The Skeleton Clock

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The Skeleton Clock Page 6

by Justin Richards


  Geoff looked from Sarah to Jake. ‘Fine,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll catch you later then.’

  The bell jangled noisily as he shut the door behind him.

  *

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ the man asked. ‘Murder, toy soldiers, water demons…’

  Geoff shrugged. ‘No reason. I just thought you might be interested.’

  ‘Interested?’

  ‘In my soldier. I dived in the water after the case. Managed to find one of them.’

  The man’s eyes glittered greedily. ‘Just the one?’

  ‘Just the one,’ Geoff said. ‘So – how much?’

  ‘For a toy? I’m not sure it’s actually worth anything.’

  ‘It was to the bloke at Whispers, the one who killed the Revenue man.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should sell it to him.’

  Geoff nodded. He put the soldier down on the table between them. ‘I thought about that,’ he said. ‘I mean, I didn’t really see him properly. But I did think I recognised him. Can’t be sure, of course. But there was something familiar about him. Maybe the Watch will offer a reward.’

  ‘There again,’ the man said slowly, ‘I can see that the figure is quite fine. I could manage perhaps a few shillings.’

  ‘Shillings?’ Geoff laughed. ‘Do me a favour.’

  ‘I think I am. Half a guinea is really the most I think the piece is worth.’

  ‘That’s not a lot.’ It was as much money as Geoff had ever earned. ‘Considering.’

  ‘Considering,’ the man echoed, ‘that it is a single piece from what was obviously a collection, it is very generous.’ A gloved hand reached out and picked up the soldier. Held it, examined it, stroked it. ‘Now, if you had more of these, then that would raise the value. Quite considerably.’

  Geoff swallowed. ‘I can tell you where to find some,’ he said.

  ‘Oh? Well, information is also valuable of course.’

  He wasn’t about to land Jake in it, but there was another option. ‘The ones at Whispers, they ain’t there any more.’

  ‘I know.’ There was a hint of a smile as he said it.

  ‘But there’s a place over towards the Drylands,’ Geoff went on. ‘The Atherton Archive.’

  The man nodded slowly. ‘I know it.’ He put the toy soldier back down on the table. But his eyes never left it.

  ‘Word is, there’s some similar figures there.’

  A sovereign glinted in the half-light that shone through the high, dusty windows. ‘Then I shall have to persuade William Atherton to part with them.’

  Geoff swallowed. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to be away from this place. He glanced at his soldier standing on the table, and took the sovereign.

  Chapter 6

  There was a public ferry from the next street that took Jake and Sarah to Kensall Deep. From there they had to hire a waterboatman to get to Harrow on the Dry.

  They sat together in the prow of the small boat. The bench was so narrow they were jammed up against each other, and Jake spent most of the journey trying to press himself up against the side of the boat. Sarah wouldn’t want to be crowded, though she showed no sign of discomfort.

  Jake turned slightly and stretched his arm out behind them. Sarah looked at him amused.

  ‘I won’t bite you,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry.’ Jake looked away, but he knew she was still smiling at him. ‘Sorry,’ he said again.

  Neither of them said anything else until the boatman dropped them at the pier. Sarah paid him a tanner. ‘It’s all I’ve got,’ she said before he could complain.

  The boatman’s eyes narrowed. Then he grinned broadly and unexpectedly. ‘Guess it’ll have to do then.’ He tapped his cap by way of farewell and pushed the boat out from the pier.

  ‘You all right for getting back, then?’ the boatman called as he pulled away. ‘Don’t want to leave you stranded and all.’

  ‘We’ll be fine, thanks,’ Jake called back. ‘I’ve only got a few farthings,’ he confessed to Sarah as they turned and walked along the pier.

  ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘You know where you’re going?’

  She nodded. ‘Came here with Dad last year. He repaired a music box for Mr Atherton.’

  The afternoon was already drawing in as they reached the end of the little pier. Sarah led Jake along a sloping, cobbled street between a row of small shops on one side and offices on the other. Jake saw there was electric lighting in the offices, and guessed they were council and administration. Here, outside the limits of the City and away from the flood water, it was easier – and cheaper – to get on the grid.

  The next street looped down, back towards the river. At the end of it there was a large old house, angular and built from red brick. The corners of the building were reinforced and emphasised with blocks of pale stone. One side hung out over the water, though Jake guessed it had been built before the floods. Massive concrete pillars now held the building above the water.

  ‘So, who is this Atherton?’

  ‘He’s rich, and he collects stuff.’

  ‘What sort of stuff?’ Jake wondered.

  ‘All sorts. Old stuff.’

  ‘How rich?’

  Sarah pointed at the house that straddled the waters in front of them. ‘That rich.’

  The front door opened as they approached. A tall, thin man dressed in a shabby grey raincoat and a shapeless hat came out. Behind him Jake could see another, shorter man with silver-grey hair slicked back across his scalp. He was dressed in a dark suit.

  Jake and Sarah both drew back instinctively, though there was nowhere to hide. It was Officer Revelle.

  ‘Rest assured, Officer,’ the man in the suit was saying, ‘if anyone asks about the figures, anyone at all, I shall get in touch with you at the Watch Tower.’

  The Watch man turned away from the big house, sparing them the briefest glance as he strode past into the gathering dusk.

  ‘Young Miss Hickson,’ the man in the suit announced from the doorway. ‘What brings you to my humble establishment on an autumn afternoon? The promise of a cup of tea, perhaps?’

  ‘Don’t tell him about the soldiers,’ Jake breathed.

  Sarah shot him a look that said: ‘You think I’m mad?’ before turning to the man and smiling. ‘Mr Atherton, you are very kind. I was telling my friend Jake about your wonderful collection, and as we were nearby, well, I was wondering…’ She let the question fall away.

  ‘Of course. Come in.’ Atherton stood aside and gestured for them to enter. ‘I am always happy for an excuse to show off my archives to people who can really appreciate the collection. I would open it to the public,’ he went on as he closed the door behind them, ‘but there are so many people who simply do not appreciate the finer things.’ He frowned, looking down at the floor.

  Jake followed the man’s gaze, and saw that his muddy boots had left a trail across the polished wood. He stepped back quickly onto a door mat, and wiped them enthusiastically.

  Atherton nodded. ‘Good, yes. Well, let me show you around, Miss Hickson. And Jake. Was there anything in particular you wanted to see?’

  Jake had never seen so many electric lamps. The whole place was blanketed in harsh white light. The hallway was panelled with pale wood, but the walls were barely visible. They were lined with tables and display cases. Higher up, pictures hung so close together their frames almost touched. There were portraits and paintings, photographs and sketches…

  ‘That Officer of the Watch,’ Sarah was saying.

  ‘Officer Revelle? He has a keen mind, despite his rather unorthodox appearance.’

  ‘He came to the shop, to see father.’

  ‘Ah.’ Atherton nodded. ‘And it was your father who sent him to me?’

  ‘He was interested to know about some toy soldier figures. Father thought it sounded like something he’d seen here.’

  ‘So you thought you’d like to see them too?’

  ‘It sounded interesting,’ Jake s
aid quickly.

  ‘It is very interesting,’ Atherton agreed. ‘Let me show you. And then, I’ll make that tea.’

  He led them down the hall, past several rooms. Finally, he opened a door and beckoned for Jake and Sarah to go in. ‘Let’s see what’s in here, shall we?’

  The door led into an enormous room with a high ceiling. The room was shrouded in the gloom of the early evening. It was on the side of the house held up by the concrete pillars, and through the large window that dominated the far wall, Jake could see the dying sun, its reflection elongated and distorted across the water.

  Atherton followed them into the room, and pressed a switch on the wall. Immediately the room was flooded with harsh light that made Jake blink. Like the hall, the walls of the room were covered with pictures. Jake could see plans and drawings of the house they were in, yellowed and stained with age. A woman in a long old-fashioned dress, her dark hair falling in unnaturally perfect curls, watched from a large portrait beside the door. Further along, a dark wooden bookcase was filled with leather-bound volumes labelled in faded gold lettering.

  There were tables and display cases everywhere. Jake caught confused glimpses of statues and urns, of jewellery and ornate boxes as he followed Atherton and Sarah over towards the window. The tide was in, and the water was lapping against the bottom of the glass.

  ‘Here we are.’

  Atherton stopped in front of a tall rectangular glass case that rose like a pillar from the floor. Bright lights set in the ceiling burned down from immediately above the case so that the inside seemed to glow. The glass shelves were packed. There was a delicate china tea set, glass bowls, toy cars and lorries made of scratched metal – just like the real ones Jake had seen pictures of in old books at Mandrake’s.

  And on one shelf, there was a soldier on horseback, just like the one Jake secretly had in his pocket. Or almost just like it. The features were not quite the same, the horse’s armour of a slightly different design. The figure was a faded red rather than stained blotchy white. But it was undoubtedly the brother of Jake’s soldier. Beside it were three foot soldiers, similar to the one Geoff had found. Two red, one white.

  Behind the soldiers, was a nobleman – perhaps even a king – complete with robes and crown. Beside him was an elephant, plates of battle armour hanging from its sides and a small fortified enclosure resting on its broad back. From the detail and intricacy of the carving, they must all have been made by the same sculptor.

  ‘The case is sealed, I’m afraid,’ Atherton told them. ‘To open it would be to let in the air, the dust, the humidity. They might be toys, but they’re far too good to play with. Don’t you think?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Sarah said. ‘They’re beautiful.’

  ‘Do they… move?’ Jake asked.

  ‘They’re not jointed, if that’s what you mean. There is no internal mechanism. But you know,’ Atherton leaned closer to the glass, peering in at the figures. ‘Just possibly, if you call them by name, if you order them, then like real soldiers, they might obey.’ He turned to look at Sarah and Jake, as if expecting them to respond to this.

  ‘Where did they come from?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Ah,’ Atherton said, smiling, ‘now that would be telling. But they are very old. Very fragile. Very valuable.’

  ‘Really? How valuable?’ Jake asked. He had the figure of the horseman in his pocket, and instinctively put his hand in to check it was still there.

  ‘Let’s go through for tea,’ Atherton said. ‘I made some for Officer Revelle, but he didn’t linger.’

  Atherton led the way back through the house to another room. This room was more like a library. It had dark wooden shelves against each wall, each shelf full of books. More than full, Jake saw – on some the books were standing two deep. On other shelves, books lay sideways across their fellows. A wooden ladder was propped against one of the taller bookcases, allowing access to the higher shelves. A silver tray of tea things stood on a low table.

  ‘I must apologise,’ Atherton said as he poured the tea, ‘but I’m afraid I shall have to cut your visit short. I have some work I must finish this evening. A bore, I’m afraid, but it must be done. If there is anything…’ He let the offer trail away.

  ‘I wanted to ask about the soldier figures,’ Jake said quickly, accepting a cup of tea.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Atherton said. ‘When you’ve had your tea I’d like to show you something.’

  ‘And the soldiers?’ Sarah prompted.

  ‘A long story,’ Atherton said. ‘Interesting but long. And complicated. A story I am very happy to tell – to the right people. But a story, I fear, for another day.’ He sipped his tea thoughtfully. Then, abruptly he set down the cup on its saucer and stood up.

  ‘No, actually,’ Atherton announced. ‘I will show you now. Leave your tea and come with me.’

  Atherton was heading off across the room towards an ornate stone fireplace. ‘I want to show you my clock.’

  The clock was standing on the mantel above the fireplace. It looked at first like an ornate carriage clock – about a foot high. Atherton lifted off a large glass dome and set it down on a side table.

  Jake thought at first that the clock was made of the same stone as the fireplace, but as he looked closer he could see that it was paler, almost bleached white. And the mechanism was far too intricate to be made of stone. It must be ivory, he guessed.

  Because the remarkable thing about the clock was that its entire mechanism was exposed. There was no cover or case to hide any of it. Even the hands turned against a background of cogwheels and gears rather than a standard clock face. The Roman numbers were carved on a thin open circle behind them.

  ‘That’s amazing,’ Sarah said.

  ‘It’s just a clock,’ Jake whispered.

  ‘It’s called a skeleton clock,’ Atherton said, not seeming to hear Jake’s comment. ‘Partly because the mechanism is exposed. Like a skeleton.’

  ‘Partly?’ Jake asked. ‘Why are you showing us this? Is it to do with the soldiers?’

  Atherton smiled. ‘Well, I think that’s for you to find out. When you know the answer, then we can talk again.’

  Sarah was leaning past Jake, ignoring his conversation with Atherton and frowning at the clock. ‘I don’t see how it works,’ she said.

  ‘Ah,’ said Atherton, as if this was exactly the reaction he wanted.

  ‘I mean, Sarah went on, ‘I can see exactly how the mechanism works, how it drives the hands and regulates the motion. But…’

  ‘Yes?’ Atherton prompted eagerly.

  ‘Well, what makes it go? How do you wind it up? There are no weights, no key, no pendulum.’

  Atherton was nodding enthusiastically. ‘And yet it does work,’ he said. ‘As you can see. And what’s more,’ his voice dropped to a low whisper as he said: ‘It never stops.’

  Jake laughed. ‘But that’s impossible. You can’t have a clock that never stops.’

  ‘I know,’ Atherton agreed. ‘Fascinating, isn’t it? And now, I’m afraid, I shall have to ask you to finish your tea and leave me to my work.’

  *

  The sun was going down, glinting off the rippling water as it dipped below the horizon.

  ‘Dad would be fascinated by the Skeleton Clock,’ Sarah said.

  They sat on a low wall, just down from Atherton’s house, looking out across the twilight water. There was no one else in sight.

  There was a breeze and it was getting colder now the sun had set. ‘We should be heading back,’ Jake said.

  As he stood up, he looked back again at the house. The water was over the lower panes of the window of the corner room where they had looked at the soldier figures. There was nothing to show one side of the large house was standing on stilts – it looked as though it was floating on the swollen tide.

  The water below the window was dark and heavy. Perhaps it was the shadow and hint of the stilts. But the way the water rippled in the fading light made it look as though the shape was
moving. As Jake watched, the shadows beneath the display room window deepened and flexed. Then a long, dark tentacle of darkness was silhouetted against the large window. It curled across the glass.

  Sarah gasped. ‘Look! What’s that?’

  Jake had seen tentacles like that before. Curling towards him out of the murky water beneath the dome of Whispers.

  ‘Trouble. Big trouble,’ he said. ‘That’s what tried to kill me and Geoff at Whispers.’

  ‘What?!’

  Another dark limb slapped against the window. Then a third. A great bulbous shape was heaving itself out of the water, clawing at the side of the house.

  The window exploded inwards.

  Sarah screamed and grabbed Jake. He hugged her tight, neither of them able to look away.

  The huge black creature struggled through the broken window, wooden struts and stanchions snapping and falling as it slithered into the display room. For a moment it was silhouetted against the stark white light inside. A writhing mass of tentacles.

  Then the lights went out.

  A moment later they heard the sound of more breaking glass, this time from inside.

  ‘We have to get away from here,’ Jake said, grabbing Sarah’s hand.

  But Sarah pulled Jake the other way, back towards the house. ‘Come on! We have to warn Atherton.’

  ‘I think he knows,’ Jake muttered. ‘This isn’t a good idea. I’ve seen what that thing can do!’ But he was running with Sarah now.

  The front door was locked. They hammered on it, yelled and shouted. But the noise they made was lost in the unholy screeches and crashing of grass and wood and metal from inside.

  ‘Window,’ Jake decided. This time he was pulling Sarah along, racing for the corner of the house, where the water was lapping against the paved forecourt and over the broken window into the display room. ‘You believe me about that creature now?’ he gasped. But Sarah didn’t answer.

  The corner of the house was out over the water, but the wide window reached back over the forecourt. Jake hesitated as he reached the window, looking at the shattered glass and splintered frame.

  ‘Come on then.’ Sarah squeezed his hand tight, and together they jumped through into the room.

 

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