Simon R. Green - Ghost of a Smile

Table of Contents

Praise for the Novels of the Nightside

A HARD DAYS KNIGHT

Plenty of action packed in from London to Glastonbury... should definitely please fantasy action fans. Booklist

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UNCANNY

A fast, intelligently written tale that is fun to read.

The Green Man Review

JUST ANOTHER JUDGEMENT DAY

Another unrestrained ride through the Nightside.

Monsters and Critics

THE UNNATURAL INQUIRER

Sam Spade meets Sirius Black... in the Case of the Cosmic MacGuffin... crabby wit and inventively gruesome set pieces.

Entertainment Weekly

HELL TO PAY

If youre looking for fast-paced, no-holds-barred dark urban fantasy, you need look no further: the Nightside is the place for you.

SFRevu

SHARPER THAN A SERPENTS TOOTH

A captivating tale.

Midwest Book Review

PATHS NOT TAKEN

An entertaining adventure.

Chronicle

HEX AND THE CITY

[Greens] style is unique, stylized, and addictive.

The Green Man Review

NIGHTINGALES LAMENT

Strong horror fantasy.

The Best Reviews

AGENTS OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS

If you like your noir pitch-black, then return to the Nightside.

University City Review

SOMETHING FROM THE NIGHTSIDE

A fast, fun little roller coaster of a story.

Jim Butcher

Novels of the Nightside

SOMETHING FROM THE NIGHTSIDE
AGENTS OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS
NIGHTINGALES LAMENT
HEX AND THE CITY
PATHS NOT TAKEN
SHARPER THAN A SERPENTS TOOTH
HELL TO PAY
THE UNNATURAL INQUIRER
JUST ANOTHER JUDGEMENT DAY
THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UNCANNY
A HARD DAYS KNIGHT

Ghost Finders Novels
GHOST OF A CHANCE
GHOST OF A SMILE

Secret Histories Novels

THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN TORC
DAEMONS ARE FOREVER
THE SPY WHO HAUNTED ME
FROM HELL WITH LOVE
FOR HEAVENS EYES ONLY

Deathstalker Novels

DEATHSTALKER
DEATHSTALKER REBELLION
DEATHSTALKER WAR
DEATHSTALKER HONOR
DEATHSTALKER DESTINY
DEATHSTALKER LEGACY
DEATHSTALKER RETURN
DEATHSTALKER CODA

Hawk and Fisher Novels

SWORDS OF HAVEN
GUARDS OF HAVEN

Also by Simon R. Green

BLUE MOON RISING
BEYOND THE BLUE MOON
DRINKING MIDNIGHT WINE

Omnibus

A WALK ON THE NIGHTSIDE

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over
and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

GHOST OF A SMILE

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY

Ace mass-market edition / September 2011

Copyright 2011 by Simon R. Green.

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without
permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the
authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN : 978-1-101-54363-4

ACE
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the A design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. http://us.penguingroup.com

Ghosts are messages. From the Past, the Present,
and sometimes the Future.

ONE

DOGGED BY THE PAST

Its a sad fact that these days, there are more places that used to be factories than there are working factories. And many of these old deserted buildings, left to rot and ruin, have become bad places. Haunted by a past they cant forget and men who cant forgive.

There are lots of ways a building can turn bad. Something terrible happens, staining the environs with enough horror and suffering to poison the psychic wells forever, or just the long years accumulations of all the petty evils and moral crimes that man is heir to. People make places bad, and bad places make horror shows, to haunt the living with the sins of the dead. People do more than work in factories, and they always leave something of themselves behind.

Which is why a battered old mini-van, with rusting panels and balding tyres, came crashing to a halt in an overgrown and weed-infested car park, outside the factory building once owned and operated by Winter Industries. The vans engine fell silent with a series of relieved coughs, and the slow, sullen quiet of evening returned. The huge old building stood open and exposed to the elements, a stark minimalist structure of steel and concrete, looking somehow lost and ill at ease now that it no longer had a function or a purpose. Broken glass in the windows, overlapping graffiti on the walls... most of it faded into incoherence, like disappearing voices from the past. The huge open doors at the front had been sealed off with yards of yellow police-incident tapes, their ragged ends whipping mournfully back and forth in the gusting wind.

From out of the clapped-out old mini-van stepped JC Chance, Melody Chambers, and Happy Jack Palmer.

The Ghost Finders of the Carnacki Institute.

It was late evening, heading into night. There were bloody stains on the heavy clouds in the lowering sky, while the sun hung low above the horizon, giving up on the day. There were shadows everywhere, long and deep and dark. The evening light looked stained and damaged, bruised. The gusting wind made a few half-hearted attempts to kick some leaves around the abandoned car park but couldnt really be bothered. The factory stood still and solid, holding darkness within.

JC strode out across the car park, heading for the deserted factory like a general with a battle hymn in his heart. He was never happier than when he was throwing himself headlong into life-and-death action, with the world at stake and all to play for, best foot forward and damn the consequences. Which was why hed had such a hard time finding partners who would put up with him. Most people had more sense. He stopped before the building and looked it over, his fists on his hips and a broad cocky grin on his face. JC loved a mystery, and a challenge, and a chance to kick the unearthly where it hurt.

JC was tall and lean, loud and confident, full of energy and far too handsome for his own good. In his late twenties, he had a rock stars mane of long dark hair, and a rich ice-cream three-piece suit of quite startling style and elegance. He also wore the heaviest, darkest sunglasses he could find, with good reason. Simply standing there in the wide-open car park, he looked like a sheriff come to clean up Tombstone.