Avoiding the source of the music, we veered left, following a drab beige corridor round a corner and into an enormous room stacked full of urns and boxes. Suddenly I was glad that Brutus had chosen to stay sleeping in the taxi rather than come with us. He’d never struck me as the kind of cat who would enjoy picking out his own urn, although no doubt if he did he’d demand the top-of-the-range, gold-plated version just to enjoy emptying my bank account. In reality, when it was time to use the thing, he’d be dead and he wouldn’t care what kind of vessel his remains ended up in. Of all the things the ghosts had complained about, none of them had mentioned being irritated by their physical holding arrangements.
Turning around again, Winter headed for a closed door halfway back down the corridor. The difference as we entered this new area was marked: these walls weren’t a dull, dirty colour but a calming light purple. There were three small offices to the right, none of which were locked. Winter stepped into the first one and lifted a photo frame from the small wooden desk. He glanced at it, returned it to its place then shook his head.
I headed into the second office. There weren’t any helpful family photographs in this one but there was the lingering scent of heavy perfume. Unless Blackbeard had a penchant for sickly florals with lilac undertones, this room had nothing to do with him either.
Winter checked the final room, exiting almost as quickly as he entered with a gruff, albeit muted, denial. If Blackbeard did work here, he didn’t have anything to do with the management team.
We headed towards the front and the deserted reception area. The name tag on the desk was for an Alison Hibbert. No luck there, then. We continued, popping into family rooms no doubt designed for heartbroken pet owners to wait in. Apart from tastefully placed fake flowers, and leaflets to help people through the grieving process, there was nothing here. Maybe instinct didn’t count for much after all.
Winter beckoned me over. ‘There’s nothing here that’s of any use,’ he whispered.
I nodded. ‘We should look for filing cabinets and personnel files. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there’ll be photographs of the employees.’
‘As a last resort, we’ll have to confront whoever is still here playing that music in the back. But until we know more about who Blackbeard is and who his friends are, I don’t really want to do that.’
I gave him a sloppy salute. He was used to this kind of gig and knew what he was doing. ‘Maybe we should search the smaller outbuildings,’ I suggested. With any luck, we’d bypass the furnaces. The thought of them gave me the creeps.
We went back the way we’d come, taking as much care to stay quiet and remain unobtrusive as we could. The music now had a more muffled quality, as if the sound had been turned down. Relaxing a little, I picked up my feet and moved a faster. That was my first mistake.
Slightly ahead of Winter, I turned the corner towards the back door entrance and froze. Silhouetted against the darkening sky was a large man, standing at the threshold and smoking. I barely had a second to take him in before I pulled back and grabbed Winter’s arm, gesturing frantically. Because of the light and the fact that he’d been turned away I hadn’t seen the man’s face clearly – but there was definitely a shiny bald head and a bushy black beard.
Winter’s eyes darkened to a stormy blue and he dipped his head forward to look. Almost immediately he drew back in, his features and his body tense. We shared a glance of grim determination – coupled with a tiny edge of satisfaction. Although I’d felt the same as Winter and my gut had been telling me that Blackbeard’s trail would lead here, I hadn’t expected to find the man himself.
Winter tugged at my sleeve, pulling me further back into the main building. He didn’t speak until we were out of earshot. ‘He’s wearing a uniform,’ he whispered so quietly that I had to strain to hear. ‘He must be a security guard.’
I agreed. ‘And on the night shift, no less.’ It was perfect – if you wanted to secretly cremate bodies without being observed. ‘How do we do this? We can’t use magic against him because it won’t work. And if he’s a security guard, he’s probably armed.’ Not with a gun – this was middle England, after all – but there was a chance he had a Taser or a knife. Even a baton used by someone who knew what they were doing could cause us problems. Hell, for all we knew he could have a bloody submachine gun with him. It was unlikely, but nothing was impossible where Blackbeard was concerned. Besides, I was a plump woman of less than average height and rather dubious fitness. Winter, naturally, was in a better position to attack Blackbeard without a spell to back him up but even he would find it tough. The man was built like an oak tree.
‘You stay here,’ Winter said. ‘Call the police, the Ipsissimus and whoever you can get hold of at Arcane Branch. Tell them to advance here on the double. I’ll make sure Blackbeard doesn’t get away.’
‘You’re fit, Winter, but he has to be twice your size.’
‘I can do this.’
He was an idiot. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I don’t think you can. Look, just because we can’t use magic directly against him doesn’t mean we can’t use magic around him.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We could weaken the building’s foundations to the point of collapse. I know a few spells for that. We bring several tonnes of concrete down onto his head, then he’ll stop moving. He’ll be as flat as a pancake.’
Winter nodded gravely, as if he were taking my suggestion seriously. ‘There’s just one tiny problem with that scenario, Ivy.’ He waved a hand. ‘We’re inside the same building and the only way out is the exit where Blackbeard is standing.’
Ah. Okay. I could concede that point. ‘Fine. But there must be a way.’
‘Well, I suppose we could—’
‘Who the fuck are you?’
Winter and I sprang backwards in shock. Then, without thinking, I let out a war cry and ran headfirst towards Blackbeard. My head smacked into his not-inconsiderable belly and he let out a loud oomph of surprise. He reached down, grabbed a hank of my hair and dragged me upwards. It felt like my scalp was being ripped out. I shrieked in pain and writhed, trying to kick my way to freedom. My feet connected with solid flesh several times but Blackbeard wasn’t letting go of my hair for anything.
While I swung ineffectually round like a doll being held by a giant, Winter leapt towards the pair of us with his fists raised. Blackbeard let out a guttural, inarticulate yell of rage, confusion and fear. The sound reverberated round my skull while I stared dumbly at his face. Arse. Double arse. Triple arse. Arsing hell with an arsing cherry on top for effort. This was very bad.
Unfortunately, before I got the chance to say or do anything, he flung me to the side so he was free to face Winter’s onslaught. I both felt and heard my head crack against the concrete wall. Pain shot through my body, rippling through me in waves that made it difficult to think coherently. I was dimly aware of Winter letting out a howl of rage of his own. I opened my mouth to speak but all that came out was a strange grunt. Blinking several times, I tried to focus but it was no good. My vision was blurred and two Winters and two bearded men were hovering and wobbling in front of me.
Winter threw the first punch, slamming into Blackbeard’s face. His jowls juddered and blood spurted out from his nose, splattering onto the floor in front of me.