The Amber Pendant

by Imogen White

  “Elephas Maximus! You saw through the eyes of the other guardian?” he gasped at the end.

  “I think so. It was strange.”

  “And you overheard them talk about a man from the East, travelling with a book to the museum.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Umm.” Rui stroked his chin. “Interesting – I can see now why you are suspicious of Mr Gupta. But we must not judge him as guilty yet, I beg of you. However, if we can solve these clues you overheard, it might lead us to your pendant. And Rose,” he lifted his index finger, “together, I believe we can do it!”

  Rose nodded. A welcome relief washed through her: sharing the burden of all that had happened felt good.

  “So, the symbol of the black sun was on his wrist – the same design you’d spotted on a carriage leaving the house.” Rui tapped his cheek.

  “Yes.” She grimaced. “But I never told no one that it were outside the house,” she suddenly realized, wishing she had. “I didn’t know all this was going to happen. I should’ve said something, shouldn’t I? Maybe that could’ve made a difference.”

  “We cannot worry about that which is done. We must worry instead for that which remains undone… Moving on.” Rose could almost hear the cogs turning in his complex mind, as he stared out of the window. “So, Miss Templeforth was amazed that you could see inside the other pendant-holder’s head. That’s what makes you special. And as the new guardian, you must have a direct blood link to Miss T, one that stretches all the way back to Albion, the half-brother of our nemesis, Verrulf.”

  “That’s what they told me.” But even as she said it, she felt uncertain.

  “If the pendant chose you, then that much is fact.”

  Without warning the carriage swerved to take a sharp left. Rose and Rui slid sideways along their seats. The driver shouted something. Rui gripped the window ledge. Outside, a delivery boy brandished his fist at their retreating carriage. He sat in the roadway amongst a pile of loaves of bread that had spilled out of an upturned basket.

  The carriage now sped eastwards, alongside the iron railings of the Pleasure Gardens. They were nearly there.

  “Rui, it don’t make no sense why the pendant picked me. I was told my ma died giving birth to me.” Rose sank into her seat. “And my pa got lost at sea. So Ma had me in the workhouse. And that’s where she died…my mum wasn’t no Templeforth. That’s all I know.”

  Rui’s expression softened as he spoke. “Not having parents makes you feel lost, doesn’t it? I know, you see, because…because I lost my parents too.”

  “You did?” Rose tilted her head. “You never said.”

  “I don’t much like talking about it. They died on a hunting trip, just before Miss T was hired as my governess. That woman helped me through my grief, befriended me, gave me hope. She let me taste the potential of life’s great adventure. I owe her everything. And now…well, now she’s dead too.” His voice cracked to a whisper as he wiped away a tear.

  Rose recalled Miss Templeforth suggesting the two of them had a lot in common. It had sounded so silly back then. But now…

  “So, you see,” he composed himself, “I am determined to find out who sent those creatures to haunt her –”

  “– and who stole her pendant,” Rose cut in.

  The carriage heaved to a sudden stop.

  “First thing’s first,” Rose continued, with renewed optimism. “Let’s find Enna Lee. She will help us, I’m sure of it.”

  Rui opened the carriage door and inhaled a lungful of the autumnal air.

  “Good job I’m in disguise.” His determined eyes shot back to her. “And ready to solve this terrible crime with you.”

  Rose couldn’t help but smile as he jumped down from the carriage. Rui patted Jack Billings’s shabby coat. Being a couple of sizes too small, the sleeves didn’t even reach his wrists, and the breeches had patches on both knees. No one would ever believe he’s the nephew to some maharajah – Indian royalty no less! He’s the oddest boy I’ve ever met. But she liked him all the same.

  Rose jumped down and paid the driver. The entrance to the Pleasure Gardens lay before them, and Enna Lee was in there somewhere. Rose hoped with all her might that she had the answers they needed.

  A barrel-shaped man patrolled the gated entrance to the Pleasure Gardens at St Ann’s Well. Whistling through his teeth he stopped when he spotted Rose and Rui and swung back onto his heels.

  “Good day to yez,” he said, hooking his thumbs into his canary-yellow waistcoat. “Threepence a piece so you can see all the wonders awaiting yez. The best pleasure park in the whole of Europe.” His gaze fixed on the money-pouch dangling from Rose’s finger.

  Rose tightened the bow of her bonnet. She could hear music and drums, and she peered behind the man at the thrum of people gathering around stalls and exhibits. Colourful bunting flapped in the afternoon breeze.

  “We’ve come to see Gypsy Lee. Where can we find her?” Rose fished out some change from the purse of coins Enna had left for her.

  The man placed the back of his hand to his mouth. “A mysterious woman to be sure, a confident seer of folk. Follow the path to the top of the furze, by the Chalybeate Spring, just past the hermit, you can’t miss her caravan.” His words fell with seasoned aplomb.

  Taking the coins, he tipped his top hat as they entered. “I wonder what your future holds?” he shouted behind them.

  Rose didn’t want to even think about her future – she couldn’t think beyond finding Enna Lee and the missing pendant. Her pace quickened. It must be close to half past three by now.

  “Hove is just as Miss T described it – full of adventure,” Rui hollered, as he dodged through the mass of well-to-do people milling about. Rose felt dizzy with the place. The sweet smell of toffee apples hung in the air, the colours and the sound of laughter. She had never been anywhere like this before.

  “It ain’t usually like this,” Rose shook her head, “normally it’s just hard work and grime. But since you’ve turned up everything’s been spun on its head.”

  A brass band struck up, and Rui became swamped by a large crowd gathering around him.

  A man stood on a plinth up front and shouted through a mouth trumpet. “In a feat of aviation magic, I will be travelling at the mercy of the winds to Europe,” he bellowed over the crowd, holding his deerstalker hat in place with his free hand.

  “What a hat!” Rui said.

  Pushing her way through, Rose joined Rui, balancing on her tiptoes to see to the front. She peered between two ladies’ hats, stacked with fruit and feathers, and saw the man pivot into a wicker basket anchored to the ground by a series of ropes. A huge expanse of silk, in stripes of red and yellow, inflated behind him.

  “It is a death-defying act of bravery. Many have died,” he boomed, amid the gulps and sighs of the watching ladies. “I am nearly ready to ascend.”

  “A flying balloon, of all things,” Rose muttered, a smile creeping across her face. She turned to say something to Rui, but he had gone. Gone? She spun in a circle, her vision obscured by bearded men, top hats and children on shoulders. I can’t have just lost him! She panicked.

  She fought her way back to the path. A small boy darted in front of her, clanking a stick against a metal hoop. He weaved up the pathway, making his way in between a sea of prams, fancy hats and walking canes. She couldn’t see Rui anywhere. Rose jumped from side to side to allow people to pass her. Worry spiralled inside her. I’ve lost him in all of this madness, and now I’m lost in it all too.

  Then she caught sight of Rui peering around the side of a large wheeled cage, one of the Pleasure Gardens’ many exhibits. Her relief switched to irritation. Picking up the hem of her long coat she marched towards him.

  “Oi!” she poked his arm and stepped back.

  He spun around, lifting his finger to his mouth, gesturing with his other hand to stay low. She shuffled forward and peeked over his shoulder.

  Eee eee eee oh oh oh!

&
nbsp; Rose jumped at the shrill noise coming from the cage. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Inside, amongst the exotic shrubbery, were a group of agitated monkeys – all tails, teeth, arms and fur. A sign creaked in the breeze overhead. “Monkey House,” she read aloud. “I hate monkeys.” She gritted her teeth.

  “Shh,” Rui pointed. “Look.”

  Scanning the area ahead, she spotted none other than Mr Gupta. He stood out like a sore thumb in his jewelled turban and cream coat. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered. “He’s supposed to be at the museum!”

  “And who’s that with him?” Rui added.

  A man wearing a floor-length black coat stood opposite Mr Gupta. Rose strained to get a better look, but his upturned collar concealed his face.

  “This doesn’t look like no museum business to me.”

  “Ummm,” Rui muttered.

  Mr Gupta looked furious. He stabbed the air with his hook.

  “What are they having a barny about?” Rose wondered aloud. I bet it’s about the pendant – I knew that thieving blighter nicked it.

  The stranger pinched a stubby cigarette between his fingers and withdrew something from his pocket that he thrust into Mr Gupta’s outstretched hand. Mr Gupta turned, obscuring her view.

  “What’s he given him? It looks like he’s getting paid for something!” Rose murmured.

  Rui said nothing, but his face was like thunder.

  Mr Gupta took a cursory glance across the crowd, and Rose and Rui ducked back behind the cage.

  “Lor’, Rui. What’s he up to?” Rose whispered.

  “Something unexpected,” he answered, his eyes flashing.

  “Why’s your Mr Gupta here, when he’s s’posed to be at the museum?” Rose scowled.

  “That, dear Rose, is what I intend to find out.” Rui bent low and dashed from the cover of the cage. “This way,” he urged.

  Rose stepped forward to follow but something small zipped in front of her, blocking her path.

  “What the—?”

  Mr Gupta’s monkey, Bahula, eyeballed her, his ears pinned back on either side of his fez. Standing on his hind legs he exposed his teeth.

  “Shoo! Go on, get away with ya!” Rose kicked out with her boots. With one agile leap, Bahula swung up on top of the cage. He jumped about, hooting, pointing down at her.

  The caged monkeys beside her suddenly crashed against the bars, forming a wall of teeth and fangs.

  Eeeoow EEEOOOW EE EE EE oo oo oo.

  Rose fell to the ground in fright. The monkeys were rattling the bars, snarling and shrieking, their thin arms grabbing for her. Her boots ripped the hem of her new dress as they scraped deep indentations into the grass. “Bother!” she cursed. Her dress was ruined now, thanks to a bunch of miserable monkeys. Rose bared her teeth at them and growled.

  But, undeterred, they continued. She realized they were reacting to Bahula’s shrieks. “He’s eggin’ them on,” she raged, sneering up at Bahula. “I’ll make a hat out of ya!” she shouted, brandishing her fist at him.

  A man with a straw boater turned to look and, one by one, other heads swung round towards the din.

  “Mr Gupta is looking for Bahula,” Rui said, dashing back towards her. “He will spot us if he comes any closer.” Bahula remained concealed for now behind the swinging Monkey House sign, but not if Gupta came any closer.

  “Well then do something,” Rose yelled at him.

  “I am assembling a distraction, using my sacred friends,” Rui shouted as he ran past. A sharp twang of scraping metal drew Bahula’s attention. “What this situation requires is a flavour of the markets of Jaipur.”

  Before Rose could make any sense of it, one of the caged monkeys bounded past – it wasn’t in a cage any more! Rose fell back on her hands, her bonnet halfway down her face. Skidding on the grass, the monkey tore away into the crowd, its path punctuated by a succession of ladies’ shrieks.

  Rose got to her feet just as three more monkeys careered past.

  The open cage door swung in the breeze behind them. “Rui, you didn’t?”

  He shrugged, an impish smile forming on his lips. “Welcome to India!” he announced, his hands raised high.

  Ahead, the monkey-infested crowd surged and pulled in every direction. A woman dashed by with a monkey fastened to her wide-brimmed hat. A dark shadow fell over them and Rose looked up to see the hot-air balloon billowing just feet above, its basket jerking madly, with dangling ropes beating the air. A tweed-clad head peered over the rim.

  “Abort! Abort! Monkey on board!” he squawked through his mouth trumpet. Rose slapped her hand to her mouth just as a gust of wind took the balloon away, sweeping the man and his stowaway high into the heavens.

  “Rui. What’ve you done?”

  A deerstalker hat fell from the sky and landed squarely on the ground between them. Rui picked it up. “A gift! Thank you, Sir! Godspeed,” he shouted up to the disappearing balloon pilot.

  Rui thumped the tweed hat back into shape before pulling it over his head. “Sherlock Holmes at your service, Ma’am,” he said, executing a low bow.

  He’s as mad as a flea, Rose thought with a shake of her head. She turned to Rui. “I don’t need no Sherlock,” she huffed. “What I need is that blessed monkey gone!”

  “EEoo oo oo ooo!” Bahula shrieked, still jumping up and down on the cage above them, enjoying the whole spectacle.

  Rose chanced a look at Mr Gupta, who spun in a circle, confused by the monkey mayhem twisting through the crowds around him. He’d never find Bahula with all of this going on. His mysterious companion had turned away, sucking on his cigarette.

  “Look, up there,” a woman’s voice called out. Bahula froze. “Get him.” An ample lady waddled up, directing a man holding a noose on a long black rod. The man rushed forward, swiping at Bahula, trying to hoopla him, but missing.

  In a trice, Bahula launched off the cage and belted through the crowd towards his master. The man took chase, his noose nodding in the air above him.

  “Bahula!” Mr Gupta’s voice broke over the havoc.

  Speeding off, Bahula leaped safely into Mr Gupta’s arms as he strode away, following the lead of his darkly clad companion. They disappeared into the crowds.

  Rui dashed forward. “Quick, they’re leaving!”

  “Coming!” Rose stumbled behind him, gripping her bonnet, but by the time they got to where Mr Gupta and the man had been talking, it was clear they were too late. People swarmed around them like a shoal of netted mackerel, blocking their view in all directions. “Fiddlesticks!” Rui slapped his fist into his palm. “We’ve lost them.”

  He crouched down and retrieved a smouldering cigarette butt discarded in the grass, and examined it closely. “Unfiltered and strong,” he muttered sniffing it. “Wild Woodbine,” he deduced.

  “How do you know all this stuff?” Rose asked in awe.

  “Like Sherlock Holmes, I make it my business to know the business of other people.” He tapped his nose. “This particular brand is known also as ‘gaspers’, due to the heavy toll the cigarettes take on the user’s lungs. I first read about them in A Biased Judgement: The Sherlock Homes Diaries, 1887. Plus, I had the misfortune of sitting next to a smoker of such cigarettes on the voyage over here. It’s a filthy habit. But at least we have a clue about our stranger.”

  They hurried up the network of paths, which criss-crossed up the tiered elevations of the gardens. They’d already passed the hermit cave, just like the man at the gate had told them, so Rose knew they were heading the right way. Mr Gupta would have to wait. Once they’d found Enna Lee, everything would be all right. Rose bit her lip.

  Overhead, elm boughs shaded the walkway, scattering multicoloured leaves in the breeze. The mood felt different up here – quiet but for the crunch of leaf-litter beneath their feet, and the gentle rush of autumn wind. The main park spread out a little way below them, but the whole place looked deserted now. As it turned out, Rui’s trick with the caged monkeys had not only stoppe
d Mr Gupta from spotting them both, but also unintentionally cleared the park of visitors.

  Rui dashed ahead in his ill-fitting disguise, the flaps of his new hat swinging up and down over his ears. He’s barmy all right, but plucky too, Rose thought with a wry smile.

  “So now d’you think it was Gupta what nicked it?” Rose panted, chasing up behind Rui, pulling her thick coat tightly around her against the afternoon chill.

  Rui suddenly jumped into the undergrowth to their left, and pulled Rose with him. Branches clawed at her coat. “Oi, what you doing?”

  He leaned out and inspected the pathway behind them. “Good, we’re not being followed.” Satisfied, he leaped back out. “Come along then,” he called back to her, “the coast is clear, as you English say.”

  “Don’t you ‘come along’ me,” she said. “It was you who stopped me. I was coming on just fine till then.” Rose unhooked her coat from a bramble, tugging herself free.

  Rui strode away mumbling to himself. “It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has accurate data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts. Which will never do.” Rui’s fist rested on his lips, deep in thought.

  “God’s teeth!” Rose exclaimed, chasing up behind him. “Whatever are you bleating on about?”

  “Oh, it’s a quote from Sherlock Holmes in A Scandal in Bohemia.” He marched on. “This situation throws up more questions than it answers. What we need are cold, hard facts.”

  I’ll give him cold, hard facts. Rose poked him on the shoulder. “What you after? A signed confession? Now I ain’t no Sherlock Wotsit. I ain’t full of fancy words and long ideas. But even I can see it looks like Mr Gupta pinched the pendant. And if you want facts, I’ll give you facts. He wasn’t at the museum, like where he had said he was going. He was here, with some stranger. It even looked like he got paid for something. Come on!” She threw her hands in the air. “We should have grabbed him whilst we had the chance.”

  “My tutor, Rose,” Rui pressed on, “would not steal anything. It simply doesn’t feel right. I know what we just saw. But…he’s considered so honourable back in Jaipur.”