by Tony Telford
She gave me a big mug of coffee, really strong and sweet, just the way I like it, and put out a plate piled with chocolate biscuits, each one wrapped in gold foil. Soon I’d forgotten my shyness and was telling her the whole story about O’Hare.
After I’d finished, she sat for a few moments nibbling a biscuit. ‘So how old is this guy?’
‘About eighteen, I guess, but he seems older.’
Do you think he’s attracted to you? I mean, these obsessions are often about sex, aren’t they.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s possible. But I don’t think so, somehow.’
‘Well, whatever the reason, what he’s doing is basically stalking. I guess you know that’s a criminal offence. Have you thought about going to the police?’
‘We don’t want to do that. You see, this house where we’re living—it’s not ours. We’re squatting.’
‘Oh, okay,’ she said, still smiling. ‘Well, shall we have a look at this paste?’
I took the plastic bag out of my satchel and handed it to her. It was one of those lunch-bags with an airtight seal. You could see the little dollop of gunk in one corner.
Sarah opened the bag a little bit and took a quick sniff. ‘Ugh! That’s foul. That’s truly foul.’ She quickly resealed the bag. ‘So no one’s fallen ill because of this?’
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ She jotted something down. ‘Pearly, can you leave this with me for a day or two? If you come back, say, on Friday I might have some info for you. Or you can call me. Here’s my card.’
‘Oh, thank you so much!’ I could hardly believe that she was taking it all so seriously. ‘I hope it won’t be too much bother?’
‘No, no, don’t worry. I’ll just do a few simple tests. Nothing too sophisticated. But, you know, even if I find out what this stuff is, it’s not really going to solve your problem with that O’Hare guy.’
‘I know. My friends said the same thing. I just…oh, I don’t know, I just somehow thought it might be a good idea…’ I knew I sounded a bit scatty, but I didn’t want to tell her the real reason—that I’d come because something, some feeling I couldn’t put my finger on, had convinced me that this was the right thing to do.
Sarah just looked at me and smiled. ‘Here, take the rest of these biscuits for your friends.’
12
By the time I got back to Blackbird House it was already dark. As soon as I walked into the Octagon Room, I knew something else had happened. Everyone was just sitting there in silence. No one even seemed to want to look at me.
‘What is it?’ I said.
‘Boo’s gone,’ said Matty.
‘What—run off?’
‘No. Someone’s taken her.’
I felt like I was falling, sinking down through the earth. ‘How…how do you know?’
‘It’s my fault, Pearly,’ Jean blurted out. ‘I took ’er to the park and I let ’er go wandering off around the bushes. But I only took my eyes off ’er for a minute, I swear. She just vanished.’
‘So she did run off, then?’ I was trying to concentrate but the room was spinning like a carousel.
‘Nah,’ Matty shook his head savagely. ‘She didn’t run off—No, shut up, Jean. Just let me tell her what happened. —Jean came back and told us she’d lost Boo, so we all went looking for her. Been out all day, haven’t we. Looked high and low. Couldn’t find her anywhere, so we came back here. That’s when we found this.’ He held up a phone. ‘Someone put it through the letterbox.’
‘In this envelope,’ said Miri. She showed me a brown envelope with the words ‘To whom it may concern’ written in black ink. It was the same spidery handwriting I’d found in my History notebook.
‘It’s him.’ I could hardly speak. I felt hot and feverish. ‘And the phone—is there a message?’
‘A video,’ said Matty.
‘You don’t wanna see that, Pearly,’ said Jean. She swung round to Matty. ‘I told you!’
‘Has he done something to Boo? Give me that.’ I snatched the phone from Matty and tapped the Video icon on the screen. Matty tried to take the phone again but I wheeled away from him. A title appeared on the screen: ‘The Travailes of Boo: The Tragicall Tail (ho! ho!) of a Woebegone Whippett.’ I touched Play, and there was Boo, sitting in what looked like the inside of a washing machine. She kept moving her head from side to side like a wild animal in a cage. Then she stood up and sniffed at the camera lens and for a moment I could see her face right up close. Then blackness, and some words in white: ‘Dogs = furry configurations of matter.’ There was another shot of Boo. This time she was lying on her side in the strange drum-shaped container. Her eyes were closed. She wasn’t moving. She didn’t even seem to be breathing. Then blackness again and just two words: ‘Configurations disperse.’ And that was it. ‘Replay?’ said the screen. ‘Replay or choose another video?’
The phone dropped and a long wail of sorrow rose out of me like a cold rushing wind. Then Miri’s arms were round me, holding me tight, and she was saying my name again and again, like a mother with a child. ‘Pearly, Pearly, Pearly.’
‘I told you, Matty,’ shouted Jean. ‘I told you not to let ’er see it.’
‘Leave it,’ he muttered.
‘Oh yeah, now the damage is done—’
‘I said leave it. She had to know.’
‘She didn’t ’ave to see that, did she? But you always think you know best—’
‘Shut up, both of you,’ said Miri.
I was trying to pull myself together. ‘Is there anything else on the phone?’
‘That’s all,’ said Matty. ‘I’ve checked pretty carefully. Looks like it’s never been used for anything else. But don’t you worry, we’re gonna find this creep. I promise you.’
Draemon was pacing up and down. ‘Yeah. Then give me two minutes alone with ’im. Just two minutes.’
Jean laughed scornfully. ‘Oh, yeah? And what’s that gonna solve?’
Miri brushed the wet hair away from my eyes. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said softly. ‘Boo’s okay. I just know it.’
Then Hooky came with a mug. ‘Here, Pearly, would you like some tea?’
Later, when I’d calmed down a bit and we’d all had something to eat, we talked about what we should do. Search the streets? Put up posters with Boo’s picture? Make a website? Each new idea seemed more hopeless than the last. In the end we gave up trying to think of anything and just sat in gloomy silence, overwhelmed by the impossibility of finding one small whippet in an endless city. Sometime after three, when the fire had died and everyone was yawning their head off and we all looked like a bunch of seedy, long-faced ghosts, we slunk off to our own corners of the house without even bothering to say goodnight. I could hardly drag myself up the stairs, and yet as soon as I lay down on that mattress I knew I wouldn’t sleep. Hour after hour I lay there, watching shadows parade across the wall like troupes of strange, silent beasts. Occasionally I heard footsteps in the street. She was out there somewhere, my lovely Boo. Was she still in that box thing? Had he given her anything to eat or drink? Or was it already too late?
Around five, the hum of the City got fainter and for a while there was almost silence. Then suddenly there was a rattling on the window—my old friend the rain. I wrapped myself in a blanket and went and sat on the window ledge. It was pouring out there. Big raindrops zigzagged down the glass.
Use your noddle, Pearly James.
The words were as clear as if someone had whispered them in my ear.
Use your head. It’s all up to you.
I rested my forehead on the cold glass. ‘All right,’ I whispered. ‘All right.’
For a long time then I tried to think it all out. What should we do? What could we do? But it was useless, my brain had turned to mush. All I seemed to be able to think about was that dark figure creeping around in the house. I imagined him opening my door, pausing for a moment to check that I was asleep, then gliding into the room. At my bed he pauses, bends over me, watches me as I sleep. Then, ever so care
fully, he reaches out and leaves his nasty little mark. Ugh, it was horrible, like something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, but for real. Strange that none of us had felt him put that stuff on us, though. Why would that be? Did he use a brush, or a scrap of paper or something, instead of his fingers? That made sense. He wouldn’t want to get any of the stuff on himself, that’s for sure. And of course he would have had to carry the gunk in some sort of container, a bag or a tin or whatever…
That was when I had my idea. It was a long shot, I knew, but somehow I couldn’t help trembling as I pulled on my coat and took the torch from my satchel. I crept downstairs and padded along the hallway on my bare, cold feet. As quietly as I could, I eased open the front door and stepped out into the hammering rain. In seconds I was drenched. Mud oozed between my toes. Switching on the torch, I stepped across to the huge pile of rubble that I’d noticed when I first arrived. I shone the beam over the sodden heap of plasterboard, half-end bricks, plastic bags, scraps of cardboard, coffee cups and old newspapers. Everything was cracked and crinkled and faded. Everything, that is, except one bright green plastic tub lying on the side of the pile. I picked it up and sniffed—and immediately started gagging. No mistaking that smell. I shone the torch inside. A few remaining blobs of the gunk had mixed with rainwater to make a brown sludge. Just as I’d guessed, O’Hare had thrown the container away as he left the house.
Then I noticed a label on the side of the tub: ‘Suet Balls for Wild Birds’, with a picture of a chaffinch. Below that, in smaller letters, there was a name and address:
R.F. SHIPPEY & Co.
121 Eagle St.
I took my prize back to my room, feeling rather pleased with this bit of late-night detective work. Of course, I knew it wasn’t much of a clue. It might not lead to anything at all. But still, it was something—some tiny sliver of hope. And the fact that my little theory had been right somehow made me feel that luck was still on my side. I copied the address into my policeman’s notebook, sealed the tub inside a plastic bag and put it in the farthest corner of my room. Then I washed the mud off my feet, changed into dry clothes and lay down on the bed to wait for the day.
13
It was a dirty little place in the most rundown part of town. You could only just read the faded sign: ‘R.F. SHIPPEY & Co. HARDWARE AND SUPPLIES.’ The front window was bare except for a row of six mannequin hands, each wearing a different kind of rubber glove.
We all stood there looking at the waving hands.
‘Why would he come here?’ wondered Miri.
‘Maybe he didn’t,’ said Matty. ‘I told you, you can probably buy that bird food in lots of places. Or maybe he just found the empty tub somewhere.’
Inside, the first thing you noticed was the smell of damp. Cardboard boxes were stacked up everywhere in tottering piles. The few things still left on the shelves looked like they’d been there for years. There was nobody behind the counter, but somewhere out the back you could hear a TV.
‘Hello?’ I called. No one came.
‘Look,’ said Jean. On a shelf near the door there were three green tubs, just like the one I’d found.
I called louder. A woman slid through a curtain behind the counter. She was thin and shabby. All the colour seemed to have been drained out of her face and hair. She looked alarmed when she saw us all.
I smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re looking for some information?’
Now she seemed even more scared. I thought I’d better get to the point as quickly as possible. ‘We just wondered if anyone’s bought one of those tubs of suet balls recently?’
She looked at me as if I was mad. I tried to explain. ‘You see, there was quite a nasty incident at our house. Someone poured this stuff, this horrible stuff, over us, and they were carrying it in one of those tubs—’
Her face went hard and she said something I didn’t catch.
‘Beg your pardon?’
‘I said I can’t help what people use our merchandise for.’
‘No, no, we’re not making a complaint or anything. We just wondered if you remember who—’
‘No, I’m afraid I can’t help you,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t know anything about it.’ She turned towards the curtain.
‘So you don’t remember anyone buying one of those green tubs recently?’ I pointed at the tubs on the shelf.
She paused and glanced over her shoulder at the tubs, and then something changed in her face. Her eyes flashed at me. ‘Are you his friends, then?’ she asked sharply.
‘Who do you mean?’ I said, my heart beating faster.
‘Him,’ she snapped. ‘That—wotsit—who came in here after one of them tubs.’ She shook her head as she remembered. ‘Huh, I’ve seen some things.’
‘What happened?’
‘Well, I heard someone come in, so I came out to see what they wanted.’ She was reliving it now. ‘He was standing just where you are.’ She nodded at Hooky, who was near the door. ‘Very tall, he was. Tall and skinny. I said, “Can I help you?” He said, “I doubt it, madam.” Very posh, you know. Then he picked up one of them tubs and started trying to open it, so I asked him if he wanted to buy it. And he said, “No, madam, I simply need the container.” And then, you wouldn’t believe it, he just tore off the lid and tipped all the suet balls out. All over the floor they went. Have you ever heard anything like it? And you know, what I most remember, he was watching me as he did it. Yes, looking to see how I’d react.’
‘And what did you do?’
‘Shouted at him, didn’t I. But it didn’t faze him. Oh no. Dead cool, he was. And you know what he did as he went out? Put 2p on the shelf. Look, it’s still there. Said it was for the container. Can you imagine? And he was smiling all the time, too. It made my blood run cold, I can tell you.’
‘When was this?’ I asked.
‘Three, four days ago.’
‘Did he have black hair? Long black hair?’
That reawakened her suspicion. ‘So you do know him, then?’
‘Yes, sort of,’ I admitted. ‘But he’s no friend of mine, believe me.’
‘No friend of anyone’s, I’d have thought,’ she replied.
Matty asked if she noticed which way O’Hare went after leaving the shop.
‘Up the hill. Going to Newland Crescent, I expect.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘Dead end up that way. Beyond that it’s just the woods.’
That was interesting. ‘So if anyone walks up the hill they’re definitely going to Newland Crescent?’
‘Well, people do walk their dogs in the woods up on South Hill and round the back of the old factory, but Newland’s the last of the houses.’
‘D’yer think ’e might live up there, then?’ asked Jean.
She shrugged. ‘May do.’
‘But if he lived there, wouldn’t you see him coming past here all the time?’ asked Matty.
‘I don’t spend my days looking out the window,’ said the woman curtly.
‘So you haven’t seen him again, then?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’d remember if I saw him again.
I couldn’t think of any more questions after that. ‘Well, thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful.’ It sounded like a line from a detective novel.
‘What’s his game, then?’ asked the woman.
I sighed. ‘I wish I knew. I guess he’s pretty disturbed.’ I told her a bit more about the gunk incident.
‘Well, you be careful,’ she said as we filed out. ‘You watch yourselves with that one.’
14
Outside the shop, we turned left up the hill and walked past rows of boarded-up shops and deserted furniture warehouses. Near the top we came to a T-junction. The road running across was Newland Crescent, a long arc of dirty old terrace houses. I looked each way along the crescent and realized I couldn’t see a single bit of greenery. Not even any weeds. It was as if someone had gone along the street and pulled up every l
ast blade of grass. And yet just beyond the houses on the far side of the street the woods rose like an ocean of green shadows. Over to the right, behind the houses down that end of the crescent, there was an ugly concrete building with a huge red-brick tower. I guessed that was the old factory mentioned by the shopkeeper.
We all stood there looking at the rows of grey houses. It was starting to rain again.
‘What now, then?’ asked Jean.
Everyone looked at me. ‘Well, we’ve got to find out if he lives here, haven’t we.’
‘Door to door, then,’ said Matty.
Draemon rolled his shoulders. ‘I’m up for that. So this joker’s skinny, about six-four, long black hair?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘And pale, really pale. With green eyes. And he always wears a black overcoat.’
‘One of us needs to stay here to keep watch,’ said Matty. ‘Far as I can see, everyone who lives up here has to come past this corner.’
‘I’ll stay,’ said Jean. ‘At least I’ll be able to run for it if ’e sees me.’
‘Well, make sure you keep an eye on the cars, too. He might have his own wheels.’
Miri thought the people going door to door should work in pairs. ‘And we could do opposite sides of the street at the same time. It’d be a lot quicker.’
That made sense. We agreed that Matty and Drae would do the near side and Miri and I would do the other.
‘W-what about me?’ asked Hook Morton.
‘Can you have a scout around, Hook?’ I said. ‘Just see what you can find. Maybe try to find a way into the woods.’
‘And when you’ve finished, come and keep me company,’ said Jean.
I asked Matty how many houses he thought there were in Newland Crescent.
‘Dunno. Three hundred? It’ll take a good while, anyhow.’
‘And not everyone’ll be ’ome at this time of day,’ said Jean. It was nearly one o’clock.
‘Okay, let’s make a note of all the numbers where no one comes to the door.’ I gave Draemon a pen and a page from my notebook. ‘Then we can come back and check those ones later, if we have to. And don’t forget to ask people if they’ve seen Boo. There aren’t that many whippets around these days.’
