Gargoyle Hall

by Angie Sage

  The Blue Vulture was carrying Miss Gargoyle’s precious school register! Now I knew what that ladder had been for. They had climbed up to Matron’s room and stolen it.

  I felt so cross that I jumped out from behind the column and yelled, “Hey! Give that back!”

  The Yellow Vulture shrieked, but the Blue Vulture was made of tougher stuff. She laughed. “Oh hello, weed. Decided to come back have you? Well, you’re too late, ha ha!”

  Now, every Chief Detective knows that when a Prime Suspect has something dangerous that you have to get hold of—like a gun or something—you have to be calm, call them by their name and speak very slowly. So that is what I did. “Now, Vile,” I said, “just give me the register. You know perfectly well that it doesn’t belong to you. You know it is school property.”

  The Blue Vulture gave a horrible cackle and stuck her beak in my face. “Ha ha! Like I said, weed, you’re too late. There isn’t a school any more, so how can it have any property?” Then she ran off up the steps and into Gargoyle Hall with the Yellow Vulture close behind. As the doors swung closed Wanda and I heard a horrible crash.

  “Sir Horace!” we both said.

  We found Sir Horace’s armour scattered across the chequerboard floor. We could see the real ghost of Sir Horace transparent and shimmering, standing in the middle of the pile of metal. He was tall and thin, wearing a tunic and long-sleeved shirt, and he was staring down at all the bits of metal strewn around his feet. Fang was beside him, his mouth hanging open and his ghostly fangs glimmering with ghostly dog-spit.

  “Ghosts, Vile!” the Yellow Vulture shrieked.

  The Blue Vulture didn’t say anything. She just clutched the school register close to her and looked kind of shocked.

  Amazingly, it was Edmund who really terrified them. Edmund did look good. He was glowing a very spooky green and was floating two feet off the floor just like a ghost should. Suddenly he began to do a proper ghostly moan. “Oh, Sir Horace … Oh, Sir Horace …” His weedy ghostly voice echoed around the entrance hall. It was so spooky it even gave me goosebumps.

  The Vultures were petrified. “Aaaaargh!” they both screamed.

  “Grrrrr,” growled Fang.

  “Oh … Sir Horace …” moaned Edmund.

  “Run for it, Foul!” yelled the Blue Vulture, and they headed towards the front doors. But there was no way Chief Detective Spook was going to let her Prime Suspects escape.

  I jumped in front of them, waggled my arms and went “Booooo!” like a real ghost would do.

  “Aaaaargh!” they screamed again. They skidded to a halt, but before I could grab the school register they were off, racing towards the big stairs that go up to the classrooms.

  “I’ll get them!” yelled Mathilda. She sprinted after them, but one of her little pointy shoes got caught in one of Sir Horace’s big pointy feet and she went crashing to the ground. The Vultures were going up the stairs now and I knew that in a moment they would disappear into the depths of the school and we would never find them or the register again.

  I headed after them but a stupid pink rabbit grabbed hold of me. “No!” it said. “I’ve a much better idea.”

  “Let go!” I told the rabbit. But it wouldn’t. It had a surprisingly tough grip for a pink rabbit.

  “Edmund!” it yelled.

  “I am here … Wanda …” Edmund said in his moany voice as he wafted towards us.

  “Edmund. Chase those horrible girls and herd them into a cupboard or somewhere where they can’t escape.”

  “Yes … Wanda,” said her faithful sidekick.

  I have to admit that was a very good plan and I was surprised that I hadn’t thought of it first. But I suppose that is why a Chief Detective needs a sidekick—eventually they will do something useful. I just hoped Edmund was up to the job. “Stand guard over them, Edmund,” I told him. “And don’t let the school register out of your sight. Do you understand?”

  “I … understand,” Edmund said and he zoomed off after the Vultures, waving his arms around and moaning in a really brilliant ghostly way. It was the best moan I have ever heard (and living with Wanda, I hear quite a few moans, I can tell you).

  The Vultures turned around and saw Edmund coming straight for them. They gave a piercing double-Vulture screech and raced off, clicketty-clacketty up the wide, sweeping stairs.

  “Go, Edmund!” Wanda yelled. “Go, go, go!”

  The Vulture screams got fainter and fainter as Edmund chased them deeper into Gargoyle Hall. Then we heard a door slam and there was silence.

  “He’s done it!” Wanda exclaimed. “Isn’t Edmund clever?”

  Now, any good detective knows that you cannot rely on weedy ghosts to do what you ask them to. “I think we ought to check,” I said.

  “But we need to hurry,” said Mathilda, hopping around, still trying to get her shoe out of Sir Horace’s foot. “It’s dark now and the Beast might soon be out.”

  “Ooh …” said Wanda.

  “Miss Spook!” A ghostly boom came from right beside me. I got such a shock that I nearly did a Vulture screech. It was Sir Horace, looking shockingly ghostly out of his suit of armour. “Allow me to be of assistance. I will attend to my page.”

  “Oh, thank you, Sir Horace,” I said. I knew I could trust Sir Horace to stop the Vultures escaping.

  “And for your protection, Miss Spook, I leave you my trusty hound and my sword.” With that he bowed and walked away, his long thin feet floating just above the ground. It was so different from seeing Sir Horace clanking around in his armour that it made me feel quite shivery.

  Now it was time for Chief Detective Spook to follow her hunch. My hunch—and you will be really surprised about this—was not, as Wanda thought, that the Beast of Gargoyle Hall was the Vulture’s pet. It was that the Beast actually was the Vultures inside some kind of Beast suit. But like all detectives, I needed evidence. Evidence is what you need to prove that a suspect has done something, even if they say they haven’t. I reckoned I knew just the place to find the evidence we needed—the Vultures’ room. And with the Vultures out of the way, now was the perfect time to look for it.

  Gargoyle Hall was a big place, but luckily Mathilda knew her way around. She led us up some dark, winding stairs with rickety bannisters. Even though Sir Horace’s sword was really heavy, I was glad I had it—it made me feel adventurous. Up and up we climbed with Fang following us, lighting the way with his ghostly green glow. At last we got to the floor below the attic and Mathilda led us on to a landing just like the one at the end of our corridor, with a phone and a trunk lift. There were lots of dark, creepy corridors leading off and Mathilda chose the darkest and the creepiest. Even when she switched on the lights it was still creepy, because the lights were not very bright and there were lots of shadows. I was glad we knew we were not going to bump into the Vultures.

  Because of my hunch, I was pretty sure we were not going to bump into the Beast either, but Wanda wasn’t. She held my arm in a tight rabbit-grasp and whispered, “Suppose the Vultures’ pet is missing them, Araminta? Suppose it decides to come and look for them?”

  “Don’t be silly, Wanda,” I whispered. “The Beast is not their pet.” But the spooky gloom was getting to me and I did not feel as sure as I sounded.

  The corridor had lots of little doors opening off it, which were the rooms for the senior girls. Above each one was a window and most of the windows had pictures stuck in them—to stop people jumping up and looking in, Mathilda said. Soon we came to a door that I knew at once belonged to the Vultures’ room—it had pictures of ghouls and zombies in its window.

  We stopped outside the ghoul door and listened. Fang sat down and put his head on one side, listening too. It was very quiet.

  “Maybe the Beastly is asleep,” whispered Wanda.

  “Stoppit, Wanda,” I said. “The Beast is not asleep.”

  Wanda did her googly-eyed stare. “You mean it’s awake?”

  “No, I don’t mean that,” I hissed. But W
anda was beginning to scare me. Suppose she was right? Suppose that the Vultures did have a pet Beast? And suppose it really was inside their room, waiting for them to come back?

  “Go on, then, Araminta.” Wanda gave me a push.

  “If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you?”

  “But you are the one with the sword, Araminta.”

  So I gave the sword to Wanda. “Not any more.”

  “But I don’t want it,” said Wanda, trying to give it back to me.

  “Girls!” said Mathilda. “Stop arguing. Give the sword to me, Wanda. We’re going in!” With that she pushed open the door and stepped inside, sword at the ready. Fang raced in and then Wanda and me tiptoed in after her.

  “Oh no!” Wanda gasped. “The Beastly has wrecked the place.”

  The room was trashed. It looked like someone had got a huge bin of rubbish and thrown it all around. But Mathilda wasn’t bothered at all. “Oh, lots of girls’ rooms look like this,” she said. “You two stand guard by the door and I will search.”

  “What do we do when you find the Beastly and it tries to escape?” Wanda asked nervously.

  “You and Araminta will have to stop it,” said Mathilda, edging through the piles of rubbish, poking at them with the sword, while Fang stayed right beside her like the faithful hound he was.

  By now Wanda had really spooked me and I was thinking she was right—the Beast of Gargoyle Hall was the Vultures’ pet. It was hiding somewhere, waiting for them to come back, and it wasn’t going to like being poked by a pointy sword one bit.

  “Do you think it has very big teeth, Araminta?” Wanda whispered.

  “Stoppit, Wanda,” I hissed.

  We watched Mathilda poke Sir Horace’s sword under the beds, stab it at the curtains and all the piles of clothes until the only place she hadn’t poked the sword into was the wardrobe. And the wardrobe was, I reckoned, just the right size for a pet Beast.

  But Sir Horace’s sword was making Mathilda brave. She threw open the wardrobe door and jumped back. A big black furry thing fell out and Wanda screamed. I screamed too, just a little bit, but not nearly as loud as Wanda did.

  We all stared at the pile of black fur on the floor.

  “Is it dead?” Wanda whispered.

  Mathilda poked it with the sword. “It was never alive.”

  “Oh,” said Wanda, sounding disappointed. “So it’s not the Beastly?”

  “No.” Mathilda picked up the black furry stuff and began shoving it back in the wardrobe. “It’s not.”

  But at last Chief Detective Spook stopped being spooked by her sidekick and remembered her hunch. “Yes it is!” I said. “That is the Beast of Gargoyle Hall!”

  “Don’t be silly, Araminta,” Mathilda said grumpily. “It’s just load of fake fur.”

  Now, I have a Ghost Kit at home and I can recognise a Beast Kit when I see one. I waded through all the mess, got hold of the fur and held it up. My hunch had been right all along. It was a big and furry Beast suit with four long arms and just the right size for two thin Vultures to fit into.

  Wanda gasped. “It is dead! Someone’s chopped its head off!”

  “No they haven’t,” I said. I crawled into the wardrobe and began to rummage through the junk at the back. I soon found what I was looking for: a huge lumpy thing with a fat snout, big pointy ears and fantastic long, curved teeth like tusks. I had found the head of the Beast of Gargoyle Hall! I felt around inside it and found two switches, then I pushed the head out of the wardrobe door and switched them on. It was great. The eyes shone red and an ear-splitting roar echoed into the room.

  “RAAAAAAAAARRRR!”

  Wanda shrieked, Fang barked and even Mathilda yelled, which was fun.

  I scrambled out of the wardrobe and while Wanda and Mathilda held up the suit, I put the head on top of it. It really did look frightening. I was impressed.

  “I wonder which Vulture wore it?” said Wanda.

  “I expect they took turns,” said Mathilda.

  But Chief Detective Spook had worked it out. “No they didn’t. They both wore it at the same time. See, it’s got four arms and the head is really wide—it’s a twin suit!”

  “I don’t know why,” Mathilda said, “but that is very creepy.”

  She was right. It was.

  I felt really pleased. Spook’s Detective Agency had done it again. It had solved the Mystery of the Beast of Gargoyle Hall.

  “Now,” I said, “we can take the suit to Miss Gargoyle to prove that it really was the Vultures and that the Beast of Gargoyle Hall is gone for ever.”

  “And Miss Gargoyle can get everyone to come back to the school,” Wanda said excitedly. Normally it really annoys me when Wanda finishes what I am saying, but I was so pleased that my hunch was right that I didn’t mind at all. “And Araminta and I can dress up as the Beastly when we go and see Miss Gargoyle,” Wanda said. “And then she can see how really, really scary it is!”

  “No, Wanda. You and Araminta cannot dress up as the Beast,” Mathilda said. “The poor woman has had enough frights for one day.”

  I knew Mathilda was right, but even so, it would have been fun.

  We set off to see Miss Gargoyle. I carried the Beast head, Wanda had Sir Horace’s sword, Mathilda took the suit and Fang led the way. The senior girls’ corridor did not look half as scary as it had before, but halfway along Fang suddenly stopped and I saw the ghostly hairs on the back of his neck go up like a brush. Then he opened his mouth, threw back his head and let out an amazingly blood-curdling howl. “Arrooooooooooh!”

  I felt a shiver go all over me. There is something very eerie about Fang’s howl.

  Wanda looked scared. “Why is Fang howling?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s very strange. Fang only ever howls at Uncle Drac’s bats. Shush, Fang. Shush!”

  But Fang would not shush. “Arroooooooh!”

  “Araminta,” Wanda shouted over the howl. “I can hear screaming. Can you?”

  I could certainly hear something. And when I listened hard I realised that Wanda was right.

  “It’s the Vultures,” said Wanda.

  “They’re coming this way,” Mathilda said. “I can hear their shoes.”

  So could we. The clicketty-clackettys were almost as loud as the screams now.

  Wanda looked really scared. “What shall we doooo?”

  “What’s the problem?” I said. “The Vultures are finished. We know what they’ve been doing and we’ve got the Beast suit to prove it.”

  “But they are bigger than us,” Wanda said. “And much nastier. Supposing they take the Beastly away from us. Then no one will believe us.”

  “There’s no point risking it,” Mathilda said. “We’ll hide in this bathroom. Come on!” she said, pushing open a nearby door. We headed into the bathroom, but Fang wouldn’t come; he just stayed in the corridor howling.

  “Arrooooooooooooooooh!”

  The trouble with a ghost hound is you can’t get hold of its collar and take it with you—you have to persuade it to come. So I went outside to do that. And I wished I hadn’t.

  At the end of the corridor I saw the Vultures outlined against the bright lights on the landing. I couldn’t see Edmund at all. But what I could see looming up behind them was the horrible shape of a massive monster. It was so tall that, as the Vultures hurtled into our corridor, it filled the entire space, right up to the ceiling.

  “Oh no!” I yelled.

  “What is it?” Wanda’s quivery voice asked from inside the bathroom.

  “It’s the real Beast of Gargoyle Hall,” I said. “And it’s coming our way!”

  Fang hurtled off towards the Beast, howling as he went, “Arrooooooooooh, arroooooooooooooooooh!”

  The Vultures skidded to a halt. They were trapped: a horrible Vulture sandwich between a slavering wolfhound ghost in front of them and the Beast of Gargoyle Hall right behind them.

  “Quick!” hissed Mathilda. “Fang will keep them at
bay and we can get away down the fire escape at the end of the corridor.” And she headed off.

  Wanda went to follow her but I grabbed her rabbit collar. “No!” I said. “Wait!”

  Chief Detective Spook had been adding up some evidence. I had been thinking about a particular page in the Beastly Bats book and also about what Uncle Drac had said in the van. At the sight of the real Beast, I had what detectives call a breakthrough—I suddenly realised what it was. It was the cute little blue bat that had stowed away in my trunk. It was the bat that had caused all the trouble back at home. It was a rare and deadly Transylvanian werebat. Wow!

  “Wanda—get in the bathroom!” I yelled.

  “What?” Wanda looked horrified.

  “Please, Wanda,” I said. “It’s really important. Get in the bathroom. Close the door but don’t lock it. OK?”

  Sometimes Wanda is a good sidekick because she does understand when there is a real emergency. And this one was real, that was for sure. “All right, Araminta,” she said.

  “Take the shower snakey thingy off the bath, get the shower running really fast with cold water and be ready to point it at the door.”

  “OK.” Wanda nodded. She looked really serious.

  “The first person to come in will be me, then the Vultures and then the Beast. Spray the Beast with the shower as hard as you can. OK?”

  “OK. Can I spray the Vultures too?”

  “Beast first. Then Vultures. Ready?”

  “Ready!” Wanda scooted into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  I took a deep breath and headed up the corridor towards Fang, the Vultures and the werebat. I didn’t mind getting closer to the Vultures, but I did mind getting so near the werebat. It was horrible. It had huge blue furry wings with curved claws at the end of them, tiny orange eyes and lots of very sharp, pointy teeth. It was homing in on the Vultures’ hair and they had their hands on their heads, screaming, “No! No!”

  I almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

  Now came the scary part—I had to get the werebat to follow me. And to do that I had to get its attention, which was never going to happen with the Vultures screaming and Fang howling like a mad wolf. I remembered the word Sir Horace uses to make Fang do as he is told. “Fang,” I said. “Fidelis. Quiet please.”