Free Darkroom by Graham Masterton Page B

liniment. He knelt down and carefully draped it over Tibbles, and this time she didn’t seem to mind at all. She didn’t even protest when he bundled it right around her, picked her up and laid her gently on the couch. He didn’t quite know what you were supposed to do when a cat went into shock, but he guessed that keeping her warm was pretty much top priority.
    â€˜Just relax, TT. Your fur will grow back before you know it.’
    Tibbles looked up at him as if she wouldn’t trust a human as far as she could throw him.
    When he was sure that Tibbles was settled, Jim turned his attention back to the painting. He couldn’t lift it, so he gradually dragged it across the living room and into the lobby. He stumbled over the shoes, and gave them a furious kick. After he disposed of this painting, the next thing he was going to get rid of was Vinnie’s uncle’s stinky old collection of footwear.
    Sweating and swearing, he managed to open the door and maneuver the painting into the corridor. There, panting, and nursing a badly bruised elbow, he leaned it up against the wall. If anybody stole it, too bad. In fact, they would be doing him a favor.
    He was just about to go back into his apartment when the door opposite opened and a young woman stepped out. She was tall, with long, glossy black hair, cut very straight and severe, and she was wearing a tight black sleeveless sweater with silver sequins in it, and black slacks, and very high black strappy sandals. She had a squarish face, with arched eyebrows and deep-set eyes. Jim’s first impression was: Lady Vampire.
    â€˜Hi,’ she drawled.
    â€˜Hi.’
    She double-locked her door, then looked at the painting leaning against the wall. ‘You can’t leave that there.’
    â€˜I’m taking it down to the auction house tomorrow. I just moved in.’ He wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out. ‘Jim Rook.’
    She ignored his hand and said, ‘Glad to know you. Eleanor Shine. But you still can’t leave that there. Fire regulations.’
    â€˜It’ll be gone by tomorrow morning.’
    â€˜And what happens if the building catches ablaze tonight? Which it’s not going to, I know. But we can’t have anarchy, can we – everybody doing whatever they damn well please. Next thing we know, people will be throwing champagne parties in the elevators, and keeping pet lions.’
    â€˜You think so?’
    â€˜I
know
so. I know people better than they know themselves.’
    â€˜Well …’ said Jim, looking at the painting. With each passing moment, he had become increasingly aware of Eleanor Shine’s perfume. It was like lilies, combined with a fear of heights.
    â€˜I’d help you carry it,’ she smiled. ‘But my nails …’
    â€˜Sure. Don’t worry about it. I dragged it out here; I can drag it back in.’
    He lifted the painting away from the wall. She peered over so that she could see it. She stared at it for a very long time, one hand lifted to hold her gleaming black hair away from her face. At last, she looked up at Jim and she was frowning.
    â€˜What a strange picture.’
    â€˜It is, isn’t it? It doesn’t belong to me. It came with the apartment. The label says it’s of some daguerrotypist.’
    â€˜Some what?’
    â€˜Daguerrotypist. A daguerrotype was a kind of photographic plate they used before camera-film, and a daguerrotypist was … well, somebody who took daguerrotypes.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Pause. ‘Why is he wearing that cloth over his head?’
    â€˜He’s supposed to be in mourning.’
    As Jim shifted the frame around, Eleanor Shine followed him, and examined the painting even more intently. ‘My God,’ she said. ‘Wait a minute … Can you keep it still, please? This is
very
unusual indeed.’
    â€˜Something wrong?’
    She held out her hand, almost touching the surface of