Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
C rossing the busy market as a cat was far different to walking around as a human – for one thing I could move faster by weaving in and out of people’s legs. But I was also more aware of rats on the hunt for scraps of discarded food, and I had to tamp down some deep feline instinct to chase them.
There were other issues, too. I was at the mercy of people’s kindness – or lack of it. I had to skitter away three times to avoid being kicked by irritated passers-by who obviously thought that their right to walk these paths was greater than mine. They weren’t as annoying as the supposedly friendly hands that stretched towards me, usually from children who wanted to grab my fur. Honestly, if I’d been a full-time cat I’d have done everything I could to stay away from places like the market, even if there was a good chance of nabbing some food.
Thane had told me that Nick’s parents were killed in the far northern corner just beyond the last few stalls; he only knew that much because Nick had wanted to visit the area and asked him for directions. I headed straight there, hoping my plan would work though there was no guarantee that there would be anything to find; in fact, there was every chance that the souls of Nick’s mum and dad had already moved on despite their untimely deaths.
I edged around a muddy puddle and wiggled underneath a bookseller’s stall near the intersection I’d been looking for. It wasn’t as busy as the rest of Henderson Market; this would be easier with fewer people around.
I scanned around for a vantage point and spotted a disused water fountain with a flat section on top. However, with the characteristics of She Who Loves Sunbeams rather than He Who Roams or the skinny rooftop cat, it was harder than I’d expected to leap onto it. I felt my bones creak and it was an effort to haul myself up. No wonder my old girl preferred to lie around in the sunshine; leaping around wasn’t for everyone.
Once I’d recovered, I sat back on my haunches and licked a paw. In my experience it was easier to spot spirits when they didn’t know you were looking for them so I focused on grooming and used my peripheral vision for the telltale shadowy flickers of the recently departed.
Several minutes passed but I remained patient. I ignored the dribble of rain that started to fall and the pigeon who was looking annoyed, as if I’d nabbed his favourite spot. Thankfully my patience was soon rewarded, probably because of the darkening sky: ghostly spirits were far easier to see when the light was dim, especially with cat eyes.
Perhaps it was a testament to their strong relationship, or perhaps Nick’s mum and dad hadn’t yet realised they were dead, but they had stayed together. Their souls were flitting through the streets less than thirty metres away from me. I continued to groom the same spot on my paw as I watched them. They weren’t the only spirits haunting this place: two others looked as if they’d been caught in the same accident – if it had been an accident.
Although they were more shadows than people, their lupine heritage was obvious. Nick’s dad looked very much like his son, with the same long nose and curling hair. He reached the intersection and prepared to cross the street, his hand clasped with a woman whom I took to be Nick’s mum.
The other two spirits didn’t appear to know each other or Nick’s parents. One approached from the right and one from the left; both, as far as I could tell, were witches. The one on the right had a battered satchel over his shoulder, but neither of them were holding weapons or displaying any interest in the werewolf couple.
Nick’s dad bent his head and his lips moved as he spoke to his wife. She glanced up and for a moment I thought she was looking directly at me, then I realised she was staring at something that I couldn’t see.
I leaned forward as the four spirits paused and then converged on the same spot in the centre of the road across from the last line of market stalls. At the same time, a chubby arm waved in front of my face and I almost fell off the fountain top.
‘Kitty! Cute kitty!’
Bloody kids. I hissed loudly, hoping to scare him off because he was blocking my view. A woman snatched him away. ‘Frederick! Leave that mangy cat alone!’
I hissed indignantly this time: I was pleased the kid was being removed but I most definitely wasn’t mangy. I glared after them then returned my attention to the four spirits. I’d missed the action so I’d have to wait for them to repeat it.
It didn’t take long. Nick’s mum and dad approached the intersection and his dad said something to his mum who stared at the same blank spot. One witch came from the right, the other from the left and there was a momentary pause. Now, with my view uninterrupted, I watched the finale.
The left witch brushed past Nick’s parents and the right witch started to frown. A split second later they all froze, their expressions displaying a rictus of confusion and shock, then their shadows blurred away at the same time.
Hmm. Whatever had taken place had happened in the blink of a cat’s eye.
I waited and watched again. Nothing changed. I watched them for a third time and a fourth. Once I was certain that there was nothing new to be learned from where I was sitting, I jumped down from the fountain, ignored the jarring of my bones and headed towards the spot where the action had happened.
All four spirits were repeating what they’d done in the lead up to their deaths and they would probably continue to do so until they came to terms with the event and their lack of physical existence. Only then could they depart to whatever lay beyond.
There was nothing obvious to indicate why the four had died: they hadn’t been hit by anything, their bodies didn’t writhe or collapse, they didn’t choke, they simply ceased to be at the same time. The likeliest explanation was some sort of explosion but there was nothing in the middle of the street that could explode. I needed a closer look.
I reached the spot and stayed there despite the living, breathing cyclist who was bearing down on me. Determined to scare me out of his way, he rang his bell but I ignored him. With a curse, he wheeled around me. ‘Fucking moggy!’
Stupid cyclist. I sniffed and focused on the ground.
It was several weeks since Nick’s parents had died; if there’d been any odour to indicate an explosion, it had long since dissipated. There was a faint mark on the old cobbles but it might have been there for years. I was beginning to think that I could watch the ghosts re-live the moment of their deaths a thousand times and still be none the wiser.
I raised my head and my fur bristled as the spirits drew closer. This time, because I was so close, I could feel the chill emanating from them. One witch came from the left, one witch came from the right. Nick’s mum and dad walked towards me hand in hand. I held my breath, waiting for the moment when they vanished – but then there was a lull in the action.
Nick’s mother turned her head not to look at the same blank spot as before but to stare at me. Her ghostly figure wavered.
Her husband tugged on her hand as if trying to encourage her to relive the moment of her death once again but she resisted. Her lips formed words I couldn’t read and couldn’t hear: she was trying to tell me something but I didn’t know what it was.
The two witches had also stopped their grim charade and were watching Nick’s mum with frustration. Suddenly the witch to my right circled my feline body before aiming a kick at my haunches. I flinched, even though I knew his ghostly form couldn’t connect with my live one.
It was unusual for a spirit to be so aware of the physical world so I reckoned that was a good thing: it probably meant that he was on his way out of here. So too was Nick’s mum, even if her husband was some way behind her.
As she stamped the ground, her foot hit the cobbles with an eerie silence. She flounced over to a lamppost and punched it. I blinked: I hadn’t expected such anger. She raised both arms heavenward – and a second later she vanished, followed by the other three ghosts.
Then they were back, repeating their macabre re-enactment yet again.
I waited for several more rounds but whatever Nick’s mum had been trying to convey, I was obviously not going to witness it again. When I was certain nothing new was forthcoming, I stretched and twisted. I didn’t understand what I’d seen, but with Thane’s help maybe I could decipher it.
By the time I got back to the small flat above the pub, there were only twenty minutes left before Mallory returned. I changed back into human form and explained to Thane what I’d seen. His ginger eyebrows drew together. ‘Let’s have a look together, shall we?’
I gathered up She Who Loves Sunbeams and bade farewell to Bert. He blinked slowly and looked away, which was good enough for me. We left Mallory’s flat again and returned to the scene; although the four ghosts doubtless remained in situ, I could no longer see them. Not with human eyes.
‘They were right here?’ Thane asked, pointing to a spot on the cobbles.
‘Slightly to your right,’ I said. He side-stepped and I nodded. ‘Whatever happened took place right where you’re standing.’
He lowered himself to the ground until his nose was almost pressed against it. Several passersby who were leaving the market stared at him but we paid them no attention.
I doubted even his werewolf nose would scent anything so I walked over to the lamppost that Nick’s mum had punched. There was a tattered sheet of paper pinned to it that I’d not noticed from the ground when I was a cat. I squinted at it, expecting to see yet another advertisement for some winter solstice shindig, but it was nothing of the sort.
The lettering was faded and the ink had bled as a result of the recent weather but I could read enough of it; it was an appeal for witnesses to an incident that had killed four people, posted by an officer of the MET, the Magical Enforcement Team that was the closest equivalent to the police in Coldstream.
I smiled grimly. Captain Wilberforce Montgomery: finally we had the name of somebody useful to talk to. I bowed in the direction of the street. Thank you , I projected silently to Nick’s dead mother. We owe you one.