The Minister felt as if he’d bumped into a hornets’ nest and for his pains (or by them) was being driven off course, which he really couldn’t afford to let happen. He held up his hands, took on a harder, more authoritative tone of voice. ‘For God’s sake, put your feuding and personal feelings aside!’ he cried. ‘At least for the moment, or for as long as it takes. Whatever else any one of you is or isn’t, there’s one thing we can at least be sure of: you’re all human!’
Which hit them like a truck.
Seeing that he now had their attention, and while he retained the upper hand, the Minister turned pleadingly to Ben Trask. ‘Mr Trask – but level-headed, if you please – will you repeat what you told me downstairs?’
Trask looked at him grudgingly but nodded. ‘Only first let me finish telling them what you started. They already know most of it and have probably guessed the rest, so I’ll get straight to it. And it just might come easier if they hear it from me.’
‘Very well,’ the Minister replied, sighing his relief.
And Trask began:
‘Zek Föener gave us a helping hand in the Greek islands,’ he said. ‘You’ll know who she is from the Keogh files, what happened at Perchorsk and on Starside, etc. She’s a powerful telepath, one of the world’s best. But like the Necroscope himself she’s opted out of cloak and daggery.
‘Anyway, it was dodgy out there in the Med. We were killing vampires, and there were plenty of times when they nearly killed us. But Harry took the brunt of it and went up against the Big One, Janos Ferenczy himself -and I know I don’t have to tell you about the Ferenczys. When Harry was in Romania that last time, just before the end, Zek tried to get in touch with him to see how things were going. But telepathy over great distances isn’t easy and she didn’t get too much. At least that’s what she told us, but we could see that what she did get shocked her rigid.
‘I know Darcy Clarke has been worried stiff about it, for the fact is Darcy thinks the Necroscope’s the best thing since sliced bread. I know several of you also think so, and, hell, so do I! Or I used to …
‘So … we did the job and came back, and as far as we know Harry was successful, too. It seems he made a great job of it. Except he’s been a bit cagey about what actually happened up in the Carpathians. Now me, I haven’t read too much into that. Nor has Darcy Clarke. For after all, Harry did lose Sandra Markham out there. So Darcy was going to let him get it off his chest in his own good time.
‘For which – or so it would seem – Darcy’s been sort of “reduced to the ranks”, de-commissioned, bust, etc. But for what, that’s what I’d like to know? For inefficiency, in that he maybe didn’t want to prejudge an old friend? For holding back awhile and not going off half-cocked? For having – shit – just a little faith!?’
Both the Minister and Paxton opened their mouths as if to butt in, but Trask cut them out with: The thing you have to remember about Darcy Clarke is this: that his talent doesn’t go sneaking into other people’s minds, eavesdropping or spying from a distance. All it does is look after Darcy. But he’s kept in touch with the Necroscope and so far there’s nothing to report. Darcy’s talent didn’t warn him of any immediate danger. If it had . . . you can bet your life he’d have been the first to yell! The last thing he’d want is for another Yulian Bodescu to be out and about!’ ‘But – ‘ Paxton started.
‘Shut your face!’ Trask told him. ‘These people are still listening to someone telling the truth! Only the truth . . .’ And he eventually continued: ‘Anyway, that was all yesterday and today is today. And now things seem to have changed . . .’ He paused and looked at the Minister. ‘Did you want to take it from there, sir?’