Lockwood & Co.: The Screaming Staircase

anaesthetic, leaving his skin loose and saggy beneath the eyes. These eyes, however, were shrewd and keen.
    Lockwood rose stiffly, gave him a cordial enough greeting and ushered him to a seat. George removed the ghost-jar to the sideboard and concealed it under the spotted veil. I went to make some tea.
    When I got back, Barnes was sitting in the middle of the sofa, still wearing his coat and hat, his hands flat on wide-spaced knees. It was a posture that managed to be both domineering and awkward at the same time. He was staring at the collection of artefacts on the wall.
    ‘Most people,’ he was saying in a somewhat nasal voice, ‘make do with landscapes or rows of ducks. This stuff can’t be hygienic. What’s that moth-eaten thing?’
    ‘Tibetan spirit-pole,’ Lockwood said. ‘At least a hundred years old. My guess is that the lamas somehow directed roaming ghosts into those hollow metal globes hanging between the flags. Clever of you to pick it out, Mr Barnes; it’s one of the best pieces in my collection.’
    The inspector snorted into his moustache. ‘Looks more like foreign mumbo-jumbo, if you ask me . . .’ He pulled his gaze round to meet with ours. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m pleased to see you’re both in such good shape. Surprised too. When I saw you in the garden last night, I thought you’d be in hospital for a week.’ There was just enough ambiguity in his tone to make me wonder if he’d perhaps hoped for this outcome as well.
    Lockwood made a regretful gesture. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’table to stay and help out,’ he said. ‘I wanted to, but the doctors were insistent.’
    ‘Oh, you couldn’t have done anything,’ Barnes said. ‘You’d just have got in the way. It was a heroic effort by the fire-fighters and agents who fought the blaze. They managed to save the bulk of the house. But the upper floor is a complete write-off, thanks to you.’
    Lockwood nodded stiffly. ‘I’ve made my statement to your colleagues at the Yard.’
    ‘I know. And I’ve spoken with Mrs Hope, whose house you destroyed.’
    ‘Ah. And how’s she doing?’
    ‘She’s distraught, Mr Lockwood, as you might imagine. I couldn’t get much sense out of her. But she and her daughter are also very angry, and they’re demanding compensation. This my tea? Lovely.’ He took a cup.
    Lockwood’s face, already pale, grew paler. ‘I quite understand that they’re upset,’ he said, ‘but, speaking as professionals, accidents like this happen in our work. Lucy and I dealt with a dangerous Type Two which had killed before and was threatening our lives. Yes, the collateral damage was unfortunate, but I trust DEPRAC will support us in meeting any costs that—’
    ‘DEPRAC won’t help you with a penny of it,’ Barnes said, sipping his tea. ‘That’s why I’m here. I’ve already checked with my superiors, and they take the view that youdisregarded several basic safety procedures in your investigations at Sheen Road. Most crucially, you chose to engage with the Visitor without your iron chains: the fire was a direct result of that decision.’ The inspector wiped his moustache dry with the side of a finger. ‘As far as compensation goes, you’re on your own.’
    ‘But this is ridiculous,’ Lockwood said. ‘Surely we can—’
    ‘There’s no “we” about it!’ Barnes seemed suddenly irate. He got to his feet, brandishing the cup. ‘If you and Ms Carlyle had done the sensible thing – if you’d left the house when you’d first encountered the Visitor, if you’d returned with better equipment or’ – he glared round at us – ‘with better agents, that house would still be standing! It’s your fault, and I’m afraid I can’t help you. Which brings me to the real point.’ He took a packet from his coat pocket. ‘I’ve an envelope here from the Hope family solicitors. They’re demanding immediate settlement for the damage caused by the fire. The sum is sixty thousand pounds. You’ve four weeks to pay up, or they’ll launch court proceedings against you.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I hope you’re as well off as you seem to be, Mr Lockwood, because I can assure you that if you fail to meet this obligation, DEPRAC will have to wind your agency up, shut Lockwood and Co. down.’
    Nobody moved. Lockwood and I sat as if we’d both been ghost-locked. Slowly, George took off his glasses and wiped them on his jumper.
    Now that he’d given us that fatal news, Inspector Barnes seemed restless