There was a crystal the size of a goose egg resting on an ebony stand while images flashed through; a tall needle balanced precariously on its tip, spinning round and round like a gyroscope; and packets of grey powder, obviously powdered horn of Unicorn. It was the silver pyramid, though, that captured his attention the most. It was sending a low humming vibration through the desk. Decorated in Goblin symbols it would fit neatly into the palm of his hand.
Seating themselves down on the chairs that had been offered, Hephzibah began by apologising for the absence of Icarus Llewellyn-Aspen. She didn’t elaborate on the nature of his detainment but there hadn’t been a soul in the wood who had not seen the detective being carried away on a stretcher with the Gnome still firmly attached.
‘Now,’ she said briskly, removing the feather quill from behind her ear and dipping it into a pot of ruby red ink, ‘what were five children, one a non-Wizard,’ at this point glancing at Alex, ‘doing in March Wood?’
‘Well…’
‘You see…’
‘What it was…’
They all tried to speak at once, making it impossible to hear any one person clearly. Hephzibah raised both her hands to cease the babble of noise. She already had a headache from a lack of sleep and now she was facing a mountain of paperwork on her own due to Icarus’s transportation to hospital. It certainly hadn’t been a good day and she wanted to get the statements over and done with.
‘One person at a time please?’ prompted Hephzibah, rubbing her temples which were throbbing.
Taking a deep breath Jebediah said, ‘Well, I asked Alex, my friend to look after my dog while I was at summer camp. When he realised that my mum and dad hadn’t been home for a while he grew suspicious, you know. Anyway, he found the ransom note and brought it straight to me.’
Jebediah squirmed uncomfortably under Hephzibah’s intense gaze which never wavered all the time he spoke.
Finally she said, ‘So you received a ransom note but at no point did you think to hand it over to us so that we could bring this situation to a satisfactory conclusion quickly?’
‘I... I thought that if I came to you then it would put their lives in danger,’ he replied slowly, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to focus on something.
‘Hmmm,’ she murmured, distinctly unimpressed. ‘So instead of letting the authorities deal with it you persuaded your friends to accompany you on what could have potentially been a fatal escapade without a single thought of the consequences?’
After hearing his own excuse, which even to his ears seemed lame now, he lowered his head and examined his feet which had suddenly become incredibly interesting. It wasn’t that he hadn’t given any thought to how dangerous their plan was, but more that he had allowed himself to become carried away by his friends and the whole adventure of it. Looking back now, it suddenly struck him just how stupid he had been.
Cordelia, who had been quiet until now, piped up, ‘We insisted on going with him.’
‘Very commendable,’ Hephzibah said dryly, but her eyes remained on Jebediah. ‘So can you explain to me how the Gnome Mafia fit into the picture or was their presence a mere coincidence?’
Jebediah raised his head a fraction. The tone of her voice told him that she knew they were connected somehow. He had toyed with the idea of omitting them from the scenario totally. He could always say that the money had come from his nan. His parents would be naturally suspicious and would probably know it wasn’t true but the Sorcery Police wouldn’t be any the wiser.
He rubbed his palms awkwardly on his jeans, his mind mentally noting the roughness of the material.
‘We… I mean I stole…’ As he spoke, Hephzibah sat up straighter in her chair and he could feel his parents at the side of him doing the same. ‘Well, not stole exactly, more borrowed,’ he finished lamely.
‘From precisely where did you borrow it?’ Hephzibah asked sternly.
‘From the Gnomes,’ he said quietly.
The thunder of voices when they broke made Cordelia jump and Jebediah cringe as he sank further down into the chair dearly wishing the office floor would open up and swallow him.
Before Hephzibah had a chance to say a single word, Jebediah’s mother screeched, You did what?’
If he had thought, or rather hoped, that this would be the only question then he was wrong, very wrong.
‘What ever possessed you to do something so damn stupid? I thought you would have more sense than that. I’m even surprised you’re still alive.’ As she spoke a vein throbbed in her temple threateningly and Jebediah imagined it bursting out and strangling her.
Jebediah didn’t envisage for one minute that his parents would take the news lightly, but he had thought that they would at least appreciate the risks he had taken to get them back in one piece.
Alex, who had no idea just how serious the situation was being a non-Wizard himself, said, ‘It wouldn’t have happened if the Leprechaun we kidnapped hadn’t spent all his family’s fortune.’
It was like pouring petrol onto an already blazing fire that was out of control.
Mrs Humphries opened her mouth but all that came out were a number of inaudible noises, too shocked to string together a coherent sentence. Hephzibah this time was the first one to speak.
‘Do you realise how long the prison sentence is for abduction and theft?’ Hephzibah asked, outraged at what they had done.
This was something else he hadn’t thought of and, judging by the expressions on his friends’ faces, neither had they. A worried look ran around them all and Cordelia’s bottom lip trembled.
‘I say, steady on there,’ Chester said.
‘If I were you Mr Pinkerton I would be very quiet’ warned Hephzibah. ‘You are already in an awful lot of trouble as it is. Most of your family work at the Wizards Council and this little debacle will no doubt cause a great deal of embarrassment.’
Whether it was through fear or not was anyone’s guess, but from out of nowhere Cordelia found not only her voice but also her courage. Jumping to her feet she clenched her fists which hung by her sides.
‘Now just wait a minute,’ she started. ‘The Leprechaun was not held against his will. In fact if we hadn’t fished him out of the water when we did he would have drowned. The money that we took from the Gnomes is from their illegal racketeering which I’m sure they not only declined to declare but forgot to pay a single Grooble’s tax on. Therefore I hardly think they will admit that we took it.’ Her whole body was shaking with pent-up fear and frustration as she shouted, ‘SO YOU CAN’T CHARGE US WITH ANYTHING!’
‘I agree with her,’ Monty said, nodding his head vigorously, while Chester, Jebediah and Alex gaped, open mouthed, in astonishment at her outburst.
Cordelia sat back in her chair, her body trembling and in shock herself at what she had just done. To say it was out of character was an understatement. Cordelia Cribbins was a model pupil with a perfect record and had never in her life done anything wrong before.
Hephzibah was stunned as she eyed the girl. She was right though; they didn’t have anything that would stick in court. This rankled Hephzibah. Ever since she had been promoted from the Sorcery Police to the Magical Investigation Branch she had wanted to nail the Gnomes for something, and now that chance was slipping away from her and also the chance to make her name.
Turning her attention to Mr and Mrs Humphries she asked, ‘Was it the Ogres, then, that kidnapped you?’
‘Yes,’ Mr Humphries replied.
‘But it was a Dark Elf by the name of Farooqi behind it all,’ Mrs Humphries interjected.
‘I believe we have him in custody,’ Hephzibah said, checking another board behind her that was also being updated constantly. ‘Yes, he’s in the cells,’ she added, turning back round to face them.
‘It was that vile creature that persuad
ed the Ogres to go through with it. He pretended that he was interested in S.N.O.T. but he was merely using them for his own ends,’ Mrs Humphries informed the detective. The scathing way in which she spoke told how she had not forgiven him for what he had done.
‘Yes, but that aside,’ argued Hephzibah, ‘it was the Ogres who abducted you and kept you prisoner against your will.’
Mr Humphries nodded mutely. His wife, like a true journalist, felt a story brewing from the situation and if she played her cards right it could be a bestseller.
‘Yes, but they are a political group,’ Mrs Humphries said.
‘Mrs Humphries, whether they are a political group or not they have still committed a crime for which they will be punished accordingly,’ Hephzibah said exasperatedly.
‘Yes but…’
Hephzibah raised her hand, cutting off Mrs Humphries, an act she did not like in the slightest and to which she took great umbrage. Hephzibah’s head was now pounding, bringing with it an insatiable urge to personally throttle everyone in the room. It was like talking to a brick wall. It seemed that none of them realised the seriousness of the situation.
Steadying her voice as best she could so she sounded at least calm even if inside she was ready to blow her top, she said, ‘Very well, I think I have all I’m going to get for today. I suggest you go home or wherever it is you are supposed to be and we will contact you later.’
She threw the quill she was holding down on the desk, Jebediah noticing that it was rather squashed, and climbed to her feet. Standing at the open door, she stretched out her hand indicating that the interview was over and it was now time for everyone to leave. Jebediah observed the look on her face which implied that if they didn’t go now they would be forcibly thrown out.
Outside the office Monty asked, ‘So what happens now?’
Mr Humphries turned to face the group. With his dusky brown hair tousled and his face streaked with dirt, a weary expression played about his face.
‘I think we should deliver you four back to Curzon Manor where you can explain yourselves to Berkeley Baskerville and apologise for the worry you’ve caused. I am sure he will have something to say to you.’ He then looked at Alex. ‘You,’ he said pointing at him, ‘we will take home first.’
Mrs Humphries was almost dancing about on the balls of her feet, itching to get away. If she went straight to the Cauldron Chronicle she would get the first instalment out before any of the other papers and clinch an exclusive. That would put Elvira Duker in her place.
‘I must get to work,’ she said. Dropping a light kiss on Jebediah’s cheek she turned on her heels and disappeared down the hallway leaving them all to watch in silence.
Serialisations and Television Appearances
It was Mr Humphries alone who escorted the four of them back to Curzon Manor and to an extremely unhappy Berkeley Baskerville. He had been informed of their arrival along with a brief outline of events from Mr Humphries. Waiting in a small office for them, the chair in which he sat faced out towards the window and the formally laid gardens.
Jebediah stood in front of Monty, Chester and Cordelia, his head bowed as he studied the rug beneath his feet.
‘Well, well, well. The four musketeers have returned,’ Berkeley said sarcastically, spinning round in the chair. The tips of his fingers were pressed together as he leaned back and surveyed the sorry looking group.
Mr Humphries stepped forward. ‘I will leave it up to you to punish Jebediah as you see fit Berkeley,’ he said as a twinkle reached his eyes and he fought to control the twitching at the corners of his mouth. This, however, wasn’t noticed by the children, who all tried to look anywhere except at Berkeley Baskerville. Secretly Mr Humphries was proud of his son and his friends, but he didn’t want them to know in the hope that the distinct lack of encouragement would prevent them from doing anything so foolhardy again.
Berkeley gave a slight wink in response and Mr Humphries left the room, leaving Jebediah and his friends to their fate.
Now alone, they all quivered. Still they felt braver than if they had been brought in one by one to receive their punishments. There was always safety in numbers.
Berkeley Baskerville sat forward and placed his hands on the desk.
‘I am sure I do not need to remind you how stupid and ill conceived your actions were?’ Each one shook their head in agreement, not daring to speak. ‘Your disappearance caused anxiety for every teacher at the camp and for your parents who will be speaking to you individually I’m sure.’ Deep down Jebediah cast serious doubt over Ambrose Snodgrass’s concern for his welfare. The lines across Berkeley’s brow faded and his eyes seemed to dance as he visibly relaxed. ‘Despite that, what you did involved not only courage but a true test of friendship, something which is very rare. While I cannot condone what you did or the way in which you did it, I am proud of the way in which you stood together.’
A faint flicker of hope now ran through them all. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as bad as they thought.
‘But,’ Berkeley said sternly, breaking their thoughts, ‘I cannot allow you to be so tempestuous again. I have therefore decided that as a punishment you will spend the rest of the camp in the kitchens with the Brownies washing up after dinner each night.’
Nobody dare groan, but the thought of scrubbing pans for nearly four hundred people sent a sinking feeling to the pits of their stomachs.
‘I suggest you go and get yourselves cleaned up ready for evening dinner,’ he finished.
They silently turned from the room and only spoke once they were out of earshot.
‘Well, that wasn’t too bad was it?’ Chester said, striding up the stairs. He wasn’t worried unduly by the threat of any repercussions from his parents. His brothers would most likely think it a hilarious jape all round.
‘I’ve never washed anything up in my life,’ Monty bemoaned, looking at his impeccably manicured hands and nails.
‘I think we’re all lucky not only to be alive but also that we weren’t prosecuted by the Police,’ Cordelia said quietly, her thoughts dwelling on what her own mum and dad would have to say on the matter.
‘We have you to thank for that old girl,’ Monty said, patting Cordelia on the back.
The evening dinner was eaten among the mad whisperings of the other students. Despite their attempts to slink back in unnoticed, it seemed that everyone knew what had happened and the part they had played in it. This, Jebediah found out, was due to a late edition of the Cauldron Chronicle and a four-page spread by his mum, which Jonathan Pearson shoved under his nose.
‘Read this,’ he said sitting down.
Jebediah picked the paper up and began to read:
Farooqi, who we now know to be a Dark Elf by the name of Nordwell, extracted his vengeance against our most eminent detective Icarus Llewellyn-Aspen (59) who was involved in the unfortunate death of Nordwell’s brother Machlan nearly twenty years ago in the Moon Lake Nightclub, a renowned haunt for the more criminal elements of our society. The Dark Elf was killed during a raid by Sorcery Officers headed by Llewellyn-Aspen. Charles and Olivia Humphries were the unfortunate victims caught in this evil and monstrous plan. Icarus Llewellyn-Aspen is still unavailable for comment although we can assure readers that the Gnome pictured above has now been removed. Further plastic spellwork is required to rebuild his nose but Mage Healers have informed us that he should be released from hospital very soon. Nordwell is to be brought before the Supreme Wizard, Judge Bartholomew Bendygum, in three day’s time for sentencing. Readers will no doubt sleep easier in their beds knowing that the Dark Elf will shortly be spending many years behind the bars of McDouffa prison on the Isle of Barra in Scotland…
They were, it appeared, heroes. A new-found respect from their peers and a few of the teachers sprang up but some, predominately Ambrose Snodgrass, still viewed Jebediah in the same light a
s before. In fact it was as though he detested him even more after the incident, if that could be possible. He criticised his wandwork each lesson and always made him tidy up any mess. The worst part, though, was when Ambrose insisted on using him as his assistant and the butt of all his spells.
If any of them had hoped that their new-found stardom would soon die down, they were to be very disappointed. Everyone wanted to hear about how they had rescued his parents and, of course, they couldn’t tell anyone about the break-in at Ganoobis. Television interviews were being sought by a crew who camped outside Curzon Manor in the hope of speaking to any of them. Plenty of other students were only too happy to step into the limelight and dish the dirt. This was mainly on Jebediah and his disastrous magical ability. The incident with Snodgrass and the bat was printed in the Weekday Wand, much to Jebediah’s distress, as was the time when he blew up Randolph Stroud’s Familiar, a black cat, while trying to transform it into a candlestick.
Ergot, however, got his wish of promoting his party’s demands, and soon television personalities were campaigning on his behalf. A petition signed by nearly three million creatures was handed in to the Wizards Council asking for changes to the registration and rights of all Ogres currently in the British Isles.
* * *
Jebediah packed his bags for his return journey back home to the village of Whipsey. He was, for the first time ever, sad to be leaving camp. It had certainly been an adventure, but more than that he realised that people are never as bad or annoying as you first think. Monty had grown on him. Yes, he was still in love with himself and looked in every shiny surface he passed to admire his reflection, but Jebediah managed to ignore that flaw.
Cordelia was still perfect in his eyes, more so in fact. She had shown him a side of herself that he didn’t believe existed. All in all, he was lucky to have the sorts of friends he did. There weren’t many that would risk their own lives as they had done.
S.N.O.T. Page 15
