by Karl Fish
‘I was mistaken. There is a new evacuee girl, from London, she demonstrated signs of bruising and I mistook it for the mark.’
‘The mark of the moon?’ Erket questioned, intently staring at Dove.
‘Is what I thought at first,’ Dove explained, backtracking. ‘But in my excitement to please you I misunderstood and the doctor confirmed it was actually bruising.’
‘Perhaps I should see for myself. Which girl is this? What does she look like?’ Erket enquired.
‘She has a dark bobbed haircut and she lives just up the road, on the Steep. I can find her address if you give me a moment.’
‘No need,’ Erket replied quickly.
‘If I discover any new information, I will be sure to inform Tuchhandler who in turn will inform Dr Mialora.’ Dove confirmed.
‘You may also inform Tuchhandler that we too are almost ready.’
‘Very well.’ Dove smiled with anticipation.
‘Gute nacht.’ Erket smiled as she left the building, sparking up a cigarette.
‘Goodnight,’ Dove replied cordially, seeing the lady in the zebra-print coat safely outside to where her driver was waiting. Locking the door behind her, she swiftly journeyed to her office. Wheeling what looked like a stationary bookcase around, she unlocked a green vinyl suitcase with a hard shell that was suspended within an inlay cutout behind the books. Sitting it upright, the top half harboured a metal cube, which in turn encased a circular globe that had a flashing light upon it and a map of the surrounding Ambledown geography. Beneath the top half and lying flat upon the surface was a typewriter, spooling device, microphone and speaker, all of which were protected by the metal casing.
Placing the headset over her ears Dove flipped the switch to initiate contact. ‘Tuchhandler this is Taube. Over.’
A few momentary seconds of crackling and a reply came through. ‘This is Tuchhandler,’ came the wheezing tone of a man’s voice. ‘What is it, Taube.’
‘Erket is onto the girl. I tried to cover up my mistake but she saw straight through it.’
‘Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?’ the man replied.
‘Nein. Not one hundred per cent. She did, however, inform me they are almost ready to proceed.’
‘Then we stick to the plan.’
‘If she snatches the girl, we no longer have the advantage,’ Dove advised.
‘Halt, Taube, Nein! You hear me, we stick to the plan. Until we have the formula, we cannot risk crossing Dr Mialora. Do you hear? I said, do you hear?’
‘But, sir, I believe we need to secure her first.’
‘Halt, Taube. Nein! That is an order.’
*****
Erket slid across the passenger seat and paused for thought.
‘Back to the Institute, ma’am?’ the driver asked.
‘I think we will stay awhile. Drive around back to the top of this road and park out of sight.”
Chapter 43
Taube
The chimes of midnight presented Eric Peabody with an ideal opportunity for adventure. He had washed, for the first time in days, and even attempted to comb his unkempt hair. He shimmied down the drainpipe to the rear of his room, above the Poacher, scurried along one of the well-hidden alleyways, and approached 1a The Keep.
Eric wasn’t the only one awake. He was being watched from an adjacent passageway by a cloaked figure. Further down the Steep, parked out of sight, he would soon be revealed to the lady in the striped coat.
Aggie was watching from the first-floor window of her bedroom. Nan had locked the front door from the inside and taken the key. She tapped the window as Eric made his way up the stone steps and indicated with his hands that they required the key. Mimicking a silent film star with a cane Eric turned around and walked foolishly down the steps. Purposely overacting every subtle movement, he counted along several cobbles before overturning one and producing a key. Gideon’s secret hiding place. Aggie made light work of her descent, unbolted the deadlocks inside, and greeted Eric as he unlocked the door from the outside.
‘You smell a lot better,’ she said and laughed.
Fortunately, Eric’s blushes were hidden in the darkness. ‘So where are we off to?’ he asked.
‘First stop is the war memorial, and then the school,’ Aggie informed him.
‘School?’ Eric frowned. ‘What?! I spend most me time tryin’ to break out.’
‘I know, and I need you to help me break in,’ Aggie ordered him.
‘That’s just stupid.’ Eric shook his head in disbelief.
Aggie grabbed his arm and led him down the hill almost skipping. ‘Not scared are you, Eric?’ Aggie goaded him. Despite her recent fears and an increasing sense of dread when she was on her own, Eric Peabody’s presence and knowledge of infinite escape routes throughout Ambledown reassured her.
‘Course not!’ he said, raising his voice and puffing his chest. ‘Sure you don’t want to sell that?’ he asked, pointing to Aggie’s necklace, which was now beginning to glow.
The more the miniature magnifier spent in the moonlight the brighter its beam became. Aggie was quick to hide it beneath her blouse once again as it would expose them when really, she wanted them to be cloaked and hidden in the shadows.
From her car, ‘Erket’ spotted the brief moment of luminance as it lit up the girl with the black bobbed hair.
‘What is that?’ she said, directing her driver towards Aggie’s neck, while exhaling her cigarette. ‘Bring me the girl,’ she whispered to her driver as she expelled another subtle wisp of cigarette smoke for his consumption.
*****
‘Who can we trust?’ Belle asked Thompson.
‘As of now, Belle, I’m not sure. My men are treading softly and scrutinising the list. It appears Draper may have infiltrated OSIRIS after all. He wasn’t on the list. Nor were Nathaniel or Gideon. As it stands, I trust yourself, and my fellow recruits,’ he responded.
‘Do you not find it peculiar that Malling and Collingdale fail to remember being given the card but accept it belonged to them?’ Belle offered with scepticism.
‘It doesn’t make sense whichever way you look at it. Something is awry, but that something we need to discover.’
‘Have you considered approaching Wink?’ Belle asked.
‘God no. If she is compromised, I’ll be compromising whatever edge we may have.’
‘So, where do we go from here?’ Belle asked, seeking reassurance.
‘Ambledown,’ Thompson confirmed.
*****
Night had finally come. Tate stoked the embers of the fully fired steam engine he had spent the last few hours preparing.
‘Nathaniel, are you OK?’ Gideon asked.
Noone had been staring into the coals of the locomotive for just over a minute. The embers’ hypnotic dance was seducing him. By all rights, he should have had the most abrasive fear of any fire but since the evacuation, he had succumbed to its charms. Along with the flames, he saw costumed men dancing, dressed up in masked totems, memories of a distant past, the violet hue burning brightly amongst them as cloaked men hummed softly, and spoke in whispers.
‘Nathaniel!’ Gideon shook his friend aggressively to wake him out of it.
‘Oh, bleeding great. I knew this would happen, just like last time,’ Tate chimed in.
‘You’re paid to get us there, not talk,’ Gideon volleyed back, quickly quashing the dissenting smuggler.
‘’Ere,’ Tate replied, taking the shovel from Noone.
‘Nate, go up top – on point,’ Gideon ordered. ‘Nate, do it now and wear a mask, the steam and soot will be unrelenting.’
Noone was handed a rifle from Tate Braggan to accompany his mask and climbed the iron ladder on the side of the engine outside.
‘How long?’ Gideon asked Tate
‘Hour and ’alf or thereabouts,’ Tate confirmed
‘That’s twice as quick as last time. Are you sure?’
‘Don’t have a couple of cabooses and a small army to ch
ug this time, do we? And the path should still be clear,’ Tate confirmed. ‘That is, of course, if you can keep up with me, Professor.’ He smiled, shovelling coal as quickly as he could.
Gideon took up the task; challenge accepted. He donned a handkerchief across his face, looking more like a bank robber than a stoker as he matched Tate’s shovel-load for shovel-load. His dear friend sat sentry just above. The steam-powered machine puffed away slowly as it began to roll into life, soon to be hurtling south, towards the coast and Ambledown.
‘Let’s try to make it an hour,’ Gideon challenged Tate, as sweat poured from both of their brows.
*****
‘So, wot are we lookin’ for?’ Eric piped up.
‘Not entirely sure,’ Aggie replied as she removed her necklace and began to hover over the stone tomes at the guardian angel’s feet that protected the cenotaph.
‘Gis a clue at least,’ Eric insisted. Always looking around ensuring they were safe.
‘C S-M’ said Aggie.
Arithmetic was more Eric’s forte, particularly if it included gambling on the horses or any kind of haggling. Reading, not so much, but he could just about manage a few letters. Aggie had immediately noticed the names were alphabetically ordered via surname. She moved directly to the end stones looking for S’s. Eric began at the opposite end.
‘There are a few Smythe’s on here, Eric. Any relation to Henrietta?’
‘Technically a Huntington-Smythe, as she and her muvva like to remind us constantly. But yeah possibly. She, I mean Henny’s muvva Sybil is the daughter of Lord Huntington. ’
‘Sybil? Seriously? Sybil Smythe? Is that really her mother’s name. That’s so funny.’ Aggie was giggling.
‘You’ve met her, Lady H-S, haven’t you? Well, her muvva, Henny’s grandma made them two look saintly. Or so the rumour goes. Whatever witchcraft she employed on ’im, it worked.’
‘So, she married into Lord Huntington’s family and they became Huntington-Smythe.’
‘Cunning old cow by all accounts.’ Eric nodded. ‘’Ere we go … Bel-cham-bers … like your name,’ he called out phonetically.
‘I’m not looking for my name, silly. Anything with C S-M.’
‘Belchambers – A – that could be you. Belchambers – G – that could be your uncle.’
‘Eric, stop larking about and help me. Someone’s bound to spot us if we don’t hurry.’
‘Belchambers –F … gawd knows who that is.’
‘F? No way. Did you say F too? Let me see,’ Aggie insisted. True enough, three Belchambers. All of them sharing initials with her family. That’s more than a coincidence, she thought, as she took out her necklace to see better.
As it absorbed the moonlight, its glow lit up the shadowy figure over the shoulder of Eric Peabody, emerging from the hidden entranceway of The Crown coaching inn. As Aggie set eyes on the figure staring back at her, the dull tone of an engine came revving down the hill and emerged hastily from behind. The car had been silently stalking them and was now fully revved up to snatch Aggie. The cloaked figure stepped into the road just at the point as the car arrived, forcing it to swerve, sending it screeching down the gipsy road and away from Aggie and Eric.
‘Quick, leg it!’ Eric shouted, grabbing Aggie by the hand, and directing her into the alleyways just south of the Poacher. It was the one where Lyle had previously confronted her.
‘Who was that?’ Aggie asked.
‘I didn’t get a good look. The car was too fast. And put that bleeding thing away.’
Aggie tucked the fully illuminated necklace into her blouse once more.
‘Not the car, the man?’ Aggie.
‘Wot man? I didn’t see no man,’ Eric replied.
‘He was right behind you as if he purposely stepped out. Wearing a long cloak. A Cossack, I think.’
‘Oh, dear goodness, not the Priory Friar! You saw the Priory Friar. Ghosts give me the collywobbles, Aggie. I fink we should get you back home. It’s too dangerous with ghouls running about the place.’
‘Stop lying to me, Eric. Who was it?’ Aggie said aggressively.
‘’Onest, cross me art. Didn’t see no fella. Come on, let’s get home now.’
‘Don’t you think they may have followed us from the house?’ Aggie asked.
‘Well, where then?’ Eric asked.
‘Let’s go to the school, as planned.’
‘For pity’s sake,’ Eric moaned. Taking Aggie’s hand, he guided her through the labyrinth of alleyways and shortcuts he knew like nobody else.
‘This isn’t the right way, Eric,’ Aggie whispered.
‘It is if you don’t want to be seen.’
*****
‘So, Professor Malcolm, where does this leave us. Can you deliver on your promise?’ asked Mr Louds.
‘I am certain the majority of this puzzle has been solved.’ Returning to the original scrolls and the negative illustrations he had garnered from them, Professor Malcolm began to run through them one by one. ‘The light or at least the god of light, Horus, is responsible for the scarabs’ ability to produce such a wonderful display of colour,’ he said, stepping through each section very carefully. ‘It is this light, and the influence it has, which turns all others into followers. The scarabs themselves metamorphose to mimic their leader, their god.’
‘Very good, Professor. Please, keep going.’
‘It appears to me that the changelings, the violet Scarabidae and the plants, are then somehow combined together, crushed, by the looks of things.’ He pointed to the two women with the pestle and mortar.
‘Very good. Very good!’ Louds grew excited.
‘Then I am unsure. Perhaps smoke or maybe water helps to distribute it somehow.’ He demonstrated, pointed to the wavy glyph.
‘Or maybe both?’ Louds added.
‘Then I believe, via your demonstrations, Mr Louds, the rest is self-explanatory.’
Brian Louds laughed to himself. Looking back at him from the puzzle was the all-seeing eye of RA, accompanied by the gods Anubis and Set. He did indeed know how the rest of the cartouche unfolded.
‘Bravo, Professor. Bravo. You have succeeded where others have failed. Now, I need you to become those working women and make me the powder.’
‘But I have no idea of how much of each to combine.’
‘Never fear.’ Louds smiled. ‘Try to recreate this.’
He held out the small pillbox with a tiny amount of the original dust he had used on the beetles before. Reaching to one of the jars Eric had filled, he removed a writhing example of one of the scarabs. Placing it in a mortar he slowly crushed it underneath until its outer shell splintered and its innards squelched under the pressure.
‘There, I have half completed it for you, Professor. You have until morning.’
*****
‘Elizabeth, did you hear that screech?’ Gemima asked. It was the first thing she had said following her accident.
‘Go to sleep, Gem. We’ve had such a long day.’
Gem looked out of the bedroom window she shared with her sister, and up and down the Steep. She spotted the flash of light as Eric and Aggie disappeared out of sight. He must be coming home. She decided she would go out and greet her brother.
Gemima was not far behind them both and was keen to see both her brother and the girl whose haircut she had copied, following the assault on Henrietta. As she turned the corner there was no one there, just a very dark passageway. She tentatively made her way, following Eric’s well-worn route.
‘Aggie! Eric!’ she called out in a muted tone. She was too scared to step into the smugglers’ routes at night and turned to head home.
‘Hello,’ came Erket’s voice as Gem walked straight into her.
She was just about to scream when the sharp sting of a pinprick rendered her unconscious.
The driver pulled up alongside and Gemima was bundled into the boot.
‘Where is it? Where is the necklace?’ she barked at her driver, who began an unsu
ccessful search of the surrounding floor in the darkness. In the background, calls diverted their attention
‘Gem, where are you?’ shouted Elizabeth as she wandered out, bleary-eyed, from the warm safety of the Poacher and peered down the Steep.
‘You will have to come back in the daytime,’ Erket ordered as they took to their car and sped off once more.
The brake lights of a car were just visible as they sped away
‘Gemimaaaaaa?’ Elizabeth called in the distance.
Chapter 44
Purrsia
Professor Meticulous Meredith Malcolm rued the senseless crushing of the fascinating scarabs that glowed in front of him. Eric’s haul was impressive and the expensive creature cargo would require many hands to convert them from living organisms into ethereal powder when combined with the crushed Sussex Sedge.
Morning was approaching fast and the Professor could well imagine the fate of those before him. He could only hope the pound note had found its way to Professor Gideon Belchambers.
His first attempt to replicate the dust from Mr Louds’ pillbox had seen it disperse into the cup of water. It did not quite form the paste he had hoped to dry. The water had also remained transparent without any sight of a violet dilution.
This would be his second attempt and the path he had chosen this time was smoke.
Ensuring the Scarlet Scarab was duly covered in the thick muslin cloth, its remaining light fading now darkness had come, he lit a match and sprinkled his small sample into the glass tank of the Death-stalkers, puffing the tiny level of smoke amongst them. Their hypnotic state now fading from the bright beetle that had commanded their attention, they turned and focused once again on their violet-glowing neighbours.
Professor Malcolm could not be sure if it was the formula or the beetles themselves, so he carefully gathered a small set of tweezers and removed a single Death-stalker from its enclosure. Placing it on the floor, it writhed and lashed out with its pincers as he held the sting securely. Lighting a match once again, he gently blew the formula towards the arachnid before letting it loose. As it scurried off to find cover, he focused the small violet torch beam just ahead of it. As he moved it from left and right, the eight-legged beast pursued the light source as if stalking it like injured prey.
