The House of Puzzles

by Richard Newsome

  Gerald’s cheeks flushed.

  ‘But not as clever as I am,’ she continued. She pointed to a sign screwed to the wall. It was shaped like an arrow, pointing further along the passage, and had the words CENTRAL PARK painted in neat capital letters.

  ‘Our way out of here,’ Ruby said with pride. ‘This tunnel must run all the way under Fifth Avenue and open out somewhere in the park. If Sam and Felicity have found the professor our work here is done.’

  She beamed up at Gerald again. His cheeks turned a deeper red. There was a stirring in the pit of his stomach. Gerald looked into Ruby’s eyes.

  ‘There once was a girl named Ruby—’

  Ruby put a finger to Gerald’s lips. ‘Not really the time,’ she said. ‘We’ve still got a minotaur to track down, Theseus. Let’s try to get this door open again.’

  The colour drained from Gerald’s face and his eyes dropped to his shoes. ‘Oh, okay…’

  After a few minutes of searching, Ruby’s hand fell upon a metal lever set into the wall. She pressed her eye to the peephole to see if the way was clear, then pulled the handle. The section swung in and Ruby led the way through the gap.

  They retraced the path to where they had last seen Felicity and Sam, making sure to remember the way back to the exit.

  ‘How long have we been gone?’ Gerald asked as they neared the intersection in the passageways. ‘It must be longer than half an hour.’

  They slowed to a walk and stopped at the ashen cross on the floor.

  There was no sign of Sam or Felicity.

  Gerald was about to ask ‘What do we do now?’ when there was a hissed whisper from further down the corridor.

  ‘Gerald! Ruby!’ They looked up to see Felicity crouched in a doorway where the passage curved. They rushed to her.

  ‘We’ve found a way out,’ Gerald said to Felicity.

  ‘And we’ve found the professor,’ Felicity said. ‘Though, he does seem a bit confused.’ She took them through a zigzag of passages. ‘We think Mason Green has given him another bizarre potion,’ she said. As they rounded a bend Gerald recoiled, screwing his eyes shut and turning his face away. ‘What is that smell?’

  A pungent green mist curled from a doorway just ahead. Gerald slapped a hand over his mouth and nose; the smell was eye-watering. He could not find words to describe the odour but if a cheese factory could fart that would go part of the way to just how vile the stench was.

  Felicity tugged at his arm. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

  Gerald paused in the doorway, his hand still over his nose. He stared into a spacious room. Large white tiles lined the floor and walls. Stainless steel benches were covered with beakers, flasks and titration tubes. Messy scientific scrawl covered a large whiteboard. And next to the largest workbench stood two people: Professor Knox McElderry, wearing a stained lab coat and holding a beaker containing a bubbling iridescent blue concoction, and a very anxious Sam Valentine, clutching forceps clamped around a test tube.

  ‘Hold it still, damn you,’ McElderry said as he went to tip the brew into the tube. ‘I can’t afford to spill any.’

  The forceps wobbled in Sam’s grip, and a drop of the mixture spattered onto the floor. Instantly, a mushroom cloud of purple vapour rose from the tiles. McElderry leaped back and snatched the test tube and forceps from Sam’s hands. ‘Try not to breathe that in,’ the professor said, stoppering the beaker on the bench and taking another step back from the sizzling puddle on the floor. ‘It could stunt your growth.’

  Sam’s face went from anxious to petrified. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, shuffling in behind Felicity for protection. ‘It just slipped.’

  ‘Tell that to the people of China when that drop of super acid makes it down there,’ McElderry said. His face coiled into a ferocious scowl. ‘You may well be the stupidest boy in the world. Has anyone ever told you that?’

  Gerald took a step towards the professor. ‘You have,’ he said. ‘At least a few times.’

  With a flurry of beard, McElderry swivelled his head to glare at Gerald. ‘Have I?’ he said, taken aback for a moment. Then he returned his suspicious gaze to Sam. ‘How very astute of me.’

  Gerald crossed to the professor and placed a hand on his shoulder. McElderry spun and glowered at him. The look in his eyes stunned Gerald: the pupils were so dilated that there was almost no iris visible, just two sink holes into the bottomless depths of McElderry’s mind.

  ‘Uh, professor, it’s time to go now,’ Gerald said. He tugged gently on McElderry’s sleeve. ‘Time to go home.’

  McElderry baulked, leaning back. ‘Can’t you see I’m working on something important?’ he growled. Then he blinked, which seemed to make his pupils grow even larger, and blinked again. ‘You’re the Wilkins boy, aren’t you?’ he said.

  Gerald’s face brightened. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I’m Gerald—we met at the museum. You knew my great aunt, Geraldine.’

  McElderry’s brow furrowed, as if he was digging into the far recesses of a long-lost filing cabinet of recollections. ‘Geraldine Archer,’ he said. ‘I did know her.’ He looked again at Gerald. ‘Gerald Wilkins. I know you too.’ Then, as if a long dry riverbed had been flooded with memories, the professor took Gerald by the shoulders. ‘You’re right. We must get out of here immediately.’

  McElderry dragged Gerald through the door. Ruby, Sam and Felicity rushed after them.

  ‘We know a way out, Professor,’ Gerald said. ‘It’s just up ahead.’

  ‘I know a short cut,’ McElderry said, not looking back. ‘Far quicker. Far quicker.’

  The professor’s grip on Gerald’s arm tightened as they bustled around a tight corner, then another, and up a short flight of stairs to a heavy wooden door. McElderry threw it open and ushered Gerald through with a sharp shove in the back.

  Gerald launched through the opening and skidded to a stop. He hardly had a chance to get his bearings before Sam, Ruby and Felicity bundled into the back of him.

  They all looked up to find that they were back in the original cellar where they had fallen from the street.

  And glaring at them from the middle of a floor strewn with broken furniture and shredded paper was Sir Mason Green.

  Professor McElderry gave Gerald another prod between the shoulder blades. ‘There, Sir Mason,’ he said. ‘Gerald Wilkins and his friends, just like you asked for.’

  Sir Mason Green smiled, and raised his gun.

  Chapter 27

  Sir Mason Green snapped the padlock shut and tested the cage door. ‘That should keep you in one place,’ he said, ‘while I figure out what to do with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the professor and I have some business to discuss.’ Gerald watched Mason Green usher Professor McElderry through the door at the rear of the cellar. He laced his fingers through the wires and rattled at the lock and hinges, but the door stood firm.

  ‘Locked tight,’ he said. ‘We’re stuck.’

  The cage formed an airy box: three walls and a roof of thick intermeshing wire bolted against an unyielding brick wall in the corner of the cellar. The storage space had the look of a junk shop gone to seed. The floor was stacked with du
sty wooden tea chests and random steamer trunks plastered with the faded stickers of sea voyages of years gone by: New York, Havana, Montevideo, La Libertad, Tahiti. A roll of mouldering carpet was propped against a water-stained grandfather clock, its hands forever marking twelve. Even a ship’s wheel leaned awkwardly, and a little sadly, between a low bookcase stacked with decaying paperbacks and a filing cabinet that was missing a drawer. A large red boiler, squat and impressive, sat against the wall like a rust-caked Buddha with a robust chimney pipe that stretched from its top, through a narrow opening in the cage roof, and disappeared into the inner-gizzards of the club’s heating system. A manufacturer’s plate bolted to its rounded belly proclaimed in cast iron lettering: Product of Kincaid Foundries, Coopertown, Pennsylvania.

  Ruby, Sam and Felicity sat in a disconsolate group, each perched on a tea chest, their chins cupped in their hands, as if waiting to be sold along with the rest of the junk. ‘What is going on with Professor McElderry?’ Ruby said. ‘He seemed pretty normal, and then he takes us straight to Green like some trained chimpanzee.’

  ‘Did you see the look on his face when Green thanked him?’ Felicity said. ‘If McElderry had a tail he would have wagged it. Pathetic.’

  Gerald shook his head and frowned. ‘He must be under the influence of some drug,’ he said. ‘But instead of being a zombie lurching around the place he’s able to do whatever Mason Green needs him to do. Sam, what was that blue stuff in the beaker?’

  Sam screwed up his face at the memory of the stench that had filled the laboratory. ‘The only thing he said was not to get any on my clothes. Or fingers. Or anywhere else for that matter. It was like whatever he was working on was the most important thing in the world. Nothing else mattered.’

  Gerald scoured his brain for anything that might make sense of the situation. The only conclusion he could reach was that the professor was the victim of another potion from the poisoner’s cookbook that was the Voynich manuscript. ‘Whatever the reason he’s acting this way, Professor McElderry still needs our help,’ he said.

  Felicity jumped down from her tea chest and wandered towards the rear of the storage cage, kicking at boxes and trunks as she went. ‘In case you missed it, we could do with some help ourselves,’ she said. ‘It’s still hours before Jasper Mantle is due to turn up and let you and Alex out of the house.’

  ‘And what’s he going to find when he does get here?’ Ruby said. ‘An empty room and no sign of either of you. No one has any idea where we are. We might as well have been swallowed up by the earth.’

  ‘We can’t wait for someone to come rescue us,’ Gerald said, rounding on Ruby. ‘We have to rescue ourselves.’

  ‘And how do you suggest we do that?’ Ruby said.

  Gerald narrowed his gaze. ‘Whatever it is, we need to do it before Green comes back. We’re wasting the time we’ve got while he’s not here.’

  ‘Then don’t let us slow you down, oh fearless leader,’ Ruby snapped.

  Frustration rose in Gerald’s belly. He flashed out a hand and grabbed Ruby by the sleeve. She had dismissed him one too many times that day. Ruby’s response was instant and explosive. She thrust both her hands against Gerald’s chest. ‘Don’t!’ she cried.

  The force of the shove took Gerald by surprise and he stumbled backwards. His foot caught the corner of a steamer trunk and he lost his balance. He threw out his hands for support. They landed flat against the boiler.

  Ruby’s eyes widened with horror. ‘Oh no—’

  Gerald’s face contorted. He peeled his outstretched palms from the red steel and held them up to Ruby.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ruby said, dread in her face. ‘Oh, what have I done?’

  Gerald’s mouth opened wide…

  ‘Well, there’s a strange thing,’ he said. ‘The boiler’s stone cold.’

  Ruby unleashed a storm of fists onto Gerald’s chest. Gerald held up his arms to ward off the blows and laughed. ‘You’re not so worried about hurting me now, are you?’ he said, as the punches continued. ‘Serves you right for being rude to me. Again.’

  Ruby gave Gerald one last punch and glared at him. Gerald thought he caught a twinkle in her eyes. ‘I hate you, Gerald Wilkins,’ Ruby said. She tried to suppress a grin but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards.

  Felicity popped her head around from behind the boiler. ‘Hey, there seems to be a riddle of some sort on the back of this thing.’

  Gerald’s head bobbed up like a dog spotting a squirrel. He looked at Ruby.

  ‘A riddle?’ they chorused. Gerald and Ruby dashed to the back of the cage.

  They found Felicity kneeling on the floor, peering up at a cast iron plate riveted to the boiler’s underbelly. ‘It’s a bit difficult to read,’ she said. Ruby eased in next to her, sliding onto her stomach.

  ‘Let’s see,’ she said. ‘Who makes me does not need me; who buys me does not use me; who uses me will never see me.’

  There was a long silence, broken when Sam said, ‘Well that’s just stupid. Who buys something then never uses it?’

  ‘You’ve clearly never seen my mother at the Boxing-Day sales,’ Gerald said. ‘What’s that circular thing next to the riddle?’

  Ruby looked to the left. ‘It’s a dial—like a combination lock but with letters instead of numbers. There’s five concentric rings and a central hub, each with letters spaced around the outside.’ She pushed her fingers against the outermost ring and twisted. ‘And they turn! I think we have to work out the riddle and dial the answer.’

  ‘What happens if we get it right?’ Sam asked.

  ‘If it’s anything like the last riddle Ruby and I saw, it could get us out of here,’ Gerald said.

  ‘And if we get the answer wrong?’ Felicity said.

  Gerald tilted his head to the side. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Whatever it does, the answer has six letters,’ Ruby said.

  ‘What are the letters around the outside ring?’ Felicity asked. ‘That will at least give us a clue to the first letter in the answer.’

  Ruby squinted again. ‘It looks like there’s every letter in the alphabet there,’ she said.

  ‘Terrific,’ Gerald said. ‘So what’s the solution to the riddle?’

  ‘Who makes me does not need me,’ Ruby read again. ‘That could be anything. People make stuff to sell all the time that they don’t use themselves.’

  ‘How about the last line?’ Felicity said. ‘Who uses me will never see me. Who can’t see things? Blind people?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Or dead people.’

  Ruby turned on her brother. ‘Don’t be an idiot. We’re trying to solve a—’

  ‘The answer is ‘coffin’,’ Sam said. ‘It’s obvious.’

  Ruby turned to read the riddle again.

  ‘Genius,’ she said. She dialled the outermost ring so ‘C’ was at the top, then soon had COFFIN spelled out from top to the centre.

  ‘Done,’ Ruby said. She looked about expectantly but nothing stirred.

  ‘Maybe you need to press in the centre button for it to work,’ Gerald said.

  Ruby pushed the hub. It shifted in about
a centimetre with a sharp click.

  Then a sheet of metal dropped from the back of the boiler, flat on top of Ruby’s head.

  She let out a howl and wrapped her hands over her crown, rolling onto her back.

  Gerald leaned over Ruby and peered into the dark interior of the boiler. He reached inside and pulled out an ornate gold key on a gold chain. He held it up and the key spun slowly, glinting in the light. It was about five centimetres long with two cross arms forming an X at the tip.

  ‘That’s the strangest-looking key I’ve ever seen,’ Sam said. ‘What do you think it opens?’

  Gerald cast his eyes around the cage, searching for a keyhole. ‘Hey Ruby, could you keep the moaning down?’ he said. ‘I’m trying to concentrate.’

  Ruby peeled open an eyeball and stared death at Gerald. She was about to give him something to really concentrate on when a jangling ring filled the cellar.

  Gerald poked his head out from behind the boiler to see a black telephone on a bench by the far wall. The phone was one of the few survivors of Mason Green’s tantrum.

  The telephone continued to ring.

  Gerald ducked back and helped Ruby up from the floor. ‘This will bring Green running,’ he said. ‘We better shift to the front of the cage so he can see us. The last thing we need is him poking around back here.’

  Seconds later the silver-haired billionaire walked into the cellar. He shot a quick glance at the cage and, satisfied that its occupants were still in place, hurried to the phone. He snatched the handset from the cradle and pressed it to his ear.

  ‘Yes?’ he said. He listened intently for a moment, his face darkening. ‘Empty,’ he said. ‘If it was ever in the box, it is not there now.’

  Sam elbowed Gerald in the ribs. ‘Who’s he talking to?’ he whispered.

  Green’s voice strengthened. ‘I have told the professor to stop work on the potions. The full translation of the manuscript is his top priority. Along with the coded message from Jeremy Davey. It must hold the key to all of this.’ Green listened for a moment, his head bobbing in agreement. ‘Of course. Do you take me for a fool? The curiosity machine takes precedence. The final mechanism is still a mystery to us.’