Nightmare by Stephen Leather Page A

‘But I get the feeling that you didn’t come all this way just to give me some books. As much as I do appreciate the gift.’
    Nightingale felt his cheeks redden, as though he was a naughty schoolboy who had been caught out in a lie. ‘I need some advice, Mrs Steadman.’
    She sipped her tea. ‘So it’s not just a social visit?’ She giggled girlishly. ‘I’m only teasing you, Mr Nightingale. ‘Of course I’ll help you in any way that I can.’
    Nightingale stretched out his legs and stared at his Hush Puppies, still flecked from the rain outside. ‘Can you tell me how I can talk to the dead?’
    Mrs Steadman shook her head sorrowfully. ‘There you go again, Mr Nightingale, wanting to mess with things that you really shouldn’t be messing with.’
    ‘It’s important, Mrs Steadman.’
    ‘I’m sure that it is. But it’s a very dangerous area.’
    ‘It is possible, though?’
    She sipped her tea again. ‘You know that you can use Tarot cards, don’t you?’
    Nightingale raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought they were for telling fortunes?’
    ‘Oh they do that, of course, but in the hands of an expert they can be used for so much more.’
    ‘But you’re not really talking to the dead, are you? You’re getting messages through the cards.’
    ‘That’s true. But often the dead find it easier to communicate that way. And it can be safer.’
    ‘Because ghosts are dangerous?’
    ‘You’re confusing spirits with ghosts, Mr Nightingale.’ She frowned as if she was getting the beginnings of a headache. ‘Really, I must counsel you to be careful, Mr Nightingale. You’re very much an innocent abroad, you know. And it can be dangerous to meddle with things that you don’t fully understand.’
    ‘I keep telling people that I’m on a pretty steep learning curve,’ said Nightingale. ‘But I’m going to need more than Tarot cards.’
    Mrs Steadman poured more tea into her mug. ‘There are Ouija boards, but frankly they’re unreliable and dangerous.’
    Nightingale chuckled. ‘Been there, done that,’ he said.
    Mrs Steadman put down the teapot. ‘You tried?’
    ‘A couple of times.’
    ‘With whom?’
    ‘My assistant. It didn’t work out so well.’
    ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said. ‘Who were you trying to contact?’
    ‘My former partner. Robbie Hoyle.’
    ‘How did Mr Hoyle pass away?’
    ‘RTA,’ said Nightingale. He saw the look of confusion on the woman’s face and waved his hand in apology. ‘Sorry, police-speak,’ he said. ‘Road traffic accident. He was hit by a taxi while he was crossing the road.’
    Mrs Steadman sighed. ‘In a violent unexpected death, any spirit is going to be confused and disorientated,’ she said. ‘And that’s all you’d get through a Ouija board. Confusion. Anger. Resentment. Even an expert would have trouble controlling such a spirit.’
    ‘It was a bit hairy,’ admitted Nightingale.
    ‘And is it this Robbie Hoyle that you want to contact?’
    Nightingale shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s a girl. A girl who killed herself.’
    Mrs Steadman pursed her lips and looked down her nose at him. ‘Another violent end,’ she said. ‘You have to be very careful interacting with spirits who pass over with violence,’ she said. ‘Often times the spirits aren’t even aware of the situation they’re in until someone contacts them, and there can be all sorts of repercussions.’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘That depends on the strength of the spirit concerned,’ said Mrs Steadman. ‘But you could have objects being moved, flashes of light, flames, even – or worse.’
    ‘Like a poltergeist?’
    ‘Like a poltergeist, perhaps, but a poltergeist is something different. And the potential for damage isn’t only there for the one who does the summoning. It can be dangerous for the spirit.’
    Nightingale frowned and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m confused,’ he said.
    ‘I’m sure you are,’ said Mrs Steadman. ‘Tell me more about this