Ghosts Know by Ramsey Campbell

Author:Ramsey Campbell [Campbell, Ramsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror, Fiction
ISBN: 9780765336330
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

24: The Hesitant Researcher

“Mary Chrystal speaking.”

“Forgive me for calling you between funerals. I was wondering if you could tell me—I’m sorry, I don’t know how you like to be addressed.”

“No need to keep apologising. Call me Mary, of course. All my friends do.”

“Well, thank you, Mary. Is it right you were officiating at the funeral before Sheila Cartwright’s on Saturday?”

“Wasn’t that Kylie Goodchild? Then yes, I was.”

“I was wondering what you could tell me about the young man who seemed so upset.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Why he was, if you’ve any idea.”

“He was poor Kylie’s boyfriend.”

‘Are you saying that’s all? I realise it should be enough.”

“Do you mean the argument he had outside the chapel afterwards?”

“I did see that”

“Mrs Goodchild called me about it later. Apparently Wayne felt the gentleman he spoke to shouldn’t have been there.”

“Why was that, do you know?”

“He, that’s the gentleman, he’s the host of a radio programme Kylie must have liked. Perhaps Wayne thought he was there for the publicity and not because he cared about her. I’m not saying that was the truth.”

“Wayne, you said.”

“Wayne Stanley. I had him down to speak about Kylie but when it came to it he couldn’t. Sadly that’s often the case.”

“I wonder how I could get in touch with him.”

“May I ask why, Mr..?”

“Of course you can. The name, my name’s Childer, by the way. I’d like to give him something that might help the situation.”

“That’s kind of you, Mr Childer. May I know what it is?”

“Just something personal. Would you happen to know where I can find him?”

“If you’d like to leave it here for me I could pass it on to him.”

“I don’t want to put you to any more trouble.”

“You’ve put me to none at all yet, and that wouldn’t be any either.”

“Well, thank you,” I murmur and end the call. I’ve asked her enough, and she has given me some of the information I need. Besides, keeping my voice low to disguise it has been quite a task, if not as much of one as carrying off the second half of today’s Wilde Card, where I kept thinking callers might be cronies of Wayne’s, whatever name they gave and wherever they said they were from. If they were using mobiles they could have called from anywhere, and I couldn’t trust them to address the subject they said they’d called about until they finished speaking. In fact nobody referred to Kylie Goodchild, but I still felt as if she might bob up unannounced. When the show was done at last Christine told me she’d kept nobody off the air, which only left me suspecting she had.

I’m in her apartment, sitting on the pale plump firm sofa that barely admits to its pattern of delicate silvery leaves. Shelves are built into all four corners of the room, and whichever way I face I’m aware of books with names that end with question marks. The memorial brochure from the funeral identified Mary Chrystal, though I had to phone the chapel to discover which service she’d conducted next.

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