by Jenny Nimmo
"I'd better go home now Mom and Dad'll be back."
"Shall I come...?" Charlie began.
"No. It's OK. I've got Runner."
Before Charlie could say another word, Benjamin and Runner Bean walked out. The dog's tail and ears drooped dejectedly always a sign that his master was in low spirits.
"Funny boy,” Maisie remarked.
"I think I ought to see if he's OK," said Charlie. “After all, it is his birthday."
But when he opened the front door, he was just in time to see Uncle Paton walking away from the house. And this gave Charlie an idea.
"Uncle Paton, can I come with you?" called Charlie, racing after his uncle.
"Why?" Paton had stopped to put a large bundle of letters into the mailbox.
"Because... because..." Charlie caught up with his uncle. "Well, I wanted to ask you to come somewhere with me."
“And where is that?"
"To a bookshop. It's near the cathedral, and I don't want to go there on my own -it's a bit spooky."
"A bookshop?" Paton was interested, as Charlie hoped he would be. "But, Charlie, even a bookshop will be closed at this time of night."
“Yes, but I think there will be someone in this shop, even if it's closed," said Charlie and he found himself telling his uncle about Miss Ingledew and the locked case. After all, he had to trust someone, and instinct told him that Paton was on his side, even if he was a Yewbeam. A mysterious gleam had entered Paton's dark eyes. "So you want this lady bookseller to give you a key? Tell me, Charlie, where is the case?" Charlie hesitated. "I don't want anyone to know" he said. "Someone's already come looking for it. But if you really..." Paton held up his hand. "You're wise to keep it a secret, Charlie. Only tell me when you feel the time is right. Now, let's go find this bookshop." They traveled through narrow side streets, where Paton's talent for boosting the lights wasn't so conspicuous. As they entered the deserted streets near the cathedral, lamps flickered rhythmically now bright, now dim, as if they were part of a magical display.
A CLOSED sign hung behind a glass panel in Ingledew's door, but there was a low light in the window; illuminating the antique leather-bound books. Paton gazed at them, hungrily. “I ought to get out more," he murmured.
Charlie pressed the bell.
A distant voice said, "We're closed. Go away."
"It's me, Charlie Bone," said Charlie. "Could I see you for a moment, Miss Ingledew?"
"Charlie?" Miss Ingledew sounded surprised, but not too angry. “It's rather late."
"It's urgent, Miss Ingledew -about the case."
"Oh?" Her face appeared at the small glass panel in the door. "Wait a minute, Charlie."
The light in the shop went on. A chain clanked, bolts slid back, and the door opened with a familiar tinkle.
Charlie stepped down into the shop, followed closely by his uncle.
"Oh!" gasped Miss Ingledew, retreating. "Who is this?"
"My uncle, Paton," said Charlie and, looking at his uncle, realized why Miss Ingledew seemed a little put out. Paton was very tall and very dark, and in his long black coat he did look rather sinister.
"I do hope I haven't alarmed you," said Paton, extending his hand.
"Paton Yewbeam at your service."
Miss Ingledew took the hand, saying nervously. "Julia Ingledew”
"Julia," repeated Paton. "Lovely My nephew asked me to accompany him." Charlie couldn't decide whether his uncle sounded pompous or shy Perhaps a bit of both. "I've come about the key Miss Ingledew,” he said. "The key to that case you gave me."
"Key? Key?" She seemed confused. "Oh, I think they came with the, er... I'll have a look. You'd better come through to my er... Or people will think we're open again." She gave a flustered laugh and disappeared through the curtains behind the counter.
Charlie and his uncle followed. The little room behind the bookshop glowed with mellow colors, and Paton's eyes roamed excitedly over the rows of books. Miss Ingledew had obviously been reading when they arrived, for a large book lay open on her desk.
"The Incas," observed Paton, reading the chapter heading. “A fascinating subject."
"Yes," said Miss Ingledew, still agitated. She had found a small tin of keys that she proceeded to empty onto the desk. Most of the keys had labels attached to them, but some did not. "How am I to tell?" she asked. "There are so many Charlie, I think you'd better take all the keys that aren't marked and see which one fits. “I'm afraid that's all I can suggest."
“All that could be expected," said Paton. Miss Ingledew frowned at him, put a pile of keys in a plastic bag, and handed them to Charlie. "There. Bring them back when you've tried them," she said. "Thanks, Miss Ingledew" Charlie took the keys and, as there seemed to be nothing left to say or do, he led the way back through the curtains. Miss Ingledew came after them to bolt and lock the door, but as Charlie and his uncle stepped into the street, Paton suddenly asked, "May I call again, Miss In-gledew?"
"Of course," said Miss Ingledew, taken aback. "It's a shop. I can hardly stop you."
"No." Paton smiled. "But, after dark?" Miss Ingledew looked rather alarmed. "On Fridays, I'm open until eight," she said, and closed the door.
For a moment Paton stared at the door as if he were transfixed, and then he turned, suddenly exclaiming, "What a very charming woman." And his intense humming caused the nearest lamp to burn so fiercely a fine shower of glass fell out. It landed on the cobbled street with a soft, musical tinkle.
CHAPTER 5
TRAPPED IN THE DARK
Uncle Paton, you're a vandal!" said Charlie.
A rich, throaty chuckle echoed down the narrow street. Charlie had hardly ever heard his uncle laugh before.
"Someone's going to get blamed for this," he said seriously. “and I bet it won't be you."
"Of course not," said Paton. "Come on, dear boy We'd better get back before your poor mother starts to worry."
As they sped through the city Charlie had to keep taking little runs in order to keep up with his uncle's long strides.
"The faster I go the more energy I burn," explained Paton, "so there's less left over for -accidents."
"Can I ask you something, Uncle Paton?"
"You can ask, but I might not answer," said Paton.
"When did it happen? I mean, can you remember when you found out that you could make the lights brighter?" Paton said wistfully. “It happened on my seventh birthday I was so excited I shattered all the lightbulbs - there was glass everywhere children were screaming and pulling pieces out of their hair. They all went home early and I was left confused and unhappy, I didn't realize that I had caused it all until my sisters told me. They were very pleased. Thank goodness he's normal,” they said, as if shattering glass was normal and being ordinary was not. My parents were overjoyed. I had no other talents, you see. They let me finish everybody's ice cream, and then I was sick."
"Did you mind," asked Charlie, "being a Yewbeam, when you found out that it meant being different?"
Just a few doors from number nine, Uncle Paton came to a halt. "Look, Charlie," he said gravely. “You'll find that it's just a question of managing things. If you keep quiet about your talent, then all will be well. Keep it in the family as they say And never use it for frivolous reasons."
"Benjamin knows about the voices," Charlie confessed. "But he won't tell anyone."
"I'm sure he won't," said Paton, moving on again. "He's an odd little fellow For all we know he too might be a child of the Red King."
"The who?" asked Charlie.
Paton sprang up the steps of number nine. "I'll tell you about him another time," he said. "By the way I wouldn't mention the bookseller to Grandma Bone, if I were you." He opened the front door before Charlie could ask why.
Behind the door stood Grandma Bone, her face like thunder. "Where have you two been?" she demanded.
"None of your business, Grizelda," said Paton, striding past her.
“Are you going to tell me?" she asked Charlie.
"Leave the boy alone," said Paton, marching up the stairs. A second later his door closed with a bang.
Charlie ran into the kitchen before Grandma Bone could question him again. His mother was alone, reading a newspaper.
"I was with Uncle Paton," Charlie told her, "just walking."
"Oh." She looked anxious. "I suppose you know about his -what he does?"
"Yes. It's OK, Mom. It doesn't worry me. In fact, it's a relief to know there's someone else in the family who can -do something peculiar." Charlie couldn't stifle a yawn. Today he'd walked farther than he'd ever walked in his life - and faster. "I think I'd better go to bed," he said. He was about to fall asleep when he remembered the keys in his jacket pocket. He felt they should be well hidden. Grandma Bone would probably search his room tomorrow She was already suspicious. Why did she have to know absolutely everything? It wasn't fair. He put the keys in the toe of one of his soccer shoes. Hopefully she wouldn't want to look in such a smelly place.
Next morning, after breakfast, Charlie collected the bag of keys and put them back in the inside pocket of his jacket. Unfortunately there was a loud jangling noise when he leaped down the last three steps of the stairs. This happened just as Grandma Bone was coming out of the kitchen.
"What's that noise?" she asked.
"My pocket money,” said Charlie.
"No, it isn't. Show me what you've got tucked in your jacket."
"Why should I?" Charlie asked very loudly He hoped that someone would come and rescue him.
"Have you got my paper, Charlie?" asked Uncle Paton, peering over the railing.
"Not yet," said Charlie gratefully.
"He's not going anywhere until he shows me what he's hiding," said Grandma Bone.
Uncle Paton gave a sigh of irritation. "I've just given the boy a handful of coins for the newspaper. Really Grizelda, don't be so childish."
"How dare you!" For a moment Grandma Bone looked as if she were about to burst with indignation.
Charlie seized his chance. He leaped past the fuming figure and ran out of the front door. Just before he slammed it behind him, he heard Grandma Bone say. “You'll regret this, Paton!"
Charlie raced across the road to Benjamin's house. He had to ring the bell several times before the door was opened.
"What do you want?" Benjamin was still in his pajamas.
"I've got the keys to the case," said Charlie. "Can I come in?"
"Mom and Dad are asleep," said Benjamin gloomily.
"I won't make a noise, I promise."
"OK." Benjamin reluctantly let Charlie into the house. Then, in bare feet, he padded to the closet under the stairs. "You can do it," he said, opening the door.
"Don't you want to see what's in the case?" said Charlie.
"No."
"Don't be like that, Ben," Charlie begged. "It's not my fault that I'm going to that horrible school. You don't think I want to, do you? I can't do anything about it or Mom and Maisie'll be turned out on the street."
"Will they?" Benjamin's eyes widened.
"Grandma Bone owns the house. And the day before yesterday when my aunts got to hear about me and the photograph voices, they came and gave me a test. If I don't do what they want, they'll turn us out. Mom and Maisie haven't got a penny."
Benjamin gasped. "So that's what your horrible visitors were doing?" Charlie nodded. "They said I've got to go to the academy because I'm endowed-you know, the photo thing. I tried to pretend I wasn't, but they tricked me. They gave me such noisy photographs I couldn't even hear my own voice."
"Mean things," Benjamin said contritely. “I'm sorry Charlie. I thought you'd been keeping secrets from me."
"No way I just didn't want to break the news on your birthday,” said Charlie. There was a low bark from above and the boys looked up to see Runner Bean, sitting halfway down the staircase. He seemed reluctant to come any farther.
"Come on, Runner. Come and see what's in the case," coaxed Benjamin. Runner Bean couldn't be coaxed. He whined softly but didn't move.
"Suit yourself" said Benjamin. He opened the closet door and stepped inside. Charlie was about to follow, when Benjamin said, "It's gone."
“Are you sure?" Charlie didn't like the sound of this.
"I put it behind a bag of clothes. The bag's gone and so is the case." Benjamin crashed around in the closet, moving brooms and boxes, lifting books, kicking at boots. "It's not here, Charlie. I'm really sorry." Benjamin emerged from the closet.
"Go and ask your mom where's she's put it," said Charlie.
"I can't. She gets really angry if I wake her up on Sunday morning." Benjamin began to bite his lip.
Luckily before Benjamin could get too upset, Runner Bean distracted him by rushing down the stairs and leaping to the back door. He stood on his hind legs, planted his paws on the glass pane, and barked furiously.
The boys ran to the door, reaching it just in time to see a bright flash disappear behind a tree.
"The flames," breathed Charlie.
"Flames? What flames?" asked Benjamin.
Charlie told him about Mr. Onimous and his cats.
"Oh, cats," said Benjamin. "No wonder Runner's in such a state." Charlie would always wonder if what happened next had anything to do with Mr. Onimous' three flames. For it was the cats that caused them to run to the back door. And if they hadn't they would never have heard the faint tapping that came from behind another door, a door right beside them.
"What's in there?" asked Charlie.
"The cellar," said Benjamin. "It's dangerous. The steps are rotten. We never go in there."
"Somebody does." Charlie opened the door. At his feet there was a very small amount of floor and then a dark nothingness. Charlie cautiously stepped through the door and looked down. He could just make out a rickety-looking stepladder leading down into the darkness. A faint tap came from the bottom of the steps and then it stopped.
"There's a light," said Benjamin, pressing a switch inside the door. A lightbulb, hanging from the ceiling of the cellar, lit a dusty almost bare room. And now Charlie could see how precarious the steps were. Some were cracked and others had completely fallen away.
"Dad keeps saying he's going to fix them, but he never has time," said Benjamin.
"I'm going down," Charlie announced. He could see the bright silver case laying beside the last step.
"Don't," said Benjamin. "You'll have a terrible accident and it'll be my fault."
"No, it won't." Charlie began to descend. "I've got to open that case."
"Why?" wailed Benjamin. Runner Bean gave an accompanying howl.
"I want to know what's in it before I get to the academy Whoops!" Charlie's foot slipped. He turned to cling to one of the stronger steps and continued the rest of the way holding on to the sides of the ladder, while his feet found the steps that could still bear his weight. In this way with a few cracks and slithers, he managed to reach the cellar floor.
"Bring the case up here," said Benjamin, kneeling as close as he dared. Charlie was already trying to fit the first key into the lock. "I think I'll do it down here," he said. "You never know what might come out of it." The first key didn't fit, neither did the second. No sound came from the case and Charlie began to wonder if the strange tapping hadn't been the water pipes or even a rat under the floorboards. He tried the third key but had no luck with that either.
Miss Ingledew had given Charlie ten keys and, as he tried the fifth, he had a feeling that none of them would fit the silver case. Some of them were too large even to go into the lock. With a sigh, Charlie pulled out the sixth key.
"No luck?" asked Benjamin.
"Zilch," said Charlie. "It's freezing down here. I think I'll..." He was interrupted by a loud rap on the front door. Runner Bean barked and Benjamin stood up. "What shall I do?" he said in a panicky voice.
"Better see who's there before your parents wake up," Charlie advised.
“And shut the cellar door, in case whoever it is comes into the hou
se." Charlie didn't mention the light, but in his anxiety Benjamin thoughtlessly turned it off before he closed the cellar door.
"Hey!" Charlie whispered as loud as a whisper could get. Benjamin had gone. Charlie was alone in the dark. He could see neither the case nor the keys. He could feel them, though, and as he ran his hand over the rippled surface of the case, he noticed that there was a small indentation in the side. Slowly his fingers traced the words: Tolly Twelve Bells. Benjamin's mind was racing as he went to open the door. He tried to imagine who would be on the doorstep so early on a Sunday morning. Should he let them in, and if he did, could he get back to Charlie who, he now realized, he'd left in the dark?
Benjamin opened the door, just a little, and peered around it. A woman stood on the step. She had black hair and she wore a dark, sleek-looking coat. Although she'd been half-hidden by an umbrella the last time he saw her, Benjamin had a very good idea who she was. He recognized the red boots. It was one of Charlie's Yewbeam aunts.
He said, "Yes?" but didn't open the door any farther.
"Hello, dear!"The woman had a sticky sweet sort of voice. "You must be Benjamin."
"Yes," said Benjamin.
"Is my great-nephew here? Charlie? I know he's a friend of yours." She smiled sweetly.
Benjamin was saved the trouble of answering immediately because Runner Bean gave a deep, throaty growl.
The woman laughed halfheartedly. “Oh, dear. He doesn't like me, does he?" she said.
Benjamin had come to the conclusion that he must on no account tell this Yewbeam person where Charlie was. "He's not here," he said. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"Really?" The aunt raised a long black eyebrow She wasn't smiling anymore. "How strange. He said he was coming to see you."
"No, he didn't," said Benjamin.
"Oh, and how would you know?" She had lost every ounce of her sweetness.
"Because he'd be here if he had," said Benjamin, without a moment's hesitation.
At this moment, Runner Bean began to bark quite ferociously and Benjamin was able to close the door in the woman's face. When he'd locked and bolted it, he peeked through the spyhole and saw the woman glaring in at him, her face white with rage.
