‘Thing is, mate,’ Leo snorted. ‘Someone did…’
‘Seriously?’
Valen nodded. ‘Greedy blinkin’ pigs ate the lot!’
‘And that’s another reason Burrowes thinks it was us,’ said Leo. ‘According to him, an adult wouldn’t have been so stupid.’
‘The whole thing’s stupid!’ said Ralf. ‘What possible motive would I have to kill Kemp?’
‘Well, he’s not too bothered about finding a motive, is he?’ Val continued. ‘I told him he’d be better off talking to Gadd and Oyler Munton but he seems to think they’ve got an alibi.’
‘The man’s a donkey,’ said Alfie, coming through the front door. His expression was one of amused derision. Alfie grinned at Ralf, perched on the arm of the sofa and pulled off his tam o’ shanter. ‘Everything points to the Munton’s. It’s gotta be them. They knew they were in trouble. Kemp was sniffing around ‘em like a dog round sick. S’cuse the image,’ he said, giving Valen a winning smile. ‘Catch.’ He pulled a bag from his pocket and threw them each an apple. ‘Scrumped these from Brindle’s on the way over.’ His face fell when Ralf didn’t immediately take a bite.
‘Eat up Wolf, that might be the last decent grub you have before they cart you off to the Clink!’ he advised.
‘Stop joking around!’ yelled Valen. ‘This is serious. Even if Ralf doesn’t get arrested in the next half hour, we’ve still failed. Mr Kemp’s dead. We didn’t even get properly started and we’ve failed.’ She looked drained and thinner than she had. Ralf thought that the fire from her eyes had been extinguished at the same time as the one at Kemp’s. All that was left was a dark, smouldering anger.
‘We don’t know that –’ Leo objected.
‘Don’t be thick, Leo!’ Valen snapped. ‘He was murdered! What other reason would anyone have to kill Gordon Kemp if he wasn’t one of the Natus?’
‘But Ralf said Winters was the Natus, not Kemp,’ insisted Leo. ‘You saw his aura with your Echo Eye right? You were sure it was him!’
‘I thought I was. But,’ Ralf admitted, ‘I didn’t see Kemp after my eye changed. His aura could’ve been just as bright as Winters’.’
‘So we are stuffed then?’ Alfie asked.
The silence grew.
‘Maybe the other four Natus can manage it on their own?’ Leo offered, eventually. ‘And the Arbuckles are the important ones, aren’t they? They’re still O.K.’
‘The rhyme said ‘Five!’ Valen yelled, cutting the quiet. ‘Five! And one of them is dead! It’s hopeless!’
‘No, Valen,’ said Ralf. ‘That night on the boat. It was one of the things that Ambrose told me. I didn’t get it at the time. He said ‘Five will become Four’ but we shouldn’t give up.’
‘Exactly. I say we carry on as before,’ said Leo. ‘We don’t even know for certain Mr Kemp was one of the Natus. So – so let’s hope he wasn’t.’ Leo’s eyes met Ralf’s and then he looked at the others in turn. ‘I can’t explain it,’ he said. ‘I know you all feel bad. I feel bad. Mr Kemp was, for certain, a ‘righteous man’. But there are other Natus out there, other Righteous Echoes, and they need our help. We can’t give up. I know we can’t.’
There was a noise in the hall and then Seth walked in, his face flushed. ‘Well let’s not count our chickens too soon,’ He stopped, giggled, threw himself into a chair then sniggered again.
Ralf raised his eyebrows. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Not really!’ said Seth. ‘Winters is gone! Talk about unbelievable! A huge black car came for him ten minutes ago. He said he had to look after me but they just bundled him in the back. Wouldn’t say where they were taking him or anything. Just took him. Now we haven’t got Kemp or Winters.’ He started giggling again. He looked feverish and drawn. His new haircut made him look gaunt and the circles under his eyes were darker than ever. His fingernails, Ralf noticed, were bitten to the quick.
‘Stop.’ Ralf’s voice was quiet but his tone clear.
‘Fine,’ Seth replied, shortly. ‘I’ll stop. But tell me, do you have a backup plan to save the world? Because our first one doesn’t seem to be going too well!’
‘No he doesn’t, Seth,’ said Alfie quietly. ‘No one does ‘cos it’s like Ambrose said. We won’t know what to do until it happens and then when everything kicks off it’ll all be clear. Or not!’ He grinned. ‘The point is – is what I said to Wolf before the run. There’s nothing we can really do about the Natus for what…’ he looked at his new pocket watch, ‘…thirty-six hours? In the meantime, I reckon we have some serious problems to solve.’
‘Like what?’ asked Ralf in surprise. He hadn’t expected Alfie to be so thoughtful about the whole thing.
‘Well, back in the real world I think we’ve gotta find out who started the fire and, o’ course, who’s nicked the History teacher!’
There was a snort of laughter at that then Seth was off again, laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks.
‘Enough!’ Ralf shouted. How could they be sniggering like that? Seth of all people? ‘Alfie’s right. We have to remember that whatever happens our ‘other selves’ will be left dealing with this whole mess unless we sort it out. I’m facing a murder charge and you lot could be done as accomplices. Until tomorrow night our priority is to clear our names.’
They looked at each other, serious again.
‘Makes sense,’ said Leo. ‘Let’s deal with what we can now. While we’ve still got time.’
Seth’s face changed suddenly and a little spark appeared in his eyes. ‘And if you find the murderer, who must be the person who’s behind all this, then chances are, you’ll stop whatever catastrophic event is due to occur on the twenty-seventh anyway.’
‘Right,’ said Ralf. ‘Seth. You first. Can you get up to the school and make out you’re all upset about not having anyone at home? Find out if they know where Winters has gone and who took him.’
Seth nodded. ‘Okay. They might make me stay up there for a bit but I’ll get back here as soon as I can.’
‘Valen, you get back to the shop,’ Ralf continued. ‘The best way to prove we’re innocent is to find out who really did murder Mr Kemp. So we’ll need to keep an ear out in the village.’
Valen sighed. ‘Alright. I’d better get back anyway. Mr Hatcher’s right baity with me. But if you ask me, I won’t hear anything there. Not many customers lately. Besides, we all know it was the Muntons. They probably chloroformed Kemp before they torched the shop.’
Ralf nodded. ‘I think we should have another look for the Munton’s hideout.’ He scratched his head and then came to a decision. ‘Burrowes has got no hard evidence against me but it’s probably better to keep out of his way as much as I can. Leo, can you go and get Cabal and we can check out Tarzy Wood again tonight or in the morning?’
‘No problem.’ Leo got to his feet and the others followed suit.
‘Well, I’m gonna carry on with Operation Psyche Out,’ Alfie said. ‘Not that any of you have asked! It’s only a matter of time ‘til they crack.’
‘But, that’s all you do,’ said Ralf sternly. ‘Watch them. We need to remember what we’re up against.
‘Yeah,’ breathed Valen. ‘There’s a murderer out there.’
They went their separate ways and Leo returned with Cabal just before teatime with a message from Hilda. Apparently, Burrowes had been talking to Major Kingston-Hawke and Gloria had overheard that the Inspector was all set to take Ralf in to custody. Gloria, with admirable quick wittedness for someone who had her head in the clouds most of the time, had rushed straight down to the kitchen to warn Hilda. Ralf’s sister had promptly had a mysterious dizzy spell and had been sent home to recuperate.
‘Here,’ said Leo, passing over a covered basket. ‘There’s food in there for tonight and tomorrow. Hilda said to stay away until she’d had a chance to talk some sense in to Burrowes.’
‘Does she know I’m here?’
Leo shook his head. ‘She asked if you had shelter but said she didn’
t want to know where you were so she wouldn’t have to lie.’
Ralf rummaged in the basket and found a package of scraps for Cabal who was slobbering all over the table in anticipation. ‘It’s so stupid. Even if I’d wanted to kill Kemp, I couldn’t have. Hilda was with me the whole time.’
‘That’s just the thing, though,’ said Leo. ‘You don’t have an alibi. Hilda didn’t get in until about two in the morning the night Kemp was killed but Burrowes says the fire started at one.’
‘Great,’ said Ralf, sinking into a chair.
The two boys watched Cabal chomp down his supper in silence. At length, Leo left and, after a cold but surprisingly enjoyable meal of ham, tongue, hard-boiled eggs, jam tart and milk Ralf locked doors, closed curtains, lit a paraffin lamp and settled in for the night.
Springfield had warmed up considerably since the first time they were there but as night fell the temperature dropped. Ralf didn’t want to risk lighting a fire (though the cottage was isolated, the smoke might still be seen) but found a paraffin heater tucked away in the corner of the sitting room. He managed to get it going and, wrapped in blankets, holding the comforting weight of his bulging marble bag, curled up with Cabal in front of its warmth.
He woke, stiff in the joints but surprisingly well rested, some time before sunrise and his first thought was not of himself, or Hilda or Burrowes but of the Natus. Today was the day.
He threw off the blankets and rushed to turn on the wireless.
‘...British Troops in Calais have been joined by French and Belgian volunteers to continue the defence of the town against the Nazi advance...’ Clive Addlethorpe reported and Ralf’s thoughts immediately turned to his brother. Niall was there somewhere, amongst those many thousands of men. Was he fighting? Pinned down by enemy fire, hoping for a chance to cut through to the beaches to await rescue?
‘...Although facing a sizeable opposition, the troops are supported by the Navy and RAF. Brigadier Nicholson, Commander of the Calais garrison has every faith in the men –’
Abruptly, Ralf was struck by a terrible feeling of claustrophobia. He could sit still no longer. He stood and turned the dial on the wireless, cutting off Mr Addlethorpe in mid flow. He raided Hilda’s basket for the remains of the food and found bread, a little pot of jam and a tin of Pard Dog Meat. Boy and dog wolfed down their breakfast as though it were their last meal. Ralf grabbed his knapsack and headed for the front door.
His eye was drawn to a piece of paper lying in the centre of the doormat. His heart lurched. That hadn’t been there before! Who knew he was there?
Ralf snatched it up and read it with mounting panic.
Wolf,
I can’t wait any longer. We’re doing nothing and going nowhere. I’m sorry, but you need to understand. I’m proud of being Jewish, but until we travelled back in time The Shoah, The Holocaust, was like Remembrance Sunday. A terrible story. A memory of horrific things that happened long ago – to someone else. Now though, I’m living it and being a Jew is important to me, to what I believe, the way I see things, everything I stand for…
I’m going to France. Hitler will be in Dunkirk in a week or so. That should give me enough time. I don’t think we can change our timeline here but I may be able to make a difference to his. I’m going to stop Hitler before it’s too late.
I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not just about my family. They’re safe. They made it to Gibraltar but Wolf, hundreds of thousands won’t. Grandfather got a letter. The neighbours that kept my parents hidden those last months have been arrested. We both know what will happen to them. They were normal German people but they saved my parent’s lives and the lives of dozens of others. Now they’re going to die for it. They weren’t very important – but neither was Johan Elser. They tried. Now I’m going to try too.
Seth.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Road Not Taken
It all made sense now: the Officer Training Corps at school, the short haircut, Seth’s questions about Hitler’s movements, the way he’d been so distracted, his mad behaviour the previous morning when Winters had disappeared. Seth had been planning this for some time Ralf realised. He crumpled the letter in his fist. Why hadn’t he spotted the signs earlier? He might have been able to do something to stop his friend. This crazy plan to kill Hitler was surely suicide. He stuffed Seth’s note in to his pocket and, forgetting everything except the need to see the other Turnarounders, ran through the front door, slamming it behind him. Within minutes Springfield was far behind him as he Shifted in the half-light towards Sedley’s Farm.
As he hoped, all at the farm were already at work. He found Alfie mucking out the Sedleys’ barn.
‘Psssst!’ Ralf beckoned to Alfie from behind a bale of straw.
‘You can come out, Wolf,’ said Alfie. ‘No worries. The Sedleys are down at Sefton’s field…disinfecting.’
Ralf stepped in to the shaft of light that filtered through the open door. ‘Sorry about Sefton,’ he said.
Alfie shrugged and tried for a grin but it came out crooked and faded as it had arrived.
‘They’re coming for the rest of the herd next week, anyway,’ he croake. ‘Ministry says we have to switch to crops now, ‘cos of the war and that. Mr Sedley’s gutted.’
‘Sorry, Alfie,’ said Ralf. ‘I’ve got more bad news.’ He told him about Seth.
‘Any chance we can stop ‘im?’ Alfie asked.
Ralf shook his head.
‘Perfect timing, eh?’ Alfie said. ‘Today’s the day and brainbox decides to go walkabout.’ He propped his broom in the corner of the barn and adjusted his tam o’ shanter. ‘So, let’s get moving, then. We better track down the others.’
Ten minutes later the remaining Turnarounders were huddled behind fishing baskets and packing crates in the tiny storage yard near Hatcher’s Catch. They were keeping their voices low because Mrs Hatcher was in the shop, only a few feet away.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Leo exclaimed. ‘Ever since we got here Seth’s been going on about acting normal and not altering the course of history.’
Valen snorted. ‘Bearing in mind he’s on his way to France to kill Hitler, I think we can safely say he’s rejected that piece of his own advice!’
Ralf managed a wry smile. ‘But we’re sticking to the plan, okay?
Leo nodded. ‘Watch the Natus. Help them when it all kicks off.’
Ralf cleared his throat. ‘But we’ve got to be careful,’ he said. ‘Stay cool.’
Valen sniggered. When she turned her eyes were merry with laughter.
‘What?’
‘So our plan is basically, ‘keep calm and carry on’?’ she asked.
Ralf shrugged. ‘It really is the best we can do at the moment.’
‘Four minutes past twelve tonight,’ Valen said in awe. ‘Just over eighteen hours, and I feel so helpless!’
‘Me too,’ said Ralf. ‘But in the meantime, we need to discover who killed Kemp. Alfie you’re on the Muntons, okay? Just watching mind.’
‘Off,’ said Alfie, breaking into a crouched run.
‘Leo, you’re with me.’
‘Valentine!’ Mrs Hatcher called from the shop. ‘Val! I need you to wash the counter!’
‘I know. And I’m here keeping my ear to the ground’, Valen sighed, standing. ‘But go down and check on Alfie every now and then, will you Ralf? He’s not as careful as he should be around Gadd.’
An hour later, Ralf and Leo had failed once more to find the Munton’s Tarzy Wood hideout. Again, Cabal had prowled across the clearing in the woods and nosed round the entrance to the Zero Station but, despite pulling back branches and peering under bushes, they could find no sign of the Munton’s den. Taking Valen’s advice, they hurried back to the harbour to check on Alfie, Shifting where possible and, aware that Burrowes was still on the hunt for Ralf, keeping out of sight.
Once at the harbour, Ralf left Leo and Cabal aboard The Fisher King whilst he hurried down to the moorings to check on t
he youngest Turnarounder. When he got there he saw Alfie’s Crew were, despite the hour, again in position. Alfie, however, was crouched low on the jetty his back resting on the Munton’s boat. The small boy put a finger to his lips then signalled to Ralf. Moving as quietly as a fox, Ralf darted down the stone steps and crept bent double along the wooden mooring to join him at The Lot's Lady’s bobbing hull. Concealed by the stack of half-loaded crates they froze, listening. The windows and hatches were closed tight but over the lap of the waves they could just make out the Munton’s conversation.
‘There’s nothing for it but to go through the back! We can’t use the front!’ Gadd growled. ‘Cheeseman or Sedley could turn up at any time. Damn that bunker!’
Ralf felt a rush of pride. He’d been right! The Munton’s hideout was in Tarzy Wood and it must be very near The Zero Station. He smiled. How frustrated the two smugglers must have been when the Zero Station was constructed on their front door step!
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Oyler whined. ‘Were gonna get our heads blowed off!’
‘I doubt you’d even notice, you girt plank! You’ve not used your noggin for years!’
‘Shut your neck, Gadd! I may not be bright but I knows enough not to go traipsing through a bloomin’ firing range. ‘Specially in the middle of the night when we can’t see all them craters and barbed wire.’
‘Get hold o’ yerself, yer big looby!’ Gadd barked. ‘We made a bargain, see? And we keeps our end of it!’ A chair scraped and something heavy thudded into the boat’s hull on the inside.
‘Mind me head!’ Oyler squealed. ‘There’s no need to be getting nasty wiv me! I never made a bargain with no one!’
‘Ar, but you were right happy to spend the money, weren’t you!’
‘I din’t know it’d be like this. No more did you!’
‘No, well true as that maybe, He’s seen us right so far. When the coppers were getting close He sorted it. He said the Bakery fire’d be a distraction and it worked.’
The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue Page 43