The Kiera Hudson Prequels 2 by Tim O'Rourke Page A

head and opened his mouth, but before he’d had a chance to say anything, the man started to talk again. “No? Ah, well. I’ve heard this Mr. Derren Splitfoot is meant to be rather good. Some say sensational. I’ve heard rumours that his spirit guide – a little girl named Alice – actually talks, and some say they’ve even seen her. I hope the rumours are true.”
    “ Why?” I asked as the man paused to take a breath.
    “ Because I’m hoping she will be able to make a connection with my dear wife. Susan loved children. Never had any of our own. Susan sadly died before that happened.”
    “ I’m sorry to hear that,” Tom said.
    “ Kevin Barker,” the man said, holding out his hand.
    “ Tom Henson,” Tom said, taking his hand and shaking it. “And this is my friend, Kiera Hudson.”
    Nice one, Tom , I thought. Now the stooge knows our names. Kevin Barker, if that was his real name, was obviously the stooge. He would now start asking us questions and feed the answers back to Mr. Splitfoot. God, it was all so easy.
    “ Pleased to meet you,” the stooge said, taking hold of my hand.
    I smiled. Now what could I see about this man. I could see plenty. I saw the splashes of water first on his sleeve.
    “ Your sleeve is splashed with water,” I said, taking my hand away.
    Barker looked at it. Drops of water glistened up his right sleeve. “Rain,” he said, looking at me. “It just never stops.”
    “ I know; it’s awful,” I said, playing along. There was so much more I could see, but I would save that for later.
    “ So who are you hoping to connect with tonight?” Barker asked us.
    “ No one special. What do you do as a living?” I asked, changing the subject completely.
    Barker’s eyes narrowed. The question seemed to take him off guard in some way. “I’m a jeweller,” he said. “I have my own shop in Chesterfield.”
    “ Do you have a business card?” I asked. I doubted if Barker was really a jeweller. He was really employed as Splitfoot’s accomplice.
    “ Why do you want my business card?” he asked.
    “ I was hoping you might be able to give Tom discount when he comes looking for a ring in the near future.” I looked at Tom coyly and fluttered my long eyelashes.
    Tom looked at me numbly. “A ring?”
    “ Oh, I see,” Barker smiled, reaching into his jacket pocket and looking at Tom. “Thinking of popping the question, are we? I do have a lovely range of engagement rings.” Barker held out a small white card. I took it from him.
    “ Engagement?” Tom said as I inspected the card.
    It looked genuine. So perhaps Barker really was a jeweller and moonlighted as the psychic’s stooge? I placed the card in my pocket.
    Barker looked at Tom. “So, are you hoping to connect with someone special tonight?”
    “ I don’t know anyone who’s dead,” Tom said, shrugging his shoulder.
    “ Then why are you here?” Barker asked, baffled.
    Before Tom had a chance to answer, a bell was jangled behind us. I looked back to see the bartender standing at the entrance to the passageway. He was holding a small brass bell in his hand.
    “ Those of you who are here for the séance, if you would like to follow me,” he said, turning and disappearing into the passageway.
    I looked at Tom and he looked back at me. Kevin Barker followed behind us as we made our way down the passage and toward the room where Derren Splitfoot awaited us. On my right I could see two doors fixed into the passageway wall. One had ladies written above it, and the other gentlemen . At the far end there was another door, which was open. The group of elderly men and women shuffled inside.
     
    Tom
     
    In the centre of the room there was a large round table. It was covered with a white cloth. The lights in the room had been switched off. The only light came from a candle positioned before a man sitting at the head of the table. This I guessed was Derren Splitfoot. Behind him was a closed window and rain beat against it. On