Underbelly (82 page)

I’m on your side.

I know. My fury isn’t directed at you. Manning will apologise. He’s too savvy not to. He won’t mean it so I’d sooner he didn’t, but I guess I’ll have to be gracious and accept it. The other one won’t. Anyway, enough about them. You don’t mind if I read some pulp? I can read it to you if you like.

As long as it’s better than that last shit. I’m starting to think your father had the right idea.

It’s the same one. Not really. This one’s nowhere near as good.

Sheesh. It’s going to be a long night...

It wasn’t until after midnight that Grey got his first call from a peckish businessman who sounded totally inebriated. He couldn’t quite grasp that the menu was considerably smaller at this late hour and hung up before he rang back ten minutes later and Grey was able to take his order this time. Grey had made an elementary mistake and had not written down his order and he dashed into the kitchen, repeating the same words like a mantra to himself. Ham and pickle sandwich and chicken soup. After taking two steps in the kitchen he began to slide around and looking down he saw that the whole floor had been greased. He shook his head and said several expletives and he carefully walked across the room and got to work. He didn’t like to be long as he had to leave his phone unattended – for this reason on some occasions two men did the same job, though at present the hotel was looking to cut costs and there hadn’t been two men on this job since Grey had lived at the hotel, possibly because his retired predecessor was able to do the work of two men. For all that Manning (and doubtless others) went on about Grey being friends with the boss, the man who managed the hotel, the cutthroat Mr Willard, ran things his way with very little interference from any of the Overtons and Grey’s two brief dealings with him were enough for him to gather that he was not held in high regard.

Even though Grey knew that the floor was greased he still slipped and hit the floor as he carried the bowl of soup, thankfully before he had cooked it. He went down fast and hard and banged the back of his head and it took him a minute to get back to his feet. He wiped his shirt and covered the stain with an apron as he started again on the soup.

Fucking asses
, Grey muttered in his head furiously.

Plan your revenge.

It was a dangerous thing to do.

Those two could do with a good hiding, but it was just a prank. It’s not the end of the world. We’ve both been shot and I reckon you whined less over that!

I’m entitled to be grouchy.

Where will that get you?

Do I...sorry, I’m just fed up. I hit the back of my head when I landed. The soup went right over my fucking face too, as well as my shirt.

At least it was cold.

Ice cold.

It must have looked pretty funny.

The back of my head is absolutely killing me so the joke has passed me by. I don’t mind you chuckling, but I’m not friends with these guys, so their belly laugh at my expense...maybe we should plan revenge,
Grey said.

That’s the spirit.

Grey had better luck with his next attempt and made it across the floor safely by holding onto the trolley. He took the lift up with the food and grunted at the lift attendant’s joke about his pitted appearance. After quickly getting changed he sped back to the lift, jumping on the back of the trolley as it almost took off and he dashed back downstairs where he found the phone was ringing. He answered, out of breath, and apologised for the delay and wrote down the order this time. This customer was politer than the previous one and Grey, who had intended to mop the kitchen floor (while he had no desire to clean up their mess, he had to think of the early staff who could injure themselves), instead took off his socks and shoes before he made the sandwich so that he could walk across the floor a little more safely. This gentleman was undoubtedly foreign and when Grey wheeled the trolley inside he saw two priests who matched the descriptions of the men who had hunted Laura. They were both seated and Grey wanted to make a quick egress and he said, awkwardly, “Enjoy.”

“
Please wait for your tip,” the elder man (whom he had talked to on the phone) said.

“
I don’t need it.”

“
Please, James, I insist.”

Grey had started to walk towards the door and he stopped and turned around. This conversation couldn’t be avoided, not in the long-term. “I guess you’re Father Rossi?”

“
That’s right. And this is Father Sciali,” Father Rossi said. He extended his hand to Grey and Grey stared at it as it remained outstretched, weighing up whether he should shake hands with this man. This was a man of God whose cause was technically noble, as Grey accepted that Laura’s past actions had made the investigation valid, the situation very complex. Yet if he received them warmly he would feel like he was disrespecting Laura’s memory. Father Sciali offered his hand too, though Grey felt less bad at refusing to shake his hand. Grey had thought his upper body was in good condition after all of those months wheeling himself around and he paled in comparison next to this heavyweight priest whom he was mindful of as a threat.

Eventually Grey shook Father Rossi’s hand and then shook Father Sciali’s hand too. “You’re well travelled,” Grey muttered, very uncomfortable at this staged meeting. This was no coincidence and he now wished that Manning had got this job over him.

“
I said back in the Holy City that I would travel to the ends of the earth on this mission, and so far I have,” Father Rossi said genially. “Have a seat, this may take some time.”

“
I’m supposed to be working,” Grey said, though he did sit down opposite them. Men of God always made Grey nervous and he looked at his feet as he spoke, stating defiantly, “I’m not telling you anything about Laura Spencer.”

“
I’m disappointed to hear that, James, though I’m not surprised. We have investigated Laura Spencer for a year and we hoped that you might have known a lot of the answers to the questions that needed to be clarified conclusively.”

“
Sorry, but that’s all doublespeak to me,” Grey said. “I’m not trying to be awkward. I understand you’re only doing your jobs. One thing I’ll tell you about Laura. I’ve talked to her since she saw you, and I know that you two can do damage, so that affects how I view you.”

“
That was a test,” Father Rossi said as his trained gorilla sat silently. Grey was half tempted to make a sudden movement to see how he’d react though thought better of it.

“
What’s next, throwing her in the ocean to see if she floats? It’s extreme activities like this that give your lot a bad rap. Live and let live, Father,” Grey said, trying to be civil, controlling his tone. He did not want an argument and wanted this resolved quickly.

“
Umberto,” Father Rossi said and Father Sciali stood up and left the room and returned with two boxes which he placed at Father Rossi’s side and he knelt down and passed the senior priest several folders from the boxes which Father Rossi put on a coffee table for Grey to peruse.

“
They’re in Italian,” Grey said, closing the folder.

“
Latin, but no matter. I can tell you what they concern. These files cover over 700 years of the activities of the Ninth Heretic in her various guises. Over 300 murders are recounted here...”

“
Can any be proven?” Grey responded. “These aren’t original texts.”

“
No, the originals are back home. These were scribed by myself and Umberto, which took a long time and was a worthwhile endeavour as we educated ourselves about the beast in the process. If you do not wish to talk about Miss Spencer then our investigation is now concluded and appropriate action will be taken,” Father Rossi said ominously.

“
Hold up. What does that mean?” Grey said – it was all academic as she was dead but he kept up the pretence.

“
These files reveal the truth about the witch you know as Laura Spencer. Our subsequent findings have also been troubling. I had ventured that you would have offered some evidence for the defence, as I understand she showed compassion towards you during the war and throughout your miraculous recovery.”

“
Laura’s secrets, good and bad, are not mine to reveal,” Grey said, unmoved at this ploy. If she had still been alive he might have sung her praises to try and get them to call off the witch hunt. As she was dead he knew she would prefer total discretion.

“
Perhaps you have your own secrets you would like to share. You can unburden yourself to me, if you wish to confess.”

Grey began sweating like a pig. What was it about holy men that they were able to get under his skin, make him feel guilty for what he was? He was not a heathen yet suddenly felt like one. Father Sciali walked behind Grey to return to his seat by Father Rossi on the sofa and this unnerved him further.

“
Err...thank you for the offer, but I’m not with your crowd. I can see why you might think that, with my family being Irish origins, but we’ve always been Protestant.”

“
I think it would be beneficial for you to change denomination. There is a church a few streets away which would welcome you into the congregation. I would advise you to start attending at least once a week,” Father Rossi said pointedly. “Father Marquez would help you structure your life in a more constructive way.”

“
Gifts like mine – I figure you know I’m a medium – they don’t have to be the devil’s work,” Grey said defensively.

“
Your activities are not to my choosing. I personally believe that you would be better off changing your direction. The company you keep reflects on you. If you insist on still performing that is your choice. As long as you agree to join Father Marquez’ flock then this can be resolved another day, by the good Father,” Father Rossi said, the inference being that if Grey didn’t agree to be monitored by Father Marquez, then these two would be on his case.

“
My future isn’t the pressing matter. Your proceedings against Laura are what concerns me more.”

“
You say you don’t wish to talk about her.”

“
I still want to know what you have planned for her.”

“
Very well. Laura was an abomination once, a true creature of the dark. I have found no evidence that she has committed any of the offences that she was renowned for in centuries. She has withdrawn from the mainstream society and appears to have no inclination to terrorise or hurt innocents anymore and therefore, we can be more lenient than originally proposed. We have to stay vigilant and she still must be contained.”

“
I know that your friend here is a skilled martial artist. You really think that would be enough against...never mind.”

“
Will you consider seeing Father Marquez? He has no involvement in our campaign,” Father Rossi said, pressing him for an answer. As Grey mused this over he continued, “We will be heading home soon. Your pace of life is too fast for me here. There are other projects awaiting Umberto and myself. If you like I can leave a contact address, should you wish to talk to me again.”

“
Your food’s getting cold,” Grey said, changing the subject. He stood up , ready to leave and Father Rossi stared up at him and the avuncular visage faded as his expression blackened.

“
I do not expect you to change your lifestyle overnight. That is why I am strongly suggesting you visit Father Marquez who will help you on your journey. If you choose not to see him then I trust that when we meet again, Mr Grey, that you will be more honest. We know you visited the Unole reservation.”

Grey’s heart was starting to play up, beating way too fast and he was forced to lean on his chair for support. Father Rossi noted that he looked unwell and was breathing heavily and he commanded Umberto to fetch him a glass of water as he tried to help Grey. He approached Grey until he saw this made him even more uneasy and he backed off and said, “Undo the top buttons of your shirt.”