The Bad Luck Lighthouse

by Nicki Thornton

  ‘What a stinking rotten thing to say,’ scowled Celeste. She was biting her lip so hard it must hurt. She turned to Seth, her face blanched except for two bright spots of colour high in her cheeks.

  ‘Time we moved,’ said Seth gently, starting to ease her away.

  They padded swiftly down the stairs. Celeste’s face looked grim and had a set look about it. ‘I’ve decided I like your plan, Seth. Someone’s been plotting. Let’s find out which one of the rotters killed her.’

  13. Measles Across the Map

  The last thing Seth was expecting to discover when he went to collect the remains of lunch from the dining room was Inspector Pewter, sitting alone at the big table among a litter of abandoned cups and plates, with a big mug of tea in front of him and a thick slice of fruit cake to munch on. And he was poring with great concentration over a vast map he’d spread across the polished table, pushing aside the remains of the wonky sandwiches.

  He looked up guiltily when Seth burst in, nearly slopping the mug of tea he was slurping.

  Seth glimpsed the outline of a long, thin bit of coastline that you could almost imagine was in the shape of a snake’s head with an open mouth, and an island. Just enough to guess it was a map of the local area. It was covered with crosses marked in pencil, like it had measles.

  From the way Pewter so hurriedly folded away the map out of sight, Seth could have believed the inspector was secretly on the trail of a vast hoard of buried treasure he didn’t plan on sharing. He really longed to know what the inspector was up to.

  ‘What ho, young Seth. Nice of you to drop in. Aren’t Mr and Mrs Bunn missing you? And – perhaps I got this wrong – weren’t you promising me you’d spend all your free time practising your magic? I must have misunderstood.’ He shook his head. ‘Because here you are.’

  Seth avoided looking directly into his blue eyes.

  ‘Um. you made it sound inviting . . . and the teleport was just shimmering there. Thought I’d just take a peek and go home, but then they needed help in the kitchen and I got . . . caught up with everything. And I’m pretty certain, sir, that someone here has been up to no good. We should—’

  ‘You are right to be concerned.’

  This floored Seth completely. He’d got so used to getting things wrong. So his suspicions weren’t totally fanciful?

  ‘You are correct that they are indeed desperate for help in the kitchen. Before you know it, it will be dinner time and I don’t want to be the one telling them there is nothing more than a lot of very fresh and salty air to eat. Don’t mind me if you’ve work to do.’

  ‘Surely no one is going to be thinking of food?’

  ‘In my experience there is seldom a time when no one thinks about food. Which makes your skills, young Seth, one of the most valuable in the universe.’

  Seth had been longing to talk to Pewter and share all his thoughts about the mystery of Mina Mintencress. If he couldn’t impress Pewter with his magic, he might at least show he’d picked up a few detecting skills. But he sensed it wasn’t the time for sharing. The inspector was probably mad at him – he had every right to be.

  But he couldn’t quite stop himself asking questions. ‘Why were you called in, sir? It can’t really be the ghost . . . unless . . .’ His thoughts were racing and he wondered why he hadn’t seen it straight away. There could only be one explanation why a magical detective was on this case. ‘Someone is using the haunting story to cover up magic! Sinister magic!’

  Pewter began to place cups and plates on a tray as the sound of thunder grew more distant.

  ‘Ah yes, I can see you have been listening to all the stories. What great stories they are too. The electricity failures, the slamming doors. But it is a sad truth that accidents happen all the time. And you have to stop yourself leaping ahead and reaching all sorts of conclusions based on very iffy evidence.’ Pewter chuckled. ‘Magic!’

  Seth felt his face flush. It was a brush-off. He’d hoped that with the death of Mina Mintencress, Pewter might put aside any anger he justly felt about Seth’s unwelcome arrival. But quite clearly he was determined not to discuss the case with Seth.

  He took the tray from Pewter and headed for the kitchen, almost colliding with Celeste, who gave a half-hearted apology and slumped off to collapse at the big kitchen table.

  Seth, muttering crossly under his breath, did what he always did when he was troubled – got cooking. He decided to whizz up a quick apple cake. He found butter, sugar and eggs, folded in flour. He put half the mixture in a cake tin and then layered in thin slices of apple, sprinkled with brown sugar and cinnamon, and topped with the rest of the cake mixture. He slammed it into the oven, not even responding when he heard Pewter’s footsteps leave the dining room and head up the stairs. He longed to go with him, but fought the urge to follow and hung around the kitchen door, hoping he might get a glimmer of an idea about what Pewter was up to. He didn’t have the heart to go where he wasn’t wanted.

  Only then did a thought strike him – had Pewter deliberately steered Seth away from talking about magic because right outside the door had been Celeste Crackling, listening in?

  Another flash of lightning made the lights flicker feebly. It was like a parting farewell from the retreating storm, and revealed Brockler creeping down the plush spiral stairs, his perfect hair dishevelled and his crisp white shirt untucked and crumpled.

  Seth darted back into the safety of the kitchen and then slipped after him, curious to see what he might be up to. The dining room was empty. But when Seth slowly pushed the door to the lounge, he spotted Brockler crouched low, going through a shelf containing a few books and board games that would provide some entertainment for guests.

  Brockler looked around and started in surprise when he saw Seth framed in the doorway.

  ‘Couldn’t eat a thing when you brought lunch,’ he said mournfully in his posh voice. ‘Now I’m totally famished. Could you bring me a sandwich?’

  Seth simply nodded and returned quickly with a small selection of sandwiches left over from lunch, although he was pretty sure the last thing on Brockler’s mind had been food. It looked as if he was searching for something.

  ‘I’m so sorry about Miss Mintencress,’ Seth said, placing the plate on a low table in front of an uncomfortable-looking chair with metal arms.

  Brockler had a fine face, the sort of face you’d call beautiful rather than handsome, with high cheekbones, dark brows, big, dark eyes and thick, glossy hair, and finery from his clothes to his fingernails.

  He looked at Seth as he helped himself to a ham and mustard sandwich.

  ‘She was a force of nature stronger than even this storm. Completely determined and always convinced she was right.’ He looked upwards as another peal of thunder was heard in the distance, but it was a grumble now, not even a roar.

  ‘So what will happen now?’ asked Seth. ‘Will this hotel ever open or should I start to look for another job?’

  Brockler narrowed his eyes. ‘Guess I have to decide whether she was really on to something with this ridiculous get-away-from-it-all lighthouse-hotel plan.’

  He started to eat another sandwich – tiny bites with a delicate little mouth – as Seth bustled about, plumping cushions and tidying.

  ‘Mina insisted get-away-from-it-all should mean no television, just a few tedious board games, and all that nature and endless staring at the sea.’ He flapped at yet another window, another view of still-enormous waves. ‘Now, I could use a really good film. People need car chases, exploding helicopters and a really evil bad guy on holiday, a story where it all ends happily.’

  His eyes misted over and he reached for a slice of fruit cake. ‘Lucky I managed to get here before it got completely out of control. She’d have got through her family fortune in no time. Putting Lark Sunrise in charge of decorating! But for all that, Mina was smart. And she was convinced this place would be a little goldmine.’ He looked at Seth with a self-satisfied smile. ‘I don’t think we need to talk about new
jobs just yet.’

  It was clear Brockler was convinced he now had control over the Mintencress millions. Lark had accused him of being behind the stories of ghosts that had spooked the builders and sabotaged the project. The big question was – were the two connected? And that still didn’t explain Pewter’s involvement. And how did that square with Seth’s growing suspicion that it wasn’t a ghost that was causing all the accidents, but that someone had been using magic? Surely that was the only explanation for Pewter being here.

  ‘Do you believe the place is haunted, sir?’

  A devious look crossed Brockler’s face and his eyes narrowed. ‘I believe there is much that we simply can’t explain,’ he said cautiously. ‘I’ve been going into the history of this place. A really fascinating man, Soul Snakesmouth, the previous owner. A man full of secrets.’

  ‘Secrets? What sort of secrets?’

  ‘If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets. Besides, we all have the odd secret or two.’ Brockler gave a little chuckle that only made him look more furtive than ever.

  He finished the fruit cake, delicately brushed away the crumbs and grabbed something that had rolled out of his pocket while he had been sitting in the chair. It was that strange carved object he had taken from the bottom of the bath after they’d removed Mina’s body.

  ‘That’s really interesting,’ Seth said, slipping in a little closer. He was fascinated to see now that the pendant was a carved giant snake winding around a lighthouse. It had wide-open jaws, as if it was devouring the building. Where the light would be at the top, were two disturbing red stones for eyes.

  ‘Got some bits and pieces from the old hotel in Snakesmouth and turned this into a pendant as Mina wanted to wear it, for good luck. Poor, poor Mina.’ Brockler placed it around his own neck.

  Before Seth could ask the lawyer anything more, Alfie hurled himself into the room and on to one of the wide armchairs, crossed his arms and started moaning stubbornly about not being allowed outside to look at the storm.

  ‘The best bit has passed already and you made me miss it!’

  He looked tearful and scowled at Lark, who followed him in, throwing an imploring glance at Brockler.

  Brockler cleared his throat and Seth guessed he might be remembering how he’d insisted that he was in charge of Alfie now Mina was dead.

  ‘Now let me see,’ Brockler said, tucking in his shirt and smoothing his dark hair. ‘I think I know what someone’s favourite is. How about we all play Pirate Pete’s Party?’

  Alfie instantly brightened and bounced forward eagerly. ‘Oh yes. You’re really, really good. I want to beat you.’

  Brockler smiled and reached across tentatively to ruffle the boy’s hair. ‘That’s my favourite too!’

  ‘Thanks, Hari,’ said Lark. ‘It’s good and noisy. Help take all our minds off things.’ She added in an even lower voice. ‘Perhaps this once you could actually let him win?’

  Brockler offered Alfie his hand. ‘Lead on, pirate! And tonight we’re going to check your bedroom before you go to sleep. We’ll check the wardrobe for ghosts, under the bed for nasty monsters.’

  ‘I keep telling you, it’s an angel. It’s not monsters or ghosts. Get it right!’

  ‘Whatever you call it,’ said Brockler. ‘We’ll make sure there are no ghosts in your room who are going to come and get you.’

  It was only after Lark, Hari and Alfie had left that Seth realized what the little boy was saying. It sounded very much as if he might be the only person here who thought he’d actually seen the ghost.

  14. Strange Happenings

  ‘ Whiskers and white mice! Now did that sound to you like someone upset that Mina just died?’ purred a voice from under a low table across the lounge. ‘There are mysteries to be solved here and I have a feeling you’ve got ideas.’

  ‘Nightshade! You’ve dried off nicely,’ said Seth, bending to stroke her soft fur. ‘Hope you thanked Inspector Pewter for rescuing you. What did he say when he saw you?’

  ‘You mean, how livid was he?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Seth could sometimes imagine Nightshade was shrugging, although he wasn’t completely sure cats actually could shrug.

  ‘You know Pewter – I never have a clue what the heck he’s thinking.’

  ‘No, but do you know what I’m thinking, Nightshade? I’m convinced Mina’s death is murder.’ Seth’s many thoughts tumbled over themselves as he tried to get them into some sort of order. Brockler was right about one thing. Everyone seemed to have a secret.

  ‘Celeste was convinced Brockler and Lark were plotting against Mina. Lark will come into a chunk of money and can make a life for herself, rather than tagging along with Mina, and she definitely doesn’t want to be here any more. They all seem to be upsetting each other. Alfie’s troubled and thinks he’s seen the ghost, an angel or something. He’s the one who gets most of the Mintencress millions . . . so whoever takes care of Alfie gets control of the fortune.’

  ‘Hmm, yes, but none of that matters if you can’t work out how Mina Mintencress could have been killed. You were also thinking about Angelique, weren’t you?’ said Nightshade, cleaning herself with her rough pink tongue.

  ‘I was not!’ It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of Seth. ‘She’s not bothered about me, why would I waste my time thinking about her?’

  ‘Maybe because she’s the best thing that ever happened to you. And someone dying in a locked room – don’t tell me it’s not making you think back to the reason she first turned up at the Last Chance Hotel. You don’t believe there are ghosts here. You think there’s someone stirring up magic at the bottom of it all.’

  ‘All right, I do.’ Seth pulled out a chair and Nightshade snuggled onto his lap. ‘Anyway, I am going to do magic perfectly well by myself, without asking Angelique for help. And I’m sure I can solve this case even if Pewter’s not speaking to me.’

  ‘Sure. Just don’t call me next time you try to get a door or a spoon to move, or to boil milk. Right now, I think you fancy yourself as a bit of a detective. You’re enjoying yourself. Come on then – which of them is it?’ she asked, sticking his legs with claws as sharp as needles as she got herself more comfortable.

  Seth often felt he was only floundering on the very edges of understanding the magical world, but his understanding was definitely growing, and he was trying to work out how magic might have been used here.

  ‘Remember why Angelique Squerr was working undercover at the Last Chance Hotel? She was investigating my mother.’

  ‘And you found out your mum was one of the dead sorcerers’ club?’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Missing Feared Exploded – that’s what they call those forty-two sorcerers who died in that explosion or battle or whatever it was, the one they only ever refer to as the Unpleasant. Their status is Missing Feared Exploded because it’s impossible to figure out exactly who died. I do pay attention, you know. Mostly because no one ever pays any attention to me. That’s Angelique’s job, right? To identify exactly which of those forty-two MFE sorcerers are definitely dead, and not just lurking about and planning more trouble.’

  Seth was nodding. ‘The Unpleasant was all because of a crisis in the magical world. Magical folk were once everywhere. They took on apprentices, training up anyone who showed they might have a spark of magic. But belief in magic started to dwindle, sorcerers became more secretive and seeking out those who might have a spark of magic – all that bringing fresh people in – stopped. And the real trouble is, there’s no guarantee you pass magical ability on to your children.’

  ‘Magic is starting to die out.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Seth tried to think everything through as he stroked Nightshade’s glossy fur.

  ‘Some of the magical families didn’t at all like a move to bring back apprenticeships that are open to anyone,’ finished Nightshade, at last in a comfortable position and beginning to purr like a kettle as Seth tickled her behind her ears. ‘And it all l
ed to one huge row, the Unpleasant, and all these sorcerers Missing Feared Exploded. And one big old mess that Angelique’s department has the misfortune of trying to sort out.’ She purred deeply. ‘But, come on, that’s all very well, but what has that to do with Mina Mintencress?’

  Seth scratched his own ear. ‘I was thinking how Angelique uncovered all sorts of magic at the Last Chance Hotel, didn’t she? Leftover magic from when my mum was alive. Things we never realized were magical artefacts and didn’t have a clue what they really did. What if exactly the same thing is happening here? Some sort of leftover magic causing electrics to fuse and accidents?’

  ‘You think a sinister sorcerer used to live here, Seth?’

  ‘I do. There are stories about Soul Snakesmouth. He disappeared one night about eight years ago and was presumed dead, and I think he could have been one of the forty-two – an MFE.’

  Nightshade stopped purring. ‘I can see how all of that makes perfect sense, except for one problem. Think about Angelique’s lot, S3, the Sinister Speculation Services, and what they do. Their job is to swoop into a house with a magical history, right? They have a good old rummage about. And if they decide the sorcerer is definitely not coming back, they have a clear out of any magic lurking and make the building safe for other people to live in. They call it cleaning. Angelique calls herself a cleaner – right?’

  ‘Yeeesss. Angelique is brilliant at finding out if there are signs of recent magic and spotting evidence that an MFE is likely still alive.’

  ‘Well then, if this was once the home of a sinister sorcerer and an MFE, wouldn’t S3 have been all over this place, cleaning?’

  ‘You’d think so,’ said Seth slowly.

  ‘But Pewter’s here,’ Nightshade pointed out. ‘Why Pewter? He investigates magical crime, doesn’t he? He’s MagiCon – not S3. He’s not after the dead sorcerers’ club.’