Knocker and Napoleon looked dazed as they walked away from the policeman, obeying his orders although their brains were reeling.
‘What’s it all about?’ asked Treld. ‘I don’t understand. Who are all these people? What are they doing with the Woollies? And plastic ears?’
Napoleon looked at Knocker and Knocker returned the stare evenly, his eyes as cold as a tombstone. A lot of things were becoming clear. Napoleon’s face grew spiteful. ‘They ain’t Borrible,’ he said, ‘They’re something else.’
‘But they’re the right size,’ said Treld.
‘They are,’ said Napoleon, ‘and that’s all they are. Apart from that they’re adults.’
Knocker swore. That was how they had been captured so easily on Clapham Common and that was how Sam had been taken. The circus Borribles had not been Borribles at all. That must be it. They had been dwarfs or midgets, just like these, working for the SBG and Sussworth. How could he have missed it? Knocker kicked at the ground. ‘Dammit!’ Even now he’d only made this discovery out of luck. If he’d only known beforehand he could have left Ninch and Scooter behind with the meffos at King’s Cross.
‘You realize what this means,’ said Napoleon, as angry as Knocker was; he hated being taken for a mug. ‘It means we spent all that time at King’s Cross being loyal to a pair of traitors. We could have left them there.’
‘Who?’ asked Swish and Treld together, puzzled.
‘Those two we brought with us,’ said Knocker, ‘the ones who’d been locked up by the meffos; well they ain’t Borribles they’re dwarfs, like these here, spies.’
Napoleon was beside himself with worry. ‘And our mates don’t know,’ he said. ‘We must get back to the flats before them midgets do any more harm.’
Another policeman called out at that moment and strolled towards the four Borribles. He was carrying a handful of small paper packages. ‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘These’ll fit you a treat. There’s some glue as well.’ He spun on his heel and returned to the squad cars.
The Borribles waited a second or two and then opened the paper bags they’d been given. Inside each one, nicely wrapped, was a pair of Borrible ears, or rather the top halves of them, made from flesh-coloured plastic, perfect replicas, hollowed out to make them weightless and with special grooves to take the superglue. They were indistinguishable from the real thing.
‘Blimey,’ said Napoleon, ‘how the Mother Hubbard can we wear two pairs of ears at one and the same time? We’re for it now.’
‘It’s risky all right,’ agreed Knocker, ‘but I get the feeling that if we try to run off we’ll get caught, but if we pretend to be dwarfs and go through with it then we’ll get away.’
The policeman with the clipboard called out again and the line moved forward.
‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ said Swish. ‘We’ll have to shove these plastic jobs in our pocket and make out that our real ears are plastic ones.’
‘That’s it,’ said Treld. ‘And while we’re waiting we’ll pretend we’re sticking them on, like.’
‘Supposing they recognize us, Knocker?’ said Napoleon. ‘It’ll be curtains then, eh?’
Knocker shook his head. ‘Not likely,’ he said. ‘Sussworth only ever saw us once, remember, when we were captured on Clapham Common, but we were all of us covered in mud, all our clothes, our faces. All you have to do, Nap, is just be polite.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ replied Napoleon, ‘but I do know that we’ll never have a better chance then this for getting rid of Sussworth, like we did Dewdrop. What about it, Knocker? He wouldn’t be able to kill Sam then, would he?’
Again Knocker shook his head. ‘It wouldn’t help,’ he answered. ‘Somebody else would only kill Sam and we’d get caught and we wouldn’t be able to warn the others about the dwarfs. No, the main thing is to make sure we stay alive long enough to get back to King’s Cross.’
‘And deal with Ninch and Scooter,’ said the Wendle.
‘Yes,’ said Knocker, ‘that’s for sure.’
As they moved closer to the caravan the four Borribles started to go through the motions of glueing on their ears, making a great show of it. These efforts seemed hardly worthwhile however for not one of the policeman on duty nearby took the slightest notice of them. On the other hand the dwarfs who were standing in front of the Borribles became very interested in the activity.
‘’Ere,’ said one of them to Swish, ‘you’ve done yours a treat. Could you help me stick mine on?’
‘And me,’ said another. ‘Make a good impression on the inspector, that will, I bet.’
Swish agreed readily; she was only too pleased to occupy her nervous hands with some kind of work and Knocker thought it might be a good moment to ask questions. He looked at the dwarf nearest him, not liking what he saw: a face that was neither adult nor childlike, neither old nor young, a strange blank face a bit like Ninch’s. Knocker forced a smile.
‘How did you get the job,’ he asked, ‘you’re not a copper are you?’
‘No fear,’ said the dwarf. He was feeling his newly stuck-on ears and Knocker had to admit that they changed his whole appearance. ‘They advertised in the stage papers; we’re only in it for the money. You know, cop it and hop it is our motto.’
‘Is it much money?’ asked Napoleon, sidling up close.
‘Aha,’ continued the dwarf, ‘it all depends on how many Borribles we catch, special bonuses. It’s going to be very exciting, sloping round the town at night, spying. They’re murderers, you know. Killed a poor old rag-and-bone man and his harmless son in Southfields. They told us.’
‘The villains,’ said Napoleon.
‘Villains is right,’ said the dwarf. ‘Ain’t scared, are you?’
Knocker laughed. ‘I think he is. Look, he’s gone quite pale.’
Before Knocker could ask any more questions the policeman with the clipboard crouched down beside them all and inspected their ears; dwarfs first, then the Borribles.
‘They’re very good,’ he said, ‘some of the best I’ve seen. My goodness me, if I didn’t know you weren’t I’d swear you were, in a court of law too. Excellent.’ And with that he marshalled the dwarfs into the caravan and the four Borribles were left waiting at the foot of Sussworth’s steps on their own.
They did not wait long. In less than ten minutes’ time the four dwarfs were sent quickly on their way and it was the turn of Knocker and Napoleon, Swish and Treld, to climb towards the figure of Sergeant Hanks who stood just by the caravan’s open door, waving them into the presence of Inspector Sussworth.
The four Borribles stepped bravely forward and were made to stand in a line facing a huge desk. Sussworth sat behind it looking tiny, flicking through his papers. Above him on the wall, a new addition to the decor, were two photos, one of Field Marshal Montgomery, the other of Rommel, both smiling.
Slightly to the side of the Borribles a kettle was bubbling; just in front of them Sergeant Hanks leant against his bunk, his fat arms folded. The double bed had been folded away and a policeman sat in its place at a temporary desk, keeping a record of all that was said.
‘These are the last four tonight,’ he said, and read out the names. ‘Swish, Treld, Backander and Sprazi.’
Without looking up Sussworth suddenly shouted, ‘And what do you say when you hear a Borrible name?’
‘Er … what a good name, I hope that I shall hear the story of the winning of it, one day,’ said Knocker, his throat dry.
‘Good,’ said Sussworth. ‘Remember, every one of you from now on and into the future has to live and think like a Borrible. If they so much as guess your true identity your lives won’t be worth a second-hand peanut. On the other hand … for every ordinary common or garden Borrible you capture I shall pay the sum of two hundred pounds. If by chance any subsequent investigation and questioning of your prisoner should lead us to any one of the Southfields murderers you will receive a further thousand pounds. But if any of you become responsible for
the capture of any of that gang of malefactors yourselves, well, there will be a reward of five thousand pounds.’ Sussworth leant forward, his moustache quivered. ‘Just imagine that. I happen to know that there are approximately ten of these vagrants in the Southfields gang, so it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that you could catch yourself a grand total of fifty thousand pounds. That is enough to retire to Portugal on, several times.’
Knocker did not know how the others were feeling but he had never been so nervous in his whole life. The sweat poured from his brow and into his eyes. He gulped and wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, then he clasped his hands behind his back to keep them still. He looked round the caravan, studying it. It was so clean. The wood stank of polish, the chrome fittings were burnished bright and the carpet was spotless; and in the place where he and his companions stood was a plastic sheet, spread there to keep mud from the floor.
‘So,’ continued Sussworth, twitching his face at Hanks, ‘what do you think of them?’
The sergeant pushed himself upright. ‘Well, sir, I gave them the once-over as they came in. They certainly look like Borribles,’ he said. ‘In fact they look more like Borribles than some Borribles do.’
‘Excellent,’ said the inspector, and he jumped to his feet and dodged round the desk like a matador avoiding a bull, his steps delicate but urgent. He continued his progress and danced towards the Borribles in waltz time, finally teetering to a stop in front of them. There he clenched his hands into fists, stretched his shoulders towards the ceiling and switched his moustache from side to side as if he were trying to scratch his ear lobes with it. All this effort made his eyes bright with a mad fire.
‘I want you volunteers to understand,’ he said, ‘the responsibilities and dangers you are undertaking. Borribles are nasty, Borribles are a social enemy; above all there are these Southfields assassins, and I will have them here, in front of me, their ears littering the floor. I have their names engraved on my heart. I know them all: Knocker, Chalotte, Napoleon Boot, Orococco, Bingo, Stonks, Twilight, Vulge, Torreycanyon, but, perhaps worst of all. …’ Sussworth’s voice rose to a scream, he brandished his fist and leapt up and down, his spittle spraying over the faces of the four Borribles like acid ‘ … perhaps the worst of all is that animal-lover, Sydney. Ah, but I have the horse and she’ll never see that again. Safe in an abattoir it’s kept, roped to a wall at tail and head. And it is your duty, you dwarfs, to patrol the streets and to see that no Borrible gets anywhere near it. That horse is dirty and filthy and the Borribles love it; it’s their pride and joy and I have sworn to wipe it from the face of the earth.’
Sussworth drew in a deep breath and pushed his face close to Knocker’s. ‘Haven’t I seen you before, dwarf?’
‘I don’t think so, sir,’ answered Knocker. His mind went blank with fear.
‘It’s just that we’ve made ourselves up to look so much like Borribles,’ interrupted Treld, touching her gold and blue hair, ‘that you think we are Borribles, and that’s what’s upsetting you.’
‘You’re the type of thing I mean exactly,’ said Sussworth. He switched his attention to the girls. ‘I mean you look ghastly and horrid enough to undermine society all on your own. The Borribles will love you, yes, certainly, and the ears! Oh, Hanks, never have I seen such wonderful appendages.’ He stared closely at Napoleon. ‘Look at that, Hanks, excellent again. With dwarfs like this on the streets the Borribles will not escape me now.’ The weakest of smiles flickered on Sussworth’s lips for a millisecond before dying like a broken filament in a light bulb. He turned twice on his heels and banged them together, ending up to face the huge map of London which covered part of one wall.
The inspector pointed south of the river. ‘These layabouts,’ he began, ‘were last seen in a definite location somewhere between Clapham Common South Side and Brixton High Road. We have good reason to believe that the aforementioned are making their way in a roundabout fashion towards a certain abattoir, which is here.’ Sussworth pointed to Baynes Street. ‘It is here also,’ he continued, ‘that the equus is incarcerated in order to ensure its eventual transformation into mincemeat. It is guarded night and day by twenty men with another fifty within call, and then there’s the dwarfs … Not quite sure how many there are of them … lots anyway.’ Sussworth drew a deep breath, bowed at the map as if to a large audience and then pirouetted until he faced his sergeant. ‘Have I said everything, Hanks?’ he asked.
Hanks leant out from the wall again and his powerful hands stroked his enormous belly and it quivered with pleasure. ‘Just the two dwarfs who have disappeared, sir. Worth a mention, sir, I always say. We ought to keep our eyes peeled for their bodies.’
‘Quite so,’ said Sussworth. ‘I was about to remind you to remind me.’ He addressed the Borribles once more. ‘There were two of your sort sending back tip-top intelligence—disappeared. Haven’t had a word from them since they left us at Clapham South …’
‘Aristotle Rule,’ murmured Napoleon.
‘Quite,’ said Sussworth, not understanding what the Wendle had said. ‘I fear that throats may have been cut …’
‘Soon will be,’ murmured Napoleon again.
‘Yes,’ said Sussworth, ‘if you find Scinch and Nooter you must give them every available assistance, get them back to me. They will be in possession of masses of information and I need it.’
‘Oh they’ll be coming back to you,’ said Napoleon. ‘I’ll see to that myself.’
‘Good,’ said Sussworth, and he jerked his elbows like a cockerel its wings. ‘Well that’s it, Hanks, send them on their way. Tell them to report by telephone, emergency services only, secretly, you know.’ And with this parting remark the inspector gyrated back to his seat like a man fencing with the three musketeers all at once. Arrived at his chair he fell into it and closed his eyes with exhaustion. Now nothing of him moved save the tiny moustache, which still quivered doubtfully on his upper lip like a swallow undecided about migration.
The constable at the table began to shuffle his papers together and Hanks rolled to the caravan door and opened it.
‘Come on you dwarfs,’ he said. ‘Out. The inspector’s had a very busy day, he never stops. He’s got to rest and I’ve got to eat. By the way you’d better have the password … it’s “Blancmange”.’ ‘Blancmange,’ said Knocker. ‘What’s that for?’
‘For us,’ said Hanks. ‘You see we have to be able to tell who you are or we might take you for real Borribles. You wouldn’t like that. So if a policeman thinks you are a Borrible just say “Blancmange” to him and he’ll realize you’re one of ours and let you go.’
Napoleon smiled a smile of infinite cunning. Knocker had never seen him smile so broadly. ‘You mean,’ said the Wendle, hardly able to believe what Hanks had told him, ‘you mean that all we got to say is “Blancmange” and your coppers will let us go?’
‘That’s the whole point,’ said Hanks, ‘the whole point.’
‘Well,’ said Napoleon, ‘that’s ace, that is, really ace!’
Hanks nodded, preoccupied, his thoughts turning towards food. He pushed the Borribles through the door and down the steps. ‘I know it is,’ he said. ‘I invented it.’ And with that he went back into the caravan to cook his supper, having first closed the door firmly behind him. He was very, very hungry.
9
It was past midnight when Knocker and Napoleon and their two Conker companions arrived at the rough plank hoarding that surrounded the Caledonian tower block. Two guards let them in with hardly a word, and they crossed the lightless yard and climbed silently to the third floor and entered the flat, where the Adventurers waited for them, their faces anxious. Chalotte smiled with relief as the four scouts came into the room; she lost that smile when she saw Knocker’s expression. He walked to the table, took his hand from his pocket and threw down two plastic ears. There was a gasp of astonishment from everyone in the room. Swish and Treld threw their plastic ears on the table too and then went into th
e kitchen to help themselves to some bread. Napoleon closed the front door behind him and leant against it with folded arms. No one was going out that way without his say-so. There was silence. The Adventurers got to their feet and stared.
‘Ears,’ said Bingo. ‘What poor blighter are they off?’
Knocker pointed at them, his face grim. ‘They aren’t off anyone,’ he said, ‘but they look real, don’t they? It’s Sussworth’s latest little trick and we’ve all been fooled by it. Right along the line. It’s a wonder we’re still alive.’
‘That’s right,’ said Napoleon. ‘Sussworth’s got these midgets and dwarfs all over London with ears like that stuck on ’em, pretending to be Borribles … and what’s worse we’ve had two of ’em with us, all the way, and we risked our necks for ’em.’
Chalotte picked up one of the ears. ‘Ninch and Scooter,’ she said.
‘That’s right,’ said Napoleon. ‘And as far as I’m concerned they’re going out that window and down to the ground so fast they’ll think they’re brick pigeons. Where are they?’
‘Gone,’ said Stonks. ‘One minute they were here, the next gone.’
‘We thought they’d just nipped out to get some food,’ said Sydney.
Napoleon swore and shook his fist at everyone in the room. ‘You idiots,’ he shouted. ‘And what about the Aristotle Rule, eh? Them dwarfs weren’t s’posed to go out on their own … Now we’re in trouble, you bloody imbeciles.’
‘How could we be suspicious when they’d been through all that with Madge?’ said Twilight.
‘Yes,’ said Torreycanyon. ‘They followed us after the escape from Clapham South; they came on the river with us even though they were scared.’
‘That was their bleedin’ job,’ screamed Napoleon. ‘All they had to do was stay with us and tell Sussworth where we were and what we were doing.’
There was another silence for a while. Vulge went into the kitchen to make some tea and Orococco said, ‘What happened with you lot? How did you get on?’
The Borribles: Across the Dark Metropolis Page 19