She was about to leap down onto the bookcase when she had another idea. Lifting the panel of wood again, she reached down inside the cupboard, grabbed the bottle of chloroform from its shelf, and shoved it into her pocket. Just in case.
Chapter Eight
Zerynthia polyxena
Uncle Dermott’s prize butterfly hung in its special case on the wall, and Kate stood in front of it feeling strangely nervous. In all her years living in this house, she had never, ever been allowed to touch it, not even just the edge of the case. It was the one thing in the house that she never had to clean.
The butterfly itself didn’t look all that different from a lot of the others that Uncle Dermott had pinned to his walls. Its wings were patterned in black and cream and spotted with a few simple red and yellow dots along the bottom. It was, Kate thought, far too elegant a creature to have been gassed to death and pinned into a case. Still, there was nothing she could do about that now, except discover any clues it might hide about her family and fortune.
Very, very carefully, Kate reached up and lifted the small display case off the wall. It was made of solid wood and thick glass, and was surprisingly heavy.
She carried it across to Uncle Dermott’s desk and set it down, then had a thought and dashed across to the door of the study. Upstairs, the noise of floorboards being torn up showed no sign of slowing, but just to be safe Kate locked the study door from the inside. That at least would give her a couple of minutes to think if Uncle Dermott or Aunt Tina came down unexpectedly.
Being careful not to flip the case over, Kate held it up and turned it around, examining it from every angle. It was cleverly designed, with the butterfly pinned to a felt mat inside a little drawer that slid in and out through a slot in the top of the case. She gently eased the drawer out and placed the Zerynthia polyxena carefully onto the desk.
Now she could examine the display case properly. She peered in through the slot, turned it over and checked the back then the front. She poked and prodded, but there was nothing. No secret drawers, no notes, nothing.
A bit disheartened, Kate turned her attention to the drawer with the butterfly in it. Now she had to be much more careful, because after so many years the tiny body was even more fragile and delicate, even with all the preservative that had been sprayed on it.
Carefully she turned the drawer around and studied it closely. Still nothing. Kate slumped back into Uncle Dermott’s study chair, disappointed. She had been certain she’d find something here. Still, what did that song tell her? Nothing is quite what it seems. She hummed the tune to herself a couple of times, but it was hopeless. There was no point wasting any more time; she should escape while she still had a chance. Uncle Dermott had been working all night and he’d surely stop for breakfast before very much longer. Kate wanted to be a long way away when that happened.
She was just about to ease the Zerynthia polyxena back into the display case when she noticed something strange. On the bottom of one of the hind wings, just in the tiniest corner, the butterfly had a strange white smudge.
Picking up Uncle Dermott’s magnifying glass, Kate peered closely at the smudge. It was curious; it looked as though the butterfly’s natural colour had drained out of it in this one small section, right in the middle of a patch of black.
Very carefully and slowly, Kate ran the tip of her little finger across the white smudge. The wing felt dry and slightly furry, and also very delicate. It might have been her imagination, but the white smudge seemed to spread slightly under her touch.
“How odd,” she said to herself. There was something strange about the Zerynthia, but she couldn’t for the life of her work out what. Apart from this new mystery, there was nothing more to learn here, so Kate slid the drawer back into the display case and hung the whole thing back on the wall. She had just unlocked the door to the study when she realised something terrifying.
The noise from upstairs had stopped.
Kate had been so intrigued by the strange white spot on the Zerynthia polyxena that she’d forgotten to listen for Uncle Dermott’s crashing and bashing. And sometime in the last two minutes he’d stopped tearing up the floor. And by now he could be anywhere in the house; he might even be right outside the study door, on his way to check on her, or …
Uncle Dermott’s footsteps creaked on the attic stairs at the end of the hall outside.
Quick as a flash, Kate whizzed back across the room and up onto the bookcase. There was no time to escape the house now; Uncle Dermott would see and catch her for sure. If he didn’t know about her getting out of the cupboard, though, he might leave her in there, and she could have another try at escaping later.
As fast as she dared, Kate clambered back to the top of the old wardrobe, pulled up her escape hatch, and dropped down inside, into the darkness. Then she reached up and pulled the panel of plywood back into place above her. Just as it clunked into position, Uncle Dermott slammed the study door open, crossed the room and banged loudly on the side of the cupboard.
“Wake up, you lazy little worm! Wake up!”
He kept talking while he fiddled with his keys, finding the right one to open the wardrobe.
“Your aunt and I have been working all night, while you’ve no doubt been fast asleep dreaming. Well, you can at least make us some breakfast. Your aunt is dying for a deep-fried Mars Bar and I need some scrambled eggs.”
He flung the cupboard door wide open and daylight flooded in. The first thing he saw was what Kate had done to his butterfly equipment.
“My nets! What have you done to my nets?”
In the light, Kate could see that she had made a bit of a mess. One net, of course, still had the top unscrewed from the handle, and several of the others had been quite badly bent out of shape when she’d shoved them aside to make her sleeping nest.
“You pernicious little porcupine! You repulsive ruffian! You’ve ruined them all! Get out!”
He grabbed Kate’s ear and pulled her out of the cupboard.
“You’ll be sorry for that, young lady. Mark my words!”
“I didn’t mean to, Uncle Dermott.”
“Hah!” he snorted, and dragged her towards the study door, still by her ear. “That’s a likely story. Now …” he let her go with a rough shove. “You’re going to walk in front of me all the way down to the kitchen, and if you so much as try to escape I’ll have you back in that cupboard lickety split, and what’s more I’ll tie you up.”
If she was tied up, then she’d be stuck in the cupboard for good, so Kate obediently led the way down the stairs to the kitchen, where Aunt Tina was waiting.
For the first time in her life, Kate almost felt sorry for Aunt Tina. She looked like she’d been in a train crash. Splinters of wood and floorboards were stuck in her hair, her face and arms were covered with plaster dust, and there was a cockroach crawling across her shoulder that she hadn’t even noticed. Her pink dressing gown, which she’d been wearing since their meeting with Miss Pincushion the previous morning, was ripped and tattered. It was hard to be sure, but Kate wondered if perhaps she looked just a tiny bit thinner than she had the previous morning. Perhaps all of this work and not eating was doing her good.
“Can we eat now, Dermott? Please?” There were tears in Aunt Tina’s eyes.
“In a minute. I’ve something I want to discuss first. Sit down, girl.” Uncle Dermott shoved Kate towards an old wooden chair that stood in the corner, where she perched obligingly.
“Now, it occurs to me that for the last eight years you have been cleaning this house every single day, from top to bottom. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, in all that time you must have noticed something strange, something out of place.”
Kate looked thoughtful for a moment. Another plan was hatching in her head.
“What do you mean, Uncle Dermott?”
“Your aunt and I are searching for something that is hidden in this house, as you well know, and if you have seen it, or something th
at will help us find it, then it will save us all a lot of bother. Of course, if you don’t want to assist us, then I might just have to find a way to make you help.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen anything.”
“Think carefully, girl.” He leaned in close and whispered, “If you can help, I might even be able to keep you out of the grasp of Miss Pincushion.”
“Well …” Kate began.
“Yes?” Her uncle and aunt leaned forward in their chairs.
“The other day, when I was down in the basement, scrubbing the laundry tiles with my toothbrush …”
“Yes …”
“I thought I noticed something strange in the tiles. It looked sort of like a hatchway down under the house, but I couldn’t open it.”
“Where? Where, girl?”
“It was really hard to make out, but it looked like the edges were right under the washing machine.”
“Aha! That has to be it. Come on, then.” He grabbed Kate’s ear again and pulled her back towards the kitchen door. “Tina, get down to the basement and start moving the washing machine, while I put this little troublemaker back in the cupboard.”
“But Dermott, we haven’t …”
“NOW, Tina!”
Aunt Tina burst into tears as Kate was dragged back up the stairs, into the study, and over to the wardrobe.
“In you get.”
“But what about keeping me out of Miss Pincushion’s grasp?”
“First we have to find what we’re looking for. And besides,” Uncle Dermott added with an evil leer, “after what you did to my nets, I’m not through with you myself yet.”
He shoved her into the cupboard, then closed and locked the door.
Inside, Kate sat in the dark smiling to herself, imagining Uncle Dermott and Aunt Tina trying to hammer through the tiles into the concrete foundations of the house. Even moving the washing machine, an old heavy iron one, would take them ages.
Once she was certain that Uncle Dermott had gone, she quickly climbed up the shelves, pushed the plywood panel aside, and slipped out onto the top of the wardrobe. From there it was only a couple of seconds until she was back down on the floor. Tiptoeing across to the study door, she opened it carefully and listened. The only sounds were some muffled thumps and swearing from the basement, two floors below. All she had to do now was to creep out and find help. It was a pity, of course, that she hadn’t managed to find any real clues as to her own family, but there’d be time for that later.
She was halfway down the stairs when she realised something – Uncle Dermott and Aunt Tina would be busy for hours, so this was possibly the only opportunity she would ever have to look for clues in Uncle Dermott’s study. There were all sorts of papers and books in there, and Miss Pincushion had spoken about a deal being made, hadn’t she? Well if there had been a deal, there might be proof of it, and the most likely place to find that would be in the study.
Sighing, she crept back up the stairs and locked the study door behind her.
Chapter Nine
The Secret Drawer
Uncle Dermott kept his desk neat and tidy. Nothing at all was out of place: there were pens in special pen holders in the first drawer, staples and stapler neatly in the second drawer, writing paper and files in the filing cabinet in the third drawer. Kate flipped through the papers quickly, but there was nothing even slightly interesting there, only lots of papers about butterflies and taxation.
Surely there had to be a clue somewhere in here. Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled under the desk to see if anything was sticky-taped to the bottom. Nothing, but as she was crawling out again, something odd caught her eye.
The desk was made of solid wood, old, dark mahogany, with a leather top. Just underneath the top, right above where Uncle Dermott’s knees would normally be, was a small brass button built into the bottom of the desk.
“I wonder what that could be?” said Kate, and pressed it.
There was a soft “click” but nothing happened. Puzzled, Kate crawled out from under the desk and the first thing she noticed was a secret drawer that had slid out a little way from the side of the desk.
“How clever!”
With trembling hands, Kate slipped the drawer fully open and peered inside. The drawer was empty apart from a cheap folder, the type you buy in newsagents for presenting assignments or holding recipes, or that sort of thing. It had a blue cover and the pages were all clear plastic sleeves into which you could slip bits of paper.
The first couple of sleeves were empty, but inside the third was an old clipping, cut from a newspaper, faded yellow with age. The date on the top of the paper was eight years ago. “PINCUSHION BABY MYSTERIOUSLY VANISHES! POLICE PERPLEXED!” read the headline. Under this was a black-and-white picture of an empty cot, and next to it a young man and a young woman looking miserable. The woman had long brown hair, and even though she was so sad she was still beautiful. Barely daring to breathe, Kate read the rest of the article.
The heir to the missing Pincushion family fortune was today kidnapped while being minded by her aunt, Lady Agnes Pincushion. The police are baffled by the disappearance, which happened sometime during the night, but say they will investigate every avenue in order to find the missing child. The baby, Katherine Pincushion, would have inherited the family fortune, made many years ago by her grandfather, Lord Edgar Pincushion, and his sister, Lady Penelope.
The parents of baby Katherine were too upset to comment yesterday, but Lady Agnes Pincushion appealed to whomever had taken the baby to bring her back. "She is just a little child," Lady Pincushion commented, "and we would ask whomever is responsible to show a little compassion."
No ransom note has been received, and all family members have solid alibis, leaving police without a single clue as to the reasons for this mysterious crime.
Kate read the article three times. It was her! It had to be. After everything she’d overheard in the cupboard the other day there was no other explanation. She turned the page, and found yet another faded news clipping, dated two years earlier than the first one.
FORTUNE VANISHES!
Relatives of the late Lady Penelope Pincushion were shocked yesterday to find no papers relating to her fortune anywhere in her home. It was believed that Lady Penelope, who died late last week, had, together with her brother, the late Lord Edgar Pincushion, amassed a sizable fortune which, under the terms of her will, was to go to her youngest living relative.
In a bizarre twist, however, Lady Penelope appears to have hidden the fortune, and amended her will so that the wealth will pass to whoever is her youngest living relative not at the time of her death, but at the time the fortune is discovered.
The origins of the Pincushion fortune have long been a mystery. Both Lord Edgar and Lady Penelope were noted explorers during their younger years, and are believed to have contributed equally to the family's wealth. Lord Edgar was particularly famous for his magnificent collection of exotic butterflies and his talent for finding the rarest creatures in Africa, Asia and Europe. It is believed that he made his share of the fortune by selling rare butterflies to very rich collectors around the world. Nobody has ever been able to discover just how he was able to find so many rare species so easily.
Lady Penelope's share of the fortune is equally mysterious. It is said to consist largely of gold nuggets, presumably found during her travels. As with Lord Edgar, however, nobody has any idea exactly where or how she was able to acquire so much wealth.
For the last ten years, since the death of Lord Pincushion, Lady Penelope has lived as a recluse in her small two-storey country house, spending little and seeing only her family. The entire fortune was to pass to her youngest living relative, but upon searching the house her family were shocked to discover no trace of either Lord or Lady Pincushion's wealth. Police have been called in and are investigating. The house, which is all that can be found of the estate, will pass to her niece, Miss Agnes Pincushion.
So that was it! M
iss Agnes Pincushion was supposed to inherit the hidden family fortune from Lady Penelope, but it had never been found. Instead of searching for it herself, Miss Pincushion had given the old lady’s house to her father’s butler and cook, Dermott and Tina, and in exchange they were expected to search for the stacks of money and gold nuggets which she assumed were hidden somewhere in the house. But the old lady had fixed her will so that when Kate had been born, everything changed for her Aunt, Miss Pincushion – she was no longer the youngest living relative; if the fortune turned up, she would miss out on it anyway That was why Aunt Agnes had organised Kate’s kidnapping, and had let Dermott and Tina use her as a servant.
Kate sat back in Uncle Dermott’s chair, shocked by her discovery. From down below she could still hear the thumps and thuds as her “aunt” and “uncle” bashed away at the tiles and concrete.
There was a lot more to the puzzle though: where had the fortune come from in the first place? And even more importantly, what about her parents? Were they still alive? Apart from the photograph in the first article, there was no mention of them anywhere. If they were still out there somewhere, then it shouldn’t be too hard for Kate to find them.
“What should I do?” she said aloud. She needed answers. First, however, she needed to find the vanished Pincushion fortune, and she thought she knew just where to look.
There was nothing else in the folder besides the two faded newspaper articles. As she replaced it in the secret drawer, she noticed a piece of paper that she hadn’t seen before.
The paper was thick and creamy and crackled as Kate unfolded it. In the middle of the page were words written in faded black handwriting, spidery loops and lines that were difficult to make out. Gradually, though, Kate managed to read:
The Girl In the Cave Page 5