Free Haunted by James Herbert Page A

mischievous. If not, it’s likely to be someone with a personal grudge against the Church or even against you, yourself.’
    ‘I assume you’ve been told what has happened here.’
    Kate answered. ‘David likes to begin his investigations with as little prior knowledge of whatever the occurrences might be as possible.’
    ‘No preconceived ideas, you see,’ Ash explained. ‘But maybe this case could be an exception.’
    Kate eyed him in surprise.
    ‘It might save us a lot of time,’ he said directly to her.
    ‘Blood, Mr Ash.’
    Both returned their attention to the Rev Clemens.
    ‘Blood smeared on walls and statues. Holy vestments soaked with it. I arrived one morning to find the christening font filled with blood.’
    ‘Excrement anywhere?’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘People who break into churches with malicious intent like to defile them in the foulest ways possible. Excrement and urine are the easiest and most obvious means.’
    ‘No, nothing like that. Nothing as disgusting.’
    ‘Blood is pretty disgusting. Where are these vestments? We could get the blood analysed.’
    ‘I’m afraid I burnt them. I had no wish to be reminded of such sacrilege.’
    ‘Pity. What other violations?’
    ‘Two nights ago the dossal – that’s the curtain at the back of the altar – was set alight. It was fortunate that the whole church didn’t go up in flames.’
    The vicar led them up the centre aisle towards the nave, pointing at statues spaced along the side aisles as they went. ‘See how they’ve been broken, marked. I, myself, scrubbed them clean of the more obscene and diabolic disfigurations.’
    Ash was curious when he saw that the kneeling figure at the communion rail had gone. A stout pillar blocked his view, but he assumed there was another door just beyond. As they drew nearer to the altar he realized his assumption had been correct, for there was a deep yet narrow recess in the wall. A small side door was just inside.
    ‘The church organ has been battered beyond repair,’ the vicar was saying. He pointed up at the pulpit. ‘The carvings have been chipped, there are scratches in the wood that resemble claw marks. Look at this side door.’ He took them over to the recess Ash had already noticed. ‘It seems to have been attacked with an axe. It’s the same back there with the entrance door.’
    ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ said Ash.
    ‘Why should you? These marks are on the inside . They weren’t made by someone trying to gain entry, Mr Ash.’
    Ash frowned as he studied the smaller door.
    ‘And then there are the candles. More than once I’ve found every candle in the church alight or burned down when I’ve arrived for morning devotions.’
    ‘The vicarage is close by,’ said Kate. ‘Haven’t you heard or seen anything suspicious?’
    ‘Miss McCarrick, I’ve kept vigil through the night on several occasions, and nothing around St Mark’s has stirred. The only sound I’ve ever heard coming from here in the dead of night is the toll of a single bell. And I think you’ll agree, when I take you up into the bell tower, that none of this is the work of mortal hands.’
    The climb to the belfry left Ash breathless. Shaky too, for the last flight of stairs was of old wood and creaky with wear.
    ‘If you’ll wait one moment, I’ll find the light switch,’ said the cleric as he disappeared through a hatch into the bell room itself. ‘I’m afraid daylight isn’t too good up here.’
    When Ash and Kate climbed after him they saw why: the windows were slatted with angled wood, allowing only thin beams of light to penetrate. A single unshaded light bulb was mounted on a crossbeam.
    Ash pointed at the heavy bells which were mounted over holes in the floor. ‘I see what you mean. No bell ropes.’
    ‘No gongs, Mr Ash. They disappeared long before my time and no one locally appears to know how or why. And the wheels themselves have long since rusted solid. I’m afraid St Mark’s simply