by Glenn Dakin
‘Exactly,’ Commissioner Gold said. ‘So there’s no getting out of that!’ he added with a grin. Theo tried to smile again, but felt confused.
‘We have to get back down in the network,’ Theo said as he was helped out of the cylinder. ‘We’ve seen terrible things down there – Dr Pyre, the crelp, massive machines . . .’
‘Enough!’ cried the Commissioner. ‘Miss Cripps has filled me in already. You, Theo, can add to the tale when you feel strong enough. I’ve prepared a special meeting in two hours.’
‘Two hours? But we have to act now –’ Theo began. Suddenly he felt woozy, and had to be helped into a chair.
‘Patience,’ the Commissioner said firmly. ‘There is a big challenge to face – but your special skills must be used as part of a plan put together by wiser heads. There will be an attack on the network – and upon our enemy – but it will take place when the wise heads –’ here he pointed to himself – ‘are ready. Now get some rest.’
Commissioner Gold strode out of the room, leaving Theo in a daze.
‘Where are we?’ asked Theo. He had been given a white dressing gown, which smelled fresh and new. Chloe led him out of the medical section, into a rather dirty, dark corridor.
‘Come and see the wonders unfold,’ she said.
At the end of the passage, Theo saw a big sign on the wall, a red circle with a dark blue strip across the middle. On the strip, in clear white letters, was the name: Down Street.
‘Go on,’ Chloe said. ‘Ask me what it is.’
‘Down Street!’ Theo said brightly. ‘A disused London Underground station, once part of the Piccadilly line between Green Park and Hyde Park Corner.’
Chloe scowled. ‘I forgot you were brought up to be a mine of useless information. Yes – and this abandoned station is now the Orpheus Force’s centre of operations – and a secret way into the network! Come and see!’
Theo gazed wide-eyed at the signs of industry all around him. The disused station was still in the process of being converted. Chloe led him into a vast, low-ceilinged room where technicians were setting up monitors, unrolling reams of cable and unpacking machines from white boxes.
Teams of police officers, all in the same black uniform, hurried here and there, one or two of them casting Theo a curious glance. Lights, still being hastily rigged up by technicians, flickered occasionally, giving a spooky light to the scene. Two men in orange jumpsuits wandered by, wearing helmets with lights on top, and a woman was darting around with a clipboard checking things.
‘Does – does Inspector Finley know about this?’ Theo asked. Surprised by all this new police activity, he missed the dour but familiar face of the officer he knew.
Chloe’s face fell.
‘Poor old Finley has been taken off the case,’ she sighed. ‘No sign of him anywhere. Commissioner Gold has taken over now. This is a whole new ball game.’
They sat together on a pile of boxes, drinking water from a cooler that was still half-covered in its original wrapping. The cold water tasted delicious after the ashy depths of the network.
They watched as Orpheus officers flitted by on endless urgent errands.
‘It’s all coming back to me now,’ Theo said.
‘Shame,’ replied Chloe. ‘Wish I could forget the crelp. I’ll be having nightmares about them for years.’
Theo looked surprised. ‘I didn’t think anything could give you nightmares, Chloe.’
‘Are you kidding?’ she replied. ‘Nightmares come with the Vigilance territory. Can you imagine what it was like, growing up with all this talk of evil societies and smoglodytes being whispered around me? And then not being allowed to talk about it?’ Chloe gave a wan smile.
‘I didn’t let on to my guardians at the time, but it all used to terrify me. Sometimes I just wanted it to go away, so I could be a normal girl and think about princesses and ponies.’
‘Really?’ Theo looked surprised.
‘No, I made that bit up,’ Chloe said. ‘I used to like terrorising Mr Norrowmore’s cat and setting fire to things in his secret lab.’
Theo smiled, then the pair lapsed into silence.
‘It was strange, wasn’t it?’ Theo said suddenly.
Chloe looked at him, amused. ‘Strange?’ she echoed with mock astonishment. ‘After all we’ve just been through! What part did the Candle Man find strange? Narrow it down a bit!’
‘When Tristus faced Dr Pyre, he . . .’ His voice trailed away.
‘I thought Tristus was going to fight him,’ Chloe said.
‘But Tristus is an asraghoul,’ Theo stressed the word with great significance. ‘He’s a special kind of garghoul – a kind of teacher, a guide. He said he wanted to help Dr Pyre! But it all went wrong!’
‘Why do you think Dr Pyre called Tristus a traitor?’
Theo frowned. ‘Tristus told me that in the old days, he was awoken by the original Philanthropist. The bad guys expected the garghouls to work for them. But Tristus turned good and sided with the original Candle Man.’
‘Hence, traitor, I suppose,’ said Chloe. ‘Well, I think he’s cool. I just hope we can get down there in time to help him like he helped us.’
Theo awoke. It was half past three in the afternoon, according to the big clock on the wall of the ward. He had been resting – on doctor’s orders – while Chloe went away on a round of briefings.
A nurse stood next to his bed and beside her was a man in a quaint blue uniform with white piping along the shoulders, wearing a peaked cap.
‘Lord Gold’s chauffeur,’ the nurse whispered. ‘We are honoured.’
‘Ahem.’ The man coughed politely. ‘Lord Gold wishes you to take afternoon tea with him.’
‘Lord Gold?’ Theo sounded surprised.
‘Our new commissioner of police is also a member of the aristocracy,’ the nurse explained. ‘One of the richest men in the country. He’s poured loads of his own resources into Orpheus. Not everyone gets invited to tea, you know.’
It all passed in something of a daze. Theo watched the outskirts of London roll by the car window, then was driven through what seemed like a tunnel of overarching trees, out to an enormous country estate.
Theo gazed about him in wonder. He had never seen such things before, except in his books and dreams. They drove up a long gravel drive and stopped in front of an enormous white mansion, with gleaming white columns supporting an ornate arched entrance.
Theo was taken up the steps to the front door.
‘Push the bell and wait here,’ the chauffeur said. He went back to his warm car.
The door slowly opened, and a kind voice invited him to enter. As he crossed the threshold Theo stared in amazement. A cheerful, plump figure in a golden waistcoat and pale grey suit welcomed him in.
It was his old butler, Mr Nicely.
Chapter Twenty-two
Nicely Situated
‘Just our little surprise, Master Theo,’ Mr Nicely said.
Theo gazed at his old butler. When Theo had been a captive of Dr Saint, Mr Nicely had been one of the Three – the sole three people Theo was allowed to see, who ran every detail of his life and confined him to three rooms. Theo still hated the number three because of it.
Mr Nicely had been part of the evil plan to shut Theo away from the outside world and study his special powers. But at the last moment, Mr Nicely had helped save Theo’s life. Seeing the chubby, smiling man now brought back a rush of mixed memories.
‘What are you doing here?’ Theo gasped. ‘Inspector Finley told me you were in prison awaiting trial.’
Mr Nicely made a face at the mention of Inspector Finley.
‘He isn’t in charge any more,’ Mr Nicely sniffed. ‘Thank goodness. This was His Lordship’s idea. Lord Gold says he needs my expert knowledge of Dr Saint and his doings. So he’s keeping me close to hand, as it were.’
Theo followed Mr Nicely down a long hall lined with statues of great men, scientists and philosophers. Theo had no idea what their names were, but the solemn sta
tues seemed somehow to create a hush in the air. Just before they reached the doorway at the end, the butler turned to face Theo.
‘The idea being – if it might be all right with you – that if I, ahem, help sufficiently in this business and give away enough of Dr Saint’s secrets, then Lord Gold might let me be free . . . to go and work at Empire Hall again.’
Theo smiled. He almost wanted to hug his old butler, but didn’t quite know how to go about it. They both exchanged an embarrassed look.
‘“Displays of affection cause envy and resentment among members of a household”,’ Mr Nicely said, quoting Dr Saint.
‘“They are selfish and cause discomfort to sensible individuals”,’ completed Theo. They both grinned.
They arrived in a vast, beautiful library. A central reading table was surrounded by a series of enormous globes, depicting the earth, moon and various planetary bodies. Shelves radiated outwards in a clever, maze-like pattern, suggesting a labyrinth of knowledge. The high ceiling, adorned with paintings of heavenly clouds and cherubs, rose into an ornate dome.
‘Does this all belong to Lord Gold?’ Theo was struck with awe. It seemed to him that the police chief must be more like a king than an ordinary man.
‘Everything you see belongs to me,’ said a familiar, warm voice. Theo turned to see the Commissioner striding towards him. ‘Well, everything and nothing,’ he remarked. ‘I feel that knowledge, beauty, wisdom –’ he gestured at the books and statues all around him – ‘all such things truly belong not to any one man, but to the whole human race.’
Theo felt too shy to speak, but deep down he agreed with the sentiments of this extraordinary man.
‘Golden words, Lord Commissioner Gold,’ Mr Nicely observed.
‘But there is one thing more important than all the knowledge of the world,’ said Lord Gold. ‘And that is afternoon tea. Are we ready, Mr Nicely?’
‘All in hand, Your Lordship,’ Mr Nicely said as a maid appeared from a side door with a shining silver trolley.
‘Tea?’ offered Lord Gold. ‘We have English Breakfast, chamomile, nettle, mint, Chinese green . . .?’
Theo eyed the range of pots and sachets with astonishment. He settled for nettle and a fascinating pink cupcake decorated with silver sugar balls.
‘You show excellent taste,’ Lord Gold remarked approvingly.
‘It’s very kind of you – Your Lordship,’ Theo said. He had been racking his brain for the correct mode of address for a Lord and a Commissioner of police, and decided to follow Mr Nicely’s example. ‘But I feel bad, having tea while my friends are down there in the network – slaving for Dr Pyre, and only drinking cave-water.’
Lord Gold bit into a thin cracker that was lightly buttered and sprinkled with cress. He raised a finger with gentle authority.
‘Theo, you and I may be enjoying some civilised refreshment, but back there at Down Street, not a moment is being wasted in assembling our forces.’
Theo felt ashamed of his own impatience. Of course Lord Gold had everything in hand. And perhaps afternoon tea was more important than a young person like Theo could realise.
‘And can I suggest that this is important,’ Lord Gold said, drawing an imaginary line in the air between himself and Theo, with a sun-browned finger.
‘You and I,’ he continued, ‘we have to know each other, trust each other, be each other!’
Theo almost choked on a gulp of nettle tea that threatened to go down the wrong way. ‘Be each other?’
Theo frowned. The last person who had wanted to be him had been Dr Saint. He had stolen Theo’s powers with disastrous consequences.
Lord Gold smiled.
‘Excuse me,’ he said with a grave look. ‘Like my heroes around me –’ he gestured at the statues and portraits of great figures of the past – ‘I am somewhat of the philosopher.’ He rose and, with a faraway air, span his enormous globe of the world.
‘It is an idea I have,’ Lord Gold explained, ‘that in order to survive, the human race must rise above mere individuality. People must forget what they want, and act for the good of all. My aims become yours and yours mine. We become each other, and in doing so we achieve things that mere individuals cannot.’
Theo sipped his tea and nodded his head in agreement. Being with such a learned man made him wish to appear clever himself.
‘Are you ready,’ Lord Gold asked, ‘to forget your own worries and think as I think? Believe as I believe?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Theo said quietly. A sense of relief filled him. He liked being told what to do. Thinking for himself had been one of the hardest parts of all his adventures, since he had escaped his old guardian.
‘The fate of our dear friends – our dear city even – is at stake,’ Lord Gold said. ‘Only I have the knowledge to handle the crisis.’ He looked meaningfully down at Theo. ‘And I am convinced that only you, Theo, have the power to defeat Dr Pyre.’
The sudden arrival of the name of his deadly enemy into the conversation made Theo almost as uneasy as if the faceless, fire-wielding figure had just come through the door.
‘My friends don’t seem to think I’m ready to face him yet,’ Theo said.
Lord Gold nodded his head as if in agreement.
‘There are legends,’ he said, ‘that suggest Dr Pyre was the man who destroyed the original Candle Man.’
Theo nodded, his spirits sinking.
Lord Gold gave a smile that revealed tiny lines crinkling all over his bronzed face.
‘They are not true. I have read the old police files, in Scotland Yard’s Black Museum of Crime. I’ve pored over the Victorian newspapers at the British Library. There is no evidence, in any record of the time, that the power of the Candle Man was ever defeated.’
Theo looked up at his host, hardly daring to believe this good news.
‘But Chloe said –’
Lord Gold laughed. He motioned for Theo to follow him towards the door. ‘Detective Sergeant Cripps – for I have promoted her – is now part of a great plan to turn the tables on this Dr Pyre. I think you will find she has changed her tune. And you, of course, are part of the plan too. All will be revealed tomorrow.’
Theo found himself back on the gravel outside. Night had fallen. The luxury car was purring on the drive, all set to whisk Theo back to Down Street.
‘With you and Sergeant Cripps working for Orpheus,’ Lord Gold said, ‘I think we shall be just about ready for anything. Farewell – for a short while!’
Theo sank back in the soft red leather, his mind reeling. Theo’s guardian Dr Saint had been an imposing figure to face every day, but Lord Gold seemed to be altogether more dazzling.
Back at Down Street, he was surprised to see a grim, helmeted figure waiting for him at the ward. Then, with a strange misgiving, he realised it was Chloe.
‘Promoted!’ Theo said.
‘A big cheese now,’ she said, taking off her helmet. Chloe smiled, but her eyes seemed to tell another story. She looked tired and worried.
‘I’m afraid it rather changes things. Now that you’re in Orpheus too, we both have to follow orders. We can’t make things up as we go along any more.’
‘We were good at that, weren’t we?’ Theo replied. He gave a tired grin, but inside, his spirits were sinking.
‘Wheels are turning,’ Chloe went on, ‘and they’re making you and me into little parts of a big machine. I’m first into the network, five a.m. tomorrow. It’s the big attack. And oh, yes – we’re being separated.’
Chapter Twenty-three
Golden Words
‘Take a look at this!’ Freddie called out to Sam, who, rake in hand, was dragging debris out of a soot-caked furnace, and dropping it into the waiting row of trucks. Although it seemed that they had been slaving in the ash tunnel for days, it was less than fifteen hours since they had last seen Theo.
Sam dropped the rake and joined Freddie. With unusual boldness, the young lord had stopped working and crept along the tunnel to the end. From
here, the two captives could peer down, over a railing, towards the Furnace’s main entrance. There was great excitement, as Dr Pyre had returned from the mission to the Crypt. Sam stared, half in hope, half in fear, but saw no sign of his friends.
‘No Theo! No Chloe!’
‘Looks like they’ve flown the coop,’ observed Freddie. ‘But take a gander at this!’
Coming into the building was a horde of crelp, carrying a dark figure wrapped in many tendrils.
‘Look at the head – those horns,’ gasped Freddie. ‘It’s a garghoul.’
The momentous arrival had caught the attention of most of the workforce. Crelp scurried past to gather news. Even Hollister had stopped bullying the slaves to take a look.
‘Right,’ said Sam. ‘Here’s my chance!’
‘What?’
‘While everyone’s distracted. I’m going down to the dungeons. I heard old Hollister say they’re just underneath us. The rumour is they’ve got Grandad down there. I have to make sure he’s all right!’
Freddie gave Sam a long look. ‘You’re crazy,’ he said. ‘They’ll kill you if they catch you. That Hollister – he’s a thug. He’d love an excuse to crack your skull, believe me!’
‘I didn’t know you cared!’ Sam said with a grin. ‘You’ll just have to work like two men, so nobody notices.’
Freddie looked so dismayed at this prospect that Sam felt a pang of pity for him.
‘Sorry, Freddie,’ Sam sighed, ‘but I’ve got to see Magnus. You’d go if it were your dad down there.’
Freddie turned away. ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ he groaned, and picked up his rake. ‘Push off, then. But be quick!’
Sam ducked down behind the trucks again and scuttled off to the stairway. He rushed down the stone steps and was soon in the lower tunnel. Dark, airless and hot, it made him feel sick just being there. But he put the discomfort out of his mind. All that mattered now was finding his grandad.
At the first fork in the passageway Sam stopped and clapped his hand to his head in dismay. Already, he was in danger of getting lost. He looked around, took a deep breath and tried not to panic.
