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“These are the rooms without video surveillance,” Tom said, as he opened a set of double doors onto a large, dark space. “There are motion sensors active during the day, but I think Emory would like something more robust. These are his private rooms. He won’t have cameras, but he really doesn’t want anyone getting in here…ever.”
The doors shut behind them, and they were plunged into darkness. The air smelled of dry dust and old pages. Tom tapped a command into a glowing keypad and several lamps flickered to life, filling the space with warm light.
The walls were covered with shelves, all stuffed with books. They were of every conceivable color, bound in leather, wood, paper and everything in between. There were foreign titles, English titles and many without any identifying mark at all.
“Whoa,” Jesse said. “That’s a lot of books.”
Tom chuckled. “Emory’s been collecting for quite some time.”
“No shit,” Jesse said, wandering to a shelf entirely dedicated to horror writers. “First-editionDracula. Figures.” Jesse looked around again. “Huh. No windows.”
“No windows.”
“Well, that’s one less way to break in,” Jesse said, examining the blinking motion detectors in the corners. “You need better sensors and more of them—floor as well as ceiling, wired into their own network. You should set alarms on the cases, too. Guessing these ones are valuable?” he said, gesturing at a display case containing a tome laid out on velvet, ablaze with colored illuminations.
“Scarily valuable,” Tom replied.
“Who has the deactivation codes?”
“Me, Greenway and Filip. And you, if you join us, obviously.”
“How often are the codes changed?”
Tom put his hands in his pockets and frowned. “Kingston wasn’t one for changing the codes. It meant re-programming the system each time.”
“That takes minutes,” Jesse said, running his hand over the back of a deep, worn leather armchair that looked like it had provided comfort to someone for decades. “Less, if you upgrade the system. I could write an algorithm to do it for you. But the codes should change every week.”
“You’re the boss.” Jesse blinked. Tom was smiling again. He gestured to the inner doors. “Shall we?”
Jesse followed Tom into a study, again high-ceilinged and windowless. A large, cozy suite was arranged around a large marble fireplace. The fire leapt into life when Tom tapped a code into another keypad. It flooded the room with warmth. In this room, too, the furniture was old …more worn. The sofas were laden with cushions. The boat-sized desk was dotted with pen holders, strange ornaments and a carved Chinese lamp with a jade-green shade.
It was still clearly expensive stuff, but more real…homey. This felt like a sanctuary, walled away from the world. Jesse was shocked by the strength of his desire to stay, to sit in front of the fire and gaze into it, forget everything else and just listen to the warm silence. But Tom was already moving to the next door.
The smell of chlorine flooded Jesse’s senses as they stepped through. This room did have windows—windows that made up three of the four walls. Tom pressed a control and the blackout blinds lifted with a gentle hum, revealing the snowbound vista of Askham Moor, stained apricot by the setting sun. Potted tropical plants wreathed the air with a heady smell. The pool at their feet was large and deep, the water crystalline blue.
“Who knew haemophiles liked to swim?” Jesse murmured as he skirted the pool, examining the motion detectors in the ceiling.
“They like lots of things,” Tom said in a low voice. “They’re a lot like us in some ways—and really not in others.”
Jesse looked back. Tom had a distant, thoughtful look on his face.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Since Emory moved in. About a year? But I was with him in Vienna before that. We were there for about five years.”
“Vienna? Nice.”
“It was”—Tom’s smile was a little brittle—“until it wasn’t. So, are we done here?”
“Unless you want to go for a swim,” Jesse ventured after a pause.
Tom’s cheeks reddened, but he glanced out at the setting sun and smiled apologetically. “We’re a little late tonight. How about seeing your room?”
Jesse blinked. “Does he really want me to move in?”
“That’s the deal, I’m afraid.”
Jesse looked around the pool room then at the tall, handsome Tom. He smiled. “Guess I could get used to it.”
