The Necroscope nodded. ‘I wondered about that. It’s a dead giveaway. By now Darcy’s espers must know what I am. Or if not he should fire the lot of them! So it looks like the talent Wellesley gave me is going to be redundant … or maybe not.’ And after a moment’s thought: ‘No definitely not. Wellesley’s thing is a total blanket: it doesn’t just make my mind unreadable but blanks it out entirely. The vampire thing is just mind-smog, like you said. But it makes me wonder: how come Paxton didn’t discover what was happening to me earlier? How was he able to get to me at all?’
‘It was only just starting then,’ Jordan answered. ‘Your vampire thing wasn’t fully developed. It still isn’t, but sufficiently so that it stopped me. I’ve tried to reach you half a dozen times this last couple of days but was only able to make it when you wanted to contact me. Oh, and something else. You mentioned Darcy Clarke, right? Well -‘
Suddenly he paused and held up a cautioning hand. ‘Wait!’ And in another moment: ‘Did you feel that?’
Harry shook his head.
‘A probe,’ said Jordan. ‘Someone trying to get in to me. The moment I relax, they’re there.’
Harry stepped toward Jordan and the large, curved windows, but held himself back a little in the shadows. ‘You said it was on your mind to get out of here. What did you mean?’
‘Only that I don’t know what’s on their minds,’ the other told him. ‘I mean, I know it can only be E-Branch out there, but I don’t know what they’re up to or what they’re planning. Do they know it’s me? That seems unlikely: what, that I’m back from the dead? But on the other hand, and from their point of view, who else can I be if I’m a telepath using Trevor Jordan’s flat? And this watch they’re keeping on me: it reminds me of that time we were covering Yulian Bodescu. I mean, who the hell do they think I am, Harry?’
Very slowly, Harry nodded. T begin to understand,’ he said. And he gripped Jordan’s elbow. ‘And you’re right: it’s exactly like that time they were covering Yulian Bodescu. Which means that it’s not so much a case of who they think you are but what they think you are!’
Jordan gasped. ‘You mean they think I’m . . .?’
‘It’s possible. You’re back from the dead, aren’t you?’
‘But I have no mind-smog.’
‘Neither did I, until recently.’
Again Jordan’s gasp. ‘They’re waiting to see how things develop before they move in! Which would explain just about everything. Certainly it would explain why I’m shit-scared of them! I’m picking up something of their suspicions, their intentions. I’m sensing the hunters hot on my track. Harry, they think – they suspect – that I’m a vampire!’
The Necroscope tried to calm him down. ‘But you’re not, and it’s easy to prove that you’re not. Also, Darcy Clarke’s in charge of E-Branch, and . . . what were you going to tell me about Darcy, anyway?’
Jordan came away from the window. Another look at Harry’s face convinced him the light would be better on. He tripped the switch on the wall, then sat down heavily. ‘Darcy’s at home,’ he said, ‘and very unhappy about something. He was the one I was supposed to be watching, remember? Because he’s the boss and would know which ways things are jumping. But now he seems to have been taken off the job. And while he isn’t a telepath himself, still somebody is throwing up a pretty good shield around him, making it hard to get anything.’
That felt ominous. Harry said, ‘Maybe we should go and see him. Maybe we should confront him, ask him straight out what’s going on. I’m pretty sure I know already – that the Branch is just waiting for me to put a foot wrong – but if we hear it from Darcy then we’ll know it for sure.’
Jordan shrugged. ‘At least it would get me out of here. I feel that if I don’t get out, then I’ll go nuts! God, I don’t like being watched and not know what they’re thinking.’