‘About time,’ Eddie blurted out. ‘Someone who’ll listen to us.’
‘To me,’ Sir William stressed. ‘You’d better wait out there, Eddie, I think. And let me explain matters to Mr Barford.’
The door closed, leaving Eddie and the secretary Haskins alone in the office.
‘It must be an important matter for Barford to bother himself with it,’ Haskins admitted.
‘Yeah, well. Could be the end of the Empire, I s’pose,’ Eddie admitted. ‘Important bloke is he? This Barford?’
‘Between you and me, one of the most influential people in the country. There’s little that the government does that Anthony Barford does not have a hand in.’
Eddie pointed at the picture on the wall between them. ‘So who’s this lot?’
‘The Cabinet. The Prime Minister’s most important ministers. That photograph was taken just last month, out in the garden. It was only delivered this week. Here,’ he went on, pointing to the picture, ‘you can see …’ He broke off. ‘That’s odd.’
‘What’s odd?’ Eddie had a sudden feeling of unease. ‘What is it?’
Haskins gave a short, nervous laugh. ‘You know, I was sure that Mr Barford was there as well. Perhaps he was called away. But he was standing just here, between these two …’
‘But – there’s no one there,’ Eddie realised. He might already be too late. He wrenched open the door and rushed into the room beyond.
‘How good of you to join us,’ Barford said. He was still standing on the other side of the desk. But his expression had hardened, and he was holding a gun.
Eddie skidded to a halt beside Sir William. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I expect you know, then.’
‘I gathered,’ Sir William said.
‘You may go now, Haskins,’ Barford called. ‘I have matters under control. These two are, I am afraid, wanted by the police.’
Haskins looked shocked and pale. ‘Shall I summon assistance?’
‘There’s no need,’ said another voice. It came from behind Haskins in the outer office. A tall, thin man marched across to the door. ‘As Mr Barford said, the matter is under control. You may leave us.’ Sir Harrison Judd stepped into the Prime Minister’s office and pulled the door closed behind him.
‘It was you he was waiting for,’ Eddie realised.
‘And the Prime Minister?’ Sir William asked.
‘Oh, he really is at the House of Commons,’ Barford said. ‘Where we will shortly join him. In time to witness the Palace of Westminster become the Parliament of Blood.’
The back door of the theatre was blowing in the breeze. There was a faint light from inside, but the whole place seemed deserted.
George had the metal box with Oldfield’s journals tucked under his arm. He had shuddered at pushing them back underneath the bats. Now the weight of the box was somehow reassuring as he made his way cautiously into the darkened building.
‘Liz?’ he called. ‘Liz – are you there?’
The only reply was the distant sound of laughter. A woman’s laughter.
‘Is that you?’ he called again, but more cautious now.
The corridor led past dressing rooms and store cupboards. Eventually he found himself at the side of the stage, looking out from the wings. He could see the darkened auditorium. A single light shone across the stage from the other side. It illuminated the figure standing there. A stark silhouette outlined in the pale green of the limelight. He could smell the bitter, acrid fumes of the burning lime. But his attention was on the woman.
She laughed again as George stepped out on to the stage. He still could not see her properly, and shielded his eyes from the bright light with his free hand.
‘Liz?’
‘She’s not here.’
As she moved towards George, she blocked out the glare of the light and he saw that it was Marie Cuttler.
‘You’re feeling better? Do you know where she went?’
Marie took another step towards George. ‘She had an appointment. She had to go.’
‘Go? Go where?’ George could feel his heart beating in the side of his chest. The thumping became more pronounced, irregular.
Marie was right in front of him now. There was something in her voice that froze George to the spot.
‘How kind of you to come. I’m glad you are here. I’m so very, very hungry.’
There was a small looking glass on the back wall of the Prime Minister’s office. It was in an ornate plaster frame, and when Anthony Barford stood in front of it, Eddie saw that he had no reflection.
‘I am sorry that you will not live to see the culmination of so many centuries of work,’ Barford told Sir William and Eddie as he turned from the mirror to face them again.
‘Me too,’ Eddie retorted.
‘But you don’t have the fifth canopic jar,’ Sir William pointed out. ‘Surely you need the Lord of the Undead’s heart?’
‘What do you know about that?’ Sir Harrison Judd demanded.
‘Only what I have read.’
‘It isn’t important,’ Barford decided. ‘The Coachman will find it. He can feel it, you know,’ he told Sir William. ‘The Coachman is so attuned to the Lord’s desires and wishes and needs that he can feel his heart beating within the casket. With every beat, he gets closer to finding it. Tonight’s ceremony will go ahead. We have everything we need for that now.’ He turned to Judd and raised an eyebrow. ‘I am assuming …?’
‘Waiting in the office outside,’ Sir Harrison Judd assured him.
‘What about the Prime Minister?’ Eddie blurted. ‘Is Mr Gladstone a vampire and all?’
Barford laughed. ‘Oh no. Not yet. But soon all that will change. The Lord of the Undead will have his heart,’ Barford went on, ‘be assured of that. The only other thing he craves is waiting outside. His heart’s desire, you might say.’
‘And what, pray, might that be?’ Sir William asked.
‘Please, show her in.’ Barford told Judd. ‘I think she can have the honour, the privilege of feeding on our guests. She must be hungry.’
‘Who must?’ Eddie said. He was feeling nervous enough already without the threats. He looked round desperately for a way of escape, but there was no other way out of the room.
Only the door that was opening to allow another figure to step inside.
‘Allow me to present the Lord of the Undead’s latest subject,’ Barford said. ‘His bride.’
The woman standing just inside the door was pale as death, except for her blood-red lips. She turned slowly to face Eddie and Sir William, eyes wide and unfocused. It was Liz.
CHAPTER 26
The thumping at George’s chest was an insistent shaking now. Except – it wasn’t in his chest. It was the metal box he was clutching. It juddered and shook so hard he struggled to hold on to it.
Marie was reaching out. Her eyes were deep and black. Her lips drew back and her eyes closed.
‘So hungry.’ She leaned forwards, enfolding George in her cold arms.
He felt her icy lips at his neck. He dropped the box.
It clattered to the floor, the lid springing open. Two dark shapes erupted from inside, wings battering against each other as they hurtled into the air. They climbed, turned, swooped down. One crashed into Marie’s cheek with such force it knocked her head sideways. The other was clamped to her chest as she let go of George and staggered back.
She clutched desperately at the dark shape on her face. Black wings battered against her, faster and faster.
‘Help me!’ Marie screamed, sinking to her knees and falling back.
George looked on in horror as Marie’s face disappeared beneath the frenzy of black. A spray of scarlet misted the air, spattered across the stage. A hand beat and clutched at the bare boards. A leg kicked out, spasmed.
One of the dark shapes was flapping lazily at her throat. The other circled up and flew out of sight.
Leaving Marie’s lifeless body stretched out across the stage.
‘Oh my d
ear Elizabeth,’ Sir William said, ‘what have they done to you?’
‘She has joined us,’ Barford said. ‘Just as it is time, sadly, for you both to leave. I am afraid, even though we will soon control this miserable country and its vast empire, you must take our secrets to the grave with you.’
Sir William frowned. ‘To the grave,’ he murmured, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear him. ‘Of course …’
Barford sat down behind the Prime Minister’s desk. He glanced at the gun he was still holding, then set it down on the blotter. ‘Such a remote way to kill. How much better to experience it first hand. Close, and warm.’ He waved his hand in the air – an invitation. ‘You must be hungry, my dear. They are all yours.’
Sir Harrison Judd had also stepped away to allow Liz to approach Eddie and Sir William. She had her hands raised, like talons ready to rip out their throats. There was no way they could both get past her and out of the door. Even if they could fight off the creature that Liz had become, Eddie realised, Barford would grab the gun and shoot them down.
But while there was no hope that both of them might escape … Eddie didn’t hesitate. He hurled himself at Liz, shouting at Sir William: ‘Get out, while you can. I’ll keep her busy.’
Liz grabbed him, pulling his head back. Eddie struggled to break free. He could feel her warm breath on his throat as she leaned over him. He could see Barford snatching up the gun again. Sir Harrison Judd catching hold of Sir William as the old man tried to escape – pushing him back towards Liz.
She turned, pulling Eddie with her. Then Liz pushed him away from her and grabbed for Sir William. Eddie collapsed to the floor.
As he fell, he managed to roll into Sir Harrison Judd, sending the man staggering backwards. At once, Eddie was back on his feet. He grabbed Sir William’s arm and dragged him clear of Liz. She gave a hiss of anger and disappointment as Sir William staggered after Eddie.
A gunshot tore through the frame of the door close to Eddie’s head. He pushed Sir William ahead of him and dragged the door closed.
‘There’s no key,’ he gasped.
‘Then we had better run.’
The house seemed deserted. The officials they had seen earlier had all gone home or left for the Houses of Parliament. Eddie and Sir William raced along half-remembered corridors and through hallways, emerging finally into the foggy night of Downing Street.
They stood gasping for breath on the pavement.
‘Is it true?’ Eddie asked. ‘Is Liz one of them now?’
Sir William nodded gravely. ‘I fear it is so.’ He shook his head and sighed. ‘Now that we have lost Miss Oldfield, we must find out what has happened to George.’
George was sitting on the edge of the stage, looking out into the darkened auditorium. Behind him, in a puddle of limelight, was the body of Marie Cuttler.
‘What’s happened?’ Eddie said. ‘Did the vampires get her?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ George agreed. He stood up, and Eddie was surprised how pale he looked. ‘She tried to kill me. Wanted to drink my blood.’
‘How did you stop her?’ Sir William asked. He knelt by the body. ‘This is fascinating. She has been entirely drained of blood. Already the body is dry and brittle.’
Eddie crouched down beside Sir William, and immediately saw the dark distinctive shape at the woman’s neck. ‘’Ere – look out, it’s one of them bats!’
‘Indeed it is,’ Sir William agreed. ‘But it seems quite docile, doesn’t it?’ The bat’s wings fluttered as Sir William cautiously prodded it with his finger. ‘You know, if I didn’t know better I might think that …’
‘It was the bat that killed her,’ George said, joining them.
‘Indeed. That is exactly what I might think.’
‘No, I wasn’t speculating,’ George told them. ‘It really was the bat that killed her. The two of them that were in the metal box. As soon as she got close to me. It was like they could sense her and woke up. I dropped the box, they flew out and …’ He gestured at the prone body. ‘Well, you can see.’
‘You mean they drank her blood?’ Eddie said. ‘That’s a bit of a turnaround.’
‘The other one flew off somewhere.’
‘Sated, I should think,’ Sir William said. ‘Such a capacity for blood. But perhaps the vampires don’t have much to offer. That would explain why the heart is so important, why they don’t like thin air and a lack of oxygen. They need to keep what little blood they do have as rich as possible, and replenish it frequently.’
‘So, what are you saying?’ Eddie wanted to know. ‘Bats eat vampires?’
‘Not all bats. But this bat. Where is the box?’ Sir William asked George.
George fetched it, and Sir William carefully lifted the bat from Marie’s throat. It flapped its wings in a weak protest before Sir William dropped it into the box and snapped the lid shut.
‘The Great Lie,’ Sir William said. ‘We have heard it mentioned several times. Now I think we have discovered what it is.’
‘The bats?’ Eddie asked.
‘Vampires would have us believe that they have some affinity with these bats. Perhaps they even change into them. We believed it – at the house, we thought the bats were attacking us, helping the vampires buried there. In fact, the bats were the trap that Oldfield left.’
‘They sensed the vampires,’ George said. ‘Maybe smelled their blood as they woke.’
‘And like this one and its fellow,’ Sir William patted the lid of the metal box, ‘they were dormant, waking to feed. It is fortunate they like only the rich, thick blood of the vampire or they really would have attacked us too.’
Eddie wasn’t convinced this was so useful a discovery. ‘One bat isn’t going to help much,’ he pointed out. ‘No matter how hungry it is.’
‘It’s the knowledge that is important, Eddie,’ Sir William told him. ‘Put it all together, and we may be getting somewhere.’
‘Not a moment too soon then. Tonight’s the night whatever they’re planning happens, remember? And what about Liz?.’
‘Liz!’ George leaped to his feet. ‘I should have asked you. I was too surprised and preoccupied by what happened here.’ He walked slowly and carefully across the stage. ‘I do hope she is all right. But as well as Marie …’ He paused and pointed down at the floor. ‘I found this.’
Eddie and Sir William walked over to where George was standing.
‘Careful,’ he warned them. ‘You don’t want to fall in as well.’
‘As well?’ Eddie could see as he approached that there was a hole in the stage where a trap door had opened. ‘As well as what?’
‘As well as him.’
Eddie peered into the blackness. His eyes slowly got used to it and he could make out a shape. The shape of a man. He was stretched out on his back, his eyes wide open in frozen surprise and fear. A broken spike of wood thrust up from his chest, and the dark form of a bat was flapping gently as it fed on the blood that had welled up round the wound.
‘Henry Malvern,’ George said. ‘Or whoever he really was.’ As he spoke, the body slipped further down the wooden spike. The face was ancient – cracked and crumbling away.
Sir William nodded grimly. ‘It becomes clear.’
‘Not to me it don’t,’ Eddie told him.
‘I think you had better prepare yourself for a shock, George,’ Sir William said. ‘While I think we can deduce that Liz was confronted here by Malvern and got the better of him in no uncertain terms, it appears she was bitten. And that Malvern was not alone. It may already be too late. She is well on the way to becoming a vampire.’
George sank to his knees. ‘Oh good God,’ he murmured. ‘Please tell me it isn’t true.’
‘Maybe it ain’t too late,’ Eddie said. ‘Maybe we can sort it out and make her better. She didn’t actually bite us, after all.’
‘We know,’ Sir William went on, apparently oblivious to their anxiety, ‘that they are planning some ceremony tonight, and that a part of
it at least will take place in the Palace of Westminster – at the Houses of Parliament. We also know that they do not yet have the fifth casket containing the heart of the Lord of the Undead.’
‘But how can that help Liz?’ George asked, distraught.
‘We don’t know that anything can help her,’ Sir William admitted. He put his hand on George’s shoulder and squeezed gently. ‘I am so very sorry. But you must be strong. And we all have to think about the wider situation now. About how these creatures can be stopped once and for all. And the fifth casket might give us something to bargain with.’
‘I don’t see how,’ Eddie said. ‘It’s hidden, or lost, or destroyed. We don’t have it either.’
‘Ah.’ Sir William jabbed a triumphant finger at Eddie. ‘But I know where it is.’
‘How?’ Eddie demanded.
‘Where?’ George asked at the same moment. He sounded weary, but he was making an effort to pull himself together.
‘That scoundrel Anthony Barford told us, don’t you remember?’ Sir William said to Eddie. ‘Now, I wonder if there’s anywhere in a theatre this size that they keep spades and shovels.’
‘What would they want those for?’ Eddie wondered.
‘Not what we want them for, I’ll be bound.’
‘And what is that?’ George asked.
Sir William’s spectacles flashed as they caught the limelight. ‘Grave robbing,’ he said.
The cemetery was shrouded in fog. George could feel it cloying at the back of his throat, and it muffled their voices. He held the spade tight, aware that he might have to use it as a weapon. His body was tense with dread and anger. He couldn’t get the image of Liz out of his mind. Perhaps, despite Sir William’s fears, it was not too late to save her.
‘Anthony Barford said we would take their secrets to our graves, you recall, Eddie?’
‘I do, yeah.’ Eddie was carrying Oldfield’s metal box, clutching it tight to his chest like a talisman.
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