Death Trance

Thirty-One

After dinner, when Gilly had gone upstairs, and Enid and Quamus had retired to the kitchen to deal with the dishes, I sat by candlelight with Duglass Evelith in his library. He showed me book after book, document after document, until the table was heaped high with them. Each related to Mictantecutli, and the demon's terrible power. By the time midnight struck, I was quite convinced that we were up against a force so cold and so malevolent that by comparison it made Satan seem positively cozy.

I said to Duglass Evelith, 'Bringing Mictantecutli up to the surface seems quite urgent now, doesn't it?'

The old man sniffed, and shrugged. 'It's difficult to say. This present activity may be caused by nothing more than exceptionally warm currents, flowing over the wreck. Mictantecutli responds to warmth, remember, and is rendered immobile by intense cold. Perhaps when winter comes, the manifestations will die down again. But personally I would rather not take the risk; quite apart from the desire that I have to free my ancestor from Tezcatlipoca. The interest that you and your friends have shown in locating the David Dark will prove to be a Godsend, I believe.'

'Mr Evelith,' I said, uncomfortably, 'I'm afraid to say that my friends and I have had a falling out.'

'Oh? This won't affect the salvage, I hope?'

'Well, I'm sorry to say that it might. You see, my friends, being professional museum archivists, are anxious to preserve the wreck itself in the exact condition in which it has been found. I know that's understandable, and probably admirable, too; or at least it would be if we were dealing with nothing more than an ordinary wreck. The problem is that if the wreck is going to be properly preserved, the process of bringing up the copper vessel is going to take considerably longer than I first believed. It might not even be brought up this diving season.'

'You mean Mictantecutli may be left lying there for another year?'

'More than likely. I argued against it, but the rest of them wouldn't budge. None of them have been haunted by dead wives, or ghostly brothers. They believe in Mictantecutli, for sure, but they don't really understand what they're up against. Their attitude is too academic. They can't see the urgency.'

Old man Evelith looked down at the heaps of books and papers. 'Perhaps they ought to come and see these,' he said. 'Maybe then they'd understand.'

'Mr Evelith, I don't think there's time. Miss McCormick told me this evening that Mr Wardwell proposes to register ownership of the wreck tomorrow, which would make it an offence for anybody else to damage it or exploit it; and that the coastguard are likely to start patrolling it to prevent anybody from diving there. Remember that Mr Wardwell works for the Peabody, which is heavy Salem establishment; and that the Salem authorities will give him all the protection and encouragement he needs. After all, the David Dark is going to be a big tourist attraction, once she's raised.'

'Not if they don't make every effort to control Mictantecutli,' said Mr Evelith, darkly.

'There's another point. Mr Wardwell isn't going to deliver Mictantecutli to you straight away, like he promised. He's decided to take a good look at it first, to see what it is that you want so badly.'

'He'll be torn to pieces,' said Mr Evelith. 'Is he mad?! He'll be torn to pieces! Doesn't he know what Mictantecutli is, even now? You must stop him! Mr Trenton, you must do everything you can to stop him!'

I shook my head. 'I've already tried, Mr Evelith. He's made up his mind. Wreck first, Mictantecutli second, open the copper vessel third. Gilly — that's Miss McCormick — Gilly says he won't be swayed.'

Duglass Evelith was extremely agitated. He walked around the table, and then back again, and then he closed all the books he had opened, one after the other, in a succession of snaps. At last he looked up at me and said, 'You must dive on the David Dark very first thing tomorrow morning. You must bring up that copper vessel at all costs. Otherwise, my God, the world will see such havoc as has never been seen in nine life-times.'

'That's what I was going to propose,' I told him. 'A quick dive, first thing tomorrow, with a couple of crowbars and a winch.'

'You think crowbars will be adequate?' Duglass Evelith asked me. 'Look here.'

He shuffled through his heaps of papers until he found a sketch-map of the Mary Rose which he had been studying in an effort to understand the problems that faced us with the David Dark. 'The copper vessel is in the hold,' he said. 'That means, even if the ship is lying at an angle of 30 degrees, you will still have to penetrate your way through three decks and God knows how many tons of silt before you reach it. I can understand why Mr Wardwell is so reluctant to bring it up in a hurry. The only way to reach it in anything like a reasonable length of time is to tear the decks wide apart. The copper vessel in fact is so long that it is quite possible that part of each deck was lifted at the time to accommodate it, and then fastened down again once it was securely stowed.'

Then how the hell am I going to get it out of there in one morning's diving?' I wanted to know.

'Simple,' said old man Evelith. 'I have an old friend who has a demolition business at Lexington. Quamus will drive over there now and collect two cases of dynamite, and some underwater fuses.'

'Dynamite? I've never used dynamite in my life. You mean you want me to blow the David Dark to pieces?'

'Can you think of another way to reach Mictantecutli before the wreck is registered, and the coastguard prevent anybody from going near?'

'I — ' I began, and then raised my hands in resignation.

'You mustn't worry,' said Duglass Evelith. 'Quamus is an expert diver, and he will swim with you. He knows Mr Walcott of the Salem Salvage Company; years ago they used to dive together. Mr Walcott will let us use his boat and all his equipment. I will ask Quamus to call him as soon as he returns from Lexington.'

'Do you think Quamus is up to it?' I asked. 'He must be at least 60 years old.'

'Quamus has been here at Billington ever since I was a child,' said Duglass Evelith. 'My father used to talk about the rides that Quamus gave him on his back when he was a child.'

'Are you serious? That would make him- '

'Well over 100 years old,' Duglass Evelith nodded.

'Yes. I have often thought about it myself. But it is not a question which one can put to Quamus. He would never answer; and it is quite likely that he would walk out and I would never see him again. But it is interesting to note that there is a Quamus mentioned in Joseph Evelith's diary of 1689.'

I stayed silent. In Duglass Evelith's house, I felt myself to be on strange and almost magical territory. It wasn't altogether a frightening sensation: but I felt that I had to conduct myself with caution. There was great influence here, influence that couldn't be explained in logical or scientific terms, and as long as I behaved wisely, I would probably be able to use it for my own benefit.

'It would be sensible for you to get some sleep now,' said Duglass Evelith. 'I will have Quamus wake you at six o'clock. Over breakfast, I will explain how you will use the dynamite on the David Dark.'

I got up. 'Goodnight, then,' I said. 'And thank you again for putting me up here.'

'A question of mutual interests,' said old man Evelith, and went back to reading one of his books before I could say anything else. It was only when I was halfway up the dark staircase, on the way up to bed, that I realized what I had actually let myself in for. An illegal underwater demolition job, despite the fact that I had scarcely any experience of diving, and no experience whatsoever with dynamite.

Gilly was sitting up in bed when I came in; and there was a warm fragrance of perfume around. She was reading A History of Oceanic Geology. I sat down on the end of the bed, and stripped off my necktie. 'Good?' I asked her, nodding towards the book.

'Riveting,' she said. 'What kept you so long?'

'Old man Evelith and his mouldy old documents. No, I shouldn't say that. He's fascinating, especially when it comes to the occult history of Salem and Granitehead. Do you know what he told me about Quamus?'

'Quamus gives me the creeps.'

'Quamus gives you the creeps? I found out tonight that Quamus is nearly 300 years old.'

'How much of that brandy did you have?'

'Not enough.'

I undressed, washed my teeth, and then climbed into bed. I had already showered once that evening, and the noise of the pipework had been enough to frighten me off showers forever. Rattling, and groaning, and letting out echoing shrieks.

Gilly lay back, and reached out for me, gently parting her thighs. I climbed astride her, kissing her forehead and her eyes and her neck, and then her shoulders, and her soft pink nipples. We made love silently, as if it were a midnight ritual; prolonging each moment until it was impossible to prolong it any more. I looked down, and saw my hardness enclosed by her tight and succulent lips, and fear and anxiety and grisly manifestations seemed very far away, like an off key orchestra playing in another part of the house.

'Maybe I ought to talk to Edward again,' I said, when the lights were switched off, and we lay in the unfamiliar darkness. 'Maybe he won't be so pigheaded after all.'

'You could try. Do you want me to mention it to him?'

I was quiet for a moment, as if I was thinking about it. The truth was, I was trying to allay any possible fears that Edward might have that I would dive on the wreck before he registered it. If Gilly were to go back to him and suggest that he and I should have a friendly discussion about the raising of the copper vessel, say in a day or so, then he would hardly be likely to suspect that I would try to sneak down there while the David Dark was still unmarked and unprotected.

Quamus woke me at 5:55, when Gilly was still asleep. She lay with her hair spread out on the pillow, one breast bare, and I discreetly covered her up before I tiptoed out. My clothes were already laid out for me in the drawing-room, and Quamus whispered, 'Breakfast right away, Mr Trenton.'

When I went downstairs to the oak-panelled dining room, the sunlight was already penetrating the French doors at the far end, and sparkling on the silverware and the Spode plates. There were lightly-scrambled eggs, muffins, and coffee. Mr Evelith had ordered that I should not be served the full breakfast today because I was swimming.

I ate on my own for five or ten minutes, until Duglass Evelith came into the room in a bronze quilted dressing-gown, smoking a small cigar. He sat down opposite me and watched as I buttered my muffin, and then he waved the blue cigar smoke away, and said, 'I hope this doesn't bother you. It's a repulsive old habit of mine; six o'clock every morning. How do you feel?'

'Nervous.'

'Well, good. If you're nervous, then you'll be alert. I'll tell you what we've managed to arrange during the night. Quamus has obtained two cases of dynamite, as well as all the necessary fuses; and all that has been loaded on to the station wagon ready to go. Mr Walcott will be ready for you by the time you reach Salem Harbour, and will sail you out to the David Dark. When you dive, you will take down with you an airlift, and you will use this to excavate a narrow crevice in the silt, right beside the David Dark’s hull. Into this crevice you will pack both cases of dynamite, and you will then swim back to the surface, paying out fuse as you go. The fuse is largely made of magnesium, so it will burn underwater. You will light it, and then retreat from the area as quickly as possible, while the dynamite detonates. According to the preparatory work I have done during the night, the explosion should completely shatter the hull of the David Dark, and blow most of the silt out of the area where the ship has been buried. Now comes the difficult part: you will have to search the sea-bed, almost blind, for a great deal of silt will be clouding the water, and you will have to locate the copper vessel within a matter of minutes. Fortunately, Mr Walcott has metal-detecting equipment, and that should help you find it reasonably speedily. We will be keeping the coastguard away from the area by putting out a false emergency call from further up the coast, off Singing Beach, and we will just have to hope that nobody else gets too inquisitive before we are able to winch the copper vessel up to the surface.'

'What are we going to do with Mictantecutli; once we get him ashore?' I wanted to know.

'That is all arranged, too. A refrigerated truck will be waiting by the harbour, and the copper vessel will immediately be put into cold storage, and driven here. Enid will be preparing all the necessary rituals to keep Mictantecutli under our control; and she should be ready by the time we get back here.'

I looked down at my unfinished eggs. They were stone cold now, and congealing on the plate. I pushed them away, and poured myself another cup of coffee.

'If this doesn't work,' I asked old man Evelith, 'what's the worst that can happen? A $500 fine for setting off explosives? A couple of months in jail?'

Duglass Evelith pursed his lips. Those will be nothing, compared with the fury of Mictantecutli. The worst that can happen, Mr Trenton, is that every grave in Salem and Granitehead will open, and that the dead will rise to massacre the living.'

At that moment, Gilly came into the room, blinking at the sunlight. 'I woke up and you were gone,' she said. 'Does everybody get up this early around here?'

'I have to go to Boston to pick up some research material,' I lied. 'I thought I might as well make an early start.'

Gilly sat down, and Quamus came in to pour her some fresh coffee. He looked across the table at me as he did so, and by the expression on his face he seemed to be asking me whether I was ready to go. I wiped my mouth, put down my napkin, and stood up. Gilly looked at me in surprise.

'You're not even going to have breakfast with me?'

I leaned across and kissed her. ‘I’m sorry. I really have to go.'

'Are you all right?' she asked, glancing at old man Evelith as if she suspected him of kidnapping me, and injecting me with strange drugs.

‘I’m fine,' I reassured her. 'All you have to do is finish your breakfast and leave when you feel like it. I'll call you later in the day. Maybe I'll even drop in and see you. And don't forget to tell Edward that I'd like to talk.'

'I won't,' said Gilly distractedly, as I left the dining-room, and followed Quamus across the hallway and out to the garage. In the gloom of the garage, Duglass Evelith's LTD wagon was waiting, black and polished, with two large packing-cases stowed in the back, both of them unmarked. Quamus opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed in, turning around to stare at the crates in trepidation.

'How much dynamite do we have there?' I asked him.

He pressed the remote button which opened the garage door. He looked across at me and almost smiled. 'Enough to blow this car to Lynnfield, no driving necessary.'

'Very reassuring,' I told him.

We were circling the shingle driveway when Enid came down the front steps of the house and waved to us. Quamus drew the wagon to a halt and put down the window. Enid looked pale and distraught, and her hair was flying loose.

'What's wrong?' I asked her. 'Did we forget something?'

'It's Anne,' she said. 'Your doctor just called, Dr Rosen?'

That's right, Dr Rosen. What's the matter?'

'It's terrible. I sensed that something was wrong during the night. A feeling, you know, of sudden loss. A feeling that part of us had suddenly vanished. A very cold feeling.'

'What's happened?' I demanded. 'For Christ's sake, tell me what's happened.'

'She was found hanging in her room this morning. They had kept her in for one more day of observation. Then, when they went in this morning, they found her hanging. Her own belt, from the light.'

'Oh, God,' I said, and I felt my eggs begin to curdle in my stomach. Quamus touched his forehead in a sign which I assumed to be the Indian symbol for 'bless me,' or 'rest in peace.'

'She left a message,' said Enid. 'I can't remember what it said exactly, but it was addressed to you, Mr Trenton. It said something like, "Don't feel you have to keep your promise, just for me." She didn't say what promise, though, or why you didn't have to keep it.'

I closed my eyes, and then opened them again. The day looked very gray, like a harsh black-and-white photograph. 'I know what promise,' I said quietly.