Other
Read books online » Other » Turquoiselle Tanith Lee (the snowy day read aloud txt) 📖

Book online «Turquoiselle Tanith Lee (the snowy day read aloud txt) 📖». Author Tanith Lee



1 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 ... 61
Go to page:
a vaporous incoherent green, and a while after arabbit or big rodent sprang through like a firework. It was 2 a.m.

Carverlowered the glasses, and closed his eyes for a scatter of seconds to clearthem.

Whenhe looked again, firstly without the visual aid, a figure, clearly man-shaped,was standing about fifteen paces outside the wall of his garden.

Justas Robby J had had it, Carver too was not sure which way the figure was facing.It seemed to have no face, norany back or front. Even scanning it again through the erratic I/R theimpression, if now haloed green, was of something less than human, featureless,yet having a head, two long legs and two long arms and a long thin torso, andall of these sheathed in a liquid rubber of blackness.

Withextreme care Carver put down the glasses, and edged closer to the side of thewindow.

Thefaceless figure had not seemed to arrive, not even to evolve – as some CGIcontrivance might have in a supernatural movie... It was not there, then it was.

Andit did not stir.

Hewaited, not taking his eyes off it, preferring them now to the fluctuatingglasses. And minutes ticked themselves antlike along his watch, more thanaudible in the unbreathing quiet. The shape was male, Carver decided. But thatwas all. It had no giveaways, offered no movement, was like some constructapproximating a man – that in one or two seconds had slotted itself throughfrom nowhere, and was now fixed forever.

Outalong the lane a pair of cats began a yowling battle song. Carver did notchange position or lose concentration. Did not blink, and so saw the figureafter all come slowly and jerkily alive. Like a toy, whose faulty mechanism hadalready abruptly re-engaged, it pivoted, and the faceless black blob of itshead rotated in the direction of the sound.

Afterwhich it took a single step. Only one. And again, it was gone. Even the glassescould not find it then. Had it dropped, smeared itself flat to the earth? Hadit passed behind a solid partition which had only seemed the openwork patches of trees andshadow, but which could not be, so thoroughly did they now conceal?

Carverdid not move.

Hewaited.

Nothing.

Thecats shrieked a crescendo and ceased their argument.

Whennext he looked at his watch it was two forty-three.

Attwo forty-five a light burst inside Johnston’s upper window, and soon struckthe lower ones, like a thrown egg of fire. Bits of the fire-yolk dripped outalso on to the woods. They revealed nothing significant.

Whenpresently Carver checked from the rest of the house windows, back and front, upand down, nothing at all seemed about.

Amotorbike snarled in the distance. But as a getaway vehicle it would beattention-seeking and unlikely. And he had not heard it before.

Aroundan hour after, all the lights went off again in Johnston’s cottage. The theatrecurtain had come down on the scene. Carver could feel this: instinct ortraining, either, both.

Despitethat he watched until the sky began to pale and push higher, before he left thewindow, finished the coffee, and lay down on the bed.

Hewould sleep one hour. Then take a walk in the woods.

 

Seven

After showering,he checked the games key Icon of his iPhone. It was routine to do so. Clue Up, it read, One down. And at anothertouch: AnyJudge’s Main Verdict. Holding steady on Dusa then, thesameletter-numerals. He touched the screen again, for Today’s Lucky Stone. It was Emerald. The alert hadheightened, from blue to green. Nothing had come up on the radio, TV or otherlegitimate news outlets, which he had also been checking fairly regularly. Thisafternoon his new schedule began, and he was due back in Trench Street around 9a.m. tomorrow. He considered contacting Latham now. But if Latham had decidedthere should be contact, it would probably have happened, and had not. Andfirst thing this morning, even before going out, Carver had again run throughthe existing files on his computer, particularly the file on The Third Scar. Everything wasthere, nothing seemed altered or obscured, in any way. He retained thereforehis permit, and could study and work on them as normal. Which implied he wasnot, then, (was he?) suspect.

Carverwent down to the kitchen and put bacon in the steel pan to fry. His body washungry and the smell pleased it, although his mind moved uneasily elsewhere.

Thewoods, an hour and a half after dawn, had been empty of anything unusual, letalone informative. He had not really anticipated much else. The image of theblack-camouflaged man, however odd it had appeared, had been real, concrete, afact. Its behaviour, its apparent tricks of visibility and vanishment might evenbe due to some coincidental, quirky but logical happenstance. For could it –he – have been certain anyway he was under surveillance? The intruder was mostprobably a nobody up to nothing at all.

Butshould Carver inform Latham of the man in the woods?

Itseemed more prudent, and less edgy, to tell Latham in person tomorrow.

Carverwould need though to drop in on Robby J, say that he had kept an eyeout, and had noted somebody around.But Carver thought he would add the man was most likely a wildlife-spotter.(Maybe he even was.) The main thing in any case was to deter Johnston fromcalling in the police, which could cause muddle, some kind of cluttering up,either of the perfectly innocuous – that might then turn resentful (thewildlife-fan becoming nasty and summoning  his mates once the law had gone) – or,if the source were other, untidy any genuine evidence.

Carverknew, despite the untampered-with files, despite his being let go, free itseemed as air after Latham had played him the surreal recording, that allcurious follow-up events could well have their source in Mantik.

Withoutquite being shown it at first, a leash might be on Carver now. Loose fittingenough it felt he could do as he wanted. Yet just now and then, almost to beglimpsed from the corners of his eyes, felt as it tapped, gentle, noose–like, on hisneck.

Going backthrough the wooded lane, heading for Johnston’s cottage about 10 a.m., Carverfound automatically he still scanned from side to side. But of course therewas nothing, as there had been nothing valid detectable by him during hisinitial search. If available, he would have found

1 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 ... 61
Go to page:

Free ebook «Turquoiselle Tanith Lee (the snowy day read aloud txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment