The Lunatic's Curse

by F. E. Higgins

  ‘You know?’ Rex was aghast. ‘How?’

  She hesitated. ‘I was close enough to see the writing through the paper.’

  Rex took her hesitation as embarrassment that she had read private correspondence. ‘So, what did it say?’

  ‘Well, if I recall correctly,’ said Hildred, ‘Acantha wrote, “My dearest Tibor, Urgent news. I suspect a certain person is a little too close for comfort. I have suggested that he and I come to the asylum for a meal. I shall bring provisions and we can resolve this matter for once and for all. I do believe a resolution needs to be found now if we are to continue. With fondest wishes, Acantha”.’

  Rex looked at Hildred in astonishment. ‘You read all that through the paper? Is there no end to your talents?’

  ‘Apparently not,’ replied Hildred with a chuckle.

  Rex was not so light-hearted. ‘This cannot be good,’ he said. ‘It sounds like some sort of secret message. Who is the “certain person” and what is this matter they need to resolve?’

  ‘I agree that it is a little mysterious,’ said Hildred. ‘But don’t you think we should concentrate on your father’s secrets now that we have a little time in hand?’

  Rex knew Hildred was right, but he was worried. Acantha and Tibor seemed a little too friendly for his liking.

  36

  A Pipe and a Pest

  In the kitchen Mrs Runcible was as cheerful as ever, cooking fish again, and Gerulphus was reading the Hebdomadal.

  ‘Early today,’ she said as burnt fish spattered all around her. ‘And I thought Dr Velhildegildus to be a hard taskmaster!’

  ‘He says he has things to do.’ Gerulphus spoke from behind the paper. ‘Freakley is taking him to town this afternoon.’

  ‘And he has company tonight, but my services are not required,’ said Mrs Runcible dolefully. ‘Dr Velhildegildus doesn’t wish me to cook for his friends.’

  Gerulphus shook out the Hebdomadal noisily. ‘Cecil Notwithstanding is still writing about those “missing” beggars,’ he said as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I can hardly imagine why. Good riddance, I say. That committee should be commended for doing such a fine job.’ He dropped the paper on the table as he left the kitchen and Hildred picked it up.

  ‘Rex, come and see me when you’re finished,’ said Hildred pointedly, as she too left. ‘I’ve got something to show you’'

  Mrs Runcible smiled after her. ‘Lovely girl, that Hildred,’ she said. ‘But I can’t make head nor tail of her leaves!’

  Intrigued by Hildred’s cryptic message, Rex rushed the remainder of his food. Burping gently as he crossed the entrance hall, he caught sight of Tibor out of the window. He was with Walter Freakley. He watched through the dusty glass until he saw the boat heading out into the misty lake and then hurried on to join Hildred in her room. She was waiting impatiently at the door for him. As soon as he came in she locked it and turned her face to Rex in that way peculiar to her.

  ‘Look,’ she said, holding up the Hebdomadal. ‘I saw it when Gerulphus turned the page’'

  Rex could see some sort of promotional panel, a few lines of dark print within a black ink drawing of a serpent. Slowly he read the text aloud:

  ‘Commodifications and compunctions?’ said Rex. ‘Now where have I heard that before?’ He recalled the weatherworn sign over Mr Sarpalius’s shop and the missing letters. ‘Body commodifications,’ he repeated excitedly.

  ‘Your Mr Sarpalius is a tattoo artist,’ said Hildred triumphantly. ‘Do you have a tattoo?’

  ‘No,’ said Rex. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then your father must have one,’ she said with indisputable logic. ‘I think it’s time we paid Mr Sarpalius a visit.’

  ‘But I’m so tired,’ moaned Rex, falling back on the bed.

  Hildred spoke sharply. ‘I thought you wanted to find out what really happened to your father. Now all you’re interested in is building that stupid machine.’

  Rex, taken aback at this unanticipated attack on his beloved Indagator, protested quickly, ‘It’s not stupid! It will be worth a fortune.’

  ‘Not to you, it won’t,’ said Hildred matter-of-factly, ‘even though you’re putting in all the work. Dr Velhildegildus doesn’t know what he is doing – I can see that – but you, you’re different. If I didn’t know otherwise I would think that you had drawn up the plans yourself. Dr Velhildegildus is set to make a mint. How much of it will come our way?’

  Rex jumped up. ‘I didn’t realize you were doing it for the money,’ he said indignantly. ‘That’s not what it’s about.’

  ‘Then what is it about? You should hear yourself down there. You think you’re in charge but you’re not. “Yes, Dr Velhildegildus.” “No, Dr Velhildegildus.” “Anything you say, Dr Velhildegildus.” You’ve turned into Tibor’s lapdog.’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ said Rex hotly, but in truth he was stung by her mimicry and the look of disdain on her face and by the creeping suspicion that everything she said was true. ‘It’s the way he talks. It’s sort of . . . irresistible. Haven’t you noticed?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ said Hildred bluntly. ‘I think you’re hiding something, and if you want me to stay to help you in this awful, awful place then you have to tell me what’s going on. Do you think it was easy for me to tell you that my father was put in here? And, worse, that he really was insane? Your father wasn’t.’ Hildred narrowed her eyes. ‘Or so you say.’

  ‘OK,’ said Rex at last, with a gesture of resignation. ‘I’ll tell you, but I don’t see how it will make any difference. You’re right, I already know of the plan. It’s my father’s and mine.’

  ‘I knew it,’ said Hildred with satisfaction. ‘Indagator Gurgitis! You already had the name, didn’t you? But why on earth did you give the plan to Dr Velhildegildus?’

  ‘That’s just it. I didn’t. I don’t know how he got hold of it,’ replied Rex, and what a relief it was to finally tell the whole truth.

  ‘Then ask him!’

  Rex covered his face with his hands and let out a long sigh. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Hildred pulled his hands away from his mouth. ‘You’re mumbling,’ she said and then stopped abruptly. ‘Oh Lord, you’re scared,’ she whispered. ‘You’re scared to ask.’

  Rex’s dark-ringed eyes were like stains on his pale face. ‘Yes, I am, because I’m afraid that he did something terrible to get it – maybe he stole it. And I don’t know what he would do if he knew that I knew. We’ve made a deal. If I help with Indagator then he won’t send me back to Acantha. I don’t want to do anything to upset him, not yet.’

  ‘All right,’ said Hildred slowly. ‘I think I understand. But that doesn’t stop us seeing Sarpalius. Let’s go now. We can take the boat.’

  ‘Freakley’s taken the boat,’ said Rex, momentarily relieved to think that they couldn’t go. But Hildred’s smile told him the lack of boat was no obstacle to her plans.

  ‘You forget. There’s the other boat, from when they brought over the equipment. It’s still down at the landing place. We’ll be there and back before anyone misses us.’

  The yellow mist was cool against their anxious faces as Rex and Hildred clambered into the spare boat. Rex pushed off with one oar and Hildred took the other. Quickly they settled into a smooth rowing rhythm and they made fast progress across the dark lake.

  ‘Keep the asylum in front of you,’ said Hildred, ‘and then we should be on course for the shore.’

  Rex looked at Hildred beside him. She seemed lost in thought and oblivious to all about her. It was odd the way she seemed to dip in and out of the world. Sometimes talking to her was like talking to a tree trunk. But then, when she looked at him with those penetrating eyes, he felt as if no one else was getting any attention.

  ‘Can you hear that?’ asked Hildred suddenly. ‘A sort of whistling.’

  Rex shook his head. Hildred laid down her oar and dropped her arm over the side to let her hand dangle in the water. ‘I can feel it,’ she said, turnin
g to Rex, her eyes shining.

  ‘Are you mad?’ he laughed. ‘You can’t feel whistling.’

  ‘I can,’ she said simply, then picked up her oar and began to row again.

  The town clock was striking the half-hour when they caught sight of the wooden jetty. They had veered across slightly and it was a little way up to the left.

  ‘Freakley’s there,’ said Hildred. And indeed he was, perched on the jetty and whistling.

  ‘Just row down the shore a little more,’ said Rex. ‘We’ll drag up the boat; he won’t see us.’

  Once again Rex walked the gloomy streets, distinctly unwelcoming in the low winter’s light, this time with Hildred at his side, making their way deeper into the shabby, less salubrious areas of Opum Oppidulum. There was talk that this end of town was going the way of Urbs Umida. They were bothered once or twice by beggars but unusually they seemed loath to persevere once rebuffed.

  Rex slowed as they turned into Cuttlesack Lane and reached Mr Sarpalius’s shop. Everything was as it had been that night, weeks ago now. The creaking sign, the missing letters, the cobwebbed window. Rex raised his fist but it remained suspended.

  ‘Aren’t you going to knock?’ asked Hildred.

  ‘I can’t,’ muttered Rex shakily. His mind was playing havoc with his nerves.

  So Hildred knocked confidently on the door. The panel slid across and a pair of eyes looked out.

  ‘We’re here to see Mr Sarpalius,’ said Hildred.

  ‘Is he expecting you?’

  ‘Tell him it’s about Ambrose Grammaticus.’

  It seemed an age before the door opened and they were ushered in. Hildred looked around with interest, Rex with fear. Inhaling again the odours of the shop was almost too much for him to bear. Hildred reached for his shaking hand.

  ‘He’s last curtain down on the left,’ said the man behind the counter. ‘He’ll see you but only for a minute. He’s busy in the afternoons.’

  In silence the pair passed down the corridor, listening to intermittent muffled groans of pain on either side of them. The smell was different this time, thought Rex, tinged with a cloying sweetness. It made him feel a little light-headed.

  Hildred drew back the last velvet drape to see Anton Sarpalius reclining on a couch so large that it only just fitted in the small space. He was dressed in dark satin and surrounded by plump cushions. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were large, bright spots burned on his cheeks, but he looked very much at ease.

  ‘You again,’ he said, not unkindly, when he saw Rex hovering behind Hildred. In his right hand he held a long pipe from which he inhaled deeply before resting it in the ebony holder beside him. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We want to know about Ambrose Grammaticus,’ said Hildred, unperturbed by the man’s lizard-like face. Rex was struck mute beside her. ‘Did you give him a tattoo while Rex was asleep?’

  Anton yawned lazily and showed his split tongue. ‘Asleep? Out like a spit-snuffed candle you were,’ he said.

  ‘Did my father tell you anything?’ asked Rex, finally finding his voice.

  ‘About what?’ It seemed as if Anton had only a tenuous grip on reality.

  ‘A maze, a boy with wings, a diamond.’

  ‘Very particular about his letters, your father. He paid me with a diamond,’ said Anton slowly, and took up the pipe again. The blue aromatic smoke curled up his nose and he half shut his eyes. ‘Have you one too?’

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Hildred, dragging Rex away. ‘He can’t tell you anything and whatever he does tell you, you can’t believe it.’

  ‘Leaving so soon?’ called Anton after them. ‘What about your skull?’

  Outside on the street Rex and Hildred took deep breaths of the cold air and walked briskly to shake off the heavy atmosphere of the room. The light was fading fast and they didn’t want to cross the lake in the dark. Rex was annoyed with Hildred but even more so with himself, for being so useless, so feeble. ‘Why did you drag me away?’ he asked irritably.

  ‘He’s been smoking opium,’ said Hildred. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s saying.’

  ‘But he said something about my skull. Could that mean something?’

  ‘Did he? I didn’t hear. Maybe he meant where you hurt your head.’

  Involuntarily Rex touched the wound. ‘I don’t think so,’ he began, but was immediately distracted by a cart that had pulled up alongside them. It kept pace with their walking and the driver looked down at them, but then he made a clicking sound with his tongue. ‘Ho, Blackbird!’ he called, and with a crack of the whip he took off.

  ‘Blackbird?’ muttered Rex. Then it dawned on him. ‘That’s the man who delivers the meat to Acantha. He’s the butcher.’

  Hildred stared after him. ‘Butcher? It says “Pest Controller” on his cart. The man is a rat catcher.’

  ‘Ugh,’ laughed Rex. ‘Maybe that’s what’s so special about Acantha’s meat.’

  ‘Perhaps he does two jobs,’ said Hildred, but she was doubtful. It was not an ideal marriage: rats and meat.

  When they reached their boat they saw that Freakley was still waiting at the jetty.

  ‘You know, we don’t have to go back,’ said Hildred carefully, almost as if she was testing him out. ‘We could go somewhere else. Forget the whole business.’

  ‘You can,’ said Rex. ‘You said it yourself. There’s nothing for you at the asylum. I understand if you want to leave, to find your father, but I have to return, to finish Indagator.’

  ‘Surely Tibor could fit the Re-breather, couldn’t he? We’re getting nowhere with the clues.’

  ‘I want to do it,’ insisted Rex. ‘For my father.’

  Hildred smiled. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘And I want to help. You’re right, I don’t have to, but I will,’ she said decisively. ‘I want to finish what we started. Everything. But you can’t keep any more secrets from me.’

  37

  Thoughts of the Monstrous Creature

  Primitive as it was, the monstrous creature was not wholly insensitive to its environment. It could see the light of the growing moon, as it had many times down the centuries, and it knew instinctively what it meant. It anticipated the change in the water with a sort of pleasure.

  This time something was different. The water was moving faster, the current was stronger, it had to swim harder against it. It was an exhilarating feeling. The creature was reminded of the time many, many years ago when the water had swollen so high that it had filled the chamber under the rocky island. The same chamber where that strange upright animal fed it. Not fish, but something else, a little like those animals it had found recently flailing on the surface of the lake. They were juicy, if lean, and it had swum up and down many times since, looking for more, but it seemed they were all gone. The others would do for now.

  In the moonlight the creature could see up through the water and make out the shape again of that strange fish above. It watched the broad flippers going back and forth, back and forth, and it waited for the call. But none came. Neither had it answered earlier. The creature was confused, anxious, and began to call again. But still there was no reply.

  38

  On the Trail of the Elusive Mr Faye

  ‘Take care, Acantha,’ warned Tibor as he took her stiff-fingered hand and helped her out of the boat. ‘You know what happens to those who fall into Lake Beluarum!’

  ‘Indeed I do, Tibor,’ she tittered. She was holding a string-tied wax-papered package under one arm and the boat rocked violently as she clambered awkwardly on to the rock. Walter gave her a helpful shove from behind, for which she shot him a dirty look.

  Rex and Hildred, crouching down in their own boat, were only a short distance away. They had just tied up when they heard Walter Freakley’s unmistakable whistling behind them. Instinctively they had climbed back into the boat and hidden under the seat.

  ‘They won’t see us in the mist,’ Rex had whispered as Walter’s boat hit the pier with more force than usual. It was sitting v
ery low in the water on account of Acantha’s increasing bulk and the fact that it carried not three but four people: Tibor, Acantha, Walter and a bearded man of modest proportions. He stepped on to the pier, hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and looked around.

  ‘Well, Dr Velhildegildus,’ he said with satisfaction, ‘I’ve been looking forward to this visit.’

  ‘I’ll lead the way,’ said Tibor.

  Hildred, tidily squeezed into her confined space, watched as Tibor and his two guests went on ahead. Walter secured the boat before following. As soon as they were out of sight Rex crawled out and stretched his arms, complaining of cramp. Hildred eased herself out with little difficulty and had no such complaints, but she did roll her shoulders with an alarming cracking sound. They waited, deeming it important to give the forward party time enough to reach the asylum.

  ‘So that’s Acantha,’ said Hildred. ‘You described her well. But who’s the other fellow?’

  Rex smiled triumphantly. ‘It’s Andrew Faye,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you hear Tibor?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He said, “I’ll lead, Mr Faye.” What a stroke of luck. It must be another meeting of the Society of Andrew Faye and this time he’s turned up in person.’

  ‘That’s why Mrs Runcible won’t be cooking,’ said Hildred. ‘Come on, let’s go. I want to have a look at this Mr Faye.’

  They made for the steps but Rex stopped suddenly and stared hard at the ground.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Hildred.

  Rex knelt and wiped his hand across the rock. Sticky strings of a dark red liquid hung between his fingers. ‘It’s blood,’ he said.

  ‘Acantha’s package,’ said Hildred. ‘The meat for tonight. Here, someone’s dropped a handkerchief.’ She picked up a folded piece of material from the ground. ‘You can wipe your hand.’

  But Rex wasn’t listening. He was transfixed by the substance on his fingers. Before he realized what he was doing, he brought them to his mouth and began to lick them.