by T. H. Hunter
“I’m certain of it, Amy,” said Val. “Trust me. Patrick isn’t the killer.”
Chapter 11
“But it doesn’t make any sense,” I said, desperately clinging to a solution I knew that was wrong. “It just has to be you.”
“I’m afraid it’s not me, Amy,” said Patrick.
I looked down at Barry. But even Barry, whose well-known dislike hardly inclined him to defend Patrick, looked unconvinced. He stared back at me, the rain pelting down on his little head, making his ears sag. Slowly, he shook his head. Once. Twice.
“Just a minute,” said Patrick, looking at Barry in astonishment. “Did your cat just shake his head?”
“It’s a long story,” Val began. “He really isn’t…”
“Careful, Val,” I said in a warning voice.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” she said. “I forgot he wasn’t a… you know what.”
“Forgot I was what?” asked Patrick, his curiosity growing by the minute.
“We don’t have time for this,” I said. “The real killer is still on the loose.”
“But it could be anyone now,” Val said miserably. “Anyone from the committee, or Williams, or Mr. Brown himself. Even someone from the mainland.”
“We’ve got to think of something fast,” I said.
“I don’t want to point the finger back at me,” said Patrick, “but didn’t you say something about an inheritance?”
And then, realisation finally dawned on me. It had all become as clear as daylight. I had been stupid not to see it before. I only hoped that nobody had to pay for my foolish mistake, for wasting time confronting Patrick when the real culprits were still at large.
“Come on,” I said. “I know who it is. We’ve got to get back to the lighthouse immediately. There’s not a minute to be lost.”
I ran as fast as my feet would carry me up the hill toward the hotel and the lighthouse. Barry, Patrick, and Val were on my heels. I wanted to explain, but there wasn’t a second to be spared. We had wasted enough time as it was. I only hoped that it wasn’t too late.
“Amy, what’s going on?” said Val, hurrying alongside me and panting to keep up.
“Remember what Mrs. Haughton said, right at the beginning? The past is the future in reverse. And that it would lead to death. I couldn’t make any sense of it at the time.”
“I still can’t think of what she…”
“And then the other thing,” I continued, as if in a fever. “Father and daughter. Daughter and father. Hatred. That’s the key, Val! That’s the inheritance Bolton had mentioned in his recording. He wasn’t just talking about an inheritance of money. It was another kind of inheritance.”
We had almost reached the lighthouse by now. Its mighty beam was doing its best to cut through the rain that continued to pelt onto the little island. Waiting for Patrick and Barry to catch up, Val and I came to a halt.
“Why do you think Mr. Brown went to prison all those years ago?” I said, turning to Val. “A crime so awful that his own daughter wouldn’t even speak of it. Murder. Double murder, in fact. You were right all along, Val. Brown must have changed his name after he got out of prison.”
“But Amy, I still don’t understand…”
Barry and Patrick had just caught up with us.
“Come on, there’s no time to lose,” I said.
Retracing my steps from a few hours earlier, I entered the lighthouse once again. This time, the door was already open. Once again, the stench of mouldy dampness greeted us as we entered. Mr. Brown’s wheelchair stood at the foot of the stairs. He was already there. I tip-toed up the stairs as quietly as I could, indicating to the others behind me to do the same. I could already hear voices from above.
Behind me, Val suddenly gave off a muffled cry as something cracked horribly. She was holding her ankle in pain, doing her best not to shout. She collapsed onto the stairs, holding both hands to it.
“What’s wrong?” I hissed. “Val, are you OK?”
“I slipped and…” whispered Val, her face screwed up. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be silly,” Barry hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “That ankle is broken. We’ve got to get Valerie out of here immediately.”
Patrick looked at him as though he had gone mad.
“Amy, your cat… your cat just… he said something!”
“Sorry, Patrick, we don’t have time,” I said. “Please, take Val out of here. Go to the hotel and make sure everybody’s safe.”
Patrick, still looking utterly dazed by what he had just witnessed, knew better than to argue right now. With surprising strength for such a lean man, he lifted Val cleanly from the stairs and carefully made his way down again.
“Come on, we’ve got to move faster,” I whispered to Barry.
We hurried up as fast as we could. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of suspense, we reached the top of the stairs. I held out my hand to signal to Barry that we weren’t alone up here. A male voice was speaking. A voice that I recognised to be Mr. Brown’s.
“Give it BACK,” he bellowed. “Right this instance.”
“Or what, old man’?” asked a harsh female voice.
Still perched on the stairs, I lifted my head a little to get a closer look at the scene. At the far end of the circular lamp room, Mr. Brown was lying on the floor near an open glass door that led outside. The icy wind was coming in through, whistling ominously as it did so. A pair of crutches lay next to Mr. Brown, and his legs were spread uselessly on the ground. His face was red with rage, though the sweat on his face revealed a fear I’d never imagined ever seeing there.
In the middle of the room, I could make out the outline of a woman. She was standing behind the complex system of lamps and lenses that hurled the powerful beam of light out into the sea beyond. I was momentarily blinded by the brightness as it passed by. But as my eyes readjusted and the purring machinery rotated the beam of light away from me, I could see the figure standing there more clearly.
It was Jane McQuinn. I hadn’t recognised her voice at all. It sounded very different somehow. But her entire appearance was altered. There was a fury in her eyes, a look of hatred. And she was holding a wand, pointing it directly at Mr. Brown’s heart.
“You don’t understand the device,” Jane McQuinn said. “It is far beyond your comprehension and abilities, old man. You’ve stolen it from a world you never knew existed. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“I want it back where it belongs,” he growled. “And I’m not going to get stopped by a couple of schoolgirls.”
“Now, now,” Jane said nastily. “Manners.”
And then, without warning, she flicked her wand in his direction in an almost casual manner, muttering a spell under her breath. Mr. Brown’s massive body was flung backward with such force that his head was knocked against the wall behind him. For a while, I thought he might have been knocked out, though he began to growl softly again, like a wounded animal.
“I can do much more horrible things to you,” Jane said, malice etched across her young face.
“What do you want from me?” he said, holding a hand to his bleeding head. “You want that device?”
“Oh, that’s just a bonus,” Jane said, slowly walking towards him.
“What do you want, then?” he said angrily. “To see a cripple on the floor? To see him die before your eyes?”
“Quite right,” said Jane pleasantly. “That is what we have come to see, isn’t it, Vanessa?”
And from the other end of the room – unseen to Barry and me – her sister emerged from a corner. She had the same cold look on her face as sister did. It sent an icy chill down my spine just to watch them.
“McQuinn is such a nice name, isn’t it?” Vanessa said, joining her sister. “But you know, my mother had quite a different name. She was called Asquith. You might remember that name, Mr. Brown. Or should I call you Mr. Jenkins?”
“No, it can’t be,” spluttered Mr. Brown. “That was too long. Y
ou can’t be…”
“Peter Asquith was our father,” said Jane, caressing her wand as she spoke. “And you killed him with your own bare hands fifty years ago.”
“It can’t be,” he said. “You’re too young to be his daughters.”
“Ah,” said Vanessa. “Magic is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Hides wrinkles quite well, you know.”
“Prolonging youth is quite the asset, I assure you,” Jane said, nodding. “But you would understand that, Mr. Brown, wouldn’t you? That’s what you got from the hexanomitron. The device provided you with almost superhuman strength for many years.”
“How did you find me?” he said.
“Oh, it wasn’t easy,” said Jane McQuinn conversationally. “Who would have thought that you had the gall to return here, of all places? Vanessa and I couldn’t believe it. But my mother knew. She didn’t believe in revenge, did she, Vanessa? She lied to us. She told us that our father had in fact died in an accident. But finally, a few months ago, on her deathbed, she told us the truth. That you had killed him. And how you had manipulated the hexanomitron. Not bad – for a heb. At least, as long as it worked. But just look at you now. A weak, pathetic cripple on the floor.”
“I would have repaired it!” bellowed Mr. Brown, trying but failing to support his useless legs. “I was close. If you hadn’t stolen it from me I’d rip every limb from your little…”
“Oh, but we brought it back for you, Mr. Brown,” said Vanessa, a menacing sweetness in her voice. “You will get your chance.”
She lifted her wand.
“Turn on the hexanomitron, dear sister,” Jane ordered.
Vanessa opened another door leading outside and vanished.
“You’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve repaired it for you,” Jane continued. “The device is outside as we speak, levitated in mid-air only a few yards away. Once it has been turned on, you will be able to stand again. To fight like you did all those years ago. But I must warn you, Mr. Brown, my spells will also be amplified. I’m curious to see what effects some of them have on you. I can imagine they will be rather more painful than usual.”
Mr. Brown’s face stood still in shock as all the colour drained from it. He was not a man who was easily intimidated, but I could see that he was beginning to panic.
“Wait,” he said quickly, switching gears. “That was all a lie they told you. It didn’t happen the way they said it did at the trial. It was self-defence. Both deaths. They banged me up all the same. I paid my price to society, didn’t I?”
“Not to us, you haven’t,” said Jane viciously. “We’ll never get our father back. So I don’t see why you should enjoy a quiet pension here, either.”
I felt a pulse rush through my wand. A moment later, Vanessa returned into the room. She nodded her head briefly to her sister. The hexanomitron was on.
“Consider this a parting gift from our late father,” said Jane, pointing her wand at him.
She fired a spell at him but I was ready for it. I directed a spell at her wand arm that knocked her back several feet, making her miss her shot by a large margin. She looked around wildly for the source of the intrusion.
“You,” she screamed. “You don’t understand. Get out of my way. You will not stand in the way of justice!”
“I can’t let you do that,” I said.
But her sister Vanessa – unable to contain herself – had already rushed across the room and was on top of Mr. Brown, punching and kicking every inch she could find. I shot a body-binding hex at her, but missed. Jane, meanwhile, had regained her position and fired a curse at me, which almost hit my upper shoulder. I ducked for cover.
But Mr. Brown, incredibly, had regained strength from the hexanomitron. He hurled a punch at Vanessa that sent her flying across the room. Jane, crying in anguish, was sending hex after hex at him, but to little avail. Somehow, he was channelling some sort of energy to repel the magic. Some of the spells hit him, though they weren’t enough to stop him, while others just bounced off him.
Jane McQuinn’s face went white as the seriousness of her miscalculation dawned on her. Mr. Brown, though still shaky on his two legs, was coming closer and closer, trying to corner them in front of the glass door that led outside. With nowhere else to go, Vanessa and Jane McQuinn hurried out into the open.
I looked at Barry. He stared back at me, frightened yet determined. We had to put an end to the bloodshed. I edged forward, aiming a body-binding curse at Mr. Brown. But as with Jane’s spells, they simply bounced off his back.
“Stop, Mr. Brown,” I shouted.
But he wouldn’t listen. He had reached the door that led outside now. The twins were trapped outside, with nowhere else to go.
“We’ve got to turn off the hexanomitron,” I said.
As quickly as I could, I skidded across the floor towards one of the doors that led outside. The platform ran around the entire room like a ring. Only a narrow railing prevented a fall right down to the sharp cliffs below. I shuddered, trying to force myself to not look down.
Barry cursed under his breath.
“It must be at the other side,” he said. “Quickly.”
We raced along the platform as fast as we dared amidst the heavy downpour of rain. And there, in the distance, a long, dark shaft was floating in mid-air, bobbing in the rough winds as though they were simply a light breeze. But as we approached, Vanessa and Jane McQuinn appeared from the other side, blocking our path to the hexanomitron, their backs to us. They were doing their best to fend off Mr. Brown’s attacks.
With a ferocious blow, Mr. Brown lunged at Vanessa, but she dodged to the side. Jane was wildly pelting curse after curse at him, but still to no avail. Then, in an unprecedented display of speed, Mr. Brown suddenly launched his massive body forwards, pinning Vanessa to the side of the railing.
“Turn the thing off, Jane, and kill him,” shrieked Vanessa.
But there was no time. Mr. Brown had closed a powerful hand around Vanessa’s neck. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jane rushed at him. But in her haste, she had underestimated the wet surface on the platform. She slipped, skidding uncontrollably towards Mr. Brown. As she crashed into him, she instinctively held the wand in front of her, bellowing:
“Dispergo!”
Where the wand had failed at a distance, it now performed on direct contact. With an ear-splitting bang, the curse blasted Mr. Brown out of the way with such force that it sent him toppling over the railing. But he still had an iron grip on Vanessa, who was yanked down with him, helplessly clutching at thin air.
In a desperate effort to save her, Jane lunged forward, grabbing Vanessa’s outstretched hand. But the weight of both Mr. Brown and Vanessa falling was too much for her.
“Let go,” I shouted.
But Jane wouldn’t listen. I shot a levitation charm at her to prevent the fall, but it was too late. Jane had toppled out of sight, and followed Mr. Brown and her sister into the darkness below.
Chapter 12
A week later, Val, Barry, and I were back safely at Fickleton House. The bodies of Mr. Brown, Vanessa, and Jane had been recovered the day after the events up at the lighthouse. After that, we had spent a few days in London, giving evidence for the MLE inquiry that was fully under way.
Though the physical pressure had subsided quickly enough at the wonderfully warm firesides of Fickleton House and with the very tasty food that Mrs. Faversham provided, I couldn’t forget what had happened so easily.
Though it by no means justified the twins’ actions, I understood the pain of losing one’s parents. How would I have felt if I had suddenly found out that my father had been murdered and that the perpetrator was still out and about? Would I be sensible and contact the authorities, or would I take matters into my own hands? Luckily, I didn’t have to answer that question. Like Val and Barry, I could feel safe and secure in a theoretical code of conduct that wouldn’t be fully put to the test. And hopefully never would be.
“But what I still don’t unders
tand,” said Val, as we were having breakfast one fine Saturday morning at Fickleton House, “is why Mr. Brown could walk again. I thought he’d been in a wheelchair for years.”
“Because he was particularly attuned to the powers of the hexanomitron,” said Barry. “It’s very rare for a heb, but not unheard of. He must have noticed its effects on him by accident when he first came to the island as a guest.”
“But why did he kill those people all those years ago?” asked Val. “In the lighthouse, I mean.”
“We’ll probably never truly know why he killed the first man,” said Barry, shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps Brown was simply tempted to use his new powers. But as for the second victim – Peter Asquith – there’s no doubt that he was there to investigate. MLE bungled the follow-up investigation at the time, as they simply assumed that a mad heb had gone on a rampage. Which, I suppose, was part of the truth.”
“But Brown also wanted to conceal the whereabouts of the hexanomitron,” I said.
“Yes,” said Barry. “He must have instinctively understood the value of such a device and sought to cover it up at all costs. That’s why he remained quiet at the trial. And of course, once he was released, he did everything in his power to gain full control of the island.”
“But all of this happened so many years ago,” said Val. “The twins were hardly of age. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“They made themselves look younger through magic,” said Barry. “It’s not permanent, so they’d have to redo it every morning.”
“Sort of like make-up,” said Val, grinning.
“A little more sophisticated than that, Valerie,” said Barry huffily. “But yes, I suppose that is a fitting analogy.”
“Well, they certainly played their part well,” I said. “I didn’t suspect them ‘til the very end.”
“How did you think of them, Amy?” asked Val.
“Well, it was Mrs. Haughton’s prophecy, really,” I said, pondering the issue. “Her warnings about death and danger were clear enough, but the other things bothered me.”
