Franklin's Emporium: The Pet Shop Mystery

by Gill Vickery

I smoothed the book flat on the table and began to read.

  Chapter Eight

  THE MAGICIANS’ BATTLE

  I was right; the book said that Arthur and Walter had both become involved in magic after touring the world as young men. Walter was interested in the magic of darkness and Arthur in the magic of light.

  After their father died, the brothers discovered that old Eli, knowing Arthur and Walter were at daggers drawn, had divided shares in Franklin’s Emporium between several family members as well as his sons. The brothers quarrelled. Arthur wanted to keep the store; Walter wanted to sell up and take the money.

  As the quarrel grew worse, Walter used dark magic to make the other shareholders vote with him.

  When Arthur realised what Walter had done, he challenged him to a magicians’ duel. That was what the fight in the boardroom really was. The author of the book had got the true story from a waiter who was serving the board members at the meeting.

  I could just imagine it. I closed my eyes and ran it through my mind’s eye like a film.

  Arthur pushes back his chair and stands. Every face turns in his direction but he only has eyes for his brother.

  ‘I can’t allow you to sell the Emporium and squander our inheritance.’

  Walter sneers. ‘You can’t stop me.’ He lifts his arm and indicates the other board members. ‘I have their support.’

  Arthur nods. ‘I know. Therefore, I challenge you to a duel and the prize is Franklin’s Emporium.’

  Without warning, Arthur throws a stream of blue light at his brother. Walter dodges and counter-attacks with a bolt of red light.

  The board members leap to their feet, knocking over chairs in their haste to get away. A waiter, who’s been standing quietly in the background, is pushed over. He scrambles under the table for protection from the sizzling light hurtling back and forth across the room, tearing curtains, zapping books from the shelves, knocking down clocks, ornaments, bottles of wine and crystal glasses.

  Arthur weaves a cage of light round himself. Walter retaliates with a cage of shadows. Both men levitate. They sway in the air for a moment then start to circle each other.

  Round and round they go, up and down, faster and faster until they are little more than a shining and a murky blur. Arthur throws out strands of light like ropes and tightens them, bit by bit, round Walter’s protective cage. Walter cries out. Arthur gives a last pull and the shadows fracture and break up. Walter falls to the floor by the table.

  Arthur hovers triumphantly over his brother and begins to entwine him in a tight cocoon of light. Walter scrabbles one hand free, stretches it out and grabs at the waiter who is cowering under the table.

  ‘Free me, brother, unless you want harm to come to this boy!’ Walter shouts.

  Arthur hesitates.

  Walter tightens his grip and the young man cries out, ‘Help me!’

  Arthur’s hand drops to his side and the skein of light around Walter fades, disappears.

  Walter stands up, the waiter still in his grip. ‘You’re a weak fool, Arthur. You had me in your power and yet you let me go to save this insignificant underling.’

  ‘Any of Franklin’s employees are more important than the business,’ Arthur says.

  Walter shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Kneel,’ he commands.

  Arthur kneels and his brother conjures up shadows. When Arthur is completely enveloped in darkness, Walter shoves the waiter away and holds both arms out, palms upwards. He begins to mould the shadows into a ball, squeezes it tighter and tighter until it’s the size of an egg.

  With a cry of triumph, he throws the ball into the air and it vanishes.

  Walter turns to the waiter. ‘That’s the last we’ll see of him.’

  The waiter flees.

  And that was where the story ended. I opened my eyes.

  One of the Franklin brothers had to be the old liftman – he knew everything about the store – but which one? I didn’t even have a photograph or illustration to help me decide.

  I took the book to the counter. The librarian was there, helping the library assistants deal with a queue of readers.

  ‘Any use?’ he asked, waving the bar scanner over the book.

  ‘Yes and no,’ I said. ‘There are gaps.’

  ‘Keep looking and if there’s anything else I can help with, let me know.’

  ‘OK,’ I said though I thought it was unlikely I’d get any more information from books in the library.

  The sun had come out and so had the tourists. I wandered down to the beach and sat on a rock, watching the sea and the swimmers thrashing around in the cold water.

  I thought about Arthur and Walter, the two magicians, and about the other magical people I’d met in Franklin’s: Bartholomew Magus, and Harriette, who’d sold me magic gloves last summer. She’d changed from a little girl to an old lady and then to a young woman, all in a few hours. Where was Harriette now? Come to that, if one of the Franklin brothers was the liftman, where was the other one?

  I threw a pebble into a rock pool and startled a small fish. It was time to go home for lunch and forget about the mystery of the liftman, for now.

  Chapter Nine

  THE INSTALLATION

  With Mum and Dad around – as well as the boys and all the shoppers – I wasn’t too worried about bumping into Bartholomew Magus. I even decided I’d go into Paws 4 Thought and double check on the animals before I went to the liftman and asked him to cast my spell.

  First I helped Dad set up the tables. Mum had done a great job with the catering, and we set her cakes out on tablecloths decorated in blue and white patterns echoing the designs all round the huge entrance hall. As she hadn’t been allowed to bake an installation cake she’d made a great big Franklin’s Emporium one instead, surrounded by lots of cupcakes with images from all over the store.

  I could hear the boys talking behind the red cloth covering the installation. I only caught snatches; they were still worried that the scaffolders hadn’t constructed the framework properly.

  The VIPs started to arrive at half past three. The art critics were first, and the press, then the local bigwigs and the mayor, jingling his bling. The boys were called out for a photo opportunity.

  Mum and Dad were transfixed and I took the chance to slip away to Paws 4 Thought while they were staring at the fuss being made of Ben and Sam. I checked cautiously. Bartholomew Magus wasn’t there. Still, I had a shock when I went inside. Apart from the fish, all the animals had gone. The cage doors were open and there were no shadowy creatures or frightened little eyes inside.

  I had a good look round and even reached into the cages in case any invisible animals were asleep, or worse. Still nothing.

  ‘Where are you?’ I said out loud.

  ‘Here!’ A bony hand gripped my arm and a pair of spiteful, pale blue eyes leaned towards me.

  It was Bartholomew Magus, and he was invisible.

  ‘Where are the animals?’ I said.

  I heard a sneering chuckle. ‘As you can see, my experiments are complete. I had no further use for those creatures. They can take their chances out in the world.’

  That was cruel. They weren’t used to looking out for themselves; they might not survive. I was so angry I kicked out hard without thinking. Crunch. My toe connected with his shin – or at least, it was the right height for his shin.

  ‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ he squealed and let go of me. The blue eyes vanished – he’d squished them closed in agony.

  There were a couple of soft thuds as he hopped away and then a crash as he collided with a pyramid of special offer tins of dog food.

  I ran out hoping the tins rolling all over the floor would stop him getting to his feet quickly and coming after me.

  The boys and the dignitaries were still posing for photos in front of the cloaked installation. Behind them I could see lots of little eyes heading for cover under the red cloth. The invisible animals were trying to hide.

  I had to get to the lift immediatel
y. Those animals were going to make a mess of my brothers’ artwork; their reputations would be ruined and it’d be all over the press and social media. Mum and Dad were too absorbed watching the boys being minor celebrities to notice me creeping fast round the edge of the lobby and heading for the lift.

  I pressed the call button and hopped up and down. ‘Come ON!’ Why was it taking so long?

  There was a ping, a rattle and the doors opened.

  ‘About time.’

  I dived into the lift and shot into a corner, puffing with relief. For once the liftman didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed on the open door. I glanced in the same direction and saw two baleful, pale blue eyes glaring right at me. They started to advance, swivelled towards the liftman, stopped, narrowed into angry slits and withdrew.

  The doors closed. The liftman tilted his head enquiringly to one side.

  ‘That was Bartholomew Magus. I didn’t know he was going to be invisible,’ I said. ‘I just came to ask if you’d make his cat and all the pets he’s made invisible go back to normal.’

  ‘All of them. Hmm. That’s strong magic indeed. Magus is almost as powerful a wizard as I am,’ the liftman said.

  It was the first time I’d heard him admit he was a magician.

  ‘But you can do it?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said softly. ‘Make your wish.’

  I hoped it was going to work.

  ‘I wish the creatures, beasts and birds,

  Changed back to how they were before.

  Please speak now your magic words

  And the status quo restore.’

  The lift went up like a rocket. My legs buckled and I found myself kneeling on the floor. The lift stopped as abruptly as it had started. I got up, knees aching.

  The lift opened onto the terrace restaurant right at the top of the Emporium. I was going to have to run down seven flights of stairs.

  The liftman quirked an eyebrow at me. ‘Strong magic takes hard work.’

  I flew down the steps and burst out into the lobby.

  The mayor was pulling a cord round the installation and cameras were flashing. The red cloths slithered down and lay in a crimson puddle on the floor.

  The crowd gasped, and so did I.

  Chapter Ten

  DISASTER!

  The installation was a double helix of scaffolding, twisting its way upwards. Lasers played, neon flashed and glinting mirrors spun slowly, revealing the invisible animals and birds in the turning glass.

  On the good side, everyone but me and the boys thought the reflections of the invisible creatures were part of the installation. People began clapping.

  ‘How did they do that?’ the mayor said.

  ‘No idea,’ a minion answered. ‘Some techno thing I guess.’

  Hah! Techno thing – it was magic, Bartholomew Magus’s magic. Why hadn’t the liftman’s more powerful magic cancelled it out?

  The lights on the wall, showing which floor the lift had got to, were winking their way downwards.

  ‘Come on!’ I muttered, fists clenched. The last light glowed red and the doors opened. The gasps of astonishment increased.

  I turned back to the installation. Small furry animals were running up and down it and birds randomly perched everywhere.

  ‘They’re not a techno thing,’ the mayor said.

  The minion was speechless.

  A woman suddenly let out a piercing scream and pointed towards me.

  What had I done?

  All eyes, including my family’s, swung round to me. More screams and a lot of laughter, echoed round the lobby. My parents were elbowing their way towards me, furious expressions on their faces. My brothers were clutching each other, laughing.

  I was mystified. I held out my hands, palms up, and shrugged. A shove in my back sent me staggering into the installation. I clung to the scaffolding, spun helplessly round and found myself facing Bartholomew Magus. And not just his eyes. The liftman’s magic had worked on him as well as the creatures and he was visible all right, too visible. Unlike the birds and animals, which were covered with fur or feathers, he only had skin. He’d had to take his clothes off to be completely invisible.

  He snatched up a piece of the red cloth, wrapped it round himself and fled with a bunch of burly security guards in pursuit.

  Mum and Dad reached me. ‘Are you all right?’ Mum asked.

  I nodded and let go of the scaffolding. It wobbled. It creaked. It began, gradually, to fold in on itself.

  ‘Run!’ Dad shouted and grabbed my arm. Mum seized the other one and they propelled me away as the whole installation imploded. There were more screams and shouts, a volley of flashing camera lights and the thrumming of running feet.

  Crash!

  The installation lay in a heap in the middle of the lobby, debris puffing up and falling back. It creaked and moaned for a bit like a dying engine and then fell silent.

  Quite a few people had fallen over and were being helped to their feet. The animals had all run off and the birds were either flying round in circles or perching high in the ceiling.

  ‘Is anyone hurt?’ the mayor asked. Miraculously, nobody was. I checked out the lift. The doors were closing on the liftman, one hand raised in a protective gesture. He’d made some kind of shielding magic though how and why I had no idea.

  Ben and Sam were standing by the ruins of their installation. I was amazed that they were cheerful. The famous critic they were talking to was smiling and making notes on a tablet. All three of them were acting animated and excited. Artists. I was never going to understand them.

  The journalists and cameramen were having a great time too, dictating into their phones, tapping at tablets and taking pictures.

  I helped Mum and Dad salvage what we could of the catering. The food was mostly squished or full of bits from the falling installation. The tables were fine and we soon had them stashed away in the unit. Mum was regretting having crockery and glasses instead of paper plates and plastic cups. The shards and slivers took a lot of sweeping away. Cleaners appeared from out of the blue, a bit like the security men. Mum said Franklin’s mysterious lawyers included cleaning and security in the package when she’d made the exhibition arrangements for the boys.

  ‘Good job,’ Dad said. ‘I bet they didn’t expect an exploding art exhibition. How’s the insurance cover?’

  I zoned out at that point. Mum was very sensible and I wasn’t interested in insurance.

  Franklin’s was closed for the rest of the day while the clearing up went on. Several of the other unit owners moaned about it, though most understood.

  We were exhausted by the time we were able to leave. Ben and Sam and a group of the VIPs, including the famous critic, had gone off for dinner.

  ‘I’m not cooking tonight,’ Mum said firmly.

  ‘Nor me,’ Dad said. ‘We’ll follow the boys’ example and eat out.’

  We went to The Sole Provider, the chippy down by the pier, and sat on benches, watching the tide play with the sea as we scoffed our fish and chips.

  When we’d finished, we walked home through the dusk, arm in arm. As soon as we opened the front door Mum’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Cesare – he hasn’t eaten all day.’

  ‘I think he’ll survive,’ Dad said.

  ‘You can be so heartless, Peter,’ Mum said.

  ‘I know but you still love me.’

  This was a routine I’d heard before. There would be kisses next.

  ‘I’ll feed him,’ I said quickly and hurried to the kitchen. The cat flap had been left unlocked since Cesare and the invisicat shot through it the night before when I’d left out dry food and water. The cats had to have come back by now.

  They had. They were curled up together on a cushioned chair. Cesare’s pink tongue rasped rhythmically up and down the invisicat’s grey fur and it paddled its paws contentedly against the cushion.

  The liftman’s magic had worked long-distance. The invisicat wasn’t invisible any more.

  ‘M
um, Dad,’ I yelled, ‘come and see this!’

  ‘What’s up?’

  I dragged them over to the chair.

  Mum’s eyes widened and the soppy expression came over her face. ‘It looks just like Cesare,’ she said, stroking the invisicat.

  ‘It might be his mother,’ I said.

  ‘We’re not keeping it.’ Dad frowned. ‘I’ll phone Cats’ Protection.’

  Mum picked up the invisicat who butted her gently under the chin.

  ‘We’ll see.’

  I knew who was going to win this one.

  Chapter Eleven

  BROTHERS

  The end of the holiday was chaotic. Ben and Sam had got glowing reviews of their installation with sympathetic accounts of the way it had collapsed. The reviews were so good that an agent took them on. She got a London gallery owner interested in exhibiting their work and found them studio space in an artists’ cooperative. Ben and Sam were in a frenzy of packing and planning.

  Mum and Dad spent most of their time in their units at Franklin’s. They did a roaring last minute holiday trade with the tourists. I was happy to stay at home. Officially the boys were keeping an eye on me; unofficially, when I wasn’t reading, I wandered round Golden Bay, exploring caves, watching the fishing boats in the harbour or parking myself at the library. As long as I reported back regularly and let them know what I was doing, they were OK with it. And so was I.

  The cats and I were the only calm ones in the house. Cesare was a reformed character. The invisicat was a soothing influence and the two of them adored each other. Dad wanted to call her Lucrezia, after Cesare Borgia’s sister who went around poisoning people and having them assassinated. Mum said that wasn’t the cat’s nature at all and called her Angel. I thought Lucrezia was better but Mum got her way. The name stuck, and so did the cat.

  The one thing I didn’t do was go back to Franklin’s Emporium. I wasn’t scared. It was that I always seemed to end up in trouble there and I’d had enough of it. I held out until the last Friday morning of the holidays. It was wet and miserable. I didn’t fancy the beach or the harbour so when Mum asked me to come and help her at Fran’s Fancies I agreed. The bad weather made business slack and we had time to chat.