by Karl Fish
‘Take no notice of me, dear. Just reminds me of someone very special and the true meaning to be a Priory girl. Not to matter, really.’
The pair smiled cordially at one another waiting for the bells of St Joan’s to strike seven.
Aggie and Eric had been listening intently. Aggie more so then ever once word of the crest was mentioned. Eric was just about to start thrashing about hoping Nelly would hear him in return. Aggie stopped him immediately.
‘Nelly wouldn’t stand a chance,’ she mumbled to Eric. Dove had overcome the three of them so easily and had either the pistol or the poison ready to deploy. Nelly was not as strong as her sister and would soon be overcome.
‘We need another plan,’ he mumbled back, the blood on his cheek beginning to dry.
Aggie nodded as they sat back and began to think.
Seven crystal clear chimes echoed through the spires and broke the awkward silence in the governess’s room. Nelly slurped her remaining tea and stood up.
‘So grateful for your hospitality, Governess. I shall bake you a cake to accompany that fine tea.’ Nelly smiled ‘But first I shall go and help with the search party. Perhaps my sister is with the missing children.’
‘Missing children?’ Dove feigned ignorance.
‘That’s right, Eric and Gemima Peabody and the new girl, Chatsmore,’ Nelly informed her.
‘Oh dear, I wasn’t aware of that. Perhaps I should help too?’
‘That would be very noble of you,’ Nelly advised her.
‘That’s exactly what I will do then.’ Dove smiled, not believing her luck. ‘I shall close the school today and all teachers and pupils may help with the search.’
‘Bravo, Governess. All the children will appreciate that. Though Lady Huntington-Smythe may not,’ Nelly said, delighted.
‘I am sure she is busy enough organising the WI.’ Dove chuckled back.
Aggie and Eric looked at one another. They had no chance of making themselves known now, not if the school was closed. They needed to escape, they needed a plan more than ever, and before nightfall.
*****
Turning to the final page of the list, Wink Waverley smiled, bemused by what she was reading.
Thompson unclipped his ankle holster and trained his gun on her.
‘You could hang for that, Thompson. Should you be wrong.’ She laughed, unflinching.
‘Why would you laugh at such a serious allegation?’ he asked angrily.
‘Because whatever it is you think you know, it is wrong. I know nothing of this organisation OSIRIS.’
‘That’s what you are bound to say, just like Malling said it, just like his men said it. All his men! All denying it.’
‘I admit it looks more than suspicious. Care to consider what the key denominator is though?’ Wink allowed a momentary silence before she then volleyed back. ‘OSIRIS! Thompson, OSIRIS!’
Thompson paused with his trigger finger poised. Wink could make any move, any number of hidden switches or alarms, and he would be incarcerated. Though he may take her out before help arrived.
‘Cigarettes, pass me your cigarettes,’ e demanded.
‘I don’t buy them pre-made, dear boy, haven’t you learnt anything? I prefer to roll my own. Can’t stand those damn filters,’ Wink replied, throwing a smart leather pouch of tobacco and papers over the desk.
Thompson thumbed the tobacco in the pouch. Strains of brown, orange, amber but definitely no violets or blues shimmering through. It was not like the tigress’s preferred vape. No exotic filter, no silk thread, just raw tobacco and liquorice papers. He tossed them back at her.
‘Sit,’ he ordered.
‘Mr Thompson, if I had wished to alert any of any guards, I have innumerable ways to do so. So why don’t you lower that weapon? And don’t believe for one minute you are in charge.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Thompson replied. ‘Not until I speak with Malling too.’
‘Very well.’ Wink frowned. ‘Let’s call him in.’
*****
‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,’ Wilson Bott announced as the paltry volume of retirees, drunks and misfits who were willing to search for the children gathered around him at the cenotaph. Not one single member of the WI despite the Sheriff’s best efforts. Not even McGregor, much to Elizabeth’s disgust as she arrived like a child pied piper up the Steep.
‘Mr Bott!’ Elizabeth shouted with a steady stream of evacuee children behind her. ‘Governess Dove has closed the school today to help with the search for the children.’
‘And my sister,’ Nelly Parker piped up.
Elizabeth flashed her a look. Sister Harvey was missing too? She wasn’t sure what the broken glass and crest meant but she needed to inform Nelly right away.
‘OK then, children. Each adult will coordinate the search in a grid like so,’ Bott announced, pointing out a marked map of Ambledown. ‘You, children, are the eyes and legs of the search. Listen to the adults carefully and hopefully, we will find them sooner rather than later. I’m sure you know Eric and co’s preferred hideouts.’
‘Eric’ll be dead if we don’t!’ shouted out a few of the disgruntled children owed significant pennies by the Peabody boy.
Wilson Bott didn’t have the heart to point out the irony of that statement. If they didn’t find the children it was likely they were dead. Instead, he gave a reassuring pat on Elizabeth’s shoulder as he blew his whistle for the search to commence.
‘Nelly, Mrs Parker?’ Elizabeth enquired.
‘Yes, dear, how can I help?’
‘I’m not sure what it means, but I found this earlier this morning while you were taking tea with the governess.’ Elizabeth presented the crest to her. Nelly smiled and a slight tear welled in her eye. ‘What does it mean, Mrs Parker?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘It means many things to many people but in today’s context, I believe the children and my sister are in extreme danger. We should inform Gideon right away.’
Chapter 47
The Protocols
‘You’re treading a very thin line, Wink,’ Malling bawled at Waverley as Smith and Jones escorted him into the Burgundy room.
‘First, you incarcerate me and then you break all protocols by bringing my men here. None of them knew each other before this day and now you have jeopardised national security,’ he continued in a high-pitched yell.
‘Please, don’t allow me to take all the blame, Thompson. Do bring Colonel Malling up to speed, preferably before your court marshall,’ Wink advised.
Thompson was cornered now and the tables turned. However he played his hand, at least one of his superior officers could overwhelm him. Wink had known that all the while and comfortably sparked up a cigarette again. Thompson only had the beginnings of a preposterous theory. Given that Belle Soames was likely to leave for the coast within the next quarter of an hour he had to be fast but at least she could inform Gideon and Nathaniel if all else failed.
‘Come on, boy. I don’t have all day,’ Malling snapped. ‘Facts, no fiction, please.’
Pulling the card and photograph from his pocket, he laid them out in front of Malling. Gesturing to Wink, she handed over the list too.
‘This list was discovered in Professor Montague Soames’ office. Montague Soames is –’
‘I bloody well know who he is,’ Malling interrupted him. ‘Cut to the chase!’
‘OK,’ Thompson acknowledged, continuing succinctly and at speed. ‘The list was found in Monty’s office, placed there during the night that this charitable foundation,’ he continued, placing the embossed card of OSIRIS in front of him, ‘provided a seminar. The list of attendees, if you care to skim it, is almost entirely made up of the men outside, your men. With the exceptions of yourself, Wink, and Major Boyd Collingdale.’
‘And Draper, I assume?’ Malling replied, pointing to his now-missing colleague in the photograph.
‘Therein lies an anomaly. Not Draper, no. He is not on the list,’ Thompson confirmed.
‘He may have infiltrated them,’ Wink interjected. ‘He’s missing, remember? Kidnapped, we have presumed.’
‘Doesn’t enlighten me much, Thompson. More holes than Swiss cheese, my boy. I don’t know where to begin to tear this apart,’ Malling grumbled.
‘If you would be so kind, ma’am.’ Thompson gestured to Wink to turn off the light from behind her desk. Plunged into darkness, he lit the ultraviolet beam. ‘Do you see it, sir? Do you see it now?’
Malling picked up the photograph and stared intently at the illuminated image of himself. ‘What the hell does that mean?’ he asked.
‘The hawk head is suggestive of a leading Egyptian deity. My expert advises an extremely important presence.’
For a moment Malling issued a self-indulgent laugh before he realised it wasn’t praise being heaped upon him. He glanced at Draper’s totem too. ‘And this? The dog?’ Malling asked once more.
‘Lord of the Underworld. A guide into the afterlife by all accounts,’ Thompson replied
‘Doesn’t surprise me with that secretive sod.’ Malling erupted in laughter.
‘Colonel Malling, may I remind you this is of national importance,’ Wink interrupted.
‘Oh, come on, Wink. A bit of paint, a light show. What next, smoke and mirrors?’
‘Funnily enough,’ Thompson replied, revealing the flickering luminance within the tobacco at the end of the exotic cigarette stub.
All of them gazed on as Thompson rotated the cards to reveal either a Yes or No, which iridescently illuminated on each revolution.
‘Still not convinced it’s anything but a sham. A card with words in invisible ink. Christ, we’ve been using that idea for years.’
‘Not like this we haven’t,’ Thompson was keen to challenge him.
‘Someone is doing a very fine job of disrupting the status quo by the looks of things to me.’ Malling stood his ground.
‘And what about all of these too?’ Thompson finished by throwing all the cards from Malling’s men on Wink’s desk. The illuminated pinks and purples and the multiple instructions shone brightly in front of them. ‘So, you think it’s still a sham now?’ Thompson questioned. ‘I have seen bigger and far more significant examples of such writings daubed across the walls of the British Museum, where this all began. I have a witness too. Oh, bugger what’s the time?’ Thompson changed tone suddenly realising they had been talking for over an hour and Belle may have already departed.
‘Five past,’ Wink replied, turning the light on.
‘Oh no, Belle.’ Thompson lowered his weapon and went to leave.
‘Oh no, not so fast,’ Wink ordered, a pistol now trained on him. She must have had it secured from beneath her desk during those dark moments.
‘I am sure Miss Soames is more than capable and trust you put in place a method of communication?’ said Wink.
‘Bravo, Wink,’ Malling replied, snatching Thompson’s pistol.
‘You refer to me as ma’am, Malling. And for the record, I believe that Thompson at least believes it himself, despite not one of us able to unravel this mystery. Do you trust Miss Soames? Do you believe in this theory?’ she said, returning his pistol back to him in front of the protesting Colonel Malling.
‘I do, ma’am. But it is yet to unravel, as you say.’
‘Then let us stick to what we know. Colonel Malling, I am giving you an express order to explain the Protocols to Thompson.’
‘But, Wink–’ Malling challenged forthrightly.
‘It’s ma’am and don’t let me repeat myself again. This man risked a court marshall or even a bullet to protect this country. Could’ve easily popped me if he was a traitor. A little goodwill may just convince him otherwise so the least you can do is explain your day job. Understood?’
*****
Erket examined the hidden chamber. The white polished stone with deep grey and black veins covered the floors and the walls. There was a ceiling of sorts, consisting of a symmetrical framework of wooden joists to support the interconnected laboratory above. The walls sloped inward, joining the room above, and leading towards the pinnacle’s glass prism.
Erket had not noticed them at first but as the room lit up around her, two monumental sculptures appeared from the shadows, motionlessly stood guardians at the far end of the large stone altar. The bodies of muscular men with heads of ancient animal deities bore down upon her.
At the foot of the altar, stood a staff of silver and gold. Silver feathers spanned outwards from the centre where a golden talon clasped the crystallised stone at its core. The Scarlet Scarab was awakening. The day was young and the inclement coastal weather saw clouds that denied it its full power from the sun’s rays. It sat there patiently, pulsing, as the first chink of light engaged its presence and lit the embers inside. In full daylight, its dazzling display of red would light up like the very flames of an Anubian underworld.
Erket walked around the perimeter of the room. A curved channel, carved in the stone surrounding the sacrificial table. It reflected an invisible liquid.
‘I can see you are impressed,’ Louds called out across the echoing room.
Erket smiled back as she gazed on in wonder.
‘Come, bring the girl.’ He beckoned to the driver.
The chauffeur carried Gemima between his forearms and moved to place her at the altar.
‘Wait,’ Louds ordered. ‘Sabine, take the girl. I bestow you the honour of preparing her,’ he confirmed as he crept silently to gaze upon Gemima.
Erket took the girl within her own arms. But as she did so, without warning, Louds thrust a dagger into the spine of the chauffeur, killing him. Erket screamed in terror, waking Gemima. Louds meanwhile dragged the corpse on to the large onyx stone as if hauling a haunch of meat to the butchers’ block.
Slowly and precisely he positioned the man’s dying body star-shaped across the smooth black stone. Shackling him to restraints in each corner he then proceeded to cut into the man’s wrists so the blood quickly drained from his body and down through a hidden canal beneath him.
Gemima let out a series of screams before Sabine could subdue her with another scorpion’s kiss.
‘We could not risk any more witnesses.’ Louds laughed maniacally. ‘And I had to test my creation.’
At Erket’s foot, a small stream of blood began to flow around the carved channel from beneath the altar. Circulating around the large stone table it formed a scarlet perimeter. Louds took the naked flame of a torch and lit it. The blood combined with the ethereal water and lit up around the altar. The glowing eye of RA flickered back for all to see.
‘Prepare the girl, Sabine. She must be cleansed of impurities before nightfall comes.’
*****
The large wooden clog remained proudly placed above Tink’s shop. The blinds were down and the sign advised it was closed.
The four men huddled around a table to the rear of the shop and far from prying eyes. Pop Braggan took up two spaces as his canine sentry sat attentively at the front, on guard, should they be interrupted.
‘Is that it?’ Noone replied to Pop’s plan
‘Got a better one ’ave ya?’ Pop challenged him.
Noone shook his head but raised his eyebrow towards Gideon.
‘Are you absolutely sure, Pop? It’s not without risk to man or beast,’ Gideon double-checked with his giant friend.
Pop took a small shiny penny from his waistcoat pocket. It was highly polished and shone brightly under the light within Tink’s workshop.
‘Eds or tails Mr Noone?’ Pop asked Nathaniel as a slight challenge.
‘Heads,’ Noone replied.
Pop flicked the coin from his large thumb. As it spun through the air, the whoosh and swish of feathers darted past him in black and white. The Lady snatched the coin in mid-air and returned to Pop’s shoulder to return the prize and collect her rewa
rding strand of dried mutton.
‘You see, Mr Noone? The Lady will go for anything that shines, anything. And at that moment we seize our opportunity. And the only head that matters is your melted one and the orderlies must see you for it to work.’
‘Understood,’ Nathaniel acknowledged.
There was a tapping at the window. Luna growled defensively at the door as Tinker pushed passed and opened the blinds to a slight narrowing.
‘Good day, Mister Tinker,’ came the pleasant voices of two elderly ladies. ‘May you oblige us and help with securing the bunting?’
‘Bunting?’ Tinker replied while his cohorts looked on confused.
‘The Women’s Institute of Ambledown are proudly raising funds for the war effort you see. All proceeds go to our boys abroad,’ came the delicate whispers from outside.
The men concluded their meeting and decided to reconvene at five p.m. at Le Chat Noir. As they left, they noticed many women and many strings of paper bunting being strung across the road leading up the Steep.
‘I say,’ one of the women said, as Pop’s hulking frame squeezed through the doorway. ‘Who needs a ladder when we have you.’ She smiled pointing upwards.
The three remaining men laughed and made haste as Pop Braggan, the brutal, bare-knuckle giant, succumbed to the ladies charms and helped them secure the bunting above the shop front by tethering it to the iron flame baskets that lined the shops and houses throughout the town.
‘Seems more people are interested in decoration then looking for missing children,’ Noone said to Gideon.
‘It entirely depends on who the children are,’ Gideon replied.
He stared towards the very busy Lady Huntington-Smythe. If Henny had gone missing, he was sure her mother would have commanded a battalion to track her down.
‘Gideon,’ came the call from Nelly Parker striding down the hill with Elizabeth.
‘What news, ladies? How goes the search?’ he enquired.
‘Children and drunks, mainly. None of them,’ Elizabeth confirmed, pointing in a disgruntled manner at ladies of the WI.