Mystery of Merlin and the Gruesome Ghost (Humpty Dumpty Jr., Hardboiled Detective)
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Excalibur glowed. Shining a clean, clear gold.
I heard Lily gasp. “Amazing!”
Merlin exclaimed, “Gadzooks! The Sword awakens.” The Sword brightened, sparkled.
“It’s the king,” Merlin continued. “Here in this room! The Sword is shining to welcome the Once and Future King.”
Merlin’s gaze shifted from the Sword to Rat.
“It’s you.”
Merlin grabbed Rat’s collar.
“Try it, boy. Try to draw the Sword.”
Merlin pushed Rat forward.
Rat struggled. “What the—?”
Lily said excitedly, “Oh Rat, you might be the new King Arthur!”
“What are you talking about?”
Merlin shrieked, “One thousand years ago, a young boy drew this same Sword from the stone. He was the rightful king! Arthur. It is foretold! He shall return!”
Owl-eyed, Merlin inspected Rat. “Tell me, boy. Just who are you?”
“I’m Rat!”
I stepped in. “We don’t really know who he is.”
The lights in Merlin’s eyes jumped 2000 Volts.
Merlin barked: “How old are you, lad?”
Rat said, “Go figure.”
I volunteered, “We guess he’s around ten.”
Merlin crowed, “Of course! Right when the Sword appeared! The Sword announced your birth!”
Merlin waved his hand dramatically toward Excalibur. “Draw the Sword, lad. It calls you.”
Merlin loomed over Rat, a madman’s glimmer lighting his face.
Rat tentatively touched the Sword.
Nothing happened.
He pulled on the hilt.
Nothing happened.
“But...” Merlin stuttered, “...try harder, boy!”
Rat tried again.
No deal.
“I knew I wasn’t some old king,” Rat muttered.
Merlin, frustrated, fluttered the tail of his ragged beard. His face lit up again.
“Of course!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. “The lad is nowhere near ready!
“Certainly, the boy will be enrolled!” Merlin announced. “He shall be tutored here, by me! In days of yore, it was only after my training that Arthur pulled Excalibur free!”
Rat said, “So, what am I king of?”
“Possibly the world,” said Merlin. “The power of the Sword is unfathomable—there’s never been a weapon like it.”
My shell sorta tingled at the way Merlin purred ‘weapon.’
Princess Lily meekly asked, “Sir, may I try the Sword?”
Merlin looked impatiently at the girl. He scolded, “Certainly NOT! You’re the janitor’s daughter!”
He closed the curtains, hiding the Sword.
Merlin turned to Rat again, saying, “We shall discover without question just who you are.”
I said, “So, Merlin, about your ghost? Do yourself a favor. Lemme look into it.”
“No, no, no. There is no ghost,” he sputtered. “I regret to insist...though you are somehow attached to this important person...”
Merlin glared, “...If you are not out of here, very shortly...I shall have you dragged out.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m rolling.”
The old wizard kindly patted Rat and said, “You shall begin classes immediately. You’ll move into the dormitory today.”
“Well, kid,” I said to Rat as we left Merlin’s office, “if the cards you’re holding win you a spiky hat and a ritzy kingdom, then I’m happy for ya.”
I said, “But no way am I gonna let that dust-bag Merlin keep me outta here. Lily’s our client, not him.”
I looked around for the princess, and found her standing, trancelike, before Merlin’s closed door.
I heard her mutter dreamily, “Excalibur...”
She turned to Rat. “You’re so lucky, Rat.”
“Hey,” he said. “Call me ‘King Rat.’”
Chapter 5
Nurse Punnymany
We went to the infirmary to see if Lily’s dad was feeling better.
“A janitor, huh?” Rat said. “So, you must be ‘Princess Plunger.’”
Lily blushed.
I said, “Nothin’ wrong being a janitor. And, you’re forgetting—this janitor had the guts to stand alone against a gruesome ghost!”
Lily led us up more stone steps, worn and smooth like dark slabs of polished butter.
We passed through more rooms and hallways, ancient, musty, and damp.
She parted a heavy curtain, and we entered a large area, lined with cots.
Lily whispered, “Here’s Poppa.”
We followed her over to the nearest bed.
The man lying there would have been handsome, had his face not been as pale and wooden as white oak.
Prince Balto had fine cheekbones and a sharp jawline; but, overall, his face was gentle.
A sharp whisper broke the silence, and the three of us jumped. “Lily, child, ’oo is this crowd?”
I wouldn’t call just Rat and me a crowd.
We turned and stood face-to-face with a tall, furry rabbit in a nurse’s outfit.
“Nurse Punnymany,” Lily said, “we came to visit my poppa.”
“Well,” Nurse Punnymany whispered, “won’t ’arm your father none, Ducky.”
I offered my hand to the rabbit nurse. She shook it with gusto and said, “Why would you want to come to this place, what’s ’aunted and all?”
“Tell me what haunts it,” I said.
“Well,” the rabbit said, “I’m certain I dunno. And cursed if Old Windbag ’as nary a peck of a pickled notion.”
“You mean Merlin?” I asked.
“’Oo else? All of them what was attacked say Merlin was nowhere to be seen, nor come to help, scream as they might. And then ’e told ’em it must’a been sump’n they ate what made ’em ill and seein’ things.
“This one ’ere is the first victim,” Nurse Punnymany stated, placing her paw at the foot of a cot next to Balto’s.
“’E come in, just as you see ’im. Still an’ cold as Death. Dugal Farthing. Fine boy. Royalty, ’e is.”
I asked, “ Where are his parents?”
“Ah,” the nurse sighed, “’alf a world away, at ’ome in Ireland. And, don’tcher know, his magical Nibs ’imself, Merlin, just wrote ’em a simple faerie-gram wot sez, ‘Yer poor lad fell ill with the stomach flu, not to worry.’”
Nurse Punnymany patted Dugal’s foot. “Poor lad. Don’tcher know ’e’s mightily strong with the magic, ’e is. It don’t surprise me if ’e didn’t put up a mighty fight when ’e saw that ghosty.”
“How do you know there’s a ghost?”
“Cor,” Punnymany exclaimed, “don’tcher know all o’ the poor childings ’oo come in ’ere, all wobbled and shooken, each one moaning about the ghosty? None of ’em was as sick as these two, and were fit the follerin’ day. But, sure, nothing but a real ghosty coulda put them each in such a fright.”
Suddenly, Dugal’s body bolted upright. His eyes were closed. He screamed, “No!”
Then Dugal roared, “Leave my magic alone!” and fell PLOP on his back, still as rock.
Nurse Punnymany rushed to Dugal’s side.
I asked Lily, “He was talking to the ghost, wasn’t he?”
The princess nodded. “That’s what they say the ghost moans—‘Where’s My Magic?’” Lily laid her face against her father’s chest and sobbed, “Oh, Poppa.”
I was mad. ‘No ghost’, my butt! Oh, we’re coming in, and we’re grabbing this ghost!
A thousand Merlins couldn’t keep me away.
Chapter 6
Morphing Madness
I told Lily we’d be back soon. We left her sitting miserably, holding her dad’s limp hand.
Rat and I headed back to my office.
“I’ve got to figure a way to case that joint,” I said.
Rat said, “So, go in disguise!”
“Great eggheads think alike.”
Rat asked, “Why don’t you go as a new student? Then I won’t have to. I can’t even read, and I’m supposed to study with that cruddy smelly cheese, Merlin?”
“Don’t worry, kid,” I said. “You’ll do fine. We both gotta be there to find clues. Partners, remember?
“Besides, Merlin may be cheesy, but he’s also a great wizard. If he thinks you’re the king, then you might be. You better just play along.”
I wasn’t looking forward to telling Patty Cake that Rat couldn’t live with her anymore (because he might just be some long lost King of the World).
I said, “We’ll swing by Patty’s and pack up your gear to move into the dorm.”
At the office, I went to my Cupboard of Disguises and rummaged. “Hmmm...you know what the Merlin Institute needs?” I said. “A new janitor.”
“Yeah!” Rat said.
“Not sure I have a Janitor costume...I wonder if I can fake it?”
“Let me do it.”
“Choose my disguise?”
“Change you, with magic. If you’re gonna fool Merlin, you need a great disguise!”
“Well, you got me there, kid. And when an egg’s beaten, it stays beaten.”
“Cool,” Rat said. “So, cough it up.”
“Nothing fancy,” I said, handing him the wand. “Just standard janitor.”
“And a mustache,” Rat said.
“A mustache?”
“Yeah, a big, floppy mustache.”
I stood still, waiting for disaster to strike.
It did.
“Sha-Boom!”
POOF!
I was a toilet!
With a mustache!
“Oops. Heh heh,” Rat snickered. “Sorry!”
“Sha-Boom!”
POOF!
Then I was myself again...except my eyes (and my mustache) were on the back of my head!
“Oops,” Rat said. “Oops.”
“Sha-Boom!”
POOF!
I was the Statue of Liberty! With a mustache!
I muttered, “You keep getting the mustache right, kid.”
“I can do this,” Rat growled.
POOF!
I was myself again.
With a big, bushy mustache.
“That’s enough!” I grabbed the wand. I went back to my Cupboard of Disguises. “See, maybe studying with Merlin won’t be so bad. You’re a natural with the wand, kid, but you got plenty to learn.”
I pulled out some old overalls I’d worn working undercover at Old MacDonald’s Fairy Dairy.
They’d have to do.
Rat giggled, trying to muffle the sound.
“How do I look?” I asked, turning to Rat.
“You look good in a mustache.”
Chapter 7
Of Swords and Snotswarths
Rat and I entered the school with no guff from the guards this time.
Merlin appeared before us, and placed his arm around Rat. “I have just the class for you.”
Then Merlin saw me.
“Who are you? Haven’t we met?” he asked suspiciously.
I ducked my head, mumbled some double-talk, “substitute janitor,” “last minute.”
Merlin grabbed my mustache and yanked it.
“YOW!”
“Hmmm,” Merlin hummed, then curtly commanded, “Get to work!”
Merlin strode off, Rat in tow, saying, “Lad, are you prepared to claim your Destiny?”
Rat mumbled, “Whatever.”
I quickly slipped up the stairs to the infirmary to check on Lily.
Nurse Punnymany gently told the princess, “Don’t fret, chicky. I’ll tend yer poor Da. Go on about yer day. It’s what yer Da would want, don’tcher know.”
We left, and I filled Lily in on the new plan.
As she led me down to the janitor’s closet, I asked her how I looked.
She took my disguise in, head to toe, and said, sweetly, “Er, you look good in a mustache.”
I grabbed a mop and bucket out of the closet, then escorted Lily to her next class: sword-fighting.
Lily said, “But I can’t sword-fight!”
I said, “Well, that’s why they have classes, to teach you.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like sword-fighting.”
As we entered the classroom, we saw that Rat was there, too.
Merlin introduced him to the teacher just as we arrived. The kids put on their dueling gear, swinging their practice swords wildly.
I sized up the sword-fight instructor.
He was one of Merlin’s armored tanks.
The instructor barked, “Teams,” in a metallic voice like the other guards’, but more like gargling underwater.
Suddenly, a kid at the back of the class cried out: “I think I’m gonna—”
He heaved all over the wall, spouting like a whale. “Oooooh,” he moaned, frowning at the mess. “I don’t remember eating that!”
The other princes exploded in laughter.
“Well?” Merlin’s sharp voice snapped at my ear. “Clean that up!”
Uh, right. I’m the janitor.
Merlin strode from the room.
Holding my breath as much as I could, I went to work cleaning up the kid’s whale-spew.
Gross.
As I worked, I heard the instructor shouting, “Position One, youse brats. Points up, points up!”
He clanked around the room.
Something about that voice, echoing and booming as it was, also rang familiar.
A strong accent from the Bonx across the river.
I decided I’d have to try to decode these voices.
I sneaked my electronic notebook out of my pocket and set it to ‘RECORD’.
“Dat’s right!” he said. “De udder way,” he instructed.
“You,” he said, pointing at Lily, “and you,” pointing at a snobby-looking prince.
The prince looked at least six years older than little Lily.
He also looked pretty handy with a sword.
Lily’s opponent snapped his weapon up and announced: “Prince Cyril Snotswarth.”
“Princess L-Lily,” Lily said and saluted the same way.
“Mix it up,” the instructor hollered.
The prince danced to and fro, back and forth and around Lily. He smacked her with his practice sword and laughed.
Lily wildly swung her enormous blade; it swerved like a drunken flyswatter in a tornado.
Prince Snotswarth taunted, “You shouldn’t even be here.” BONK! “You should be cleaning for a house of dwarfs.” SMACK! “Or locked in a tower, helpless, waiting for someone to rescue you.” SWAT!
I was getting steamed. I thought about dunking the prince’s head in barf when Rat suddenly jumped into the fray.
“Hey, Snot-blower,” Rat said.
The prince snarled and swung his sword.
Rat dodged the blow, threw his huge sword at Snotswarth’s head, and tackled the Prince.
Rat grabbed Cyril’s leg and chomped down!
Snotswarth, for the record, screeched like a bucket full of alley cats.
The sword instructor guffawed behind his armored helm.
Who were these tin-plated clowns? They were as fishy as canned tuna!
What was really going on here at Merlin’s Institute?
I’m tellin’ ya—Humpty the janitor was gonna clean up this entire mess. A sure bet.
Call your bookie.
Chapter 8
The Gruesome Ghost
Lily fell asleep in the infirmary during dinner.
It had been a long, grueling day for the poor kid.
I tucked her into a cot near her dad then turned to Rat. “You ready for our first ghost-watch?”
“Better give me the wand, Round Man,” he suggested.
“Right.” I handed the magic to the magic-user.
We searched hallways and stairwells and behind tapestries for hours.
Then, a CLUNK down a dorm hallway.
“Duc
k,” I whispered.
Rounding the corner were an armored goon and Prince Snotswarth. I pulled out my notebook to record the guard if he spoke.
They stopped at Cyril’s door, and I heard the guard grunt in a mechanical drone, “Dat’s right, youse don’t wanna go anywheres. Nobody leaves. Da boss says it’s risky. And da boss knows trouble. Savvy?”
Cyril meekly closed his door, and the guard clanked off.
“Dude,” Rat whispered.
“Right. Smells fishy.”
I made a note of that.
We continued our ghost-watch.
Then, finally, checking out a classroom on the 5th floor, we heard it.
First, a faint moaning, echoing down the halls.
Then, louder. Closer. Closer.
We quietly moved to the classroom door.
Then, down the hall, we saw a steadily glowing green light. Brighter. Brighter.
I looked at Rat. “Ready?”
Rat nodded. We both leapt into the hall.
There, looming over us, his armor glowing brightly ghoulish, was The Ghost.
Demonic red eyes blazed from his visor.
His horned helmet was a huge skull surrounded by crackling flame.
The ghost waved a thrumming, sparking thing in his hand. Kinda like a large flashlight.
My shell tingled all over.
Rat yelled, “Sha-Boom!”
Rat’s magic passed right through the ghost, crackling into a thousand fireworks against the far wall.
I groaned, “Magic’s a no-go.”
The ghost raised his arms and plodded closer on silent feet.
It roared, “Draw the Sword! The Sword!”
Then it turned and walked through the wall.
Chapter 9
Lord Feathergrimm
“There’s got to be a way to get more info on this ghost,” I said.
The next morning we stood in Lily and her father’s basement apartment. I’d slept in Prince Balto’s room, Rat in his dormitory.
Lily called from inside her bedroom, where she was dressing, “I think I know someone who can help.”
We’d just finished breakfast, and Lily wanted a bath and a change of clothes.
I took in the tiny place, clean and tidy, but poorly furnished with unmatched wooden chairs and a mangy sofa.