like Stoker’s Dracula on the Demeter?), but this information can be found nowhere in any written account of the case.”
He flicked through the text on the remaining pages. At the back of the book, a photocopied page had been stapled to the inside cover. He opened it and stared at the image. It was a child’s pencil drawing. The lines were ragged, uneven, and the shading didn’t stay inside the lines. The sketch matched the other one in his possession: it showed a man wearing a wide-brimmed black hat and a long black cape, holding a short, pointed stick. His face was white, with large black goggle-like eyeglasses perched above an oversized beak. It was a familiar image, of course – a medieval plague doctor. But the familiarity made it no less disturbing, especially as it had seemingly been sketched by a young child.
captain clikcety, said the words beneath the sketch, drawed by Jack Pollack aged 6
“Why the hell didn’t he ever tell me about this?” He closed the book again and held on to it, not wanting to put it down but afraid to touch the volume for too long in case something infected him. It was a crazy thought, but nevertheless it caught hold inside his mind, barbed and dangerous. This information was unclean, it was tainted. Exposure to it might cause him damage.
“What is it?” Rose placed a hand on his arm. “You look... shaken.”
“Whatever Harry was working on here, it has something to do with the case I was researching. The Northumberland Poltergeist. The Pollack twins. The ghost they called Captain Clickety. Even the Hummingbirds. These were all part of my own notes... Harry was keeping this stuff from me, deliberately it seems. For some reason, he was holding it back.”
“I see. Maybe he was planning to tell you, but didn’t get the chance?”
Marc licked his lips. “Or maybe there was something he didn’t want me to find out...” He sighed. “But you’re probably right. There’s no reason he would have kept this information from me. He was a great help – why would he do that and then keep something this important back? It doesn’t make sense.”
“None of this makes sense, son. I’m starting to believe that my brother had mental health problems – far bigger ones than I ever imagined. I mean, does any of this strike you as abnormal? I don’t mean to cast aspersions on the man’s interests, but all this... well, it’s slightly over the top, don’t you think?”
Marc turned to face Rose. The man’s face was pale in the gathering gloom. His eyes were moist, as if he were about to cry. Was he looking for denial or affirmation? “I suppose so, yes. It does come across as a bit obsessive.”
“Just wait till you see what’s in the room next door. That’s the kicker.” Rose turned and walked out of the room. He stood on the other side of the small landing and used another key to unlock the door opposite. “If you thought the library was weird, just wait until you get a load of this.” He pushed open the door, switched on the light, and went inside.
Standing in the doorway of the library, Marc once again began to have the intense feeling that somebody was standing behind him. He knew that it was impossible, that he was alone inside the room, but the sensation of someone standing there silently in the corner grew and grew, becoming something that he could not ignore. He thought that it might be Harry, either urging him on or warning him not to pursue this any further.
Then, softly at first, he heard a steady, repetitive clicking sound. The sound grew in volume, but remained at a level that ensured no one outside the room could have heard it. The clicking remained at an even tone, droning on and on. Then, like a Geiger counter picking up levels of radiation in the air, it began to wax and wane, creating a hideous song.
Air trapped in the radiator? Old water pipes under the floorboards, making a racket?
The clicking decreased in volume and by the time he was facing the part of the room where it was coming from, it had ceased. The corner was empty. There was nobody there, watching him. Yet he felt as if there was yet another figure hiding just out of sight, perhaps drawn into a fold of darkness.
Marc backed out of the room, taking the exercise book with him. When