by Georgia Byng
“Seen them before,” she said. “I saw a version that were like normal glasses with white swirls, not so dark as those ones. They work.”
“Yes, and when the guards put them on, they look simply like dark glasses,” said Miss Hunroe. “So when anyone suspicious approaches, they wear the glasses.”
“If you don’t mind me adding, Miss Hunroe,” Miss Teriyaki said, “we also think that Black has given the guards voice-scrambling devices to put in their ears. Because we think that if Black has worked out how to counteract hypnotic eye glare, it’s highly likely he will also have thought of voice hypnosis and how to block that.”
“Yes, correct, Miss Teriyaki,” Miss Hunroe said, visibly irritated by Miss Teriyaki’s interruption.
“So how,” demanded Micky, “can we be of any help?”
“I expect,” said Molly, “it’s got something to do with the daughter.”
“Yas, you are right!” cried Miss Oakkton, slapping her knees.
“Yes,” Miss Hunroe agreed. “You see, the thing is this. The only people who the guards ever interact with normally are the children who are Lily’s school friends. They never put on their anti-hypnotism glasses when Lily’s friends come around for a playdate.”
“Of course,” Miss Suzette explained, “we could have hypnotized one of dese children to go in to fetch de book, but we felt that to use an innocent child would be unfair….”
“Yes, most unfair,” Miss Oakkton agreed. “Poor leetle things.”
“Our great hope,” Miss Teriyaki interjected, “is that you two could go to the casino with the excuse that you have to see Lily, your school friend.”
Miss Hunroe unfolded a sheet of paper with an architectural diagram of the casino on it.
“Once inside the building,” Miss Hunroe said, “you could access the private parts of the premises. With this map, you can see the vents and conduits that carry the pipes and cables from room to room, and you can access Theobald Black’s office. You could use your special crystals and freeze time and get the office keys.”
“I haven’t got my crystals,” Molly replied.
“But aren’t you wearing your crystals now?” Miss Hunroe asked, eyeing her neck. “You have some sort of pendant on.” Molly pulled out the chain with the black pug, the silver elephant, and the two blackbirds on it.
“Oh, no. These are just our pets.”
Gasps of disbelief and disappointment erupted from the ladies opposite.
“That’s a pity,” declared Miss Teriyaki. “We ought to fetch the crystals.”
“No time!” squeaked Miss Speal. “Oh, lord. We’re already risking it. What on earth are we going to do?” She began wringing her little hands as though she was trying to squeeze water out of wet socks. “Maybe your parents could send them up on a motorcyc—”
“NO!” interrupted Miss Suzette. “They might ban Molly and Micky from helping us.”
“Even though it’s for the bigger cause?” asked Miss Teriyaki.
“They wouldn’t be happy about letting us help,” said Micky. “They think Molly needs a bit of time being normal.”
“Which is why they advertised for a tutor,” added Miss Hunroe. Then she pursed her lips. “Oh, dear. Molly, Micky—I’m really not comfortable about this anymore. If your parents wouldn’t approve, then I don’t feel we should go against their wishes.”
Molly considered the assembled assortment of women. She could see why they were worried. The idea of a maniac learning how to morph into another person was scary.
“How do you know he’s not a morpher already?” Molly quizzed.
“We don’t.” Miss Hunroe flipped her coin as though the coin’s action of turning like a tossed pancake in the air was a comfort to her. “We know the book came into his possession a month ago. Since he’s only had it for a short time, the chances are he can’t morph ye—”
“How—” Micky asked.
Miss Hunroe cut him short. “An anonymous person called us.”
Molly studied the ladies in front of her. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “how come you lot know each other? How come you are involved in all of this?”
“Well,” Miss Hunroe explained, her lips pausing for a second to blossom into a brief rose shape before moving to talk again, “as I said, there is a society of ordinary hypnotists. We met there. We were invited to join a group of elite hypnotists—though it has to be said we are all merely hypnotists, not time travelers or time stoppers. We vowed to use our powers to help people in the world. We try to sort out any foul play.”
“We want to catch the dodgers before they dart,” whined Miss Speal.
“Grab ze codgers before zay grunt,” finished Miss Oakkton.
“We are like Wonder Woman, I suppose,” explained Miss Teriyaki, smiling. “We root out crooks like Mr. Black. It is such a pity you haven’t your time-stopping crystals. What’s more, there is not time to get them.” She turned to Miss Hunroe as though the situation had moved on and Molly was now irrelevant. “I will go in, Miss Hunroe.”
“But surely Molly can still go in wisout her time-stopping skills,” Miss Suzette commented.
Miss Teriyaki gasped. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Listen,” Molly interrupted. “Micky and I really don’t need time crystals for this. It’s a cinch. This job can easily be done without them.” Next to her, she could sense Micky’s eyes widening. But her appetite had been whetted. Just the day before, she had been yearning for a bit of adventure again. This little trip into Black’s Casino to retrieve the book looked like it might at least give her a taste of what she’d been craving.
“Besides, I’m very interested to get a look at that book. We could take it down to Briersville Park and keep it in the library there. After all, that’s where it belongs.”
Micky shrugged. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Zat’s de spirit!” Miss Suzette exclaimed, twiddling her silver cane enthusiastically. “Just ze idea I’d had for ze book myself!”
“Vunderful!” Miss Oakkton echoed, thwacking the coffee table with her white gloves.
Miss Hunroe clapped her hands.
“Absolutely not!” she decided vehemently. “I’m sorry, Molly and Micky, but I’ve acted like a fool, and completely improperly. You’ve said your parents wouldn’t want you to get involved with this risky business, and we cannot ignore that.”
“But Miss Hunroe,” Miss Teriyaki interrupted, “Molly herself thinks that she and her brother can retrieve the book easily. Maybe this is our only chance.”
“Miss Hunroe, it is madness not to accept ze children’s help.”
“No, Miss Oakkton, I’ve been influenced by you enough. These children cannot be involved without their parents’ consent.”
“Listen,” Molly interrupted. “We want to help. And our parents have only just become our parents. Micky only met them recently. I haven’t known them that much longer. We’ve lived our lives for a long time without them. So we aren’t like normal kids. Maybe Micky hasn’t made his mind up about it yet,” she added, smiling, “but I have.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Miss Hunroe said, her decision hovering. She pulled out her gold coin again and turned it over and over in her fingers.
“I think zay must help,” Miss Suzette advised. “Zese children, Miss Hunroe, are not ordinary children. Molly has special abilities, and Micky ez probably gifted, too. After all, zay are twins. With Molly’s gift come special responsibilities. Zis is a critical problem that needs specific solutions. No one can help as Molly can. What is more, if we don’t get Molly’s help, the whole world may suffer the consequences.”
Miss Hunroe’s coin flipped through the air and landed in the palm of her hand. She smacked it onto the back of her left hand.
“Heads you win,” she said.
A hundred and eighty miles away, Petula woke up from a midday sleep. She’d had a nightmare of Molly leaving her all alone in Briersville Park, which was silly, she knew, because apar
t from Molly and Micky, everyone else—Rocky, Ojas, and the adults—were all there. She shook her head, and her ears and her lips flapped and the sparkling nametag on her collar rattled. But it was odd, she thought, that her sleep had been so undisturbed.
Petula had been out the night before, down on the neighboring farm where her friends the sheepdogs lived. She’d stayed with them until well past midnight. Then she’d trotted home under a starlit sky, barked at the local fox, who she could smell was in the llama field, and she’d gotten back in late. Now she would go and visit everyone and see how they were. It was peculiar, as normally at this time of day she’d hear the butler, Todson, laying tables for lunch. But all was quiet.
So off she trotted from her basket in the pantry, along the corridor to her basket in the hall. There she picked up a small pebble in her mouth and, chewing and sucking it, made her way up the wide hall stairs to the first landing that led to the house’s master bedrooms. Portraits of Molly and Micky’s ancestors looked curiously down, their eyes seemingly fixed on her.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Petula barked at them.
On the second floor, the hundreds of clocks that lined the second floor passage ticked like clockwork crickets. Petula nudged open Primo Cell and Lucy Logan’s bedroom door.
The room was dark, as the curtains were closed. Both Lucy and Primo were sitting in bed. They were leaning back on cushions, staring upward. For a moment Petula thought that perhaps they had bought a very modern new television screen that was set in the ceiling. But as she trotted into the room, she could see that there was nothing on the ceiling. What was more, neither said hello to Petula. She dropped her stone and barked. Primo and Lucy were still. Petula put her front paws up on the side of the bed. She whined at Lucy and pawed at the silk bedspread beside her, but neither of the humans uttered a word. Then Lucy took a sip of water. She didn’t even glance at Petula.
Something was wrong, very wrong. Petula barked again, and then some more, but it was useless. Petula suddenly felt very scared. She’d seen humans in this state before. It was as obvious as an unburied bone, Lucy and Primo were hypnotized. But by who? Petula looked about her to see whether her barking had summoned anyone to the room. Then, turning on her heels, Petula fled.
Panic rushing through her, she bowled along the passage of clocks until she came to the small flight of stairs that led to the children’s quarters. She must let Rocky and Ojas know what had happened and get their help! Her claws slid and scrabbled up the polished wooden steps. Skidding to stop herself, she reached their bedroom. The room was empty. Petula turned and began to run along the corridor to the attic stairs. Her heart lifted as she approached the children’s den. The sound of jingles on the TV escaped through the crack of the closed door. Everything was normal, she thought. Rocky and Ojas were watching TV. But when she pushed the door open, her hopes were dashed. For there in the dark with the curtains shut, reclining in armchairs with glazed expressions on their faces as they gawped at the TV, were Ojas and Rocky.
Petula leaped into Rocky’s lap and barked right into his eyes, but he was like someone half dead. The light from the television screen danced across his brown face. Petula pounced at the TV. An ad was on. Three pots of mustard, each with a smiling face, jigged about in front of a barbecued sausage. This should have seemed funny, but today, as though in some nasty dream, the pots of mustard looked sinister. Petula growled and tried to hit the off switch. Having no success, she attacked the television plug and eventually pulled it out of its socket. Now the room was pitch black except for the light from the passage. Frightened and confused, Petula left that room, too.
Forest the hippie or Todson or the new cook must be all right, Petula thought as she sped along the carpet to the main stairs. Inside she felt desperate. A howl of fear was building up in her. For surely Forest or Todson would have called Molly and Micky back home if they knew what had happened to the others. Then a horrid thought occurred to Petula. Perhaps Todson or the new cook were the guilty hypnotists.
Down in the sitting room, Forest was so still he looked like he’d rooted to the floor like a human tree. Even the children’s pet blackbirds, sitting on his shoulders, had been hypnotized. Petula was scared. As quietly as she could, she tip-pawed to the kitchen. She found Todson and the Thai cook sitting in armchairs with their eyes closed.
Petula’s head swam as the nightmarish reality of her situation sank in. Moving as quietly and as quickly as she could, she crept to her special low chair. This was a chair that she could hide under where no one would find her. Finally under its velvet-fringed bottom, she caught her breath and tried to think straight.
She thought of the strange, glamorous woman who had smelled of red lipstick and rose perfume. Before, Petula had detected a scent of thorn in the perfume. Now she realized that the perfume had been the rose smell and that it covered the woman’s true scent, that of sharp thorn. Petula remembered how the woman had whisked Molly and Micky away, and a horrid mixture of anger and worry rose in her guts.
Emboldened by this detective work, Petula made her way to the drawing room, where she knew Lucy Logan had hidden Molly’s collection of time-travel and time-stopping crystals. She nudged the inlaid mother-of-pearl box from its low shelf near the fireplace until it fell on the floor and burst open. Nothing fell out of it. Nothing was in it. Someone had stolen the crystals.
Now Petula saw things clearly. This woman stealing Molly’s crystals meant she knew about Molly’s talents. The woman was obviously a talented hypnotist, for she’d switched every person in the house into neutral. But what about Molly and Micky? Perhaps, just perhaps, they weren’t in real danger yet.
Petula shivered. She felt small and hopeless and all alone. But there was nothing for it. Molly and Micky must be helped. If Petula didn’t go to their rescue, who would?
Petula made her way down to the kitchen, to the back door. With a deep breath, she nudged the wooden dog flap with her forehead and stepped out into the cool, damp air. Raising her black nose to the wind and cocking her head to sense Molly and Micky’s whereabouts, she set off up the long drive.
Five
Miss Hunroe stood alone beside a high, round table in a large, grand room with a very tall triangular ceiling above. Her and her acquaintances’ lavish apartments were all situated in the uppermost parts of the four towers that punctuated the top of the natural history museum. Miss Hunroe’s rooms were in the Art Deco style. The black lacquer chairs had curved solid wooden backs and smart cushions with a leafy garland pattern on them. There were etched mirrored-glass tables, and at the far end of the room was a concertinaed, free-standing pale wood screen with a long-legged leaping dancer inlaid in darker wood on it. Behind this was an oval-shaped double bed. The walls were green and decorated with gold brocade. A high maple cabinet displayed a collection of ancient gold plates and goblets, and on the floor, in front of the thirty-six–paned window, a giant, rare solid-gold vase, taken from the Egyptian department in the British Museum, stood proud, filled with magnificent sunflowers. A gorgeous gilt harp stood to the side of the vase, while above, a massive golden chandelier hung from the apex of the room like a giant honeycomb.
The walls were hung with paintings. One echoed the sunflowers on the floor and was by a world-famous painter, Van Gogh. Miss Hunroe had “borrowed” this from its museum home in Amsterdam. Languidly, she sat down at the harp. The sound of the strings as her fingers plucked them was like the sound of a heavenly waterfall. Then Miss Hunroe pinched one of the strings tightly and slid her pinch from the top of the string downward. This made a screeching, unearthly noise. Smiling, Miss Hunroe abandoned the harp and swiveled around on her stool. Crossing her legs, she pulled a clear crystal out of her pocket and held it up to the light.
“If she’s mastered time travel and time stopping,” she said, “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”
Miss Speal and Miss Suzette entered, each looking mode
stly proud, as though they were about to receive gold stars from the head teacher.
“They’ve gone!” Miss Speal squealed suddenly, unable to control her excitement. She rubbed her hands together. “I just saw them off in a taxi.”
“And zay fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” gushed Miss Suzette. Then she added flatteringly, “Miss Hunroe, you were brilliant—a tour de force! You should receive an Oscar for your performance! I loved the part where you refused to let zem go.” Here Miss Suzette imitated Miss Hunroe’s words. “‘I’m sorry, Molly and Micky, but I’ve acted like a fool, and completely improperly. You’ve said your parents wouldn’t want you to get involved with this risky business, and we cannot ignore that.’ It was inspired, Miss Hunroe. Well done!”
“The girl’s impetuous. And the boy seems to follow her lead. I knew it wouldn’t take much,” Miss Hunroe said, brushing off the praise.
“Expect zay’ll be at de casino in ten minutes,” enthused Miss Suzette.
“They are nearly there,” said Miss Speal with her eyes shut.
“Let’s hope it works,” said Miss Hunroe, plucking three strings of her harp with her long-nailed fingers.
“Oh, play us something please, Miss Hunroe.” Miss Speal sighed. Miss Hunroe cast her eyes to the ceiling, and then she played. Heavenly music drifted about the room and the women fell quiet, in awe. Then Miss Hunroe suddenly stopped. “But, Miss Speal, you should be ashamed of yourself, losing control like you did. I’ve asked you not to rub that piece of stone while we are here. You behaved like an idiot. It was as if you wanted them to know our secret!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” the thin spinster mumbled, staring at the ground.
Miss Hunroe tutted nastily and then narrowed her eyes and impersonated her. “‘I couldn’t help myself.’ Pathetic.”