The Turnkey Page 8

  “What is it?” Flossie was over her shoulder in a second. It seemed to be more building plans.

  “Oh!” Violet gasped. “Oh, no. No!”

  “What? What is it?” By the look on Violet’s face, Flossie knew it was something terrible.

  “I know why Viktor Brun mentioned Kensal Green and Highgate.”

  Chapter 19

  In which Flossie and Violet visit the Hall of the Dead

  Flossie steeled herself for Violet’s explanation. “These,” Violet held up the drawing plans, “these are for another building. A building that will stand where St Paul’s now stands. The building they want to govern our country from.”

  “What?” Flossie exploded.

  “And these and these.” Violet passed Flossie up several pieces of paper. “These are for barracks. Barracks that will be built at Highgate. And at Kensal Green. As it says, ‘large, unused spaces, ideal for levelling and building on without delay’.”

  “No.” Flossie examined the men sitting at the table and imagined them and their twilight counterpart ruling her country. Taking over her cemetery. Disturbing all her interred – including her sister and her niece. And, in that moment, she saw that it could really happen. That Viktor Brun could find a way to make it happen.

  “I think we should take these papers with us,” Violet said, beginning to put some of the papers into a pile. “Hugo will want to see–” She visibly froze. “Wait. I can feel him. Viktor Brun. He’s here. On the floor below us, I think. But he’s coming closer. Quick! We need to hide!”

  Flossie’s eyes searched the room. The pillars weren’t wide enough to conceal them, however several large trunks had been stacked underneath one window.

  “Behind there.” Flossie pointed and the girls ran as fast as they could, Violet scooping up her skirt and hiding it behind the trunks at the very last second. Violet tapped Flossie’s arm to indicate that Viktor was now in the room.

  He lost no time in making his presence felt, his voice belting out a barrage of German. This was more for his own benefit than anyone else’s, because the living officers couldn’t hear him.

  Violet leaned over and whispered into Flossie’s ear. “He’s yelling at the spiritualist. He’s angry that he couldn’t sense that he was waiting downstairs.”

  The spiritualist didn’t answer.

  There was a pause from Viktor Brun, then another tirade. Louder this time. Flossie’s jaw closed tight as she listened to the ranting of the Man with No Heart and wondered about all those who had faced him in life.

  “He’s calling the spiritualist ridiculous. Worthless,” Violet continued to whisper.

  Then another voice called out – a voice that shushed the living men.

  Silence, then …

  “Er ist hier!” the voice that had shushed everyone called out. It sounded as if a chair crashed to the floor as well. As if someone had stood in surprise. It had to be the spiritualist. So, he’d finally felt Viktor Brun’s presence. There was much talking from all of the living men.

  Violet strained, trying to catch what they were saying. “They’re going downstairs, to something called the ‘Hall of the Dead’.”

  Flossie’s eyebrows shot up. That sort of a name couldn’t be a good thing.

  After a while, Flossie could hear footsteps. The men were leaving. When it sounded as if the last person had left the room, she peeked over the top of the trunks. No one was in sight.

  “We have to follow them down there,” Flossie said.

  * * *

  Flossie and Violet kept their distance, tracking the men through the castle. Eventually, they started down a set of steep stone steps with an iron handrail and then the men disappeared into a room where they stopped.

  Flossie took in the room as best she could from her position, her back pressed up against the wall. She and Violet needed to stay out of Viktor Brun’s line of sight.

  The circular room was made entirely of stone and rose to a large dome, decorated, again, with swastikas. Beneath all of this, in the centre of the room, a round pit held an eternal flame, which flickered and danced, throwing light onto the cream-coloured stone of the walls. There were twelve plinths surrounding the flame, which clearly corresponded to the twelve seats upstairs. Flossie could see they were meant to hold something important – maybe even ashes, considering the room was called the “Hall of the Dead”.

  Craning her neck, Flossie took a peek at Viktor Brun. He was standing close to a group of the men around a specific plinth, the crystal skull under his arm. The spiritualist placed a black velvet drawstring bag on top of it and opened it up.

  When Flossie saw what was in it, she jolted. It was another crystal skull! One that was far, far brighter than the skull that Viktor Brun held. She immediately panicked.

  The Nazis had two crystal skulls?

  Seeing her startle, Violet caught her arm.

  “Two skulls?” Flossie whispered.

  Violet shook her head. “No. Don’t you see?” she replied. “Oh, Flossie. I know what they’ve done now,” she whispered. “They’re clever. So horribly, terribly clever.”

  Flossie frowned. She still didn’t understand.

  “Look again,” Violet said, seeing her confusion. “Closely.”

  Flossie tried to calm herself and view the scene before her once more. There was Viktor Brun holding his crystal skull, and there was the other crystal skull on the plinth, gleaming under the light of the flames, making Brun’s seem dull by comparison and …

  Oh.

  Oh, of course.

  There was only ever one skull.

  “It’s the same skull, isn’t it?” she whispered to Violet. “Only Viktor Brun has the twilight copy.”

  “Yes. The skull you saw first deceived you because of its brightness, but they’re attuned. One is linked to the other. I can feel the vibrations.”

  “How is that possible?” Flossie struggled to work out how they’d achieved all of this.

  “Think of Hugo and his walking stick and his top hat,” Violet said.

  Flossie frowned again. To be honest, she preferred not to think of Hugo Howsham at all if she could help it.

  “Items that are buried with the dead remain with them,” Violet prodded. “You, of all people, know that.”

  This was true. Like Violet had said, this was why Hugo Howsham had his fancy walking stick. And how Amelia would have had a doll if her parents had buried her with one. Items of significance that were buried with the dead remained with them in the twilight forevermore.

  However, things still didn’t make sense.

  “If he was buried with the crystal skull and that’s how he has a copy of it in the twilight, how do they have the real crystal …” Flossie trailed off as she started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “Ah.”

  “Yes,” Violet said. “Rather disgusting, but that’s what I believe they’ve done.”

  Flossie made a face as Violet continued on with her explanation.

  “I’m guessing that, some time after his burial, the living members of this society retrieved the original crystal skull from his grave.”

  Flossie shuddered with the thought of it – of the living officers opening up his coffin and prising the crystal skull from his hands. “How do you think they knew that it would work? How could they even know that objects buried with a person would be replicated in the twilight?”

  Violet gestured towards the spiritualist. “I very much doubt that they did. I think that our friend here guessed and hoped that this might be the case. In life, I’d always wondered myself if objects buried with the dead held significance in the twilight. People have believed this to be the case for a long time, after all. Remember what the Ancient Egyptians used to bury with their dead – chariots, couches, mummified cats – some of the earlier Pharaohs even took their servants with them. I suppose the timing and nature of Viktor Brun’s death was right to test out the skull’s abilities, though I have no idea how they managed to capture Viktor Bru
n’s soul within it.”

  Flossie’s eyes moved back to the two skulls. One in the living world. One in the twilight.

  And if she could have cried, she would have, because it was now obvious that Viktor Brun had done it after all.

  He’d found a way to bridge two worlds that were never meant to be connected in any way.

  Chapter 20

  In which Flossie and Violet return home

  Inside the domed room, the living men’s voices began to rise steadily, bouncing off the ceiling with strange acoustics.

  Flossie leaned in close to Violet. “What’s going on?” It sounded as if they were arguing about something.

  Violet listened in as the voices became even more heated, then she began to whisper as fast as she could, combining the arguing voices into one.

  You put him in the stupid skull with your strange death ritual, now get him out!

  I can’t get him out, you ridiculous man. He’s dead. It’s only his soul that’s in there.

  But all we’ve been able to retrieve so far is some basic information on troop movements. It’s not enough. We need more.

  Violet and Flossie’s eyes met. So it was true. He was getting information through to the living. Flossie’s lifeless heart sank as the voices rose again and Violet continued to translate.

  What’s the point of Brun following Churchill around if he can’t tell us everything he’s seen and heard easily?

  Don’t you understand it’s not that simple? There is so much noise in the skull. So much disagreement. So much distraction.

  Flossie reached out and clutched Violet’s arm. “The other person,” she said. “The other voice I heard. The second soul.”

  Violet nodded in agreement, her eyes still on the men. Her hand reached out to grab at Flossie’s arm. “Oh no!” she hissed.

  Flossie took in as much of the scene as she could. The living officers had quietened down and stepped away, leaving the spiritualist alone with the crystal skull on its plinth. Viktor Brun stood above the skull, both hands on top of it. The spiritualist kneeled on the floor, his hands on the skull as well. When all was silent, the spiritualist began to breathe slowly, in and out.

  Meanwhile, one of the living officers hovered by the spiritualist’s side, notebook and pencil in hand.

  For a long time, all was silent. And then the spiritualist began to murmur under his breath. At first his voice was halting and unsure, but as time passed, he began to sound surer of himself, the phrases rolling faster off his tongue.

  “I can’t hear what he’s saying,” Flossie whispered into Violet’s ear, worried about being heard by Viktor Brun now that the room was so much quieter.

  Violet closed her eyes, listening hard. “Something about the War Rooms and some names. Names of ships, I think.”

  Flossie covered her mouth, stifling a gasp. “No! Violet, we have to do something.” She grabbed at both of Violet’s arms. “How can we stop him?”

  Violet’s brow was furrowed with thought. “I don’t know, I … I think the only way would be to sever the connection. And the only way I can see to do that would be to destroy the crystal skull in the living world.”

  “How? We can’t destroy something in the living world. And, oh–” Flossie remembered something. “The other person!”

  Violet’s face fell. “You’re right. If we destroy the skull, not only would Viktor Brun’s soul be lost forever, but the soul of the other person too.”

  Flossie knew how wrong it would be to destroy the soul of an innocent person. Without a soul, no person could ever be properly, and happily, at rest.

  “I can’t think of any other way to stop him,” Violet said.

  Flossie scrutinised the skull. It almost seemed to be alight as the eternal flame fluttered and danced in front of it. As she watched, the spiritualist’s voice began to murmur again and the officer beside him took more notes.

  More information.

  They didn’t have any time to waste. “Let’s go,” Flossie told Violet. “We’ve learned what we came here to find out. Now let’s see what we can do about it.”

  * * *

  It was as Flossie had said. They now knew what the Ahnenerbe was. They knew who was involved in it, what they were doing and what they were capable of. They also knew that Viktor Brun could do what they had feared – he could pass messages to the living via the crystal skull.

  The dead were now officially at war along with the living.

  Safely back outside the castle, Violet and Flossie stopped at the end of the bridge. Flossie turned back towards the castle and caught a flash of black out of the corner of her eye. Wait, had that been … For a second she thought it might have been Hugo Howsham’s coat disappearing around the castle’s stone wall. She was seeing things. She needed to stop being so jumpy and concentrate. Just as she was about to speak, she noticed something in Violet’s expression.

  “What is it?” Flossie asked.

  “I’ve only now put two and two together,” Violet answered, moving the papers she held from one hand to the other. “Do you remember I told you about the Externsteine?”

  “The rock formation?”

  “Yes,” Violet said. “I heard them mention it just before we left and they also said something about the upcoming full moon. It finally makes sense to me. I think they’re going to try to concentrate the connection between the two skulls and the worlds of the living and the dead by using the site during a full moon.”

  “Would that work?” Flossie asked.

  “Unfortunately, I think it would.”

  Flossie wanted to slump onto the hard stone beneath her feet. She felt just the same as she had on first awakening in Highgate Cemetery when she had been told she was in charge of hundreds of thousands of interred. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t know how. Or what to do. Or when to do it.

  “How will we know when the time is right?” Flossie asked.

  “They’ll wait until the moon is at its highest peak. The spiritualist will be able to tell them exactly when that is, and I’ll be able to tell you. I’ve always been able to feel the waxing and waning of the moon and I can feel it still, even in our world. Flossie, I think this could work well for us. If what I think they have in mind is right, the crystal skull will be up high on the rock formation. It would be situated in quite a vulnerable spot.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, one good push …”

  Their eyes met as they thought about that second person. Flossie didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all. But if they didn’t destroy the skull, how many other lives would be lost? There were no right answers to be had here. It seemed there never were in war.

  “So, one push,” Flossie said. “How? How can we move an object in the living world?”

  It was clear that neither of them had any idea.

  “We’ll think of a way,” Violet said.

  “We have to,” Flossie replied, her gaze moving back to the hills beyond the castle. Once again, she wondered if she should tell Violet about Viktor Brun and her father. She wanted to, but still thought it would be unwise. If Hugo Howsham found out she had a personal connection to Viktor Brun, she’d never hear the end of it.

  Violet’s hand came to rest upon her arm. “Let’s return home,” she said.

  * * *

  Flossie opened her eyes directly outside Kensal Green Cemetery. She tapped her iron ring upon the small iron gates set inside the larger ones for the living. She expected Hugo Howsham to appear on the other side of the gates in an instant and when he didn’t, she became wary. Had she seen him at Wewelsburg Castle? Then she caught sight of him on a path some distance away and he shot towards them, his top coat flying out impressively behind him. Somehow, that man always had her on the back foot.

  “Miss Birdwhistle.” Hugo Howsham swung his key on its iron ring into his hand and unlocked the gate to his cemetery. As he pulled the gate open for his sister, Flossie took a step back, which she instantly regretted – she hated
letting him think for one second that she wasn’t up to her role, even if she often felt that way herself.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have very good news,” Flossie said, gesturing towards the papers Violet held.

  “I’ll explain everything to Hugo. And I’ll fetch you when the full moon is near,” Violet said hurriedly. Flossie understood – it was best to leave her to break the news to her brother. She would know how to handle him. “Don’t worry,” Violet added. “We’ll work something out.”

  Hugo Howsham watched the pair closely, but when he saw that no more information was immediately forthcoming, he returned to locking the gates.

  “Before you go, I have a message for you,” he said when he was done with the lock and Violet was standing safely beside him. “The Turnkey of Tower Hamlets was here. She said to tell you that you must go to see someone called Grace immediately. Apparently she and her sister have both been taken into surgery.”

  Chapter 21

  In which Flossie attempts to convince Grace to live

  Flossie wavered. She didn’t have much time. She needed to return to Highgate and speak to Hazel, but she also wanted to help Grace.

  In the end, she decided to make a quick visit to Lambeth Hospital.

  Grace’s twilight form was in the same corridor that Flossie had left her in. She was sitting on a chair close to the entrance to the surgical theatres. She seemed smaller than ever – her back hunched over, her gas mask box pushed to one side. Michael was talking to her quietly. His eyes met Flossie’s as she approached and he shook his head.

  “The sisters had some time together, in a ward,” Michael said. He took a moment to smooth his moustache. “It seems both had internal bleeding of sorts. They went back to surgery at almost the same time. Ruth … she didn’t make it.”

  Flossie’s hand flew to her mouth. Oh, no. Poor Grace. “Has anyone come to see them? I heard they have an aunt nearby,” Flossie said.

  “Afraid not.”

  Flossie’s shoulders sagged.

  “I’ll grab a breath of fresh air outside,” Michael said, then paused, realising what he’d said. “So to speak.”