by T. H. Hunter
“Stand back,” I said to Barry, pointing my wand at the lock.
Barry jumped down from the stone ring on which he had been perched. With a loud bang and a flash, I burst open the lock. The magic spell binding it to the stone ring had been broken at last. Barry immediately leapt onto the stone ring again.
“Help me with this, will you?” he said, trying to push the heavy lock away with his body.
With another flick of the wrist, I easily sent the lock across the room, making it hit the wall as softly as I possibly could, though the metal still clanged horribly against the concrete walls.
Meanwhile, Barry was peering down the dark shaft that had been hidden below the lock. Before I could take a look myself, however, I saw by the shock on Barry’s face that something was terribly wrong.
“Amanda, it’s gone,” he said. “The hexanomitron isn’t here.”
Chapter 9
I came closer to take a better look. Barry was right. Inside the stone ring, a large hexagonal hole gaped up at me, the end of which was too far below to see.
“That’s impossible,” Barry murmured. “This can’t be…”
“Perhaps it destabilised completely, destroying itself?” I asked.
“We wouldn’t be standing here if it had,” said Barry.
“Perhaps Mr. Brown removed it? Or Williams?” I said.
But Barry shook his head.
“The hexanomitron is at least ten feet long. It is also extremely heavy. Hebs could only remove it with the help of specialised machinery.”
He sniffed around the edges of the stone.
“The person who removed it also left definite traces of his work. You can see the marks here and here,” he said, indicating the spots with his right paw. “Quite clear. To the trained eye, at least.”
“Yeah, Barry, no need to rub it in,” I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “But I still don’t understand. I thought you said that it couldn’t have been removed.”
“I said,” Barry corrected me, “that no heb could have removed this in time.”
“So you’re saying that the other witch or warlock on the island – whoever it is – removed the hexanomitron by magic?” I asked.
“Precisely,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be too surprised if Mr. Brown over there fell victim to a sleeping charm. It is rather convenient, don’t you think? Him being asleep while someone steals the hexanomitron from right under his nose…”
“But who might have stolen it?” I asked. “Couldn’t it be Magical Law Enforcement confiscating the hexanomitron?”
“Well,” said Barry, “we can’t rule that out, though as far as I know they go about it very differently. Usually pretend there’s a safety hazard or something to get the hebs out of the way for the duration. These objects are very volatile, you must understand. A removal by anything less than a team of skilled warlocks or witches is dangerous, downright foolhardy, in fact. No, there is only one reasonable conclusion.”
“A sorcerer,” I breathed.
Barry nodded solemnly.
“I am afraid so,” he said.
Silence fell as the truth of the situation settled in. This changed everything. What I had initially taken for a heb affair had become a magical one. If a sorcerer was at large on the island, everything was on the table. And Anita Brown’s death might not have been as natural as it had appeared to the heb police.
“But what was Mr. Brown doing with the hexanomitron in the first place?” I asked. “And how on earth did the thief get hold of it without being in this room?”
“I don’t know,” said Barry. “It’s puzzling. I…”
But before Barry could continue any further, the lights above started to flicker, as if power was being drawn away.
“Do you hear that?” I said, cocking my ears.
“What?”
“The generators,” I said slowly. “Are they a bit quieter than they were before?”
We listened intently.
“I think you’re right, Amanda,” he said, the fear clearly audible in his voice.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said immediately. “We don’t want to be caught down here. Come on.”
We hastily moved over to the doorway. Mr. Brown remained as tightly asleep as he had been before we had entered. Yet the lights were fading and flickering here, too. The old control panels were also losing power by the looks of it.
“Maybe we can do something to return power…” I began, but Barry once more painfully clawed at my ankle.
“What is it now, Barry?”
“Over there,” he hissed. “I saw someone. Walking towards the trap door.”
The methodical clunking of the generator was the only sound to be heard for a moment.
“Come on,” I said, more bravely than I actually felt.
As we edged past Mr. Brown again, I hoped against hope that Barry had been mistaken. Yet something told me that his cat’s eyes – old or not – were a lot better than mine and therefore unlikely to have played a trick on him. Stepping through the various rooms we had entered through, I wished that I hadn’t quarrelled with Val earlier. Her help, both physical and psychological, would have been indispensable.
Finally, we reached the room with the trap door above us.
“Strange,” Barry said, peering up, “I could have sworn that…”
But at that moment, the trap door – which we had left open – swung forward and landed with an ear-piercing crash on the opening.
Barry and I looked at each other, terrified.
“WHO’S THERE?”
It was Mr. Brown.
“That must have woken him up,” I said, pushing as hard as I could against the trap door. “We’ve got to get this thing open.”
“Use your wand!” Barry screeched. “Quickly.”
Without hesitation, I pointed it upward and cried:
“Effringo!”
The trap door burst open immediately. With Mr. Brown behind us, there was only one way forward. I hoisted Barry out through the trap door first and ascended the metal rungs as quickly as I could afterwards. I could hear the wheels from Mr. Brown’s wheelchair scratching the concrete floor below, but he was too late. Barry and I quickly scampered around the two large crates and raced along the corridor until we reached the door. We were back in the entrance area of the lighthouse. With one last look up its circular staircase, I followed Barry out into the open.
***
I’d never thought I’d be glad to be out in the pouring rain again. But now, it not only visibly obscured our escape but also hid our tracks in the mud as well. Nevertheless, I thought it best to take an indirect route to the hotel, passing behind Williams’s workshop in the process. That way, if anyone discovered us or happened to look out of one of the many windows of the hotel, it wouldn’t be immediately evident that we had been to the lighthouse.
“That was close,” said Barry, still shaking slightly from exhaustion.
“Yeah,” I agreed, panting. “Could you see who it was?”
Barry shook his head.
“No,” he said. “But whoever it was closed that trap door on us. There’s no doubt about it.”
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get inside. I’m freezing. And we’ve got to tell Val everything.”
We walked back towards the hotel lobby door as casually as we could. Barry was just about to elaborate on which bones were aching the most when I coughed loudly to shut him up. We had company.
“Hello, Miss Sheridan,” said Dr. Linton, who – smoking a cigarette – looked much more relaxed than usual. “Fancy seeing you out here. They told us you were ill and in bed.”
“Not quite in bed,” I said. “But it’s true, I do feel a little… ill.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said, though he didn’t look like it at all. “Want me to have a look?”
“Please, I don’t want to bother you, Doctor,” I said. “I’m sure a good night’s rest will do the trick.”
“Yes, t
hat’s a good idea,” he said. “Well, I’d better get back to my room. Got to figure out this whole financial business. Mrs. Highgarden’s making a mess of things, as usual.”
And with that, he opened the door and led the way into the hotel. Barry and I followed him in, but instead of going straight ahead, we ascended the stairs that led to our room at the end of the corridor.
“It’s us, Val,” I said as I knocked on the door.
The door opened a crack.
“Oh, thank the Heavens,” said Val as she opened it. “I thought it was Mrs. Haughton again.”
Barry scampered inside.
“Mrs. Haughton?” I asked.
“Yes,” Val said, as she closed the door behind me. “She was bustling around, making the beds.”
She wheeled around to face us.
“What have you two been up to?” she said, shaking her head. “You look as if you’d had a swim to the mainland. Here, I’ll get you some towels.”
“Thanks, Val,” I said, grinning.
She handed me one and began drying Barry’s fur. Judging from his minor protestations, I could tell that he was rather enjoying himself.
“Mrs. Haughton’s cracking under the pressure, I think,” said Val. “Unsurprising really, since she has to take care of everything now. That Mr. Brown isn’t doing anything at all. Nobody even knows where he is most of the time.”
“We do,” I said.
And then, Barry and I told her all about the lighthouse cellar and our narrow escape.
“So, you think somebody followed you down there?” Val asked, her hand over her mouth.
“I’m certain of it,” I said.
“And you are positive it’s a sorcerer?” asked Val.
“No heb could have removed the hexanomitron that quickly,” I said.
Barry, who had poked his feline head from beneath the towel, nodded.
“It would have been impossible,” he said. “Ouch, careful, Valerie! My whiskers are very delicate these days, you know.”
Val quickly shifted the towel back up to the top of his head again.
“And if it was a sorcerer,” I continued, “Barry’s cover is also blown. They’ll know he’s not a real cat.”
“But did you see who it was?” she asked.
“No,” Barry said. “But whoever it was slammed the hatch on us. They wanted us to be caught by Mr. Brown.”
“What a horrible thing to do!” Val said indignantly. “So there’s no trace of the hexa… thingy?”
“Nope,” I said. “Can’t be that hard to find on a small island like this, can it?”
“Why not?” asked Val.
“Because it’s ten feet long,” said Barry irritably. “As for finding it, it might be more difficult than you think, Amanda.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The sorcerer might have turned it invisible,” he said. “Or transported it off the island by now.”
The prospect of finding the hexanomitron seemed to be much more complicated than I had anticipated. But I was sure that whoever had stolen it was also responsible for Anita Brown’s death. I couldn’t be sure, of course, but something told me that there was a link that we hadn’t uncovered yet.
“But you said you were in the room with that lock,” Val said. “How could it have been stolen?”
“There must have been another way to access the hexanomitron from beneath,” Barry said. “An underground passage, or a cave with another entrance – below the lighthouse.”
Though we had gleaned from our adventure that a sorcerer was most likely behind the theft of the hexanomitron, the whole escapade had a bitter aftertaste. Not only had we been thwarted, but there were now a lot more questions to be answered than before. In any case, it was absolutely vital that we found the hexanomitron in time. I didn’t even want to contemplate what a sorcerer might do with it.
“So what happened here, then?” I asked, trying to focus back on the present.
“Oh Amy, I’m sorry about… well, you were right,” Val said apologetically. “I decided to attend the meeting after all. I said you were in bed and that I’d be happy to step in for you in the meantime. Most of them were all for it, so we went ahead with the meeting.”
“I hope I don’t have to attend next,” said Barry, yawning. “I’d rather go back to the lighthouse again.”
“Hold on,” I said excitedly. “If you were there, Val… Was there anyone missing from the meeting?”
“We met that insolent young man, Patrick Urquhart, outside,” said Barry, who had still not forgiven Patrick for commenting on his weight. “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he turned out to be our villain, you know. Same smarmy type as that Rick Lavalle fellow last time. Can’t trust them, you know.”
Normally, I would have been inclined to argue with Barry. After the events that had occurred shortly before Christmas, however, perhaps there was a point to Barry’s suspicion. Were his instincts informed by more than mere jealousy for young men?
“Perhaps,” I said slowly, “Patrick simply pretended to be late for the meeting. He could have easily turned back and followed us to the lighthouse after a minute or two. Then joined the meeting later.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, Amy,” said Val. “We didn’t get very far at all. The meeting was over almost instantly, in fact. Patrick Urquhart was missing for the first few minutes, that’s true. But that was right at the beginning. After he came in, it continued for a few more minutes, and then it dispersed.”
“So it could have been him,” said Barry triumphantly. “He could have followed us after the meeting ended.”
“But if the meeting ended early,” I said. “It could have been any one of them, Barry. If only we knew where they all went afterwards…”
“I’m sorry, Amy,” Val said. “But I didn’t know that it would be important. Otherwise, I would have kept on eye on who left the hotel.”
“Don’t worry about it, Val. It’s not your fault. So what happened exactly during the meeting?” I asked. “I thought Mrs. Highgarden was determined to make it a full session.”
“Well,” Val began. “Mrs. Highgarden did start it off that way. She was keen to discuss the financial situation of the committee and how to raise some more funds. But the conversation kept being sidetracked by other stuff. People were arguing about all sorts of things. Dr. Linton kept attacking everything Mrs. Highgarden had to say. The twins were at each other’s throats. And Patrick tried to calm the whole thing down, but without success. Finally, the only thing anybody could really talk about was getting off the island as quickly as possible. That’s what everybody really wanted, except for Mrs. Highgarden of course. I think she was just about to get a grip on the situation when the businessman – Mr. Bolton I think his name is – well, he said that it was such a lucky thing that we would be able to get back to the mainland again. And that we shouldn’t take such things entirely for granted.”
“What an odd thing to say,” I said.
“Yes,” said Val, nodding her head. “That’s what we all thought. And when Patrick asked him what he exactly meant by that, Mr. Bolton said that if the police had come to the conclusion that Anita Brown’s death hadn’t been an accident at all but really murder, that we all would have to stay there for a very long time. And that it would get pretty uncomfortable for some people if it were the case. Then, Mrs. Highgarden suddenly got very angry and demanded to know what he was on about, but Mr. Bolton just laughed and repeated that it was just lucky that there was nobody there to witness Anita Brown’s death and therefore nobody to contradict the police’s view that it was just an accident.”
I looked at her, stunned at the news.
“D’you think he saw something after all?” asked Val, who seemed slightly bewildered.
“Of course,” I said, clapping my hands together. “He must have done. He reacted very strangely when he received the news about the cause of death. You know, when the police called. Mrs. Haughton wasn’t there,
so Bolton picked up the phone instead. And when he did, he suddenly went very quiet afterwards – which as you know isn’t like him at all. He’s usually very talkative. I didn’t understand at the time, but he was probably figuring out his next move.”
“And instead of going to the police with his account,” said Barry, delicately placing his paw against his forehead, “he decided to flaunt it in front of the committee? What a complete and utter fool.”
“But why would he do that?” asked Val. “Why wouldn’t he report it right away? I thought he wanted to get off the island as much as everybody else.”
“Bolton must have had another, stronger motive to keep it a secret,” I said. “He must have been sending the murderer an open – albeit indirect – message,” I said. “He pretty much admitted that he saw something. He must be looking for some compensation for his trouble.”
“In other words, blackmail,” said Barry.
“That’s a dangerous game to play,” said Val, looking concerned.
“Yes,” I said grimly. “Especially if you’re blackmailing a powerful sorcerer in possession of a hexanomitron. We’ve got to find him right away. Before our murderer does.”
Chapter 10
I quickly grabbed my wand from my handbag. Tearing open the door, the three of us hurtled down the corridor but quickly came to a stop on the landing. None of us knew where Randolph Bolton’s room was. Val, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, whispered:
“I’ll check downstairs in the lobby – they’ve got to have a record somewhere. I’ll be right back.”
“OK,” I said softly, “but hurry, every second counts now. I don’t Bolton knows what he’s exactly got himself into.”
She nodded and quickly descended the flight of stairs at the end of the corridor that led to the lobby. Meanwhile, Barry and I waited awkwardly in the corridor. What on earth had Bolton been thinking when he’d decided to blackmail the killer. Granted, he didn’t know about the magic powers the murderer most likely possessed. But being stuck on a remote island certainly made it an enormous gamble.