Clovenhoof 05 Beelzebelle

by Heide Goody

  Shortly after five, Freddy had emerged. The building was now in darkness. She waited until Freddy had turned the corner before slipping into the building. The stolen pass worked on the entrance door. No alarms went off, which was fortunate as Nerys didn’t imagine she could outrun the police in high heels.

  Nerys had brought a small torch with her, but lights came on automatically as she entered. She tiptoed past Freddy’s desk, then stopped and asked herself why she was tiptoeing.

  “It’s not as though anyone’s listening,” she told herself.

  Nonetheless, it just seemed the right thing to do, and she continued to tiptoe into the back rooms, through two sets of sliding doors, and into a room that certainly looked like Nerys’s idea of a lab.

  It was white, had counters and cupboards, but very little else. A brief inspection of the cupboards showed that they were empty apart from masks and surgical clothing. She went through the next door, where a similar room lit up on her arrival. This one contained some complicated-looking equipment, but nothing that looked like animals. She was wondering whether she was wasting her time, but then remembered that there was another door off the first room, so she backtracked to check it out.

  As soon as she opened the door, she detected a faint jungle smell reminiscent of Ed’s flat. The light came on and she saw that no actual animals were in there, but lots of jars lined the counter. She looked at some of them. Oryx Gazella (Oryx), Otocyon megalotis (Bat-eared Fox). She recognised Michael’s precise handwriting, but was mystified as to what they might contain. Some of them looked like balls of fur and…

  “Toe nail clippings?” she frowned.

  She shrugged. This was science, so Michael must surely know what he was doing. A tiny yip from below the counter startled her, and she realised that there was a cat carrier down there. She kneeled to look and gasped when she saw that there was a miniature Yorkshire terrier inside.

  “Awww.”

  It looked up at her with soulful eyes that made her heart burst.

  “Oh, look at you, all shut up in there!”

  Nerys unlatched the carrier.

  “You do look a lot like Twinkle,” she said. “Maybe your fur is a little bit more red, but…” She lifted it out. “… you are simply the cutest little thing, aren’t you?”

  She couldn’t possibly leave the tiny creature in here. What on earth was Michael thinking? A dog like this just needed a warm lap and some tender loving care. Nerys had bought a simple collar and lead in preparation. They were both bright pink. Hardly ideal for a covert operation, but they were stylish and that was more important.

  “Well, aren’t you going to look smart in this, eh?”

  She crouched over the dog and fiddled with the buckle. Her heavy diamante pendant swung free and got in the way. The Yorkie yipped.

  “Just a moment,” she muttered. “There, I think I’ve got it on…”

  There was an explosion, or at least that’s what it felt like to Nerys. She certainly imagined she saw a flash of light and a wisp of smoke before she was sent staggering backwards. She landed on the floor on her backside with an ‘oof’ of surprise.

  The Yorkshire terrier began to whine, but the noise rapidly transformed into something stranger, deeper, and quite unsettling. Nerys blinked the stars away from her vision. The little dog was upright on its back legs, twisting and writhing, as though it was being throttled and crushed by invisible hands. Nerys was about to rush forward to help it when it suddenly… changed.

  Its body shifted and inflated. Where before there were tiny limbs of gingery coloured fur, there were now huge muscular ones, inky black. Steely claws as long as fingers slid from its paws and drove furrows into the linoleum. Its shoulders rose, contorting its hide. Its jaw dropped and lengthened. The little pink collar pinged off its expanding neck and ricocheted off the wall.

  The beast – and it was a beast now – dropped to all fours and turned to look at Nerys. It was bigger than any dog now, even bigger than those Japanese ones she’d read about in the papers which could swallow a child without chewing.

  The beast’s face was a snarling black mask of malice. Drool dripped from its fangs.

  “Oh, God. It’s fucking Cujo,” she whimpered.

  It roared at her. It didn’t bark at her like a dog; it roared, like a lion or a bear or a blast furnace. Nerys scuttled backwards across the floor.

  “You didn’t like the pink collar?” she suggested, terrified. “There are other colours...”

  The beast pawed the floor, raking the linoleum into shreds, and then it crouched low and launched at her. She shrieked and ducked her head. There was a huge crash and, when she looked up again, surprised to be alive, there was a ragged hole in the side of the portakabin. The creature had taken out most of the wall. Hardboard and metal sheets lay twisting on the ground outside.

  More frightened than she recalled ever being before, Nerys stared out, agog. There was the beast, already distant and receding fast, bounding across the road and away.

  Michael stood to take another picture of his new friend, whose name was Spencer, apparently. He’d got pictures of Spencer tucking into a slap-up meal, pictures of Spencer sporting a new wardrobe, and, just to make sure he got maximum Piety Points, Michael wanted to get pictures of Spencer reading his new Bible.

  “Just there, like that. Perfect.”

  Spencer mumbled something.

  “They won’t see that you’re blind. Oh, they might if you hold it upside down. Here you go.”

  Michael stood back and took another, satisfied with his work. His head snapped up as he heard an unearthly howl coming from close by. He looked around and then his gaze was drawn upwards by the sound of loose tiles. There was a creature on the roof of a nearby house. It appeared to be vaguely dog-like, but the only dog it even vaguely resembled was Cerberus the hound of Hell. Huge slavering jaws chomped nastily and, although Michael hated to attribute human characteristics to animals, there was rage in those eyes. Michael thought he’d be angry too, if he looked that ugly.

  The beast saw the two men in the street below and advanced slowly down the tiles.

  “No!” shouted Michael, waving his arms at the beast. “Get away!”

  “Is there a problem?” said Spencer.

  “Go!” Michael yelled at the monster. “By all that is holy, I command you!”

  The beast growled deep in its throat, seemed to think better of attacking them, turned back up the slope of the roof, and bounded off. Michael had the presence of mind to raise his phone and begin to take some snaps, but the beast was gone over the rooftops.

  Michael realised his heart was thumping and he was breathing hard.

  “Good God,” he panted. “Did you see that?” He looked at the blind man. “Oh, sorry. Silly question. Deeply insensitive.” He shook his head at himself.

  “I thought we were getting inside the mind of a monkey,” said Ben, as Clovenhoof laid out his arsenal on the kitchen table.

  “You heard him laughing at us,” said Clovenhoof. “He was actually laughing when I was trying to reach out to him and be sincere. That monkey is just a psycho, and we need to take him down.”

  “Was that laughing?” said Ben, unsure whether he could tell. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You were rubbing wee into your chest hair.”

  “It’s supposed to be attractive to monkeys,” said Clovenhoof. “The internet said it’s a mating ritual. Is the internet ever wrong?”

  “Yes, lots.”

  Clovenhoof shrugged.

  “Not laughing now, is he? We’ve escaped from the bathroom and we’re COMING TO GET HIM!”

  Ben turned and looked at the hole in the partition wall.

  “I suppose that’s fixable,” he said, “and it did help to get the door handle off your hand.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t like that wallpaper anyway.”

  “So, which of these things are we going to try first?” asked Ben, indicating the equipment arrayed on the table.

  “All of i
t,” said Clovenhoof. He picked up the sledgehammer and walked to the wall. “Each room will need a flush point like this.” He swung the sledgehammer back and pounded a series of holes above the skirting board. “It’s thirsty work. You take a turn while I get a Lambrini.”

  Ben grasped the end of the handle and tried to lift the sledgehammer. It plummeted onto his foot and he cursed in pain.

  “If you need lighter work, you can be on hosepipe and firework detail,” said Clovenhoof. “These two walls here will have fireworks, which we’ll set off simultaneously, and that will make him come round here, where we will flush him out, literally, with the hose.” Clovenhoof continued hammering around the room, making holes.

  “This does look as though it could make a fair amount of mess. Surely there must be a less destructive method,” said Ben. “Can’t we gas him out?”

  “Have you got any gas?” asked Clovenhoof.

  “Well, no,” said Ben, then clicked his fingers. “I have got something, though. Hang on a minute.”

  He ran out of the door and returned, moments later, with a stuffed ferret. Clovenhoof eyed him sceptically.

  “I’m sorry to say this, Ben, but his hunting days are over. I don’t think he’d be much of a match for Gorky anyway.”

  “Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Ben, with a triumphant glint in his eye. “Check this out.”

  He pulled out a remote control and flicked a switch on the underside of the ferret. It trundled along on some sort of caterpillar tracking, climbing easily over the rubble left by Clovenhoof’s sledgehammer work.

  “Cool,” said Clovenhoof, nodding with approval. “It’s an improvement over your static work.”

  “That’s not all,” said Ben. “I did this as a proof of concept. If I can get hold of a lizard of some sort, I had the idea that I might make a dragon. Watch this.”

  He clicked another button on the remote control and a small ignition spark was heard, then a flame shot out of the ferret’s mouth.

  “Butane cylinder,” said Ben proudly. “I can turn that flame right up, see?”

  He turned a dial and the flame surged ahead of the ferret as it climbed up the rubble pile and disappeared into the wall cavity.

  Clovenhoof was staring at him.

  “What?” said Ben. “Yes, I know it’s unconventional but… what?”

  Clovenhoof grasped Ben’s shoulders with fierce affection.

  “You know, Ben, sometimes I wonder if I have an influence here, if my wisdom and example are teaching anything to the sorry people of this world. And then I see your remote-controlled fire-breathing ferret and I think to myself, ‘Yes, Jeremy. Your wisdom will live on.’”

  “Actually, if you approve, then I’m having second thoughts,” said Ben.

  “No, this is a great idea.”

  “Well, we certainly can send the flaming ferret right round the room,” said Ben. “It’s a lot more controlled than fireworks.”

  “Control,” said Clovenhoof. “Not totally sure that’s the word I’d use for setting fire to the skirting board, but I’m happy to see how it all pans out.”

  Ben looked in dismay at the curls of smoke and flame that were licking up the sides of the skirting board.

  “Coming through with the hosepipe!” he yelled.

  A noise came to him through the wall, and he realised that Clovenhoof was right, it was laughter.

  Nerys shakily unlocked the front door of the flats. She felt utterly drained by her bizarre experience at Michael’s lab, and she needed a big glass of wine to even begin to redress the imbalance in her soul.

  “Several glasses of wine,” she said. “No, gin. Several glasses of gin.”

  Nerys could hear noises as she shut the door behind her.

  “Oh, please, no more dramas tonight,” she muttered.

  She walked up the stairs to see Clovenhoof using a sledgehammer to smash a hole in the stairs that went up to her flat.

  “What the fuck? Stop that!” she yelled, but Ben appeared from Clovenhoof’s flat. He looked as though he’d been set on fire, although that didn’t explain the holes that had been cut in all of his clothes, or why his feet were bare. He also had a strange new haircut that looked messy even by Ben’s low standards.

  “Nerys, he’s doing that so we can get the hosepipe through and flood the cavity wall,” said Ben.

  “What? Think of the damage!” shouted Nerys, advancing towards the stairs.

  “The thing is, my fire-breathing ferret has been captured by Clovenhoof’s monkey,” said Ben. “He’s inside the walls, setting fire to everything. The whole house is going to go up in flames.”

  A light switch popped off the wall by the side of them. As they turned to look, they heard a manic cackling sound and a huge flame shot out of the hole.

  “Have you rung the fire brigade?” asked Nerys, whacking the hole with her handbag, a futile gesture, as she could hear the monkey climbing upwards.

  “Yes, but they thought it was a hoax. Perhaps I should have kept quiet about the ferret and the monkey.”

  It was clearly an evening for madness, thought Nerys. Perhaps none of this was really happening. Maybe she was in a coma somewhere, or in a mental hospital. Nerys sighed and put down her handbag.

  “Is there another hosepipe? Jeremy, we’ll need a hole in my floorboards upstairs, so we can flush him out from up there.”

  She trotted up the stairs to her flat, pushing past Clovenhoof as he demolished the staircase. He looked extremely happy for someone whose home was being destroyed.

  “Hey, I can see inside your cupboard, Ben,” he said. “Did you tell Nerys about the tripwire?”

  Nerys heard this a fraction of a second too late, as she fell forward onto the top landing.

  Michael thought carefully about how he wanted to phrase things as he waited for Chip to answer the phone.

  “Michael, it’s rather late. Do we have a problem?” said Chip gravely.

  “Nothing that can’t be sorted in the morning,” said Michael smoothly, “but I thought I should let you know. There’s been a disturbance at the lab. Quite a few repairs needed.”

  “Has it impacted upon your work, Michael? You know how important that is to me.”

  “No, Chip. Everything’s fine, only the building came under attack. I saw the creature that did it. It was...most unusual. A huge beast.”

  “Beast?”

  “It was sort of…” Michael closed his eyes. “Demonic.”

  “Was it a monkey?” Chip asked. “Someone local’s got a monkey. Seen it a couple of times.”

  “Definitely not a monkey,” said Michael. “Much bigger. Besides, I know where the monkey lives.”

  “Is that right, Michael? Do tell me more.”

  Nerys stumbled down the stairs to answer the insistent thumping. It was much too early to hope that Ben or Clovenhoof might be up already.

  “Coming, coming!” she yelled.

  She remembered to avoid the tripwire and the hole in the stairs. God, they’d have their work cut out sorting out the flats today. They had all retired to bed after being sure that the flaming ferret was disarmed. When it ran out of butane, Gorky had flung it at Clovenhoof’s head.

  She opened the door to see a man with a tie and a clipboard. He had a moustache and a serious face, but not in a good Hercule Poirot-ish way. This was a moustache and a serious face that looked like trouble.

  “Good morning. Are you one of the tenants in this building?” he asked.

  “Err yes. Nerys Thomas.”

  The man jotted a note.

  “I’m employed by the solicitor who represents the leaseholder, Ms Thomas. We need to do an inspection, as there’s been a complaint issued.”

  “What sort of complaint?” asked Nerys.

  “It has been alleged that this house has an infestation of vermin. I’m sure you’ll understand that we need to act urgently when something of this nature occurs.”

  “Uh huh. So when do you want to do the inspection?�
� asked Nerys.

  “Now, Ms Thomas. I am here to carry out the inspection with immediate effect.”

  Nerys’s mind whirled. There were so many things that this inspector should not see, she wasn’t sure where to start. She could pretend to faint, but she didn’t think that would stop him. Her best bet was to stall for time and alert the others.

  “Don’t you need to give twenty-four hours’ notice before entering rented property? I’m sure I read that somewhere.”

  “If there are grounds for believing there is an immediate danger to the occupants then no.”

  “Danger?”

  “Danger.”

  “Oh. Come in then,” she said. “You’ll know that the downstairs flat is empty at the moment. Do you need to go back for a key?”

  “I have all the keys right here,” he said. “I’ll get straight to work.”

  Nerys left him downstairs and ran up to wake Clovenhoof and Ben up. They all gathered in Clovenhoof’s flat and stared around at the devastation from the previous evening.

  “How can we hide those massive holes in the wall?” said Nerys.

  “Newspaper and aerosol spray,” said Ben promptly.

  Nerys rolled her eyes as Ben fetched his modelling supplies but, as he taped pieces of newspaper over the holes and then sprayed them in a colour that matched the wall, she wondered if it might just work.

  “He’s coming!” hissed Clovenhoof, who had just jammed the bathroom door handle into place with a huge blob of toothpaste.

  “Have you had a fire in this building at all?” said the inspector as he entered the flat, sniffing.

  “Not for a while,” said Clovenhoof, standing casually against the door frame to hide the worst of the charring. “I have just burnt some toast though. Do you want some?”