by Peter Bunzl
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“Is this what you were looking for, Jack?” Robert whispered, fingering the locket. “Because I have it now.”
A rush of footsteps on the landing interrupted his thoughts. He jumped to his feet and dipped his head, clipping the chain round his neck. The locket swung cold against his chest. He’d barely time to button up his shirt collar and hide its silvery glint, before a creaking figure stepped through the doorway towards him.
“Robert?” a soft voice called.
With relief, he saw it was not Jack, but Lily, closely followed by Malkin and Mrs Rust.
“Frying pans and fish kettles!” Mrs Rust exclaimed. “Thank goodness we’ve found you!”
“We thought you were locked in the storeroom,” Lily yelled. “But when we got back it was empty. How did you get out?”
“That man picked the lock,” Robert shouted.
“Then it’s a good thing we brought help,” Malkin growled. “Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Good.” Lily grinned and waved over at him exuberantly. “I rode home as fast as I could! Mr Wingnut’s waiting outside in the steam-wagon.” She looked around. “Where did the man go?”
“Disappeared.” Robert edged his way towards them along the cross-beam. “Apparently it’s his speciality!” He arrived at Lily’s side and pulled out the Jack of Diamonds, presenting it to her with a flourish.
Lily’s eyes went wide. “I can’t believe it!” she whispered. “Jack Door? And he gave you this?”
“Not exactly,” Robert replied. “More like hid it about my person when he stole my matches.”
“Spinning wheels and spice racks!” Mrs Rust whispered. “He could’ve robbed any one of you without you even realizing.”
“Oh tosh!” Malkin said. “I think not!”
Lily handed the card back. “He was looking for something though, wasn’t he, Robert? Something stuck up that chimney?”
“I wonder if he found it?” Malkin mused.
Robert touched a hand to his collar. The Moonlocket rested under it, nestling against his breastbone. A cold, sharp curve hanging between his shirt and skin.
“Somehow,” he said, “I don’t think he did.”
Robert stumbled through dream doorways, half-asleep. A fiery Jack of Diamonds floated before him, edged with silvery moonlight. He chased it, arms outstretched, but it flitted from reach and the ground tumbled away beneath him, pulling him from slumber into the bright blue morning, and landing him with a lurch in his bed.
He lay for a moment, catching his breath. Light streamed through the open curtains. The sun was at its midday zenith. A strange cold shape was crushed against his breast. He sat up and it swung from side to side. The Moonlocket! It had made a red C-shaped pattern on his bare skin.
Of course, it was all returning to him… How Lily and the mechanicals had brought him to Brackenbridge. When they’d got back, Mrs Rust had made a posset of milk, and Lily and Malkin had hung around to check he was feeling better, before they were shooed off to bed – that had been around five o’clock in the morning.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” he called, pulling the sheets up over his chest to hide the locket.
Miss Tock entered with a steaming jug.
“Finally awake, are you, you clanking criminal?” she chided, as she poured water out into the basin on the washstand. “I ought to box your ears for the bother you caused! We were a-jitter with worry last night… Going out with Lily like that…getting tangled up in trouble…having such a tumble and covering your clothes in a dozen different kinds of dirt!”
“Sorry,” Robert mumbled.
“Sorry won’t cut the mustard with me, I’m afraid.” Miss Tock sighed and began picking up his dirty clothes from the floor. Her face was set in anger but Robert could detect a twitch of worry in the corner of her mouth.
“Bless my brackets!” she said at last. “I can’t be cross any longer. Not for the world. We were so worried about you, Robert. You could’ve died!”
“I’m fine, honest.”
“Well, thank tock for that!” She gathered up the last of his things. “I’ll take these and have them washed. And when you’re done dressing, leave your shoes outside the door – I’ll get those cleaned as well.”
“Thank you.”
After she’d gone Robert got out of bed and tested the water in the washbowl gingerly with the tips of his fingers – it was almost as hot as her scolding! He added a little cold from the jug at his bedside and, lathering up his hands with the scented soap, proceeded to wash his face.
He took a towel from the rail and dried himself; making black sooty stains on the fluffy white wool. When he’d finished, he regarded his reflection in the round mirror of the washstand. The silver Moonlocket glinted against his chest in a shaft of afternoon sunlight.
Robert turned it back and forth, twisting the chain worriedly around his fingers. Where had it come from, before he’d found it in the chimney at Townsend’s? The most pressing worry was if Jack was still looking for it, and found out where Robert lived, what would happen then? Robert knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.
He let the locket drop and it thumped cold and hard against his breastbone, sending a shiver through his ribcage, like a stone dropped in water.
Suddenly it felt too heavy. He took it off and laid it on the bed. The silver sides and the ivory inlay actually did make it look like a crescent moon, suspended in a blue bedspread sky.
The profile face seemed to be laughing at him. What he’d thought were cheeks above the mouth were actually sort of craters. It was almost as if the man in the locket-moon had the features of the real moon itself.
Suddenly Robert felt a tiny hidden catch beneath the moon man’s nose. He held his breath and gave it a flick, half-expecting it to be locked. But, with a click, the front face of the locket swung open smoothly, revealing a tiny compartment filled with a miniature portrait, brightly coloured and barely bigger than his thumb.
Robert peered closely at it and let out a low gasp.
It showed a baby with dark curly hair and hazel eyes – just like Robert’s – clasped in a woman’s arms. Beside her stood a young man, his arm placed protectively around her shoulders, looking content. He was cut away slightly by the sickle C-shaped frame, but there was no doubt in Robert’s mind that it was Thaddeus, or that this picture was done by his hand. The baby must be him, and the woman must be his mother, Selena Townsend.
He felt a rush of elation. This Moonlocket was hers.
A clue to learning more about his ma. But who’d hidden the locket in the fireplace? His da? Did that mean he was planning to give it to Robert someday, or never at all? This was more complicated than he’d first thought.
He closed the locket and turned it over to examine the back once again, to distract himself. The leafless tree looked clearer in the daylight. Its main trunk had many branches leading off it, and stood on a sort of wavy line that perhaps represented a hillside. Then there was the red stone inlaid on the uppermost branch, and the two strange foreign-looking words underneath:
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What did they mean? Robert ran his fingers over the letters. They felt raised, like tiny pimples, cold to the touch. When he took his finger away he found he had left a greasy print on the locket’s surface. He turned the engraving round and wiped the mark away with his cuff. There, in the other corner, was a cross capped with a small arrowhead and a capital N for north. He hadn’t noticed it the night before.
All at once it occurred to him that this drawing was a map. A map Jack needed desperately. And maybe Selena knew something about the place it represented?
Robert felt sick. He couldn’t decide what was a worse prospect; him running into Jack again, or Jack threatening Selena. But he knew he had to find his ma urgently, to ask her about the locket, and warn her about Jack. Although she probably didn’t know it, Selena was all the family Robert had left, and he felt a sud
den need to protect her from harm.
He took out the envelope the locket had come in and read it carefully a second time.
Queen’s Crescent
Were those two words part of the mystery as well? Connected to the pair of foreign words on the locket? And, if so, how?
As he was thinking these things, Lily and Malkin came tumbling through the door.
“Good morning!” Lily cried. “Or is it afternoon? I must say, you look much better.” She sat down on the foot of the bed. Malkin hopped up beside her, leaving muddy footprints over the covers, and padded over to wash Robert’s face with a sandpapery tongue. Robert reached under his wagging brush, pulled out the Moonlocket and handed it to Lily.
Lily’s mouth fell open. She held it up to the light, staring incredulously. “It’s beautiful. What is it?”
“Something valuable,” Robert said. “I found it last night at the shop, after you went for help. It was hidden in the chimney in my da’s room. I think it’s what Jack was after. It was in this.” He showed her the envelope.
“Queen’s Crescent,” Lily read. “Do you think it belonged to the Queen then?”
“No, I think it belonged to my ma.”
Lily flicked the locket open and examined the picture inside. “It’s only a partial portrait.”
“True,” Robert said. “But I remember that face. It’s definitely her. That other figure with his arm around her is Da, and the baby she’s holding is me.”
“How can you be sure?” Malkin asked.
Robert pursed his lips. “Two things: the painting’s done by my da’s hand. And the second thing is, my ma’s name was Selena.”
“So?” Lily asked.
“Selena comes from Selene,” Robert explained, “which is the Latin name for moon. If she owned a locket it would be a Moonlocket, don’t you think?”
Lily closed the locket and pressed the points between her fingers, turning it around. “These markings on the back, and the two words, what can they mean?”
“At first I thought it was an engraving of a tree or a river,” Robert said. “But then I saw this little compass here in the corner, and realized it must be a map.”
Malkin leaned in close, poking at the locket with his nose. “These two words must be the key, but they aren’t in any language I know of.”
“Maybe they’re a code?” Lily traced them with a finger. “The trouble is they butt up to the edge here. The map lines too. And this red jewel that’s sort of diamond-shaped – it could be like an X marks the spot…” She sat up straight with a jolt. “Of course! This must be a map to where the Blood Moon Diamond is – that’s got to be why Jack came for the locket! He’s trying to recover his greatest treasure.”
“You think so?” Robert’s pulse quickened. He felt awash with giddy excitement.
“Of course,” Lily said. “Why else would he have come? Although I don’t understand why Selena had such a clue in the first place. Or what it was doing hidden up a chimney in your da’s shop…”
But that thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hurriedly, Lily handed him back the locket. Robert looped it around his neck, and tucked it quickly beneath his shirt collar, while Malkin jumped down off the bed.
“Come in,” he cried out finally, and the door opened to reveal Miss Tock.
“By all that ticks!” she grumbled, trundling into the room. “Was there ever such a day? There are two gentlemen to see you, Master Robert and Miss Lily. Policemen – by every account – and they’re waiting in the drawing room.”
She handed Lily a calling card.
“Inspector Fisk,” Lily read out, her brow crinkling. “Serious Crimes Squad. Scotland Yard.” Why did that name feel familiar? She pursed her lips. Of course, he was the policeman mentioned in Anna’s newspaper article.
Robert shuddered and thought immediately of Roach and Mould – those two villains had disguised themselves as the police many times when they’d tried to steal Lily’s Cogheart. Jack Door seemed just as tricksy. But surely he wouldn’t call in broad daylight? Announcing himself as the very man chasing him? That sort of show-off theatrical flourish was too much, wasn’t it…?
“You’re sure they’re police?” he asked Miss Tock.
“One of them is in uniform,” she replied. “Are you well enough disposed to receive them, Master Robert? Or shall I send Miss Lily alone? You still look rather pale.”
“I’m fine.” Robert grabbed his jacket. Only one way to find out.
“So shall I relay that the pair of you will be down shortly?”
“The three of us,” Malkin said.
“Very good.” Miss Tock stepped out into the hall.
Robert steeled himself. He did not yet know how much he wanted to reveal about the Moonlocket, and he didn’t have much time to decide.
He put a hand up to it, hanging against his chest. “For the moment,” he told Lily and Malkin, “I think we should keep this a secret.”
“As you wish,” Lily said.
“We shall follow your lead,” Malkin added.
The two policemen were sitting in the drawing room on the chaise longue, enjoying a spot of tea and a plate of Mrs Rust’s home-made almond thins, which was perched on the coffee table along with a manila folder. When Lily, Robert and Malkin entered they put down their cups and stood up.
The first man was tall and stately, with a long white beard and wearing a plain grey tweed suit rather than a uniform. Lily was certain he was Inspector Fisk. Beside him was a second fellow, who was clean-shaven except for a neatly coiffed moustache. He was decked out in a constable’s blue uniform and wore the domed hard hat of a beat bobbie, with its silver star-and-crown badge. She noticed he carried a truncheon, a rattle and a set of handcuffs in his belt.
“Ah, here’s the young gentleman and lady now,” the bearded tweedy man said.
“And a…er…fox,” added the other, noticing Malkin.
“Mechanimal,” Malkin corrected.
“Are you here to arrest us for breaking into my home?” Robert asked.
“We’re here about Jack Door.” The tweedy man stepped forward, shaking first Robert’s and then Lily’s hand. “I’m Chief Inspector Fisk of Scotland Yard, at your service. I’d be much obliged if you could tell us everything about your encounter with the escaped prisoner. My colleague here will take notes. Won’t you, Jenkins?”
“Yes, Sir.” Constable Jenkins took a pad and pencil from about his person.
“Please do include any incidental observations, no matter how small or insignificant,” the inspector said. “It may be vital to our investigation. We need to apprehend the suspect as soon as possible. He’s highly dangerous. You’re lucky to have got away with your lives.”
Inspector Fisk returned to his seat and took up his cup of tea. Constable Jenkins sat back down beside him, pencil poised at the ready.
“How do you know we met Jack?” Lily asked, as she and Robert settled themselves on the seat opposite the two policemen. Malkin jumped up onto her lap and she stroked his ears.
“Your father wired me.” Inspector Fisk crossed his legs and sat forward, reaching for his manila folder.
“He’s not my father,” Robert interrupted. “My da was Thaddeus Townsend.”
The inspector nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I meant Professor Hartman.”
“He was telegraphed by one of the mechanicals in the household very early this morning,” Constable Jenkins explained. “He was worried for your safety, and asked if we could look in on you. We travelled up from London immediately.”
The inspector gave an agitated cough and pretended to consult some notes in his folder. Lily could see he didn’t like to be interrupted. “You say you saw Mr Door at the burned-out premises, Townsend’s Horologist’s? What exactly happened?”
“We wrestled with him,” Lily explained. “He and Robert fell through the floor…”
“Then he picked a lock and escaped,” Robert finished for her.
“I
see.” The inspector shuffled his papers sceptically.
Robert bristled. “I’m telling the truth, that’s what happened!”
“He is an escapologist,” Lily added. “If you don’t believe us, go to the shop and you’ll see for yourself.”
“Oh, we believe you.” The inspector waved a hand at Constable Jenkins who wrote something down on his pad. “But we want to confirm every detail. A lot of people have been crying wolf about Mr Door since his jailbreak. What with the rewards and suchlike, you know how it is? At first I thought this might be similar,” he continued, “but then, when I looked at the…surrounding information, I had reason to believe your story might stack up.”
Robert shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What surrounding information?”
“Things to do with the Doors,” the inspector said cryptically. He leaned forward in his chair again. “Have either of you asked yourselves why Jack would come all the way to Brackenbridge to visit a destroyed shop? Who…or what was he looking for?”
“That’s obvious,” Lily said. “The Blood Moon Diamond.”
“No,” the inspector corrected. “We think he was looking for Selena Townsend – your mother, Robert. But we’ve only a few clues to go on.”
“She left when I was quite small,” Robert said. “I haven’t seen her since.”
“So I’ve heard.” The inspector’s face was grave. “Professor Hartman told me he tried to contact her following your father’s death. He placed advertisements in newspaper classifieds, but nothing showed up.”
“That’s right,” Lily said.
“Do you know your mother’s maiden name, by any chance? The one she had before she was married?”
Robert shook his head. “Is it important?”
“It might be. If what we surmise is correct.” The inspector picked some lint from his trousers. Robert could see he knew more than he was letting on. All of a sudden he decided, quite abruptly, that he didn’t like the inspector at all. Selena was his ma, he’d a right to hear everything the police knew about her. He resolved he would only tell the inspector about the locket if it was absolutely necessary.