a notoriously violent area like All Souls Hollow. You see the end results of a lot of knife crime. Giles and Alice had exactly the same kind of wound, made with the same kind of knife. And before anyone asks: no, Flying Justice couldn’t have been involved. The old dagger has a very thin blade; the fatal wounds could only have been made by something much wider.

‘So, next we have to ask ourselves who stood to gain from Giles’s and Alice’s deaths? Edward, Diana told me you’ve already admitted you and Charlotte were thinking about how much money you could make by selling a sensational story about Diana and me to the tabloids. What could be more eye-catching than our involvement in two murders?’

‘You can’t be serious,’ said Edward.

‘Your careers have fallen a long way from where they used to be,’ said Alistair. ‘A really sensational story would not only earn you one hell of a lot of money, it could also jump-start your careers. Because in the media, nothing succeeds like excess.’

‘You honestly think we’d murder two people, just for that?’ said Edward.

‘People have done worse, for less,’ said Alistair.

‘I can think of a few critics I would happily do away with,’ Charlotte admitted. ‘And at least one co-star and complete cow who insisted on upstaging me in every scene …’

‘Really not the time, dear,’ Edward murmured.

‘Alistair! Are you actually accusing my mother and father?’ said Diana, her voice rising dangerously.

‘You know how this works,’ said Alistair. ‘I have to consider all the possibilities, weigh them in the balance, and then dismiss those that don’t work. Whatever is left has to be the truth.’

Diana nodded reluctantly and looked round at the others.

‘This is how he gets to the heart of things. Let him do what he has to, and he’ll hand us the murderer’s identity on a plate.’

‘Thank you for the vote of confidence,’ said Alistair.

‘Don’t screw it up,’ said Diana.

‘You could have at least asked him to be a little more polite about it,’ said Edward.

‘That is him being polite,’ said Diana. ‘In fact, he’s bending over backwards to be fair.’

‘But he’s talking about us as though we’re suspects!’ said Charlotte.

‘We all are,’ said Diana. ‘Until he can prove that we’re not. Trust him. I do.’

Charlotte sniffed loudly. ‘I’m not marrying him.’

‘I think we’re all grateful for that,’ said Diana.

For a moment, everyone had some kind of smile.

Alistair looked at Edward, who shrugged impatiently. ‘All right, we did talk about making a deal with the devil, and supplying the media with something so special they’d eat it up with spoons … because we need the money. I never thought our career would end like this. Grubbing for parts in productions that aren’t worthy of us. A good sensational story in the right place would, at the very least, have put enough money in our pockets that we could retire gracefully. Sometimes, you have to settle for what you can get. But we weren’t desperate enough to do anything that would put our daughter at risk! What would it do to her career, if both her parents were revealed as murderers?’

‘Quite right!’ said Charlotte. ‘The very idea. You tell him, Edward.’

‘I am telling him, dear,’ said Edward.

Alistair turned to Eliza. ‘We all saw your blazing row with Giles. Very harsh words indeed … That seemed a bit of an over-reaction, considering how little led up to them. And just a few hours later, Giles is dead. Now I understand why you were angry: you pleaded with him for a job and he turned you down flat. But that must happen a lot in your line of work. Why did this particular refusal hit you so hard?’

Eliza looked to Diana. ‘Are you going to just sit there and let him talk to me like that? You’re supposed to be my friend!’

‘I am always in your corner,’ said Diana. ‘But you need to answer his questions.’

‘You think I’m guilty too!’ said Eliza. She sounded on the edge of tears.

‘Of course I don’t,’ said Diana. ‘But asking questions like this is how we rule you out.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alistair.

‘Get on with it,’ said Diana. ‘And Eliza, tell him what he needs to know.’

Eliza turned reluctantly back to face Alistair. ‘I needed that job. I mean, really needed it. It’s a horribly overcrowded market these days, and my firm, everything I’ve spent years building up, is in danger of going under. I haven’t had a decent assignment in ages. When Diana told me who your best man was, I saw an opportunity, and a lifeline. If I could just hit him with my pitch, face to face, make it clear I was ready to take on any campaign he had in mind … But he didn’t want to know. Didn’t even pause to think about it. He destroyed all my hopes, my last chance at saving my career, and you wonder why I was so mad at him?’

‘Giles had a lot on his mind,’ said Alistair. ‘And he didn’t understand how important your pitch was, because you never told him. Because you didn’t want anyone to know just how desperate your situation is.’

‘I couldn’t tell anyone!’ said Eliza. ‘No one ever gives work to a failure.’

‘Eliza,’ said Diana, ‘why didn’t you tell me? I could have put some pressure on a few people, got you a handful of gigs to tide you over, just till we could get together and work something out.’

‘And admit to you that I’d failed?’ said Eliza.

‘I wouldn’t have cared!’ said Diana.

‘I would!’ said Eliza. ‘And don’t look at me like that! You have no right to judge me. We were going to do great things together … but you went off to be rich and famous and left me behind, to work and work and get nowhere. I am really good at what I do, but somehow, the well-paying gigs always go to somebody else.’

‘But that’s what this business is like,’ said Diana. ‘Some people do well, and some don’t, and it has nothing to do with talent or hard work. Most of it’s just down to the luck of the draw, and you either learn to live with that, or you find yourself a new line of work.’

‘But it’s not fair!’ said Eliza.

‘Life isn’t fair,’ said Diana. ‘That’s why people have to be.’

By now they were both on their feet and facing each other. They hugged suddenly, and held each other tightly.

‘Friends?’ said Eliza.

‘Always,’ said Diana.

They broke apart, stepped back, smiled at each other and sat down again. Diana frowned and looked thoughtfully at Eliza.

‘What kind of story about Alistair and me were you planning on selling to the tabloids?’

Eliza shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I was just going to make something up.’

‘Of course you were,’ Diana said briskly. ‘That’s what I always do. The editors don’t care; it’s always all about how good the story is, not whether it’s even remotely connected to the truth.’

Eliza grinned suddenly. ‘Were you by any chance planning on selling them a story yourself?’

‘I might have been,’ said Diana, grinning back at her.

Alistair gave Diana a hard look. ‘If I end up reading an account of our wedding night in some Sunday paper, I am going to be very upset.’

‘Relax,’ said Diana. ‘I’ll make you sound amazing.’

‘What makes you think you’ll need to make me sound amazing?’ said Alistair.

‘Down, boy,’ said Diana.

They realised everyone was looking at them. Diana stared calmly back at them, and Alistair nodded to Eliza to continue. She shrugged uncomfortably.

‘After Diana asked me to be her bridesmaid, I thought if I could just network everyone I met, maybe I could charm somebody into offering me some work. But Edward clearly wasn’t in a position to offer me anything, and Charlotte actually tried to pitch me her services. I still thought Giles was my best bet, till he kicked me to the kerb without even thinking about it, the bastard.’

‘Don’t speak ill of the dead,’ said Edward. ‘They might be listening.’

Alistair turned to Crispin, who smiled back at him.

‘Is it my turn to be accused now? At my age, that’s rather flattering. It’s been a long time since I had the energy to get up to anything really wicked. But what possible reason could I have, for wanting to kill Giles or Alice? I never met either of them before I arrived here.’

‘But there’s something off about you,’ said Alistair. ‘You haven’t been yourself, or at least not the man I remember, ever since we met up again. What could possibly have gone so wrong in your life, to drive you so far from the man who taught me everything I know about faith?’

Crispin took his time, choosing his words carefully.

‘You think as you grow older, you’ll grow wiser. But you don’t. Old certainties fall away. Things you thought you could build your life on turn out to be built on sand. And beliefs you thought would define your life forever just blow away like dust on the wind. You end up realising that not only do you not know all the answers, you’re not even sure about the questions.

‘I have been going through a crisis of faith for some time now. No longer sure what I believe in, or even if I believe in anything. I seriously considered giving up my office and leaving the Church, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I gave up everything else I might have had in life to serve my beliefs, and it honestly never occurred to me that at the end, the Church might not care. That it took my declaration of faith for granted, as its due. So, I simply hung on at Cambridge, going through the motions. Just another academic with a comfortable position, coasting on his reputation and waiting to die.

‘And then, out of nowhere, you contacted me. My greatest student, my one and only real success, a true man of faith. Respected and admired. Everything I used to think I was … I agreed to marry you and Diana because we were friends, but also in the hope some of your certainty might rub off and jump-start mine. But after everything I’ve seen and experienced in this hotel, I’ve been made to believe, in spite of myself. I’ve seen wonders and marvels, ghosts and strange happenings. I even got to perform an exorcism!’

‘But none of that was real,’ said Alistair. ‘None of it was what it appeared to be.’

‘But I didn’t know that at the time!’ said Crispin. ‘What I felt, what I believed when I was put to the test, was real. When danger threatened, I found my faith again. It doesn’t matter that we were tricked and fooled; my response was real. And part of my faith, then and now, has always been: Thou shalt not kill.’

Alistair nodded slowly, and turned to Norman, still sitting quietly on his chair and staring at nothing, letting the conversation just wash over him. Alistair had to say the man’s name three times before Norman would even turn his head to look at him. His face showed nothing at all.

‘Finally,’ said Alistair. ‘We come to our host, who’s been rather more than that, all along.’

‘You think I killed my wife?’ said Norman. His voice was flat and empty.

‘Tell us what’s really been going on here, Norman,’ said Alistair.

‘The hotel has been failing for some time,’ Norman said slowly. ‘That’s why Alice and I were so keen to host a celebrity wedding. And yes, we faked the first séance so we would have a story exciting enough to sell to the tabloids. We needed to raise a lot of money in a hurry, or face losing the hotel.’

‘You were messing with our heads right from the first moment we arrived,’ said Alistair. ‘When Giles announced he could sense another presence in the lobby during that first power cut, did you just take advantage of the situation, or did you arrange for the lights to go out and provide Giles with a script in advance? He was very good. So convincing he actually persuaded Eliza she could feel a presence too. And then you, Norman, told us you could hear something breathing …’

‘But no one else heard anything,’ said Diana. ‘Bish, are you saying Giles was in on this all along?’

‘He had to be,’ said Alistair. ‘Norman and Alice needed someone on the inside, to apparently accept what was happening and help spread the fear. Someone we’d believe, because they were one of us. The supernatural effects at the first séance were easy enough to work out. Pre-recorded sound effects issuing from hidden speakers, triggered by a remote control Norman kept out of sight at all times. A length of wire attached to the chair, that Alice could tug on unobtrusively when no one was looking, to make it fall over. I’m not sure about the glass that broke behind the bar. Did you deliberately leave it balanced on the edge of the bar top, Norman, and just hope some vibration would send it over? It doesn’t matter.

‘The table rose up because either you or Alice pressed your knee against it. And it turned out there was a mechanism attached to the underside of the table, to produce the knocking noises. That’s why I dropped my handkerchief, so I could take a look.’

‘Giles said he couldn’t see any mechanism,’ said Diana.

‘So he did,’ said Alistair. ‘But I was already suspicious of him, because of what happened when he first turned up at the hotel and Norman greeted him as Mr Mason.’

‘I knew his name from when he made his booking,’ said Norman.

‘But how did you recognise him?’ said Alistair. ‘People don’t normally send photos when they book online. He could have been anyone. A taxi driver, a delivery man … And let us not forget, Giles was the one who originally recommended the Pale Rider hotel to me.’

‘He found us online,’ said Norman.

‘Yes,’ said Alistair. ‘He went looking for somewhere suitable after I contacted him about being best man. When he discovered all the supernatural baggage that came with this hotel, he saw an opportunity. And when he contacted you, so did you and Alice. That’s what gave the three of you enough time to set all of this up. But let’s go back to the beginning, and walk through exactly what’s been going on here.’

Alistair put on his best thoughtful expression, and everyone else stared back at him with fascinated faces as they waited for him to spell it all out. Alistair took a deep breath, and plunged right in.

‘When in doubt, it’s always about the money. A séance involving the Holy Terrors would make for a good story, but still wouldn’t raise the kind of money the Makepeaces needed to save their business. They had to hit the jackpot. However … a story that involved Diana and me, and actual supernatural events … They could have named their own price for a piece like that. And with Giles on their side, they must have thought they could make us believe anything. He was certainly ready to do anything, because he was just as desperate as they were.’

He looked at Diana. ‘I told you I did my research on Giles before we came here, because I wanted to catch up on what he’d been doing since we last met. It didn’t take me long to realise his company hadn’t run a really successful campaign in ages. And awards, nice as they are, don’t pay the bills. Giles’s business was on the edge of going under.’

Alistair switched his gaze to Eliza. ‘He didn’t offer you any work because he couldn’t afford to hire you.’

He looked out over the group again. ‘And here … is where I start moving into guesswork. Though I am pretty certain this is what happened. The supernatural events at the first séance were all carefully planned, scripted, and rehearsed. Norman and Alice knew they had to pile on the drama, if they were going to end up with a story they could sell. They were in charge of everything that happened, with Giles helping out, as and when needed. Each of them was careful to do something that would hold our attention while someone else did whatever was necessary to sell the illusion.

‘Most of it was nothing more than suggestion, mind games, and just enough apparent phenomena that we would convince ourselves.’ He nodded to Norman. ‘The highlight was the shadow on the wall. But I’m afraid the sudden bright light from the corridor was the real giveaway. There was no reason for it to be there, except to project the pre-prepared image of the Pale Rider. Just long enough to make an impression, but not long enough for most people to realise … it was flat. An unmoving image, with no depth to it.

‘But we had all been primed to accept it, because Norman and Alice had started selling us on the notion of the Pale Rider right from the beginning. The sign hanging outside, depicting the Pale Rider in all his skeletal glory, was specifically designed to catch our eye. But I didn’t remember seeing anything that distinctive in any of the photos on the hotel’s website. That sign had been specially manufactured and put in place just for our visit, to fix the image of the Pale Rider in our minds, so we’d be prepared to accept the legend when Norman and Alice spelled it out for us.

‘But while the old story has indeed been around for a while, just like Flying Justice, no one local has believed in the Pale Rider for generations. I checked up before I came here, because I’ve become interested in things like that. The Pale Rider is almost forgotten, outside of a few specialised websites. I’m sure the occasional enthusiast turns up from time to time, but not nearly as many as Norman and Alice had us believe. In fact, not many people come here at all. This place is simply too far off the beaten track and doesn’t offer anything that can’t be found in more easily accessible hotels.

‘So, Norman, your business was going to the wall. Seems like there’s a lot of it going around, at the moment. I was able to confirm that when I searched through the drawers in your desk at reception, looking for the front-door key, and found a whole bunch of unpaid bills. When Diana and I chose this hotel for our wedding, you realised just how useful we could be. Even apart from the money you’d get from selling us out to the tabloids, once you’d spread the story of the Holy Terrors and their encounter with the supernatural, you could be sure new guests would come hammering on your door, desperate for a taste of the same experience.

‘How am I doing, Norman?’

The hotel manager stared silently back at him.

‘You also did your best to sell Diana and me the myth of room Thirteen,’ said Alistair. ‘The room that wasn’t always there, that people sometimes entered and didn’t come out of again. A room that appeared to Diana and me as number Thirteen, and then as Fourteen. All to establish the idea that this was the kind of hotel where weird things happened. Of course, once I had time to think about it, the answer was obvious. There never was a room Thirteen. It didn’t show up on the floor-plan on the wall. That room was renumbered as Fourteen long ago, because no one would stay there. And no hotel could stand the thought of having a room lying empty and unoccupied. All you had to do, to fool Diana and me, was fit a false number plaque showing the number Thirteen on top of the actual number Fourteen, and then remove the plaque before we could get back again to check it out. But … how were you able to get ahead of us so quickly?

‘Diana and I paid a little visit to the old chapel, earlier on. That was while the storm was still going strong, which was why we turned up all windswept and waterlogged. We discovered a hidden door in the chapel wall that opened onto a secret tunnel, which I have no doubt connects the chapel directly to the hotel. That made us think of the old-time smugglers who first created the legend of the Pale Rider. They must have established hidden tunnels everywhere, so they could move their smuggled goods around without being seen. The hotel had to have been their main centre of operations, given that it was the only building next to the coastline. And the existence of one secret tunnel suggested the possibility of more inside the hotel. Presumably, you discovered their existence when you took over the hotel, Norman. Or did the previous owners tell you? It doesn’t matter. You used the tunnels to get ahead of Diana and me as we made our way up the stairs, so you could manufacture those ghostly footsteps on the floor above us. And later on, to gain access to the first floor without anyone seeing or hearing you … so you could surprise Giles in his room, and kill him.

‘Why did he have to die, Norman? I think probably because, although he was a part of the plot against us from the beginning, it just started to grate on you that he was going to get such a large part of the gold at the end of the media. And there was always the chance he might have an attack of conscience, at some point, and spill the beans to his old friend. By killing Giles in a way you hoped would tie into the legend of the Flying Justice dagger, it would add more detail to the story you were selling, of a hotel haunted by legendary horrors, and murderous threats from the past.

‘Of course Giles would unlock his door for you; he had no reason not to. You just stuck your knife into him, and then disappeared back into the secret passage.’ Alistair paused, looking thoughtfully at the impassive face before him. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever know why Giles turned on me. Maybe he was just jealous that I’d become a success and he hadn’t. Perhaps he simply didn’t recognise me as his old friend any more. We’d both changed a lot.’

‘Hold on,’ said Diana. ‘We’d already decided that both victims were killed by the same person. Are you saying Norman also killed his own wife?’

‘Yes,’ said Alistair.

Low murmurs moved through the group, and they all stared incredulously at Norman. He sat very still, his face empty of all emotion, his gaze fixed on Alistair.

‘Why would he kill Alice?’ said Diana. ‘I mean, they were both in this together, weren’t they?’

‘Something happened that Norman hadn’t accounted for,’ said Alistair. ‘Alice lost the plot. You see, I don’t think he told her that he’d killed Giles, because he didn’t want her to see him as being capable of such a thing. But that death, coming out of nowhere, must have come as a real shock to her. She didn’t know what to believe any more. As a result, she managed to convince herself she had actual abilities as a medium. That she really could raise up Giles’s spirit and ask it who killed him. And that made her a loose cannon, a danger to the scheme … and to Norman.

‘He went along with her idea for a second séance, even though he had nothing planned for it, because it would add to the story he still needed to sell to the media. He found enough time to set up his recording of hoofbeats again, and move some of the hidden speakers into positions around the table. But Alice had become a liability, and after killing Giles to get his share of the money, it must have been a very short step for Norman to think, Why share the money with anyone?

‘But Norman and Alice always seemed so close,’ said Diana.

‘I think the key word there is seemed,’ said Alistair. ‘Underneath all the banter and the shared smiles, what I really saw was Alice putting Norman down and keeping him in his place. And him putting up with it because he loved her. But then I thought, what if he didn’t?’

‘Wait a minute, wait,’ said Diana. ‘You’re going too fast. We still have the basic problem: how could anyone at the table have killed Alice when everyone was holding each other’s hands?’

‘There was an article in Fortean Times magazine, not long ago,’ said Alistair. ‘It went into great detail about the kind of tricks the old-time mediums used. And one of the things this article touched on was why mediums started wearing gloves. It had nothing to do with insulating the medium from the flow of psychic energies. The mediums had to develop ways of getting past the restrictions that certain suspicious investigators put on them. Everything from handcuffs to lengths of steel chain, to hold the medium firmly in place and prevent them from getting up to any tricks.

‘One of the best answers the mediums came up with was to wear specially prepared gloves. They contained secret implants, that would make the gloves continue to hold their shape whether there was a hand inside them or not. The medium could then secretly withdraw their hand, under cover of the usual gloom, and the person holding the glove wouldn’t be able to tell. Now Alice wasn’t intending any tricks this time, but no doubt Norman persuaded her to wear the gloves for old times’ sake, and because they would add to the drama of the occasion.

‘But unfortunately, the trick worked both ways. Alice wouldn’t have been able to tell when Norman carefully eased his hand out from hers, because she wouldn’t have been able to feel that past the glove’s supports. All he had to do was wait for everyone’s attention to be held by the hoofbeats circling the table, and then stab her while we were all preoccupied. And then he just slipped his hand back into her gloved dead hand, and that was that.’

Alistair stopped, and waited for Norman to respond. He smiled slowly.

‘You think you’re so clever,’ he said, in a perfectly calm and reasonable voice. ‘But I was laughing at you the whole time, and you never knew. Of course, I’ve had a lot of practice when it comes to hiding my true feelings. Like when I played the genial host for my guests, or the good husband to a woman who’d been a millstone round my neck for so long.

‘I was trapped in this awful life, with no way out, until you decided to get married here … and I finally saw a chance to make my escape.’

He stood up, and there was a knife in his hand. ‘I think I’ll be going now. Nobody move, or I’ll cut up one of you as a warning. Really, it won’t bother me at all.’

Alistair gestured urgently for everyone to stay still, and then raised his voice to draw Norman’s attention back to him.

‘I’ve seen that knife before, Norman. You used it to slice a lemon behind the bar, for Charlotte’s Campari. The blade is exactly the right width to match the wound left in Giles.’

‘What better way to hide a murder weapon than in plain sight?’ said Norman.

He swept the knife back and forth before him, and started to back away. And then Edward stood up, and when he spoke, his voice was perfectly calm.

‘Everyone on their feet, and spread out. The moment he tries to attack anyone, the rest of us can jump him. He can’t deal with all of us.’

‘I’ll butcher every single one of you, if I have to,’ said Norman.

‘No, you won’t,’ said Edward, and his voice was full of contempt. ‘Stabbing people who had no reason to see you as a threat is all you’re good for.’

Norman smiled. ‘You ready to bet your life on that?’

‘Yes,’ said Edward. ‘Rather than let you get away with murder.’

‘Darling,’ said Charlotte, ‘I have never been more proud of you.’

She rose to her feet, and Eliza and Crispin followed her example. Diana moved quickly to stand beside Alistair. The whole group spread out to form a semi-circle facing Norman.

‘You see,’ said Edward. ‘This is what happens when you make people so angry all they can think of is stopping you.’

‘You can’t honestly believe you can take me down with your bare hands,’ said Norman.

‘I can always hit you with a chair,’ said Charlotte.

‘I think I’d prefer a table,’ said Diana.

‘And I’m really good at throwing things,’ said Eliza.

Edward picked up one of the heavy candlesticks from the bar top and hefted it meaningfully.

‘And I really could take you with my bare hands, Norman,’ said Alistair.

‘Damn right, he can,’ said Diana. ‘I’ve seen him do it.’

‘I wouldn’t mind one of those candlesticks, if there’s a spare going,’ said Crispin.

Norman snarled at them all, turned abruptly, and disappeared behind the main bar.

‘We’ve got him cornered!’ said Edward. ‘Just block the way to the kitchen door!’

Diana, Charlotte, and Eliza moved quickly to fill the doorway. Edward and Alistair moved cautiously behind the bar, with Crispin bringing up the rear. But there was no sign of Norman anywhere. Only Alice’s body, lying on the floor. She seemed to stare reproachfully at Edward and Alistair, for letting her killer get away. Diana, Charlotte, and Eliza realised something had gone wrong, and hurried over to crowd in behind the men. The empty space behind the main bar stared blankly back at them, and for a long moment, no one said anything.

‘There must be one of those hidden doors tucked away here somewhere,’ said Edward, ‘leading to another secret passage.’

‘And Norman’s had such a head start he could be anywhere in the hotel by now,’ said Eliza.

Diana glared at her. ‘Don’t you ever have anything positive to say?’

Eliza glared right back at her. ‘It hasn’t been that kind of a day, has it?’

‘Norman must be trying to get outside,’ said Alistair, ‘so he can just drive off and disappear.’

‘We need to block the road to town,’ said Diana.

‘What with?’ said Crispin. ‘My Rolls has been immobilised, remember?’

‘I don’t know!’ said Diana. ‘The road is pretty narrow; maybe we could block it with some of that heavy furniture in the lobby.’

‘I’ll go straight there, and see what I can move,’ said Crispin. ‘If Norman shows up, I’ll raise the alarm.’

‘Don’t go on your own,’ said Alistair.

‘I wasn’t planning to,’ said Crispin.

‘Charlotte and I will go with you,’ said Edward.

‘We know all there is to know, when it comes to moving heavy furniture across a stage,’ said Charlotte.

‘Keep your eyes open,’ said Alistair. ‘But whatever you do, don’t try to tackle Norman on your own.’

‘Then how are we supposed to keep him from leaving?’ said Charlotte.

‘I don’t know,’ said Alistair. ‘Throw smaller pieces of furniture at him?’

Charlotte smiled. ‘I can do that.’

‘Trust me,’ said Edward. ‘She’s very good at that.’

‘Just keep him from getting away,’ said Alistair. ‘And wait for us to join you. Remember, he’s already killed two people. He’s got nothing to lose.’

Crispin gathered up Edward and Charlotte with his eyes, and they strode purposefully out of the bar. Alistair looked at Diana.

‘Your mother seems a lot more focused, now she has something to do.’

‘A real crisis always brings out the best in her,’ said Diana. ‘Which is probably why she starts so many.’

Alistair, Diana, and Eliza searched the main bar for a hidden door. They banged on all the fixtures and fittings, searched for trapdoors in the floor and any kind of hinged panel, but everything in plain sight seemed stubbornly ordinary. Until Alistair noticed that one of the small freezer units was standing slightly ajar. He took a firm hold on it, and the freezer swivelled suddenly out to reveal a dark opening.

‘This whole building must be riddled with tunnels,’ said Diana, as she crowded in beside Alistair. ‘It’s a wonder to me the hotel hasn’t collapsed in on itself long ago.’

‘Smugglers knew a lot about building tunnels,’ Alistair said vaguely.

He turned away from the opening and picked up three of the lit candlesticks from the bar top. He handed one to Diana, but Eliza backed away, shaking her head.

‘No way,’ she said flatly. ‘I am not chasing a murderer into a dark tunnel. I know my limitations.’

‘Then stay here,’ Alistair said kindly. ‘Diana and I will handle this.’

‘But what if Norman gives you the slip and comes back?’ said Eliza.

‘Then run like hell to the lobby and join the others,’ said Diana. ‘It’s either that or come with us.’

‘I am staying right here,’ said Eliza. She smiled sadly at Diana. ‘Not everyone has it in them to play the heroine.’

‘I’m no heroine,’ said Diana. ‘But I’ve acted the part often enough that I can fake it.’

Alistair put the third candlestick back on the bar top and looked steadily at Diana.

‘We can’t let Norman get away. Not after everything he’s done, and might still do. A man on the run, with a knife … God help anyone who gets in his way.’

He stopped and glanced back at Eliza. ‘I don’t like to leave you here on your own.’

‘She’s old enough to make her own decisions,’ said Diana.

‘Damn right,’ said Eliza.

‘Fair enough,’ said Alistair. ‘But Eliza … put your back against a wall, and keep your eyes open.’

‘Like I needed to be told that,’ said Eliza.

‘See you later,’ said Diana.

‘You’d better,’ said Eliza.

Alistair moved forward into the dark of the tunnel, holding his candle out before him. Diana stuck close beside him, holding her candlestick high to spread its light as far as possible.

The tunnel stretched away before them, the warm glow of the candlelight revealing its details, step by step. Packed earth walls had been reinforced here and there by rotting wooden supports and the occasional rough stone pillar. The earth floor was packed so tight it felt like stone under their feet, and the earth ceiling appeared equally solid. The tunnel was only just wide enough to allow Alistair and Diana to creep along, shoulder to shoulder. Darkness surrounded the pool of light they moved in, making the tunnel feel even more claustrophobic, as though they were walking through the guts of the earth.

They moved steadily forward, straining their eyes against the gloom ahead. The only sound in the tunnel was the steady impact of their feet on the hard tunnel floor. After a while, Alistair realised that the floor was sloping steadily downwards, and had been for some time.

‘I don’t think this is taking us anywhere inside the hotel,’ he said quietly.

‘Then it must be taking us outside,’ said Diana. ‘Back to the cliffs, or out onto the moor.’

‘Most likely the moor,’ said Alistair. ‘So Norman can cut straight across the open space to town.’

‘What good will that do him?’ said Diana.

‘They don’t know what he’s done,’ said Alistair. ‘It’s always possible he has a friend there, with a car he could borrow. The point for him now is to get away and worry about where he’s going when he gets there. And he has to move quickly, because he must know we’d be coming after him.’

And then both of them stopped suddenly and listened hard, as a series of low creaking noises echoed on the air from somewhere up ahead.

‘That doesn’t sound like footsteps,’ said Alistair.

‘It could be something structural,’ said Diana. ‘This is a really old tunnel, and those wooden supports were never meant to last this long.’

‘We can’t just stand here and debate it,’ said Alistair. ‘Every moment we hesitate means that Norman is getting further ahead of us.’

‘But what if he’s lying in wait, around a corner?’ said Diana.

Alistair held his candlestick as high as he could, and the light showed a very straight tunnel falling away.

‘I’m not expecting to see a corner any time soon,’ he said. ‘These tunnels were designed to move contraband goods from one place to another as quickly as possible. If we just keep pressing forward, the tunnel has to lead us to an exit point onto the moor.’

‘I really don’t like those creaking sounds,’ said Diana, not moving. ‘What if the smugglers left some kind of booby trap behind them? To be used in an emergency, if the revenue men pursued them down this tunnel?’

‘Norman’s already been this way,’ said Alistair. ‘And he didn’t set anything off.’

He moved steadily forward, holding his candlestick out before him. Diana sighed heavily, just loud enough to make sure he heard her, and moved in beside him again. They made good progress along the tunnel, right up until the point when Diana stepped on a part of the earth floor that looked no different from any other, and it sank slightly under her weight. There was a loud grinding noise as some ancient mechanism stirred from its long sleep, and the tunnel was suddenly full of loud strainings and groanings. Streams of dirt fell from the ceiling.

‘Sorry!’ said Diana, looking wildly about her. ‘Sorry!’

‘Run!’ said Alistair.

They charged down the tunnel, grimly hanging on to their candlesticks, and a whole section of the roof thundered down behind them, blocking the way back. Thick smoke billowed down the tunnel after them, but they just kept going until they’d outrun it. They finally stumbled to a halt, and checked each other quickly to make sure they were OK.

‘Booby traps and deadfalls,’ said Alistair. ‘I hate smugglers. I’m sorry, Diana, I should have listened to you.’

‘I’m amazed the damned trap still worked after all these years,’ said Diana. ‘Though I think I’m even more amazed our candles didn’t go out.’

‘Be thankful for small mercies,’ said Alistair.

‘Oh, I am,’ said Diana. ‘Trust me.’

They peered back through the slowly settling smoke and dust, until they could just make out the wall of rubble blocking off the tunnel.

‘The smugglers’ last line of defence,’ said Alistair. ‘Norman must have known where the trigger was, so he could avoid it. He’s had years to study up on all the tunnels’ secrets.’ He glared into the darkness ahead. ‘So now, all that’s left is everything forward and trust in the Lord.’

Diana hefted her heavy candlestick. ‘Sounds like a plan to me. But what if there are more traps?’

‘What are the odds?’ said Alistair.

They shared a grin, and moved quickly on.

And then, quite suddenly, they ran out of tunnel. They stopped to study the dead end before them. Just a solid earth wall, as though the smugglers had simply got tired of digging. They looked around them. There was no way out and no sign of Norman anywhere.

‘He keeps doing this …’ said Diana.

‘Always one step ahead of us,’ said Alistair. ‘Because he knows the territory.’

They examined the earth walls carefully, holding their candles in close, but no matter where they looked, the tightly packed earth showed no trace of a hidden door.

‘There’s no way Norman could have circled around and got past us,’ said Alistair. ‘There has to be an exit onto the moor here somewhere.’

‘Would this be a good time to ask for help from on high?’ said Diana.

Alistair smiled suddenly. ‘I think you might have something there.’

‘I do?’

Alistair looked up at the ceiling, held his candlestick high, and then ran the fingertips of his free hand across the rough earth until they detected the outlines of a trapdoor. He forced his hand into the earth, and it yielded just enough for him to dig around in the revealed square until he was able to close his hand around a concealed iron ring. He pulled hard, and the trapdoor swung down. Streams of loose earth dropped into the tunnel, and Alistair had to jump back out of the way. A dim light dropped into the tunnel from above, pushing back the dark. Alistair set down his candlestick on the earth floor, so he could reach up with both hands and grab the edges of the opening.

‘Give me a hand, Diana.’

She cupped her hands together to make a stirrup, and Alistair set his foot in it. Diana frowned. ‘How did Norman manage this on his own?’

‘Because he had to,’ said Alistair.

Diana boosted him on his way, and he hauled himself up through the opening. He leaned back in and reached a hand down to her.

‘What about the candles?’ said Diana.

‘Leave them,’ said Alistair. ‘We won’t need them on the moor.’

Diana blew out her candle, threw the stick aside, and put up a hand. Alistair grabbed hold of it, and hauled her up onto the moor.

The light of dawn was just breaking, in shades of grey and silver. Blood-tinged clouds crowded the sky, and the sun was a dull crimson disc. A quiet wind ruffled the heather and made the long grasses bow. Alistair and Diana turned around, and could just make out the Pale Rider hotel, a long way off in the distance. They looked the other way and there was the town, even further off. Just a jumble of dark shapes on the horizon. There was no sign of Norman anywhere, on the whole wide moor.

‘He has to be here somewhere …’ said Diana.

‘There’s nowhere else he can be,’ said Alistair. ‘Odds are, he’s lying among the heather, hoping not to be noticed. Either because he thinks he can out-wait us …’

‘Or because he’s planning to ambush us,’ said Diana.

Alistair nodded. ‘That does sound like our Norman.’

‘I suppose it’s too much to hope Flying Justice would just suddenly appear and finish him off?’ said Diana. ‘For the undoubted sinner that he is.’

‘Unfortunately,’ said Alistair, ‘that is very definitely just a legend. No, we’re going to have to do this ourselves. Let’s head toward town.’

‘While keeping our eyes wide open,’ said Diana.

‘I think we should listen carefully, as well,’ said Alistair, ‘given that Norman has shown a real aptitude for being terminally furtive.’

They moved steadily out across the moor. The soft wind blew around them, pushing the tops of the heather this way and that. But there was no sign of any storm, and not a drop of rain. It was all very peaceful. The only sounds on the early morning air were a few outbreaks of birdsong, celebrating the arrival of the dawn.

‘On any other occasion,’ said Diana, ‘this would have been a lovely setting. Perfect for our proposed romantic stroll.’

‘And it might be again,’ said Alistair. ‘Just not right now. Don’t let yourself get distracted. We still have a killer to deal with.’

‘Trust me, I hadn’t forgotten,’ Diana said dryly. ‘We should have brought the candlesticks with us. A blunt instrument could come in really handy, right now. But we can’t search the whole moor for Norman. It looks like it goes on forever.’

‘He can’t stay hidden for long,’ said Alistair. ‘He has to get to town and organise some kind of escape, before the hotel phones start working.’

Diana frowned then glared around her. ‘He must be lying flat and holding his breath, hoping we’ll walk right past him so he can jump us from behind.’

Alistair looked out across the great open expanse of the moor.

‘At least we shouldn’t have any trouble seeing him coming.’

‘And then?’ said Diana.

‘Put your faith in me,’ said Alistair. ‘And the strong right arm of the Lord.’

‘Always, Bish,’ said Diana.

They pressed on. There was still no sign of Norman anywhere. Alistair stopped abruptly, and Diana stopped with him.

‘Tell me you’ve just had a really good idea,’ she said shortly. ‘Because if I’d known I was going to do this much walking, I wouldn’t have worn these heels.’

‘We have to provoke Norman into breaking cover,’ Alistair said quietly.

‘OK …’ said Diana. ‘How do we do that?’

‘I act as bait,’ said Alistair. ‘I’ll move openly across the moor, on my own, heading straight for the town as though I’ve allowed my impatience to get the better of me. You’ll follow, but from a distance, keeping low and out of sight as much as you can. When Norman finally rises up to attack me, you shout a warning.’

‘What could possibly go wrong, with a plan as detailed as that?’ said Diana.

‘If I had the time, I’d write you a list,’ said Alistair.

They shared a smile, and then Alistair set off across the moor, looking straight ahead but straining his ears for any sound of Norman among the heather. His back muscles ached in anticipation of an attack he probably wouldn’t know anything about anyway, until it was far too late. The moor stretched away in all directions for as far as he could see, showing its most open and innocent face. The ground became increasingly uneven, and Alistair had to take his eyes off his surroundings, more and more, so he could keep a close watch on his footing.

Norman burst up out of the heather right next to him, his knife held high. He made no sound and there was nothing human in his face, just the need to kill, like any cornered animal. Diana screamed a warning, and rushed forward. Norman threw himself at Alistair, the knife slamming down. Alistair grabbed Norman’s arm with both hands as it descended, took a firm hold, and twisted the wrist savagely. Norman cried out but wouldn’t drop the knife. Alistair piled on the pressure, forcing the man’s fingers open until he had no choice but to release the knife. Alistair drove Norman down onto his knees and then twisted the arm up behind his back. Norman heaved and struggled but couldn’t break free. Alistair held him bent right over, facing the ground, and waited for Diana to reach him. She stumbled to a halt just short of him, gasping for air, and he smiled back at her, not even breathing hard. Diana scowled at him disgustedly.

‘You were never in any real danger, were you?’

Alistair grinned cheerfully. ‘Learning how to disarm an attacker with a knife was one of the first things I was taught when I took over as Bishop of All Souls Harrow. Street gangs are no respecters of the dog collar.’

‘Well,’ said Diana, ‘now we’ve got Norman, what do we do with the vicious little bastard?’

‘Frog-march him all the way back across the moor to the hotel,’ said Alistair. ‘Where we will tie him up very securely, and then watch patiently over him until the police can come and take him off our hands.’

Diana looked back across the moor to the distant hotel. ‘Do you really think we can wrestle him all the way there? Because you just know he isn’t going to go quietly.’

‘Do you have another idea?’ Alistair said politely. ‘Because it’s not like we can call a cab.’

Diana looked thoughtfully at Norman. ‘We could just bury him in the ground until nothing’s left sticking out but his head, and come back for him later.’

‘An intriguing idea,’ said Alistair, ‘with only a few minor drawbacks. First, the ground beneath my feet feels solid as stone, and second, I didn’t think to bring my shovel with me.’

‘I just come up with the ideas,’ Diana said airily. ‘It’s up to you to make them work.’

‘Maybe next time,’ said Alistair.

Norman’s voice rose suddenly, and the sheer desperation in it made Alistair and Diana break off to look at him.

‘We have to get off the moor!’

‘Keep the noise down, Norman,’ said Alistair. ‘Some of us are trying to think.’

‘It’s either that, or we bury you headfirst in the ground,’ said Diana.

Norman fought to break free, but Alistair just tightened his grip and held him firmly in place. Norman subsided, shuddering.

‘You don’t understand!’

‘What don’t we understand?’ said Diana.

‘You have to listen to me!’ said Norman. ‘We’re not alone out here!’

Alistair looked quickly around him, peering out across the open moor. Diana did her best to look in all directions at once. The moor lay solid and firm under the early morning sky. Open and empty, and proud of it.

‘I’m pretty sure there’s no one else here,’ Diana said finally.

‘Listen!’ said Norman.

Alistair sighed patiently, and listened hard. Diana did her best to join in.

‘All I’m hearing is the wind, and some rather pleasant birdsong,’ Alistair said finally.

‘Same here,’ said Diana. ‘What are we supposed to be listening for?’

‘He’s out on the moor,’ said Norman. ‘He’s come for me. Because I used his legend for my own purposes.’

‘OK …’ said Alistair. ‘I genuinely have no idea what we’re talking about.’

‘It’s the Pale Rider!’ said Norman. ‘He’s here!’

Alistair and Diana looked at each other.

‘That … was not what I was expecting to hear,’ said Alistair.

‘Right,’ said Diana, ‘it’s official. Norman has lost it completely. Unless he’s just trying to distract us, so he can bolt for the horizon.’

Alistair looked thoughtfully at Norman. ‘The Pale Rider is just an old legend that no one believes in any more.’

Norman shook his head, and when he spoke, he sounded beaten down, broken, and despairing. He wasn’t even trying to get away any more.

‘That’s what I thought. I honestly believed I could just use him as a bogeyman, and there would never be any price to pay. But after Alice and I had agreed on our plan, before you and your people turned up at the hotel … I started hearing hoofbeats out on the moor, late at night. Heavy and distinct against the quiet. I’d lie awake in my bed in the early hours, listening to something big and heavy making its way across the moor, and heading for the hotel. Getting closer every night … By planning to make him real to you, I spent so long concentrating on his legend that I woke him up.

‘I tried to tell Alice what I’d heard, but she didn’t believe me. She never heard anything. She tried to tell me it was just my guilty conscience – like I’d ever been bothered by one of those. But I pretended to believe her, because the plan was all we had to keep us from going under. We had to go through with it.

‘So we waited for you and your party to arrive, and then put our scheme into action. We established the atmosphere, and played our spooky tricks, and made you all believe. We took the Pale Rider’s name in vain, and for a while, I thought we’d got away with it. But ever since you drove me out of the hotel and across the moor, I’ve been hearing the hoofbeats again. Circling round and round, closing slowly in on me. I can never see him, but I can feel his presence. The Pale Rider is coming for me … because I don’t think he wanted to be awakened.’

Alistair looked to Diana. ‘I suppose it’s never too early to set the grounds for an insanity plea.’

Diana glowered at Norman. ‘Do you believe in Flying Justice as well?’

‘Of course not,’ said Norman. ‘I made most of that stuff up, from a legend that was so obscure most of the people around here had forgotten all about it. But the Pale Rider … Back in the old days, there were any number of sightings by local people, on nights when the smugglers swore none of them were about their business on the moor. Perhaps … if enough people believe in a thing, it can become real.’

Alistair looked slowly around him, taking in the whole moor, straining his eyes for any hint of a movement.

‘I can’t see anything.’

‘Because there’s nothing to see!’ said Diana. ‘This is just more of his mind games, Bish. There’s no one else out here. If we were any more alone, we wouldn’t be here.’

Norman sighed heavily, as though nothing mattered any more. ‘Of course you can’t see or hear him. He hasn’t come for you.’

‘Well,’ said Alistair, ‘that was an interesting little chat, but I think we need to start moving. It’s a long way back to the hotel. I don’t want to hurt you any more, Norman, so if you’ll give me your word you won’t try to escape, I’ll let you out of the arm lock.’

‘You have my word,’ said Norman.

Alistair let go of his arm. Norman straightened up, stretched his back, and massaged his aching arm, and then sprinted across the moor toward town.

Alistair and Diana raced after him, plunging headlong through the knee-high heather.

‘Diana, you knew that was going to happen,’ said Alistair. ‘Why did you let me do it?’

‘Because you wouldn’t have believed he’d actually make a run for it, until you saw it for yourself,’ said Diana.

They pounded after Norman as he fled before them, his eyes fixed on the sanctuary of the town in the distance.

‘He has to slow down soon,’ said Alistair. ‘No one his size is built for that much speed.’

‘You sure about that?’ said Diana, already more than a little out of breath. ‘Because he seems really motivated.’

‘So am I,’ said Alistair.

And then Norman stopped suddenly and fell forward, disappearing from view into the heather. He screamed once, a horrible despairing sound, and then it cut off abruptly. Alistair and Diana forced a little more speed out of their legs.

They found Norman lying dead in the midst of a patch of crushed-down heather. His head had been smashed open, and there was blood all around him. His eyes were wide open, almost bulging from his face.

‘What the hell happened to him?’ said Diana.

‘I don’t know,’ said Alistair.

He knelt down beside the body, but didn’t bother checking for any signs of life. The extent of the head wound made that unnecessary.

‘It looks like he fell and hit his head,’ Alistair said finally. ‘On something really hard, like a large rock.’

‘I don’t see a rock anywhere,’ said Diana.

‘Neither do I,’ said Alistair. ‘But what else could it have been?’

‘Alistair,’ said Diana, ‘look at the heather all around the body. Does that look like hoofmarks, to you?’

Alistair looked. ‘I suppose they could be,’ he said carefully. ‘But I haven’t seen anything on the moor that could have made them. Have you?’

‘No,’ said Diana.

Alistair straightened up, and they moved quickly to stand together. They took their time looking around them, and the moor stared calmly back, daring them to ask questions. Diana held Alistair’s hand tightly.

‘If enough people believe in a thing, Bish, and I mean really believe …’

‘Then maybe Norman spent so long working on his plan that he ended up believing in something worse than him,’ said Alistair. ‘And it came to get him. But it was just his imagination.’

‘So you think he smashed his own head in?’ said Diana.

‘There has to be a rock here somewhere,’ said Alistair.

‘You want me to help you look for it?’ said Diana.

‘Not right now,’ said Alistair. ‘We’ll leave the body here. Let the police take a look, when they get here.’

‘What are we going to tell the others?’ said Diana.

‘That Norman fell while trying to escape and broke his head open,’ said Alistair. ‘That’s all they need to know.’

‘But is that what you believe happened?’ said Diana.

‘I’ll believe it, if you will,’ said Alistair.

‘I think that would probably help both of us sleep better,’ said Diana.

‘Let’s get back to the hotel,’ said Alistair. ‘The others will be getting worried about us.’

They set off across the moor, not glancing back once. They kept their eyes fixed on the far away hotel, but listened as hard as they could, for no particular reason. The wide, open moor was almost eerily calm and quiet, the only sound the undisturbed songs of the early rising birds.

‘You know,’ said Alistair, ‘just once, I would like to bring the murderer in alive.’

‘You do your best,’ said Diana.

EIGHT

Something Old, Something New

After the police had been called in. After they had listened to everyone’s stories, and asked all the right questions, and been suitably baffled by the strange manner of the killer’s death. And after they’d asked Alistair and Diana for their autographs and, after a little prompting, for Edward and Charlotte’s as well. And after they arranged for the three dead bodies to be taken away … Then, finally, they left. And Alistair and Diana could concentrate on getting married. Because that was what mattered most to them, and because after everything they’d been through, the others needed to see love triumph in the face of all opposition.

It was a lovely morning, with a bright sun in the sky and not a cloud to be seen. A few gulls soared over the cliff face to circle the hotel, but they had enough sense to stay silent. The sea was still pounding against the rocks below, but in the light of day, it sounded like a distant round of applause, as though the whole world wanted everyone to know it approved of the forthcoming marriage.

Alistair emerged from the Pale Rider hotel wearing a formal grey morning suit, complete with top hat and gloves. He’d had to hire the outfit for the occasion, but it felt like money well spent. He’d put a lot of thought into deciding how he wanted to look, and finally decided that a special occasion demanded a special outfit. He wanted to appear worthy of his bride.

And besides, it was the same outfit his father had worn when he married Alistair’s mother. In one of the few photos he had of them.

He smiled at Diana as she came out to join him. She was wearing a long white dress, not because she still felt qualified to do so, but because she had a strong sense of tradition. And because she knew it would please Alistair.

‘I know it’s not an actual wedding gown,’ she said. ‘But I wanted to look like I was making an effort.’

They stood and stared at each other for a long moment, putting off the long-awaited marriage for just a little while longer, so they could savour it.

‘You look amazing,’ said Alistair.

‘You too, Bish,’ said Diana.

‘Even if we do look like we should be standing on top of a wedding cake,’ said Alistair.

‘There’s a nice traditional three-layer cake waiting for us in the bar,’ said Diana. ‘The moment we were off the phone from calling in the police, Eliza was right there ordering the best wedding cake the shop in town could provide. They rushed it here, in the back of a taxi.’

‘That was kind of her,’ said Alistair.

‘You’d better like it,’ said Diana. ‘Because Eliza left us the bill.’

Alistair laughed. ‘I’m sure it will be fine.’

Diana shrugged easily. ‘We can afford a cake or two. Just think of all the money we’ll make selling photos of ourselves looking like this. We are going to be the style sensation of the season.’

‘Thank God one of us is practical,’ said Alistair.

Edward and Charlotte chose that moment to make their appearance. They were both dressed to the height of 1920s fashion, and Alistair had to bite his lower lip to keep from asking if they were the same costumes they’d worn in The Boyfriend. Both of them looked marvellously dignified, and effortlessly elegant. They dazzled, like the theatre aristocracy they were, and Alistair couldn’t find it in him to begrudge them their moment in the spotlight.

‘Looking good, in-laws,’ he said.

‘The price for our wedding photos just went up,’ said Diana.

‘Our wedding present to you,’ Edward said easily.

‘And there’s a wok hanging around somewhere, if you want it,’ said Charlotte.

‘A wok can always come in handy …’ said Diana, ‘if only for seeing off burglars.’

Eliza bustled out of the hotel, wearing the pink and frothy bridesmaid’s outfit Diana had brought with her, and beaming all over her face.

‘I feel so pretty!’ she said happily.

‘That’s the idea,’ said Diana.

‘But not as pretty as you, of course,’ said Eliza.

‘That’s the idea,’ said Diana.

Last to emerge from the hotel was Crispin, wearing his usual tweeds because he never wore anything else. Like many an academic at Cambridge, Crispin only remembered to change his clothes when the seasons shifted. Wearing the same outfit all the time meant he never had to waste any time wondering what he should wear. He just took the next set off the hanger. He seemed to recognise from everyone’s expressions that they had expected rather more from a Canon about to perform a wedding ceremony.

‘I am a Cambridge scholar,’ he said reprovingly. ‘We don’t do the style thing. You’re lucky this doesn’t come complete with a long gown and a mortar board.’

Alistair nodded solemnly. ‘Diana and I thank you for your restraint.’

‘If everyone’s quite ready?’ said Diana, just a bit threateningly.

Alistair offered her his arm, she hugged it tightly to her side, and the two of them led the way in happy procession along the front of the hotel to the chapel. Crispin and Eliza followed behind the happy couple, chatting companionably, and Edward and Charlotte brought up the rear while Charlotte talked loudly of all the great society weddings they’d attended in the past. Edward did a lot of nodding. Everyone was smiling and laughing and basking in the morning sunlight, happy to put the bad memories of the night behind them.

The chapel looked far less grim and intimidating in the light of a new day, and actually seemed to be making an effort to appear welcoming. The stained-glass windows took on rich new colours in the sunlight, even if the shapes still didn’t make any sense. Diana gave Alistair’s arm an extra squeeze as they approached the chapel’s front door, and lowered her voice.

‘Tell me you still have the key.’

‘Would I forget something like that?’ said Alistair.

‘Why not?’ said Diana. ‘I did, until just this minute.’

‘I made a long list of all the things I couldn’t afford to forget,’ Alistair said calmly. ‘And the key to the chapel door was right there at the top of it.’

‘Thank God one of us is organised,’ said Diana.

Once they were inside, Crispin moved quickly to take up his position behind the stone altar. As he took on his official role as master of ceremony, a new dignity and sense of occasion seemed to fall across him. Alistair couldn’t help noticing that the Canon was standing directly under the dagger Flying Justice, in its stone sheath on the wall, but decided not to point that out. He didn’t want Crispin getting distracted. And Alistair couldn’t help but feel the presence of the old legend added a suitable sense of drama to the occasion.

He stood before the altar and waited patiently while Diana came down the aisle on her father’s arm. Edward looked tall and handsome and very proud, and not at all acting, and Charlotte brought up the rear, smiling approvingly. Diana moved in beside Alistair, and they shared a quick smile. They stood facing the Canon, across the ancient stone altar. Alistair wondered if he should take his top hat off, now he was inside the chapel, but decided that his marriage trumped a few manners. He compromised by taking off his grey gloves and stuffing them in his pockets. Diana fussed with her dress, just to be doing something with her hands.

Eliza stood a little to one side, in her official capacity as both bridesmaid and best man. Edward had offered to take on the latter role, but Alistair and Diana felt he really couldn’t be that as well as father of the bride. Eliza quickly volunteered to cover both functions, because she felt she owed them something, and because Diana browbeat her into doing it.

Edward and Charlotte arranged themselves theatrically on the front pew and beamed happily on everyone. They had discussed using the occasion to reaffirm their old wedding vows, but Diana hadn’t wasted any time in shooting that one down. She just knew they’d make a major production out of it, and she had no intention of being overshadowed on her own wedding day. So, Edward and Charlotte concentrated on their roles as official photographers, using their phones to cover every aspect of the wedding.

The simple ceremony went well and quickly, and everyone remembered their lines without having to be prompted. Alistair had also remembered to give Eliza the wedding ring before they entered the chapel, because that was the last item on his list of things that needed doing. Eliza presented the ring at just the right moment, along with just the right kind of reassuring smile, and Alistair got the ring on the right finger first time. There was a slight frisson, when Crispin asked whether anyone present knew of any just cause or impediment as to why the marriage should not take place, but the chapel remained respectfully silent, and Crispin moved quickly on. Alistair could almost feel the many generations of worshippers crammed into the pews, looking on approvingly.

‘You may kiss the bride,’ Crispin said finally.

And everyone cheered and applauded Alistair and Diana, who were far too busy to notice.

Later, after they’d all got changed and gathered in the bar, and many speeches had been made, and everyone had sampled the wedding cake and declared it good, and many celebratory toasts had been drunk, they all left the hotel and went outside. Because even in the reassuring light of day, no one wanted to spend one moment longer in the Pale Rider hotel than they absolutely had to.

They stood together outside the front door and chattered happily over what they were going to do next. Diana hung on to Alistair’s arm with both hands, as though she never meant to let go of it. Alistair wondered if he should tell her she was in danger of cutting off the circulation, but decided he didn’t really mind.

No one had brought any confetti to throw, because they’d expected the Makepeaces to still be around to provide some, but Eliza had found a packet of dried rice in the kitchen and handed it around as they left the hotel. Alistair and Diana smiled determinedly as the heavy grains bounced off their heads and shoulders.

After a while, Alistair yawned widely.

‘You can’t be bored of her already,’ said Eliza.

‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night,’ protested Alistair. ‘I had to go straight from the moor to the hotel, wait for the police to arrive, then take them out onto the moor to show them where the body was, and then come back here, answer all their questions and explain everything, which took a while, and then prepare for the wedding.’

‘I helped,’ said Diana.

Alistair smiled at her. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’

‘And don’t you forget that,’ said Diana.

‘I did offer to postpone the wedding till this evening,’ said Crispin.

Diana shook her head firmly. ‘We’d waited long enough.’

‘And why give this place another chance to mess things up?’ said Alistair.

‘You can’t blame the hotel for everything that happened,’ said Eliza.

Diana sniffed loudly. ‘Watch me.’

Eliza grinned teasingly. ‘If you want, we could always look after ourselves for a while, and the two of you could nip off to your room …’

Diana shuddered dramatically. ‘I’d rather do it in a graveyard.’

Eliza’s smile widened. ‘Didn’t you once …’

‘Not another word,’ said Diana. ‘Or someone will be force-fed some rice.’

‘The hotel has acquired an atmosphere all of its own,’ said Crispin. ‘I mean, the chapel could brood for the Olympics, but the hotel could take gold and silver when it comes to being in a bad mood.’

Eliza nodded quickly. ‘You couldn’t pay me to spend another night here. I know the bad guys are dead, and all the spooky stuff has been proven fake, but even so …’

‘People still died,’ said Alistair.

‘Yes,’ said Eliza. ‘They did. Does it make me a bad person, that I’m glad they’re all dead?’

‘Just a bit,’ said Diana. ‘But not enough to matter.’

‘We have decided to go straight to the honeymoon,’ said Alistair.

‘In an entirely different country,’ said Diana.

‘Then this is goodbye?’ said Eliza.

‘Just for now,’ said Diana. ‘I’m sure we’ll see each other again.’

‘Don’t leave it so long next time,’ said Eliza.

They hugged each other. Edward shook Alistair firmly by the hand, and Charlotte kissed him on both cheeks. They then took it in turn to hug Diana, who submitted with good grace.

‘Time for us to be going,’ said Diana.

‘We’ve booked somewhere very different for our honeymoon,’ said Alistair.

‘And where might that be?’ Charlotte said innocently.

Alistair smiled back at her, equally innocently. ‘It’s a secret.’

‘Somewhere completely out of reach of the media,’ said Diana. ‘Because once word gets out about everything that’s happened here, the tabloids are going to lose their collective minds. So we are going abroad. And I mean really abroad.’

‘Only just a little sooner than we’d intended,’ said Alistair.

‘Good idea,’ said Edward. ‘But where, exactly?’

‘Somewhere scenic,’ said Diana. ‘With lots of snow and winter activities. Extremely comfortable and very romantic, in a freezing-cold kind of way.’

‘Will I have to go skiing?’ said Alistair.

‘I doubt we’ll have the time,’ said Diana.

They shared a smile.

‘How are the tabloids going to find out what happened here?’ said Eliza. ‘Oh … of course, the police.’

‘Not if you get your story in first,’ said Diana. ‘Along with Mummy and Daddy, of course.’

‘Our wedding present to you,’ said Alistair. ‘Put your heads together and make up something really good. A widescreen spectacular, with all the supernatural bells and whistles you can hang off it.’

‘But make sure you shop your story around all the editors,’ said Diana. ‘Get the best price you can.’

‘And above all, keep the editors so interested in you that with any luck, they won’t notice Diana and me sneaking out of the country,’ said Alistair.

‘At the end of it all,’ Diana said smugly, ‘the public will have a new sensation to gossip over, and you three will walk away with enough money to put all your lives back on track.’

Eliza clapped her hands delightedly. ‘By the time we’ve finished putting our story together, you won’t even recognise it. We are talking real Stephen King stuff. We might even sell the film rights, like The Amityville Horror. Only even more unbelievable.’

‘And then what?’ said Alistair.

‘The three of us have been discussing all kinds of projects we could work on,’ said Eliza. ‘With Edward and Charlotte in front of the camera, and me behind it.’

‘We’ll end up with so many irons in the fire we’ll have to fight off potential backers with a really big stick,’ said Edward.

‘It’s going to feel so good, to be working steadily again!’ said Charlotte. ‘I can feel a major revival coming on!’

They walked off together, arguing companionably over who should get top billing. Diana nodded to Eliza.

‘You seem to be getting on well with my parents.’

‘Oh, they’re a couple of sweeties,’ said Eliza. ‘That kind of theatrical voice is so in, right now. Because nostalgia never goes out of fashion. We are going to be so busy!’

‘I’m glad,’ said Diana.

‘I know you are,’ said Eliza.

Eliza kissed Diana on the cheek, and then Alistair, and then bounced off to join Edward and Charlotte. They soon had their heads together, cheerfully plotting the future, while they waited for their taxi to come and get them.

‘Is it wrong of me,’ said Diana, ‘that I’m feeling just a bit jealous? My parents seem to be treating Eliza like the daughter I never was to them.’

‘Perhaps they can tell she needs it more,’ said Alistair. ‘What matters is, they came all this way to attend our wedding, and didn’t cut and run the moment the weird stuff started. I’m actually proud of the way they stood up to Norman.’

Diana smiled. ‘They were good, weren’t they?’

‘They were very brave, when it mattered,’ said Alistair. ‘I must track down some of their old movies.’

‘No need to go overboard, darling,’ said Diana. ‘You haven’t watched all of mine yet.’

Crispin came over to join them.

‘Nice ceremony,’ said Alistair.

‘I thought so,’ said Crispin. ‘Though the atmosphere in the chapel did most of the heavy lifting.’

‘You did an excellent job,’ said Diana. ‘You should be very proud. You’ll be in all the photographs.’

‘No one’s going to be looking at me,’ said Crispin. ‘All brides are beautiful, all bridegrooms are dashing, but the presiding clergy are just part of the furniture. Which is as it should be. Now, a police mechanic very kindly got my Rolls going again, so if you’ll just fetch your luggage, I’ll drive you into town.’

‘Have you put any thought into what kind of story you’re going to sell to the media?’ said Diana.

‘Something suitably spiritual, as well as sensational, I trust,’ said Alistair.

Crispin shook his head firmly. ‘I shall not be selling my story to anyone. I just want to get back to Cambridge, haul up the academic drawbridge, and repel all invaders with harsh words and boiling oil. I need to set about rebuilding my refound faith, and I don’t want any interruptions. You just concentrate on having a wonderful honeymoon. Are you really not going to give me even a hint, as to where you’re going?’

Alistair smiled. ‘The wilds of nowhere.’

Diana grinned. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’

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