Black London 05 - Soul Trade

himself upright. “I’lltell you how this works, then I’ll turn this over to Philip,” Dexter Killigan said. His voice, even amplified, was a thin shred of what Pete remembered. “You can ask one question. The children will answer. Their answers cannot be disputed or argued over. You may not ask another question.” He paused, staring out at the silent massing of people with unfocused eyes. “That’s it, then.” With a limp gesture,he passed the microphone to Philip and slumped offstage.
    “This is great,” Jack said against her ear. “When do you think they’re going to start falling on the ground and jabbering at snakes?”
    “Be quiet,” Pete snapped, not even pretending to indulge him. You didn’t even have to be observant to sense the wrongness. It was like watching a parade of mental patients try to convince you they were perfectlysane and really did hear space aliens transmitting in their fillings. They might have the right words and gestures, but something would be slightly blurred, slightly wrong.
    “All right,” said Philip Smythe. “Those of you who’ve been here before, welcome back. Consider letting some new folks take a turn at the front. Also, consider pitching something in the bucket when it comes around, yeah? We’rerunning on your gas.”
    “Bring on the kids!” someone shouted, and Philip glared into the crowd.
    “You put that tongue back in your head. This isn’t a carnival sideshow.”
    “Could have fooled me,” Jack grumbled.
    “Be quiet and be fuckin’ respectful,” Philip continued. “This isn’t a trick. This is a gift to us all.” He gestured to the back of the stage, where thick plastic hung as a makeshift curtain.“Welcome the kids, please.”
    As they came out, all Pete could do was stare. Margaret sat as far as she could from the others, folding in on herself. Bridget Killigan came forth, walking as if she were moving underwater, arms spread in front of her. Philip took her arm and guided her to her seat. “There, luv,” he said.
    Pete’s mouth opened, and her air grew short. Bridget Killigan couldn’t walk.She couldn’t do anything. She was blind and catatonic, a victim of Algernon Treadwell’s hungry ghost. He’d drained everything that made her Bridget and left a shell, but he hadn’t filled it. He hadn’t been after a body, just her strength. Jack had been Treadwell’s end goal, and Pete had stopped him, but she hadn’t been fast enough. He’d taken three children, three children who should not be upand walking around.
    Diana Leroy and Patrick Dumbershall walked out together, clutching hands. Patrick, who still had one eye that wasn’t completely clouded with cataracts, helped her into her seat before feeling his way to his own.
    Jack leaned down and pressed his lips into her hair. “Do you have any idea what the hell is going on?”
    “Less than none,” Pete said. She was almost afraid to keepwatching, but any outburst now would just draw attention, and she didn’t think the rapt crowd would take too kindly to that. Self-proclaimed pacifists were the first ones to start throwing rocks at the riot police, that much she knew.
    A pudgy woman with purple ribbons woven through her hair and a skirt swirling around her ample bottom stepped up, and Philip hopped off the stage, presenting herthe mic. “Go ahead. Ask one question.”
    The woman focused on the four children. Margaret dropped her gaze, foot kicking at the wood, but the other three stared serenely ahead, white gazes unblinking.
    “Will I ever find someone to love me?” the woman asked, her voice wavering.
    “Hey, now,” Philip said. “Before we hear the answer, let’s give this sweet lady a round of applause for being so brave.”

    The crowd set up an earnest clapping that made Pete want to kick every one of them in the shins.
    Bridget Killigan traced her hand against the air. “I see a man, but he will be taken from you before love blossoms. You will remember him, when you are alone.”
    The woman stared for a moment, and then bowed her head. “Thank you. I know you speak the truth.” She crumpled a fiver in her fist and shovedit at Philip before pushing through the crowd and disappearing.
    Pete reexamined the whole setup. The tent, the crowd of adoring followers, the patter from Philip … it was a confidence scam, but that didn’t explain how the children were up and talking. Faith healers relied on spectacle and giving people what they wanted, and Bridget’s