A Summoning of Souls. Leanna Renee Hieber

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СКАЧАТЬ over to a seam in the wall, he fished out a curved metal hook from between the wood panels, and a panel slid out to reveal metal plates on the wall behind. The ghosts came close, peering too.

      “It’s all been about getting us to go away.” Magdalena’s voice was tiny and sad.

      “Dupont’s been mucking about with photographs for a long time,” Giacomo offered, “but the experiments, all this wire and the metal and such, that’s been about three years. Since the shadow man. We’ve been asking any spirit we see these questions. We know you need answers. We’re trying to help you piece it together.”

      “Thank you, dear children,” Eve said earnestly, looking at each spirit. “You’re so helpful. You’re right, we need answers, and proof. Each moment we’re getting closer.”

      Vera’s generally kind, warm expression was fixed in consternation. “These men.” She shook her head. “If you don’t want to be haunted, why act in a way that angers the dead?” Vera, floating in the doorway, asked the absent tenants, echoing the rhetorical question of this case.

      “I’ll let Bills know about this development,” Horowitz said. “Those postmortem photos can be evidence, if we can ever recover them from Prenze’s clutches.”

      They descended again to the main floor, and Eve peered at the only thing that had been left in the hall: a grandfather clock against the wall of the entrance hall that faced toward the open parlor arch.

      “I can see why Mrs. Dupont didn’t want to take this with her,” Eve said, grimacing. The face of the grandfather clock was an eerie, smiling half-moon that looked more like a sneering caricature of a clown than a celestial body. She peered closer at it, seeing that there were smaller clocks in each corner that were set to other cities around the globe. Each of those small hands were spinning in an unnatural manner.

      A cold dread crept over Eve at this sight, and it seemed the tall, carved wood sides of the large fixture trembled. The face of the clock suddenly careened close to hers, and strong arms seized her and swung her by the waist away from the clock and toward the other end of the hall, papers from the file scattering everywhere.

      Jacob had moved, deft and nimble to swing her out of harm’s way, covering her in a protective embrace as the clock crashed behind them against the balustrade and then to the floor in a terrible noise of clattering chimes and springing clockwork.

      Looking up at the rear door window at a flurry of movement, Eve glimpsed a man in a black hat and a long black cloak leering for a moment before vanishing.

      Prenze again and his blasted projection. The most unwelcome haunt, and now, able to manifest objects with force.

      Jacob righted Eve, and she embraced him. “Thank you!”

      The rear door swung open of its own accord, and they broke apart, both balling their hands into fists, ready to fight. But this time, there was a more welcome sight at the threshold. The spirit children reappeared.

      “We’ll help protect you,” Giacomo, again at the forefront of the trio, said. “We’ll try. If he can manifest force, maybe so can we.”

      “Thank you, Giacomo,” Eve said, lowering her fists. “I don’t want you to deny eternal rest on our account.”

      “We’ll rest once all this is settled,” the young spirit, hardened by a life and death of disrespect, declared. “These men disturbed us directly, but they’ve offended the whole spirit world now.”

      This echoed what Eve had heard from within Sanctuary.

      “This isn’t over until he’s stopped his quest,” Magdalena whispered, taking her brother’s hand. Her breathlessness made her words all the more chilling. “He wants us all gone. And he must think you are one of the reasons keeping us here.”

      At this, Eve shuddered. It was true. It wasn’t just that she was part of the inquiry into Albert Prenze, his family, his practice; it was that she tethered what he hated most.

      The detective stepped around broken clock parts to pick up all the receipts and papers from their discovery to replace them in the file.

      “I doubt after all this we’ll be able to make headway at either of our offices,” Eve said. “We should go on ahead to my house so we don’t keep the Bishops waiting. We need them. Now that Prenze while manifesting can throw things at us like a damned poltergeist… We need shields.”

      “Lead on, then, Whitby.” Tucking the file under his arm, the detective gestured toward the door. “Let us be schooled in the steeling of minds.”

      He rubbed his hands together, his tone firm as he continued. “But I’m going to request clearance on the Prenze mansion. The whole family needs to be watched. Tomorrow morning I’ll scout locations. If I recall correctly, there are a few new hotels climbing up north of Longacre Square. We’ll find one with a view of his property, procure a telescope and binoculars, and engage in some good old-fashioned surveillance.”

      He said it with such surety it actually gave Eve a surge of hope. Herein was a workable solution that avoided confrontation, something they couldn’t do yet.

      “Thank you,” she said. “Sometimes the spirits make me unable to see the forest for the trees. I don’t mean to not think like a detective, but sometimes my problem solving is all fantastical and forgets to offer up solutions in the practical.”

      “I had hoped we could pounce on something.” Horowitz exited with Eve, locking the door behind him. “But we need a lynchpin. All the rest of this”—he indicated the papers under his arm—“will fall in around it. From what I know about casework, the more personal we get, the closer to the truth. We have to know what’s going on in the family manse.”

      “Yes,” Eve mused, withdrawing the tintype from her pocket, staring at a cruel face. “Mother dearest made a monster. But I doubt it was solely her fault. I hope we can see something to prove Albert’s duplicity over Alfred, find some way to extricate him before Albert finally does him in. I wouldn’t put it past him, to just take over.”

      “We’ll need to know what’s happening,” the detective declared. “He can’t be the one doing all the watching. Let’s turn the tables.”

      Chapter Five

      Fort Denbury wasn’t terribly far south or west, two adjoining brick townhouses along Waverly Place, just off Washington Square Park. The nickname for the properties had come fondly from Maggie, and she, along with the other Ghost Precinct regulars, kept to Eve’s somber-looking side out of respect for Eve’s parents who lived in the one next door. Lady Denbury held a notable dislike of ghostly intrusion, a seemingly incurable tension between her and Eve.

      Eve glanced up Waverly toward the edges of trees nearly leafless as autumn drew cooler. Her eye caught a few luminous forms floating a stroll along the stones, losing sight of vague outlines against the white of the Washington Square Arch.

      “I’m trying to see if I can see the ghosts that catch your eye,” the detective said, as if by being around her he might pick up on more of her talents. He’d started their acquaintance an unapologetic skeptic, but he’d grown more aware and able since they’d been working together and he seemed to be warming to the ghosts’ chills.

      “I can’t help it here; I always try to see any that СКАЧАТЬ