by Lena Jones
I open the little window into the driver’s cab. ‘Are you sure this is right?’ I say.
‘The Lodge at Greenwich Park,’ he says. ‘This is it.’
‘It’s that little house there,’ says Liam, pointing through the ornate scrollwork gates to a tiny flint cottage on the other side.
We climb out and I pay the driver and take a receipt. There’s a sudden draught as a helicopter passes overhead, perhaps en route to or from the nearby Old Royal Naval College building.
As I stash away the receipt, I mutter, ‘Maybe when I’m allowed back in the Guild, I’ll be able to claim it back.’
‘What?’ says Liam. ‘Agatha – have you been suspended again?’
‘Yeah. I reported Arthur, and Professor D’Oliveira said she had to suspend both of us.’
‘What?’ says Liam. ‘When were you planning on telling us?’
‘After we solved everything …’ I avoid meeting his eye.
‘Do you reckon the professor’s contacted him?’ asks Brianna. ‘Only we’d lose the element of surprise if he knows you’re on to him.’
I shrug. ‘I haven’t got a clue. But he can’t really be expecting me to turn up with both of you at quarter to eleven at night.’
‘I hope not,’ says Liam. ‘I’m starting to wonder if we didn’t really think this through. What if his parents are black belts in karate or something?’
‘I’m wondering something else,’ says Brianna.
‘What?’ we both ask.
‘Why’s there a helicopter landing in the park?’
We all look up. The helicopter I’d seen before is now hovering above us, its lights illuminating the little lodge house. There’s a wind from the propellers – it’s like standing under a giant fan. We duck instinctively.
‘Someone’s coming out of the house!’ I say to the others, dragging them to the side, where thick hedging gives us cover.
We peer through the hedge and see the figure starting to flash a torch, apparently signalling to the pilot.
‘It’s Morse code,’ I say. I count the long and short flashes. ‘It’s a short message: Sil-ver Ser-pent.’
Then the helicopter moves further away into the grounds, and we lose sight of it, although we can still hear its propellers whirring. The figure steps back inside the lodge – and, for a moment, he’s up, and I see it’s Arthur. He’s the Silver Serpent!
‘We need to get through these gates,’ I whisper to my companions. I try the latch, but it’s firmly locked. Then I put one foot on the metal scrollwork and discover it’s easy to climb – the intricate pattern provides plenty of footholds.
I jump down on the other side and see my friends have both made it to the top. Liam jumps from quite high up and lands neatly. He has tennis coaching at least twice a week and all those lessons have clearly made him nimble. Brianna takes advantage of her long legs by stretching one foot to the ground and then swinging the other down to meet it.
We creep forward until we’re level with the wall of the house. Then we freeze. The front door opens and Arthur is again framed in the light shining from inside. He steps out and is followed immediately by a tall, slim woman.
We scamper back towards the gate and make it in time – they don’t spot us. I glance at my friends and see my own relief reflected in their faces. It seems strange that we’re hiding from someone I would have trusted with my life until a few hours ago.
‘Was that Arthur?’ asks Liam.
I nod. ‘The woman could be his mother, Tabitha.’
‘So why are we hiding?’ asks Brianna. ‘I thought the plan was to confront them.’
‘It is,’ I say. ‘But now I want to see what’s in that helicopter, before we announce ourselves.’
They both nod.
As soon as Arthur and his mother have vanished into the park, we follow. Not that we need a guide – the helicopter’s propellers are still turning, creating a vortex of wind and sound.
We approach it cautiously, ducking behind shrubs and trees, but the people milling round it are too involved in their business to notice us. The door has been slid back, and two figures on board are handing down large packages to Arthur and Tabitha, who stash each item on a trolley before returning to receive the next.
‘What’ve they got?’ says Brianna. ‘Can you tell?’
Things are clicking into place in my mind. Files at the back of mind that have been half-open for several days, awaiting further information, are now closing.
‘It’s art,’ I say slowly. ‘I don’t know if these are the original masterpieces or the forgeries, but those packages contain paintings – I’m sure of it.’
‘I guess we know why he didn’t want Sheila Smith sticking her nose in,’ whispers Brianna.
We hear one of the helicopter crewmen ask, ‘Is that everything for tonight?’
Tabitha replies, ‘Yes – all done.’
The aircraft’s door is closed and they take off. The current from the propeller grows strong and then slackens off as the lights recede into the dark sky.
Liam, Brianna and I keep out of sight as Arthur and his mother secure the goods – I count five large, picture-shaped packages – on the trolley and wheel them to the house. We follow at a safe distance and wait until they’re in and the front door shuts behind them.
‘Shall we knock or just burst in?’ Liam asks.
‘I’m not sure it’s the kind of door you can burst in through,’ says Brianna. We all look at the sturdy oak barrier, with its metal studs.
‘We could try the handle …’ Liam suggests.
‘I’m going to knock,’ I decide.
I rap on the door with the metal knocker. It sounds too loud in the night. As we wait in the cold and dark, I start to doubt the wisdom of our mission. Confronting Arthur seemed like such a good idea back in my bedroom – after all, wasn’t I owed an explanation, and maybe even an apology? But now I’m acutely aware that it’s just gone eleven o’clock on a winter’s night and I’ve brought my friends to visit a pair of criminals.
We don’t have to wait long before the door is opened by Arthur. In the light flooding out, he sees me and at least I have the satisfaction of watching the shock pass over his face before his habitual joviality returns.
‘Agatha – is that you …? And your friends – Liam and, er, Brianna, is it? What on earth are you doing here?’
He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head on one side – an attitude I would have found charming only this morning. Tonight, it makes me angry.
‘We’re here because we know everything,’ I say. ‘You and your mum are working for the Alumni, stealing paintings and replacing them with forgeries.’
His face changes. It’s as if someone has removed a mask. The twinkle and dimples give way to a calculating grimace. He’s weighing up how much I know and how much I’m just guessing.
‘You’d better come inside,’ he snaps.
I glance at my friends. Neither of them looks enthusiastic. ‘No, Arthur. I think it’s better if we talk out here,’ I say.
‘Agatha, it’s freezing!’ he says. ‘I’m not staying here with the door open.’
‘It is pretty cold,’ says Liam, rubbing his arms. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t do any harm to go in.’
So as we follow Arthur through the front door and into a small hallway, I say, ‘I’ve told the professor what I’ve found out about you.’
‘Have you now? And what is that exactly?’ he asks without turning to face me. The hall feels cold, with a tiled floor, and there are only two doors leading off it. He throws open the first and gestures for us to enter.
‘After you,’ I say, determined not to let him lock us in there.
‘Fair enough.’ He walks in and we troop in behind him.
We’re in a square living room, also with a tiled floor, and with four high-back armchairs set in a semicircle facing a fire that’s going out. A few embers still glow weakly in the grate, but there’s no warmth coming from them.
I glance a
t Liam and Brianna and see I’m not the only one feeling less confident now we’re on Arthur’s territory. The balance of power has shifted and I’m not sure who’s got control. This is definitely not how I’d imagined it. I’d thought in the taxi on the way over that I’d confront Arthur and his façade would crumble as soon as he admitted his guilt. He’d sob as he told me how bad he felt stringing me along and betraying not only me but the entire Gatekeepers’ Guild.
‘Was anything real?’ I ask Arthur. ‘I’m betting you don’t really have the near-photographic memory or your so-called Auto-Focus mechanism …’
He shakes his head. ‘No, Agatha, you’re wrong. I do have those. It was amazing to meet someone else like me—’
‘But not amazing enough to stop you betraying the Guild,’ I say. My voice cracks, and I wish I had a better control of my emotions. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’s hurt me.
Just then, his mother appears in the doorway. She stops and looks from the three of us to Arthur.
‘What on earth are they doing here in the middle of the night?’ she asks.
‘They’ve come to tell me they know everything,’ he says.
I take in her bony figure, her dark hair with the purple streak and her piercing blue eyes.
‘You’re the attendant from Sir John Soane’s Museum!’ I say. ‘The one who told me Lord Rathbone had sent The Marriage for cleaning. I’m pretty sure you’re also Tabitha Fitzwilliam, Arthur’s mother.’
‘And you’re that Agatha girl –’ she puts on a silly, childish voice – ‘“Oh, can I see the famous paintings? Only, I have a school project due in tomorrow.” As if!’
‘Just tell us where Sheila Smith is, and we’ll leave,’ says Liam bravely.
Tabitha laughs. ‘Do you really think you’re in a position to make demands? You’re in our house, on our property, and – I’m guessing – nobody knows you’re here.’
She’s right. We’ve walked straight in, like idiots. But I’m weighing the odds and I reckon that, if it comes to it, the three of us can easily take the pair of them. Even one-to-one, my own fighting skills are far superior to Arthur’s.
‘I’ve just sent a text,’ I say. ‘Someone will come.’
‘Sorry, Agatha, but I know that’s a lie,’ says Arthur. ‘I set up a signal blocker a few minutes ago, in case any locals tried to report the helicopter.’
‘What? But that’s illegal!’ says Liam.
Arthur laughs. ‘No! Is it really?’
That explains why he’d used Morse code to signal to the crew, I realise.
‘You can stop all this now,’ I tell him. ‘Give yourself up, Arthur. You’ll get a more lenient sentence.’
His mother laughs. ‘He’ll get an even more lenient sentence if he doesn’t hand himself in!’
‘Let’s all sit down,’ says Arthur, ‘and talk about this.’
It seems ridiculous to sit down with them and act politely like we’re guests, but I have no idea how long this is going to take. I look round at my friends, who nod their agreement, so we all sit.
‘So let’s start with what you’re doing here,’ says Arthur.
‘Catching you in the act,’ I say. ‘We know you received paintings tonight. I bet they’re forgeries, to replace the originals that you’re going to help steal. Why are you doing this?’
Tabitha makes a snorting noise. ‘And this from the girl who wouldn’t know an authentic Hogarth from a copy.’ I wait, but she doesn’t bother saying any more.
I try working on Arthur again. ‘You do realise, don’t you, that what you’re doing is illegal?’
‘Who’s it harming, exactly?’ he asks.
Brianna sits forward. ‘Er … the people who believe they’re looking at genuine, original artwork. If you visit the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, you expect to see the real deal.’
‘If these people can’t tell it’s not the “real deal”, they don’t deserve to view the “real deal”,’ drawls Tabitha.
‘And if even the art curators can’t tell the difference, why does it matter?’ asks Arthur.
‘But the curators can tell the difference,’ I say. ‘That’s why Sheila went missing, isn’t it – because she knew something wasn’t right. Where is she, Arthur? What have you done with her?’
‘Sheila wouldn’t stop asking questions,’ he says. ‘And now you’re starting to be just as annoying as her.’
‘Is that a threat?’ asks Liam.
Arthur looks him in the eye. ‘I was hoping to avoid this, but it might have to be.’
‘I feel like such an idiot,’ I say. ‘I really thought you were a decent human being. A bit of a joker, maybe – but not a criminal.’
‘I would direct my learned friend’s attention to my previous question,’ says Arthur, as if he’s in a court of law. ‘Who are we harming?’
I tick off the answers on my fingers: ‘Well, apart from the fact that it’s dishonest and deceitful, you’re harming, specifically, Sheila Smith, Samuel Cohen – and my mum. There might be others I don’t know about.’
‘But fortunately for us,’ says Arthur, ‘you don’t have proof of any of that—’
‘But fortunately for us,’ says Liam, cutting him off, ‘the police are on their way. I found a way round your signal blocker.’
Arthur looks unsettled. I can tell he isn’t sure if what Liam’s claiming is possible.
I know Liam is bluffing – he keeps his expression poker-straight when he’s lying, like now – but I love him for it. I wonder how I could have been hoodwinked by Arthur into thinking him a suitable friend. Liam and Brianna have bravery and principles running through them like the word Blackpool through a stick of rock.
‘Hand me your phone,’ he challenges Liam.
I stand up and step in front of my friend. ‘You’ll have to get past me first.’
‘With pleasure,’ says Arthur, rising to his feet.
I laugh. ‘Really? Which one of us has martial arts training?’
Arthur jumps into the air, spins round, then lands on one leg, high-kicking the other. I can feel a breeze as the sole of his foot skims past my nose. ‘You were saying?’
I’m rarely lost for words … I had been so sure I could beat him in a fight. At last, I manage, ‘Where did you …?’
‘Do you think Mr Zhang is the only martial arts sifu in the whole of London?’
Brianna gets up and comes towards me. ‘Agatha, it’s time to leave,’ she says quietly. When I don’t respond, she tries again, ‘We have to go. Now.’
I’m still facing Arthur, sizing him up.
He says, ‘You thought you could take me, didn’t you?’
‘How do you know I can’t?’
He stands, one foot in front of the other, his hands raised and loose. He has the stance and confidence of someone who knows how to fight. Would I be able to beat him, if it came to it?
‘Agatha – don’t,’ murmurs Liam, clearly reading my thoughts. ‘We’d do better getting out of here. Leave him for the police.’
‘OK, but there is one thing,’ I say, still looking at Arthur. ‘What can you tell me about my mum?’
The room goes very quiet. Arthur doesn’t answer, but his mother steps towards me.
‘What about your mum?’ asks Tabitha after a moment. She sounds wary.
‘Did you kill her?’
‘You need to be very careful, making accusations like that,’ she says.
‘I know the Alumni murdered her because of her investigation. Did you have anything to do with it?’
‘I know nothing about your mother, so I certainly didn’t have a hand in her death,’ she says coldly.
I sigh. Even if Tabitha does know something about Mum, she clearly isn’t going to share it with me. Frustration and disappointment flood in – but I can’t let myself be taken over by negativity right now, when my friends need me. So gathering myself together and turning towards the door, I say firmly, ‘You’re right, Liam. It’s time to leave.�
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But Tabitha is in the way. We could get past her – but as I assess the route, Arthur steps alongside her. I don’t fancy our chances against him. It’s dawning on me – rather late – that they really might not be amenable to the idea of letting us leave and go home, not with the knowledge we have now. I catch Brianna’s and Liam’s eye, and see they’re having similar thoughts. I look around and spot a landline telephone on the sideboard. Arthur may have blocked mobile signals, but the landline should still be working. It’s close to where Brianna is standing. I give a faint nod of my head towards it and she nods slightly in return, to show she’s understood.
I need to create a distraction, so addressing Arthur and his mother, I say, ‘I bet you’re wondering how we got here. Well, Liam’s the one who traced the registration—’
‘I thought you said that wouldn’t be possible,’ says Tabitha impatiently to Arthur. ‘You said it was unlisted …’
‘It shouldn’t have been possible!’ objects her son.
‘Anything’s possible online, if you know what you’re doing,’ says Liam, stepping forward. Arthur’s eyes flick over Liam’s neat frame, as if he’s sizing him up as an opponent. My breathing grows more difficult at the thought of anyone hurting my friend. Liam is fit from all the tennis – but he’s no trained fighter.
Then out of the corner of my eye, I see Brianna grab the phone. It’s one of those that’s just a handset, so it’s fairly easy to be discreet. But she still needs to key in 999 – and then how will she speak, when someone answers?
Liam doesn’t turn away from Arthur. The pair of them seem to be having a staring contest. I’ve never seen my former Guild partner stand so still – he’s normally like a big puppy, full of energy and mischief. No, I remind myself – you don’t know what Arthur is ‘normally’ like.
Each time I remember this, the pain is as sharp as the moment in Mr Cohen’s kitchen when I realised Arthur was a traitor. It’s almost inconceivable that he could hurt me in this way – that he could have been so scheming. Worst of all is the awareness that I’ve been fooled again. How does that saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I realise I’ve lost focus, so I slow my breathing before turning to Tabitha.