Banquet for the Damned

'And then we heard her voice. From the back seat. What could we think? Beth was alive. But there had been no pulse. No breath. I was certain.

'I turned and saw that her eyes were open. Bright eyes. Bright with life. Her mouth opened and she tried to speak. But it was so noisy with Harry driving like that, like a madman to get her to the hospital, I didn't catch what she said. I held her hand and spoke to her, but I don't think she could hear me either. It was like she was unaware of where she was.

'When she found her voice, she began to jabber. A jumble of words mostly, but in the same voice from the tapes Eliot had played at Cambridge. I didn't understand any of it. Once or twice she repeated some Latin. A chant, taught to her by Eliot, I thought. I couldn't be sure. But she was alive. That was the main thing.'

Arthur passes two pieces of paper to Dante. He has scribbled the translations beneath each inscription. 'Some of it was sent to us today. As a threat, I think.'

'What about Beth?' Dante asks, filling another glass with Jack Daniel's. 'What happened?'

Arthur looks at Harry, who remains quiet. The Proctor continues to sip his whisky and stare into space. Unperturbed, Arthur then offers a third note to Dante. On this one he has written the address of Eliot's cottage in Knoxville. 'We never found out,' Arthur says, with his hand outstretched, the note held between two fingers. 'As soon as we parked at the hospital and got her standing, she ran.'

'Ran?'

'Away from us. Back out of town. Laughing all the way.' Arthur exhales. He rubs his face, the shape of his body sunken. 'She was too quick for us. We spent the rest of the night trawling the lanes for her, all the way back to Eliot's, but we didn't find her, and Eliot had gone from the lawn. We did not go inside. We couldn't.'

'And this guy, Ben. Where did he go?'

The men exchange glances. 'He took his own life within days. He never spoke of what happened to anyone. But he left a note. And in it, he explained 'that he had to get it out of himself'. Nothing more. Just that.'

'You never reported it,' Dante says, his face white with shock.

Both of his guests look at the floor.

'So what do we do now?'

Arthur shakes his round head, clueless. Harry looks Dante straight in the eye. 'Nothing.'

'Hang on.'

Harry raises his hands. 'Listen to me. Eliot's contract has been cancelled. It took a little longer than we supposed it would, but he's finished here. He and Beth will have to leave. Their influence here —'

Dante writhes in his chair. 'What's wrong with you? Eliot doesn't give a shit about the job. The job doesn't matter anymore. Forget that. It's gone way beyond that. And Beth isn't Beth. Did you learn nothing from what Arthur's just said? I can't believe you've sat on your hands for so long waiting for all this to just go away of its own free will.'

'Don't be melodramatic, Dante. Before we take any firm action, we need to know more.'

'About what? Eliot has lost the plot. He couldn't do anything if he tried. Don't you see? Beth is running things. Beth and the other thing we've all seen.'

'Think we've seen. What we've actually seen and what we think we've seen are two entirely different matters.'

Dante stands up, turns around and removes his shirt. 'They're fading, but these marks are for real.'

'Good God,' Arthur says.

Harry swallows, unable to break his stare from Dante's back. 'She's a fanatic now. We told you. They have such strength. Lunatics, you know,' he says, but his lips hardly move.

'And you're a lunatic for wasting time, mate. We have to get out there and get Tom. He's in serious trouble. They've got him out there. This goes way beyond Eliot now. Tonight, we make a move. We go out there.'

'Out of the question,' Harry says, shaking his head.

Arthur smiles weakly in an attempt to calm him down. 'It's late, Dante.'

'I don't care.'

Shuffling forward on the couch, Arthur attempts to touch Dante, who paces up and down, pulling his shirt back on. His face is set. 'Please, Dante. Listen to me,' Arthur implores. 'I'm willing to help. With your friend. I'll come with you. We'll confront them together. And it won't be the first time I've taken someone from Eliot by force. But not tonight. We have the new postgraduate body to meet tomorrow, and my speech still needs work.' His voice starts to drift along with his attention. 'With everything else, I've fallen behind with so many things.'

Dante stops moving. He has to keep this one sweet. He is willing to help. 'All right, Arthur. I appreciate what you've told me. I mean that. I've been going out of my mind trying to cope with all this on my own. It's good to know I have an ally.' He begins to pace again. 'I've got to get out there. Tom's coming back with me. No bother there.' But his attempts at boosting his own morale fail. How far gone is Tom? He's been out there for two days now while he searched, and sat around, and listened to this pair. He should get the police now. Go to them with the incredible story and take them out to the cottage. Don't take no for an answer. Tell them it is a kidnap or something. If it blows the town wide open — what Eliot has been doing, what he's done to Beth — then so be it. These two will have to look out for themselves. If they'd done more in the beginning everything would be all right now. Arthur is a good sort, but he can't trust old long-jaw. He'll sell them out to save his name. Refuse to co-operate. And he has too much influence over Arthur. And what can Arthur do anyway? He is old and going to pieces. He is scared. They are all scared, but someone has to go and get Tom. If he goes now, out to the cottage, tonight, with or without the police, Tom can be saved. He'll get Tom and then they'll split. Leave right away. Their stuff is packed.

But what about the other thing? His fragile plans fall apart when he thinks of the sounds and the movements in the silence and the dark of St Mary's Court. What is it? What makes it come? Will it be there, waiting?

Harry collects his jacket from the arm of the chair. He looks ill. 'Thank you for the drink, Dante. But I must get off now. My wife is expecting me.'

'Sure, just take off. Let's waste another night.'

'I promise to be in touch. Tomorrow. But until then, I'd advise you to do nothing rash. It would be a mistake going to the police. What could you say? They'd laugh at you. When it's light, tomorrow, after our engagement with the postgrads, I suggest we all go out there and confront Beth. Get your friend. It'll be light. Things are different during the day. Let the whisky and emotion wear off first.'

Arthur looks at Harry with surprise and then admiration. Dante scowls. But the thought of going out to the cottage, alone and at night, fills him with dread. 'You'll call here, tomorrow?' he says, his voice heavy with disappointment.

Harry offers his hand. 'I promise. We're all involved, Dante. I know your friend is there, but he's young. He's strong. It's unlikely he'd do anything… Let himself… There is a lot at stake for all of us.'

'He is right, Dante,' Arthur says. He puts his hand on Dante's shoulder. 'Let's think of the best for all of us, eh? We'll all go tomorrow.'

Dante can't speak. This is the kind of thing his parents said when they worked out a compromise. Harry is out the door without another word.

'Tomorrow, then,' Arthur says, looking pleased with himself after his confession, as if he can think of nothing else now. On the doorstep, he pulls his collar up against the cold. He nods at Dante and then walks, wearily, away from the flat where Ben Carter once lived.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

'Well, it's done. I feel better for it,' Arthur says. He buttons his coat right up to his chin and folds the lapels over to further protect his fleshy neck. Behind him, Dante closes the front door of that flat, Ben Carter's flat. There was no need to have told him that. He is right on that account; the lad has enough to deal with.