Infernal

3

-68:42

Jack called ahead to see if Lyle and Charlie Kenton were entertaining any clients at the moment. Nope. Didn't he remember that Monday was their day of rest? No seances scheduled until midafternoon Tuesday.

So he grabbed the empty sea chest from his apartment and drove out to Menelaus Manor in Astoria. He wished he could have brought the Lilitongue along too, but since that was fixed in its spot, and since Charlie couldn't leave his house, the chest would have to do.

He parked in front of the attached garage. Hadn't been back since the summer. With its dark stone walls and vaguely colonial design, the house could look menacing at night. But in the wan light from an overcast sky, it looked merely old.

Lyle met him at the door and, after making nice-nice with the handshake and small talk and why-don't-you-ever-come-to-visit preliminaries, they settled in the high-ceilinged channeling room on the first floor.

The array of spiritualist and New Age junk displayed around the room among the statues of everything from Christian saints to Hindu gods brought back memories, not all of them pleasant. The heavy drapes, usually drawn tight, had been pulled back to let in some light.

Lyle, tall, lean, black, maybe thirty, wore his hair in long, tight dreads. He was dressed in jeans and a V-neck sweater. He led Jack to the large round oak table at the far end. Lyle seated himself at the twelve-o'clock spot, directly in front of a chalk-smeared blackboard; Jack took the three-o'clock position.

Letters began to form in the chalk dust on the board, one at a time, as if written by an invisible finger.