Agatha & the Scarlet Scarab

by Karl Fish

  His formula had worked. It was some relief for his own sake but was not what he had been hoping for.

  The doors to the laboratory flung open as Mr Louds marched through.

  ‘Eureka! Professor. Isn’t that what you like to say?’ Louds asked, laughing hysterically. ‘Oh, I’ve been watching you from behind my mirrors. Playing along with your minor discoveries. Well, guess what? Your purpose has been served!’

  The orderlies followed their master in and secured Professor Malcolm in a vice-like grip. Removing both the tweezers and torch from the Professor’s fingers, Mr Louds coxed the Death-stalker towards his own feet. Carefully picking up the scorpion by the sting, he placed it upon Malcolm’s forearm that the orderly was presenting to him with the sleeve now rolled up.

  ‘You see, there were two paths of this particular problem to solve. The first being the Ethereum! The influencing power of smoke as it is inhaled into the body, subtly embracing the ether and invisible in its presence. The second being the Illuminant. The opposing twin, the instructor that directs the ethers path.’ Louds stopped for a moment and walked over to the glass of water the Professor had disregarded from his first test. Pointing the torch towards it; the water illuminated in plumes of violet and blue. Invisible to the naked eye but under those certain conditions swirling like brewing summer storm clouds.

  ‘Quite poisonous to drink,’ Louds explained. ‘But makes the most beautiful paint,’ he said, dipping his finger in the glass. Upon the Professor’s profusely sweating brow, he drew the eye of RA. He accentuated the pupil with a forceful prod of his index finger. ‘You shouldn’t have been such a naughty boy, Professor. You may have retained many more of your lives. A bit like my dear friend.’

  Louds puckered his lips and called the cat. Its odd, furless body was unlike anything the Professor had seen. The cat hissed and snarled as it saw the motionless scorpion on the Professor’s arm. Then Louds picked it up by the scruff and cradled it like a baby over his shoulder. All the while he kept the beam intently focused on the Professor’s elbow joint.

  ‘Now, now, Purrsia, what was that?’ Louds said as if the cat was talking into his ear. ‘I’m sorry, we cannot keep him. I would have liked to but he is as deceitful as any feline.’ With that final sentence, he turned the torchlight off, allowing the scorpion to return to his natural predatory state. It motioned forward unfurling its sting and then with lightning precision struck the central vein of the Professor’s arm. An excruciating pain coursed immediately through Meredith’s body and into his central nervous system. A pain he had felt subtly before. This time it was ten-fold the intensity. He began to shake, foam at the mouth, and within mere seconds his muscles contorted until he was just a crippled wreck slumped on the floor. Professor Malcolm was alive, at least, but frozen in suspended animation, motionless, as he continued to see and hear his captor.

  ‘Don’t worry, Professor, you’re not dying. I’ve heard it’s actually worse than dying. I may require you in the future.’ Louds laughed and walked away with the peculiar-looking cat. ‘And as for you, my dear little pussy cat. I think it is time you took your turn on centre stage.’

  *****

  ‘I’m telling you, Eric. I saw a man, in a dark cloak. He stepped out as the car came.’

  ‘Alright, alright I believe ya!’ Eric replied. ‘But shush will you if you want to break into this stupid place.’

  ‘Well, who could it have been?’

  ‘Aggie, a man in a long dark cloak, in Ambledown, please. Haven’t you noticed who comes and goes? Could be a brother, or one of those weirdos from the hospital, smugglers and thieves, anyone. I’m more worried about that car. Don’t get many cars round ’ere.’

  ‘I couldn’t see who was driving,’ Aggie replied

  ‘Me neither,’ Eric confirmed, agitated. ‘It was following us, for sure.’

  ‘Do you think we should go back home now then? Forget about this?’ Aggie questioned her own decision.

  ‘You change your mind like the wind. Don’t say that. I didn’t want to bleedin’ do this in the first place, did I?’ Eric huffed, annoyed. ‘Look, Aggie. I said I’d look after you as did me sisters. Promised Gideon, didn’t I? No one else has helped us out more than your uncle. Besides, if that strange car was following us, or that man, you claim to have seen, was after you, then I doubt very much they’d actually look for two kids in the school at night time. Your plan may be a touch of genius.’

  Aggie managed to smile back at him as he took her hand in reassurance.

  ‘Oh my God, that’s freezing,’ Aggie said as her ankles became submerged in icy cold water.

  ‘Sorry, shoulda said. We do have to wade through the marshes a bit.’

  ‘We’ll freeze to death if this gets much deeper,’ she replied.

  ‘Better than being kidnapped by the Priory Friar. Whoooooo!’ He laughed and offered a ghoulish impersonation.

  ‘That, Eric Peabody, is not funny,’ Agatha scolded him as Goosebumps pimpled her skin.

  ‘You expect me to climb that fence, Eric ?’ Aggie asked, frozen from her recent midnight dip in the sub-zero Braggan Marshes.

  ‘It’s easy, follow my foot holes. I’ve done it loads of times.’

  ‘It’s so dark, Eric. I’m using my necklace,’ she insisted, pulling out and lighting her way.

  ‘Just put it back when we’re over. Don’t wanna get caught breaking into school. I’ve me reputation to think about.’

  Aggie laughed out loud.

  Eric vaulted the top of the fence like a gymnast but as he did so he dropped a small glass jar from his pocket, it shattered on the ground below.

  ‘Oh shit!’ he swore.

  ‘No one heard, Eric. Just us,’ Aggie reassured him.

  ‘Not the noise I’m worried about. Those little bleeders are worth their weight in gold,’ he said bending down quickly, trying to scoop up as many as he could, placing the scrambling scarabs wriggling into and buttoning his pocket.

  Aggie joined him in a more gracious descent. As her magnifier lit up, she saw a light from the playground-side windows of the girls’ side.

  ‘Look, Eric. Over there, light.’

  Eric flashed a glance over but it had already gone. ‘Can’t see nuffink,’ Eric replied. ‘Could’ve been your bleeding light, reflecting on the windows. Told you to hide it.’

  Aggie apologised quickly as she hid it once more beneath her blouse.

  ‘Right, where are we going?’ Eric asked.

  ‘Sister Harvey’s room. She has something from Dove, which I think will help me.’

  Eric began a systematic rattling of the boys’ side windows. It wasn’t long before one succumbed to his touch.

  ‘I unlock ’em all every day.’ He smiled at Aggie. ‘Stupid Brothers only ever fink to check my classroom. Shan’t be a mo,’ the adventurous Peabody announced as he disappeared inside.

  Aggie waited. She was beginning to shiver in the chill of the night, sodden to the waist. She hadn’t waited long before the fire escape door swung open. Eric appeared clutching two cloaks.

  ‘Pssst, Aggie, over here. Might want to slip into these before we freeze.’

  *****

  ‘Taube, this is Tuchhandler. Taube, come in. Over,’ crackled the voice through the hidden radio.

  ‘This is Taube. Go on,’ Dove answered.

  ‘Mialora has the formula. I repeat, Mialora has the formula!’

  ‘And the girl? Over?’ Dove asked with bated breath. ‘Does he know about the girl?’

  ‘Nein, Taube. Not that he has advised so far.’

  The shattering of glass broke the silence as Dove waited for Tuchhandler to respond.

  ‘Taube out,’ Dove advised, immediately cutting off communications.

  She closed the suitcase and hid it back within its inlaid wooden hideout behind the bookcase. Moving quietly to the wall beside the door, she noticed a small stream of light passing through the corridor.

  The light disappeared and shortly after Dove began to fo
llow. She followed the soft footsteps winding through the corridor. She peered through the crack in the doorway and saw the cloaked figure kneeling at the bookcase on the Priory side of the girls’ classroom.

  ‘Stand up slowly and turn around or I will shoot,’ Dove ordered, producing a Luger from her waist.

  The figure did not say a thing, stood up, removed her hood and turned around smiling at the governess.

  ‘You!’ Dove exclaimed. ‘I knew it was you.’

  *****

  ‘Right, Aggie, you make your way to Harvey’s. I’ll keep an eye out,’ Eric suggested.

  Covering her head in the hood, she made her way quietly towards the room. Dove’s office door was open. Aggie cautiously peered inside, and she saw that she wasn’t there. One less thing to worry about, she thought to herself.

  Harvey’s classroom door was open. Aggie crept to the threshold and peered through the crack in the door. A darkened figure was sitting with their back to them, just in front of the bookcase with the secret vent.

  ‘Miss, Miss Harvey?’ Aggie asked as she made her way towards the figure. ‘Miss, are you awake?’

  Aggie crept up from behind and being careful not to wake her. She rounded the sister to find her gagged and bound.

  Eric Peabody rushed into the room. ‘What’s going on? I ’erd voices?’ he said, voice raised.

  Sister Harvey was awake, shaking her head and trying to tell them something. Aggie tried to remove the gag but it was too late. The door to the room closed with a subtle click. Eric Peabody turned quickly to be greeted by a cold barrel of a pistol pressed into his forehead.

  ‘Nobody say a single word. Not unless you wish me to prove what little brains this boy has,’ came Miss Dove’s voice. ‘You, Agatha Chatsmore, take the Sister’s legs. You, Eric Peabody, take her arms.’

  Both Eric and Agatha stared back with incredulity.

  ‘Now! Do it immediately,’ Dove demanded aggressively.

  Aggie stepped forward feeling the crunch of shattered glass beneath her feet and spying the broken picture frame face down on the floor.

  ‘Hurry Up!’ Governess Dove urged them on as they struggled to drag and slide the nun through the corridors under her direction. ‘Here. In here,’ she ordered them, into the small medical room where Aggie had been examined under the supervision of Dr Beckworth. ‘You’ll not be found in here,’ she confirmed. Passing a ball of coarse twine to Aggie, she ordered her to tie Eric up. Checking the knots thoroughly, Dove ensured they were secured tightly, pinching the skin and making it drain white of the circulating blood, before gagging Eric with a rag, before tying Aggie up herself.

  ‘Should you try to escape, I will kill you. Without hesitation!’ Dove confirmed.

  Eric was snarling and writhing around on the floor, exhausting himself to escape.

  ‘Such a silly boy. If you do not believe me, allow me to demonstrate.’

  Dove removed a small green bottle from her pocket. On the front of it, the small image of the highly toxic Death-stalker. She uncorked it and drew its liquid into a small needle.

  ‘Have you ever been kissed by a scorpion?’ Dove asked Eric as her nose drew in to touch his.

  He had stopped moving and was now petrified as she danced the small metal sharp in front of him.

  ‘Don’t cry, little boy,’ she enjoyed saying as tears welled up in his eyes. ‘I won’t hurt you unless you try to escape. I would never knowingly harm a child. What do you take me for a monster?’ She laughed.

  Eric relaxed from his flailing and exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

  ‘But adults should know better!’ she shouted, thrusting the needle into Sister Harvey’s arm.

  The nun shook violently. Her body cramped up as saliva poured out from either side of her gag. Her tied hands retracted like claws as she contorted into a foetal position.

  The two children’s screams were muffled. Agatha shuffled to support the nun’s head with her body, much like Florrie’s as her aunt had gasped and become overwhelmed by the toxic gas all those days ago.

  Dove moved behind her young female captive. Fearing the worst, Aggie flinched expecting a sharp chill to penetrate her neck. Instead, Dove leant her forward and pulled back the hood so she could stare down at her spine.

  ‘That stupid drunk doctor,’ she cursed. ‘That is definitely not a bruise.’

  *****

  ‘Welcome, Tuchhandler.’ Mr Louds smiled broadly, welcoming his recent ally into The Silvera Institute.

  Accompanied by several men cloaked in long leather coats with pistols at their sides, they followed Mr Louds and his orderlies into the labyrinth tunnels of the huge white building.

  ‘Please, gentlemen, make yourselves comfortable. You are completely safe here,’ Louds reassured them.

  The barren white walkways with picture-less frames amused them as they followed behind. They were being escorted to the operating theatres where Mr Louds was to present their recent revelations. A crescent of chairs was set out in front of a glass viewing window that was obscured by a set of heavy emerald drapes.

  ‘Excuse me for one moment,’ Louds explained. ‘Keep watching the curtain in front of you.’

  The green drapes parted almost immediately to show Purrsia, the furless cat, sitting in front of a cage of rats that it was eagerly pawing at and trying to attack. Next to the cage of rats sat a large glass aquarium full of water with a small runway leading up to it. A crackling of a public address system announced Brain Louds’ voice.

  ‘I give you Dr Mialora,’ he said proudly. ‘He apologises for the mask but all will become evident.’

  A door to the operating theatre opened and a surgeon, dressed in full swabs and sporting a gas mark that obscured his entire face, entered the room. Moving to the cage full of rats, he removed one by its tail and swung it hypnotically in front of the cat. Purrsia pounced immediately and played with the rodent before tearing it limb from limb. The gallery of men sat on observing, unflinching.

  Behind the glass, Dr Mialora flicked a switch and plunged the operating theatre into darkness. Holding up the violet torch for all the men to see, he danced its beam around the cage like a cheap vaudeville act. The furless feline, Purrsia, was back at the rat cage trying again to claw at them. Dr Mialora opened the cage, releasing the rats, and sending Purrsia into a frenzy, eagerly pouncing and attacking anything he could catch. The doctor then moved to another switch. On flicking it, an invisible gas descended into the room. Transparent to the naked eye, it was only observed once the violet torch beam was shone and interacted with the plumes to produce swirling clouds of violet and blue. Training the torch beam on the cat, having sufficiently inhaled the gas, it now sat stationary, ignoring its vermin quarry. As the doctor guided the beam around the glass room Purrsia attentively rose and followed its every move. The doctor guided the manipulated moggy right next to the rats that had also stopped moving and were now following the beam alongside the cat in a macabre dance of obedience.

  ‘A clever trick, Doctor,’ one of the men hurled towards the operating theatre. ‘You trained a cat. You trained some rats. So what?’

  The doctor stared back from behind his gas mask. Taking the torch beam, he proceeded to march the animals, single file, around the room as if some bizarre pied piper with a torch, rather than a pipe, was influencing the creatures. Ensuring that the men were watching closely, he marched the creatures slowly up the walkway to the edge of the aquarium before directing the torch beam into the water. Purrsia and the rodent followers immediately dived in desperately swimming down to where the torch beam focused beneath the water. It must have been two, maybe three minutes, during which the thrashing of the animals was furious and until none of them had any more life to give. Then the torchlight went out and the main light was returned to illuminate the room behind the glass.

  The top of the tank was overflowing with the corpses of rats and the poor lifeless body of the cat.

  The men looked at one another.

  Their leader
stood up and clapped slowly in recognition. ‘Bravo, Doctor. Bravo,’ he said in his weasel-like voice.

  *****

  During Erket’s journey through the dark countryside, she had insisted her driver dim the headlights. It was perilous enough on those country lanes at night but she had insisted.

  On the outskirts of Ambledown, they sped swiftly past the large iron gates intertwined with HH and down the narrowing road where the cobblestoned bridge arched over the source of the Amble.

  Ilya Debrovska had laid his trap here only weeks previously and the fruits of his labour were now coming to fruition.

  ‘Be careful,’ Erket warned the driver. ‘We will approach another bridge in a few hundred yards.’

  The chauffeur slowed on approach as they were engulfed in a foggy mist as the hump of the bridge welcomed them. Out of the subtle clouds, two large green eyes lit up in the centre of the road. The driver swerved and was forced to brake suddenly, skidding the car sideways. Only by luck, not judgement, did he avoid the large female fox and its cubs in the middle of the road and manage not to veer down the nearby ravine. Only yards away, hidden behind bracken and mature trees was the immediate and deathly drop that hid the disused railway line.

  ‘You stupid man!’ Erket screamed. ‘Run the damn things over next time!’

  The driver apologised and readjusted his skewed hat. In the boot, the terrified cries of Gemima Peabody were drowned out by the revs of the engine. The recent swerve of the car had opened up her stitches from her accident that morning. She felt the warm trickle of blood on her forehead again. Her eyes struggled to keep open until there was just darkness, and she slid back into her concussed sleep.

  *****

  ‘One hour, six minutes! That’s a record,’ Tate announced proudly. Holding his pocket watch.