“About a century ago.” Trevor’s voice suddenly grew serious. “It terrorized the countryside for months.” Xena noticed that the couple had drawn closer together, and the man took the woman’s hand. Xena shivered. Was it the coolness of the shadowy forest or something else that suddenly raised goose bumps on her arms?
“Nobody ever found out what it was,” Trevor went on, “although lots of people tried, even the famous detective Sherlock Holmes.”
Xena and Xander shared a secret smile.
“But even though he later solved the case of the mysterious Hound of the Baskervilles, he couldn’t figure out what the Beast of Blackslope was. And now it’s back.”
Then Trevor stopped short and crouched over. “Look—footprints!” Everybody crowded around some dents in the ground. It was hard to tell exactly what they were though.
The couple took picture after picture, the flashes going nonstop.
Then the sun went behind a cloud and a cool wind rose up, scattering leaves and twigs. The woman glanced nervously at her husband. “Isn’t it time we were leaving? I mean, we were going to have tea in that little café … .”
“Yes, yes,” the man said hurriedly. “Thank you, Trevor. It was interesting but we have to get back to town now.” They turned and plunged through the underbrush, nearly running.
Xander took a deep breath to slow his heartbeat. He didn’t want Trevor to see how nervous the tale had made him, so he squatted and inspected the marks. He wasn’t sure—were these really prints or just dents in the ground? They weren’t anywhere near as clear as the one he and Xena had found.
“How did you manage to find these prints?” asked Xena.
“I hike a lot and I know the area pretty well, so I know where to look.” Trevor shrugged. “You see a lot if you just keep your eyes open.”
“Trevor knows altogether too much about that Beast,” Xena said. “He ‘stumbled on’ those footprints awfully easily, didn’t he?”
“Do you think he faked them?” Xander couldn’t help feeling relieved at the thought.
“Maybe he did. I’m still not convinced there is a Beast.”
“There was a real hound in The Hound of the Baskervilles,” Xander reminded her. “Besides, what about the howls we heard?”
“I wonder if that was a didgeridoo,” Xena said. “Remember, that Australian instrument Trevor talked about?”
“Do you think he’s making the howling sounds with a horn?”
“Maybe,” Xena said. “One thing is sure. Trevor knows more than he’s saying. And remember how Mr. Tuttle said people around here wanted to keep quiet about the Beast?”
Xander nodded. “I was just thinking that. Trevor sure doesn’t!”
“I know. And he’s making money off the legend too. We’ve got another suspect—Trevor!”
CHAPTER 15
Xena was sitting alone at the table when Xander came down to breakfast the next morning.
“So?” she asked. They had decided that Xander should try to get some information out of Trevor the night before.
“Nothing.” Xander shook his head. “Nada. Zilch. Zero.”
“I wish I’d been the one to question him.” Xena buttered her crumpet. “I could have gotten him to talk.”
“Nuh-uh.” Xander reached for the jam. “Trevor was working on a school project on American history and wanted to know all about the Declaration of Independence. He wouldn’t talk about anything else.”
“We’ll just have to talk to him later. Let’s go into town and see if we can find out anything more. That’s been our best source of information so far.”
They set off down Blackslope’s main street. “What’s all that noise?” Xena asked. She walked faster. The day had dawned bright and cool after an overnight rainstorm, and right after breakfast their parents had left to go sightseeing with some people they had met at the pre-auction viewing.
But now three cars were parked in the lot in front of the tourist agency, and loud voices were coming from the small crowd gathered on the sidewalk. One man in the crowd looked familiar. It was Mr. Whittaker.
They broke into a run, Xander straining to match his sister’s pace. They slowed in front of the tourist agency, and Xena slipped into the crowd.
“All I’m telling you is what I saw,” Mr. Whittaker was saying obstinately, as though someone had challenged him, “and what I heard.”
“What exactly was that?” asked a stout woman wearing a business suit.
Mr. Whittaker turned to her and took off his hat. “Just what I told them earlier, Madam Mayor.”
“Yes, Mr. Whittaker,” she said patiently. “But I didn’t hear what you said. I was indoors.”
He sighed loudly and replaced his hat. “Late last night I was out on the manor grounds, going back to my cottage, when I heard something moving, near the stable. I didn’t like the sound of it, it being dark and all, so I stopped where I was and ducked behind the old oak tree—you know the old oak tree by the stable?”
“Yes, yes,” the mayor said. “Do go on.”
“Well, as I was hiding there I saw something.” He paused and looked around. Everyone, including Xander standing on the edge of the crowd, pressed in a little closer. It seemed as if all the people were holding their breath.
“And what did you see?” asked a man.
“I saw,” Mr. Whittaker said, and paused again as the mayor rolled her eyes, “I saw the Beast.”
A few gasps rose from the crowd.
“Go on, please, Whittaker. How did you know it was …” The mayor looked around. She didn’t seem to notice Xena standing almost right next to her, but she lowered her voice anyway. “How did you know it was the Beast?”
“How did I know?” The old man sounded incredulous. “What else could it be? It was large, Madam Mayor, taller than the tallest man here, and broad. It was shaggy and the way it walked wasn’t human.”
Xander felt a chill creep up his spine. Mr. Whittaker sure sounded convincing.
“What did you do?” asked a woman.
“Watched it. Watched it as it climbed over a fence. You can see it now, all broken where the creature’s great weight smashed it. And then off it went through the forest, knocking down shrubs and breaking branches. Then it howled, that howl we’ve all heard at one time or another.” People nodded and murmured.
“Then what?” asked the mayor.
“Then I locked myself in my cottage until daylight and I came here to report it.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Phone was out,” Mr. Whittaker answered. “Again, Madam Mayor,” he added pointedly, as though this was her fault.
Xena looked at Xander, and he could tell what she was thinking: Maybe the Beast is real after all.
Before either one could say anything, a woman came out of the tourist agency and slammed the door behind her. The door opened again immediately, and a young man came running after her. “Please reconsider,” he said.
“You brought me here under false pretenses!” the woman snapped. “All I wanted was to spend a pleasant week in the country and buy some antiques. You should tell people there’s a wild animal running loose in the woods!”
She got into an expensive-looking car and drove off with a squeal of tires. Almost immediately the spot she had vacated was filled by a battered car that came from the direction of the manor house. A man hopped out and hurried into the tourist agency. A boy followed him out of the car. It was Ian, and he had a fresh bandage on his knee. That boy is such a klutz, Xander thought. He moved away from the crowd and went to say hello. “Was that your father?” he asked. Ian nodded.
Xena joined them. “What happened to you?” She pointed at his bandage.
“Oh, this?” Ian looked down at his knee. “Fell off my bike. That lady who just rode off came to argue with my mother this morning and nearly ran me over.”
Raised voices came from inside the tourist agency. Through the plate-glass windows they could see people gesturin
g. The mayor made an exasperated sound and went inside. Xena let herself in the door.
“Not a journalist!” the mayor was saying. Her round face was pale. “And a TV crew?”
Ian’s mother, who sat at a desk at the back of the room, was hanging up the phone. “That’s what they told me. It will be on the news tonight.”
“Wow,” Xena couldn’t help saying, and at that all the adults turned and looked at her.
Ian’s mother shook her head. “This is not the sort of publicity we need.”
The young man came back inside. “We are closed for business right now,” he said, and ushered Xena out the door.
More people had joined the crowd outside, including Trevor, who was passing out flyers as fast as he could. The two college students from the B and B next door to theirs appeared. The one named Katy asked Xena, “What’s going on?” Xena told her what Mr. Whittaker had related to the crowd.
“All that commotion must be why we haven’t been able to catch a glimpse of the kite,” Katy said to Emma.
“I bet you’re right,” Emma answered.
“Were you flying a kite?” Xander asked.
Emma opened her mouth as if to reply, but Katy quickly said, “That’s right. We were, er, flying a kite and the string broke. Come on, Em, we need to go.”
Why would a commotion at the manor keep them from finding their lost kite? wondered Xander.
Before he and Xena had a chance to ask, Trevor came up, grinning. “I’ve given away all my flyers! Lots of the people who came here for the auction aren’t scared by the Beast—they think it’s an extra added attraction. Australia, here I come!”
“Young man!” called a woman from the other side of the street. “When does your next tour leave?”
As Trevor went over to talk to her, Xena pulled Xander around a corner out of the hubbub. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I’m thinking two things,” Xander answered. “One, Mr. Whittaker was pretty convincing. He saw something near the manor. And two, all this publicity is great for Trevor.”
Xena nodded. “Right. Come on, it’s time we put things together.”
Xander pulled a pad and pencil out of his back pocket, and he and Xena sat down together on the grass in front of the library. She rubbed her hands together. “List time!”
Xander handed her the paper and pencil. “I’m going to check out that music store,” he said. “It’s just around the corner. Be right back.”
He returned a few minutes later and flopped onto the ground. Xena could tell he was discouraged. “What?”
Xander dug his fingers into the grass. “A didgeridoo sounds nothing like a howl. It’s kind of low and buzzy. They didn’t have a recording, but the store clerk made the sound. Nobody could think it was a howl.”
“Okay, I won’t put it on the list,” Xena said.
“So what’s it a list of?”
“Suspects.”
“Suspects of what?”
“Well, suppose I’m right and there is no Beast. Why would someone make it up? And who would do it?” She handed the page to Xander.
Suspect Suspicious behavior Motive
Mrs. Roberts Dropped tray when hearing talk of Beast Seems even jumpier than most people in town—why?
Trevor Wants to go out at night, despite danger from Beast. Maybe he knows there isn’t one. Could he be faking it? But why? To make money to go to Australia
Mr. Whittaker Touchy about stable—could Beast be hidden in it? Something from family history?
Everybody at the manor Beast has been sighted near there. ?
Mr. Tuttle (with a helper) ? To sell more books
Burglar Doors and windows locked. Burglar pretends to be Beast to scare people out of investigating. Burglary (duh)
As Xander studied the list, their cell phone rang. This time Xander managed to answer it.
“Hello? … Oh, really? You’re sure? … Well, thanks. And what about—oh.” He reached for the notepad and scribbled something on a fresh page. “Okay. I’ll tell you about it when we get home.” He closed the phone.
“Who was that?” Xena asked.
“Andrew, calling from the SPFD lab in London. He said what we sent him isn’t fur at all. It’s not even human hair—it’s some kind of synthetic.”
Xena frowned. “That means someone must be wearing a costume.”
“The howl is fake too,” Xander told her. “The lab doesn’t know exactly what it is yet. They’re still working on that. It’s more than one sound, and they have to separate them and analyze them one by one. So far they’ve figured out there are at least two …” He consulted his notes. “Two living sources, Andrew said, meaning animals, and at least one mechanical.” Xander felt his fear dissolving. “That means that for sure, the Beast is a person.”
“I knew it all along!” Xena jumped up and pumped her fist in the air.
“You did not.”
“I did,” Xena insisted.
“Oh, all right.” Xander was too relieved to argue anymore. “But who is it? Maybe we can narrow down the suspect list a bit.”
“We can probably eliminate Mrs. Roberts,” Xena suggested. “She really looked scared when we came down into the kitchen after the Beast howled. If she knew it was a fake, then she wouldn’t be frightened.”
“Plus I think she totally believes that stuff about the family curse,” Xander added. He was suddenly enjoying being a detective again.
“True.” Xena crossed Mrs. Roberts off the suspect list. “Okay, so now that we know the Beast is a fake, we need to come up with some possible explanations for the Beast’s appearance.”
Xander eyed Xena’s list of suspects. “Well, Trevor seemed eager to go out at night even though everybody was sure the Beast would attack after dark. But he wasn’t afraid.”
Xena tapped her pencil against the pad. “Does this mean Trevor knew there was nothing dangerous going on, maybe because he was somehow making the fake Beast sightings? Plus he’s earning good money from the Beast’s sudden reappearance—and he said he needed the money to go to Australia.”
“So let’s keep an eye on him,” Xander said. “With him living in the same place we’re staying, that shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Then there’s Mr. Whittaker,” Xena went on. “He wouldn’t let us explore the stable at Blackslope Manor. Ian said he was breeding dogs—maybe they’re really big and ferocious.”
“The Hound of the Baskervilles turned out to be a real dog,” Xander reminded her. “A humongous dog that terrorized everyone.”
“Exactly. Maybe Mr. Whittaker lets his dogs out, or maybe sometimes they escape. People could mistake a big dog for a beast, especially in the dark and if they were scared. Then he would fake the other clues so that people wouldn’t know it was his dogs and make him get rid of them.”
“Why did he report seeing the Beast last night, then?”
“Maybe he was trying to keep people from finding out about his dogs.”
“That would be weird, but possible, I guess,” Xander said. “He did seem awfully protective of the stable.”
They were silent. None of the other suspects made much sense, and neither Xander nor Xena could see where to go next. Then something occurred to Xander. “The sale at the manor is in four days. We’re going back to London right after it.”
“So we have got to find the Beast before we leave,” Xena said. “Otherwise we’ll fail Sherlock.”
“I know.” Xander’s voice was troubled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, it’s great that there’s no real beast out there. But there is a real person pretending to be the Beast and terrifying the whole town. He or she is repeating the pattern from the past. A sheep has already gone missing. Which means Mrs. Roberts is right about one thing: A person could be next!”
CHAPTER 16
The next morning was fresh and cool—a perfect day for the tour of the ruined castle the Holmes family had planned.
The castl
e wasn’t enough to take Xena and Xander’s minds completely off the case, but it helped. There were some walls left standing, so they could tell what the different rooms were with the help of signs posted on the dark gray stones. Exploring it was like climbing around a giant jungle gym. Xena scaled one of the shorter walls using her rock-climbing skills and pretended to pour boiling oil on Xander, who was pretending to be an enemy soldier besieging the castle. They had a good time, but both were itching to get back on the case.
They stopped at a restaurant in the country for supper and got back to the B and B late. As Xander was climbing into bed, Xena appeared at his door carrying two flashlights. “Take one of these. I found them on the end table in the sitting room. Nobody will mind if we borrow them. And keep your shoes next to your bed. We have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”
“What makes you think we’ll be going somewhere tonight?” Xander quickly switched the flashlight on and off again, then put it under his pillow.
“I don’t know,” Xena admitted, “but we have to be ready for anything.”
“All I’m ready for,” Xander mumbled into his pillow, “is sleep.” Xena could be so bossy. He knew she was right, though, and tried to stay awake. But all that climbing in the fresh air had exhausted them, and first Xander and then Xena fell asleep.
But not for long. A howl rose through the night, reaching a pitch so high it sounded like a woman’s scream, and then sinking to a long, low sob that lingered in the air.
Xena and Xander met at the front door of the B and B, each clutching a flashlight.
“Which way did it come from?” Xander asked. His heart was pounding. It’s not really the Beast, he tried to tell himself.
“That way!” Xena gestured with her flashlight and clicked the On button. Finally a chance to get a sighting of the Beast! But no light appeared. “Darn!” she said, and took off running. She wasn’t going to let it get away. “Turn yours on, Xander!” she called behind her.
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