Voices From Beyond (A Ghost Finders Novel) by Simon R. Green Page B

were back on their feet again and looking at him and Kim.
    “Nice trick, the two of you working together,” said Melody. “How long have you been able to do that?”
    “Not long,” said JC.
    “We were . . . experimenting,” Kim said lightly. “And we discovered we could do all sorts of things, together. It’s the closest we can come to touching.”
    “And you didn’t tell us about this before because?” said Melody.
    “Didn’t think it was any of your business,” JC said steadily. “We weren’t sure it had any practical value. Until now.”
    “We don’t keep secrets from each other!” said Melody.
    “Since when?” said JC.
    He looked at Happy, who nodded guiltily.
    “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry about that. I sort of . . . lost it, for a moment there.”
    “You could have got us all killed,” said JC.
    “I know!” said Happy. “But, please, JC. Not now, okay?”
    “We will talk about this,” said JC. “Later.”
    And then they all looked round sharply, at a babble of raised voices from the four returned students at the coffee table. They were all up on their feet, waving their hands around and shouting excitedly at each other. It quickly became clear, from listening to the voices coming out of the faces, that something quite extraordinary had happened. The four spirits had been so dazed and confused when they returned, that somehow . . . they’d all ended up in the wrong bodies. And they really weren’t too pleased about it.
    JC turned to smile at the increasingly horrified Professor Volke. “Well, Prof,” he said. “You wanted a psychological experiment . . .”

TWO
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    JUST A WALK IN THE PARK
    JC Chance and Catherine Latimer, field team leader and Boss of the Carnacki Institute, went walking together in the open air, in London’s Hyde Park. It was a bright, sunny day, and the venerable park was packed full of people making the most of the good weather, in a calm and easy blue-skied summer’s afternoon. Green lawns, neatly-turned-out paths, wide-branching trees . . . and happy, smiling faces everywhere. Most of whom paid little or no attention to the two very significant persons walking among them, strolling casually through the park.
    JC’s rich white suit seemed almost to glow in the bright sunlight, and his good looks, rock-star hair, and very dark sunglasses, did draw the occasional admiring glance. Catherine Latimer was well into her nineties now, but she still went striding along with almost unnatural strength and vitality. Medium height and unrepentantly stocky, her grey hair cropped in a severe bowl cut, she wore a smartly tailored grey suit with sensible shoes. Catherine’s face was all hard edges and unflinching lines, but there were still traces left of what had once been handsome, even striking, features. Her cold grey eyes regarded the sunny day with open suspicion, as though expecting it to disappear suddenly and without warning, at any moment. Catherine Latimer was not a trusting person.
    She smoked black Turkish cigarettes in a long ivory holder, apparently an affectation that went all the way back to her student days in Cambridge; and she ignored the occasional disapproving glance from passersby with magnificent disdain. She walked in a straight line, from one side of the park to the other, and it was up to everyone else to get out of her way. And they did. JC had to work hard to keep up with her.
    “All right!” he said finally, feeling very strongly that he’d been quiet and courteous for as long as he could stand. “You called and said we had to meet urgently; so here I am. What are we supposed to be talking about? And why did we have to meet here, of all places?”
    “There’s a lot to be said for the great outdoors,” said Catherine, not even glancing at him or slowing her pace. “Open spaces, and lots of people. Nothing like being part of a crowd to make you safely anonymous. And, there’s nothing like a great open