Haunted Shadows 1: Sickness Behind Young Eyes Read Online Free PDF

pestering him for a
story.
     
    “So what next?” I asked.
     
    “Town hall’s open. We’ll go check the
census.”
     
    It was only a short walk to the town
hall, but it was made longer by the difficulty I had in keeping what the
caretaker had said from Jeremiah. I knew he wanted to know, but he was putting
on such an air of indifference that I almost doubted it. And now I found myself
wanting to tell him, wanting him to ask. I realised it was because I wanted to
prove myself to him, to this fifty year old lonely man who didn’t care enough
about himself to stay in shape. I realised I had a respect for him.
     
    “Don’t you want to know what the
caretaker said to me?”
     
    “Not particularly.”
     
    “Well he said that they haven’t had
any deaths like the kind we’re looking for.”
     
    Jeremiah didn’t show anything on his
face but his eyes seemed to stare passed the town hall and over the hills, to
wherever he did his thinking. I stupidly felt a small pleasure in giving him
information that made him think.
     
    The town hall resembled more of a
school assembly than an official office. There were a couple of cramped offices
hidden away through doors at the side, but the main part of the building was a
large space with wooden tread boards and cheap plastic chairs arranged in rows.
These pointed at a stage, on top of which was a piano. I guessed that the town
hall doubled as a place for official business and one that was hired out for
village plays and social club meetings.
     
    The official that met us was called
Murray. He didn’t offer a hand shake. Instead he talked to us as he guided us
through to his office. His eyes were intense and they darted everywhere, and
his body seemed to pull in all different directions, as though he needed to be
in a hundred places at once. He wore green felt pants, and a white shirt with
the sleeves folded up to his elbows. His short hair and moustache were ginger,
though not quite the deep red of Jeremiah’s.
     
    Inside his office he offered Jeremiah
a seat. There was only one, so I stood. There was no point waiting for Jeremiah
to offer me his.
     
    “I’d offer you a cup of tea but I
haven’t even had chance to pick up the milk.”
     
    “You should have said, we could have
brought it in for you,” I said.
     
    Jeremiah shot me a look that said I’d
just be a listener in this meeting.
     
    “I’ll keep it short,” said Jeremiah.
“We want to check the births and deaths register.”
     
    Murray’s eyebrows tightened.
     
    “Something wrong?” he said.
     
    “It’s for research. I’m a professor
in Manchester, and Ella here is one of my students.”
     
    Murray cleared a tiny portion of the
corner of his desk and sat on it.
     
    “Are professors in the habit of going
on trips to Scotland with their students?” He said.
     
    Jeremiah ignored the remark. “The
census is public record, and I want to see it.” There was a tone of authority
to his voice, a sense that he’d get what he wanted.
     
    Murray sighed. He rolled up his left
sleeve an inch further above his elbow, revealing part of a skinny pale bicep.
He rubbed his index finger back and forth across his moustache. Ginger hair
curled over his top lip.
     
    “I guess I can dig it out” he said.
     
    We waited in Murray’s office while he
fetched the file. I took his place at the corner of his desk and drummed my
fingers up and down the wood. Jeremiah sat with his legs crossed and his right
cheek propped up on his elbow.
     
    “What an arse” I said.
     
    Jeremiah looked at me but didn’t say
anything or change position.
     
    “He really couldn’t be arsed helping
us, and he didn’t even bother to hide it. Hate people like that. Tosser.”
     
    Jeremiah straightened up.
     
    “That’s something you’ll have to get
used to, because it doesn’t change. Go anywhere in the world and you’ll find
people who don’t like their jobs, don’t feel they should have to help you. The
trick is to