I Know Who Did It (A Jack Nightingale Short Story) Read Online Free PDF Page A

while Mrs Steadman ushered him through
the curtain into a small room where a gas fire was burning, casting flickering
shadows across the walls.
    As Nightingale sat at a circular wooden
table under a brightly-coloured Tiffany lampshade, she
went over to a kettle on top of a pale green refrigerator and switched it on.
She looked at him over her shoulder. ‘Milk and no sugar,’ she said.
    ‘ Perfect.’
    ‘ So how can I help you, Mr Nightingale,’ she said as she spooned PG
Tips into a brown ceramic teapot. ‘I’m assuming this isn’t just a social
visit.’
    ‘ I do love your tea,’ he said. ‘But yes, I could do with some
advice.’ Nightingale took the drawing of the magic circle from his pocket and
spread it out on the table. ‘Have you seen something like this before?’
    Mrs Steadman walked over and frowned down
at the drawing. ‘Now where did you get that from?’ she asked.
    ‘ It was done in a school,’ said Nightingale. ‘A boarding school.’
    ‘ Oh dear,’ sighed Mrs Steadman. ‘Dear, dear, dear.’
    ‘ What does it mean?’
    ‘ Nothing good, Mr Nightingale,’ she said. ‘Nothing good.’
    She went back to the kettle and stood with
her back to him, her shoulders hunched. When the kettle had boiled she poured
water into the teapot and carried it over to the table on a tray with two blue
and white striped mugs and a matching milk jug and sugar bowl. She sat down and
poured tea for him, then added milk. Only when she had handed him his tea did
she speak. ‘Mr Nightingale,
you really shouldn’t be messing with things like this.’ She nodded at the
paper. ‘And please, put that away.’
    Nightingale
picked up the paper, folded it, and put it back in his pocket.
    ‘What does it
mean, Mrs Steadman?’
    ‘Just walk away
from this, please.’
    ‘You know what it
is, don’t you?’
    ‘So do you. It’s
a pentagram.’
    ‘But it’s
special, isn’t it. I’ve never seen those markings before.’
    ‘They’re…special.’
She shuddered.
    ‘Special in what
way?’
    ‘Why do you want
to know, Mr Nightingale.’
    ‘A young girl was
found dead by one of these circles.’
    ‘Inside or
outside?’ asked Mrs Steadman quickly.
    ‘Outside.’
    Mrs Steadman
winced as if she had been struck.
    ‘Please, I need
to know what the significance is.’
    ‘Of the girl? Or
the circle.’
    Nightingale
frowned. ‘Both, I guess.’
    Mrs Steadman took
a deep breath, then poured herself more tea. ‘The circle is used to summon
Paimonia, one of the kings of Hell.’ She pointed at one of the symbols. ‘This
is his sigil. His symbol. He is a demon of the first rank with two hundred
legions of followers and really, you don’t want to have anything to do with
him. He is powerful, Mr Nightingale. Really powerful.’
    ‘I just need
information, Mrs Steadman. I’m not planning on summoning him.’
    She stared at him
with her bird-like eyes. ‘I do hope that’s the truth,’ she said eventually.
‘Paimonia is different to most of the demons in that doing a deal with him
requires a sacrifice.’
    ‘A human
sacrifice?’
    Mrs Steadman
nodded. ‘Generally a deal can be struck with a demon once summoned. A quid pro
quo. But Paimonia requires more. And because of what he offers, many are prepared
to make the sacrifices that are required.’
    ‘What does he
offer?’
    ‘Eternal life, Mr
Nightingale. ‘Or as close to eternal as is possible.’
    ‘You can live for
ever?’
    ‘At a price, Mr
Nightingale. At a terrible price.’
    Nightingale
sipped his tea and waited for her to continue.
    ‘Demons are
devious, as you know. Paimonia is more devious than most. He offers you
immortality, but demands a sacrifice. That sacrifice means that only the most
committed move forward. Which is when the rest of the deal is made clear. The
sacrifice is not a one-off. It has to be repeated. If it isn’t repeated, the
immortality is lost.’
    ‘So the person
has to keep on killing?’
    ‘Not necessarily
doing the actual