‘Hannah!’ whispered Isabella as the maid swept past pushing a second crate. She had just enough chain to step forward and block Hannah’s path. ‘I must talk to you.’
‘Get out of my way,’ hissed the traitor, ‘before I break your fingers.’
But Isabella was in no mood for threats. ‘What is wrong with Aunt Rosemary and Levi?’ she whispered, hoping her voice would not carry far enough for Dr Mangrove to hear. ‘Have they been drugged?’
‘Dr Mangrove has his ways,’ said Hannah proudly. ‘Don’t worry, they only feel pain when he wants them to.’
‘Why are you doing this, Hannah?’ whispered Isabella. ‘Why?’
‘It’s called justice, miss,’ said Hannah, wiping her sweaty palms on the apron of her maid’s uniform. ‘You treated me like a slave and now I’m returning the favour.’
‘Lies,’ hissed Isabella, and the maid seemed shocked for a moment. ‘You claim that my treatment of you justifies your treachery. But what of Aunt Rosemary – what did she do to deserve this cruelty? Whatever you may think of me, that woman was never less than kind and generous to you.’
The wind seemed to blow out of Hannah’s confident sails. But only for a moment. ‘We needed her,’ she said, her bluster returning. ‘Not much use demanding a ransom without a hostage, and luckily your aunt was ripe for the picking. She wandered through the front door just as Dr Mangrove came up the elevator. It was perfect timing, wouldn’t you say?’
‘And what of Levi?’ spat Isabella. ‘What was his crime?’
‘He got in the way,’ said Hannah. ‘Levi wouldn’t leave well enough alone – thought he was Sherlock Holmes or something. Always watching me out of the corner of his eye. So I decided to give him a set of clues to follow. Well, he followed them all right, smack bang into my trap.’ She giggled coldly. ‘Poor little Levi.’
‘You heartless fool!’ hissed Isabella.
‘If I’m a fool,’ declared Hannah, ‘then why are you the one in chains? I’m no fool, miss. Fact is, Dr Mangrove says I’m the smartest young lady he ever met.’
‘Dear, I have socks that are smarter than you. Only a complete idiot would allow herself to get caught up in this hideous business.’
But Hannah only shrugged, too drunk on the mad scientist’s flattery to care. Isabella saw the coldness at the very centre of Hannah Spoon and she wondered if it had always been there. Realising there was no point appealing to her better nature (clearly the girl did not have one) Isabella decided to take a different tack.
‘What has he promised you, Hannah; immortality, riches? Or perhaps you have fallen in love with the handsome doctor and wish to be his wife.’ Isabella began to laugh. ‘Is that it?’
‘Shut up!’ Hannah had sworn an oath to Dr Mangrove never to speak of the bargain struck between them, but her pride was a beast that once provoked could not be tamed. ‘I’m no fool. We made a deal. Dr Mangrove has promised me the Lazarus Rock. Big as a football, he says.’ Her eyes glistened like honey. ‘I will be richer than a dozen duchesses and lords put together. Travel the world in style, I will. Go everywhere. See everything. My life will be full of fine things – jewels and beautiful clothes and golden beaches.’
‘You stupid girl,’ whispered Isabella. If Hannah had not been such a treacherous troll she might have actually felt sorry for her. ‘Once you have served your purpose Dr Mangrove will throw you away without a second thought. Did he tell you about the maid he kidnapped many years ago from this very house? She was about your age. He used her for one of his devilish experiments and it killed her. That monster has stolen, kidnapped and murdered to get what he wants, and he will do the same to you.’
Hannah would not look at Isabella but her eyes were clouded with unease, shifting about as she tried to find reasons to doubt what she was hearing.
‘It’s not like that,’ she said. ‘Dr Mangrove and me – we are partners.’
‘Dr Mangrove already has a partner,’ said Isabella, ‘and that is my uncle. Yes, I know he is dead, but that is a mere detail to a nutter like Dr Mangrove. He and Uncle Silas shared a devious goal – everlasting life – and it is that one ambition which drives him. Listen to me, Hannah; once Dr Mangrove has the map in his hands your life will cease to matter. And as for the Lazarus Rock – you can be sure he has plans for the priceless jewel, and they do not involve handing it over to you.’
Sensing that cracks were starting to form in Hannah’s fantasy world, Isabella reached out a shackled arm and seized her hand. Hannah tried to pull away but Isabella would not let go.
‘You can stop this whole ghastly business right now,’ she whispered urgently. From the corner of her eye Isabella saw that Dr Mangrove was staring at them with his horrid little eyes. He got up and began walking towards them, taking slow plodding steps. When the doctor was halfway across the chamber he stopped suddenly, patting at his coat pocket and muttering to himself. Then he turned around and walked back to the small desk in search of his spectacles. Isabella breathed a sigh of relief, quickly turning her full attention back to Hannah Spoon. ‘Help me, Hannah,’ she pleaded. ‘Help me free Aunt Rosemary and Levi. Do what you know is right. Please, it is not too late. You do not have to do this.’
Hannah’s fierce eyes settled, her cheeks burning a hot pink. ‘Yes . . . you are right,’ she said, her voice hushed. ‘It is not too late. I don’t have to do this.’ Then she glared at her former mistress, the hate carving a snarl upon her lips. ‘I want to do this. Dr Mangrove will keep his word because he needs me. A frail old man needs a young pair of hands. You think me a fool but this time tomorrow I will be a rich girl with the world at my feet.’ She pulled her hand from Isabella’s grasp. ‘Just be grateful I don’t tell the doctor what you were saying. He would cut your throat this instant.’
When Hannah walked away, pushing the crate across the chamber, Isabella felt as if hope itself was fleeing. She watched as the two villains swiftly packed a second crate with tools and metal scraps and more heavy stones. And as she watched, Isabella became certain that the doctor and his accomplice were preparing to depart. But surely Dr Mangrove would not leave without first seizing the map? And he could not seize the map without first taking possession of the Vulture. It made no sense.
And then it hit her. Dr Mangrove already had the Vulture! And for the first time since she had stumbled upon the secret room the girl felt a smile upon her lips. All she needed now was a plan.
‘Swear it.’
Adele sighed, admitting defeat. ‘I swear.’
The cousins were standing by the library’s large fireplace, warming their hands against the crackling flames. With dry clothes on their backs and warm soup in their bellies, they looked like two ordinary children whiling away the afternoon on a rainy day.
‘Not one word about . . .’ Milo’s gaze dropped from his cousin’s face to roam the area around his feet. He could not even bring himself to say it. ‘We’ll just pretend it never happened.’
‘But what if Uncle Silas hurts you again?’ said Adele urgently.
‘What choice do I have?’ asked the boy, taking the cold compress from the back of his head. (The lump had gone down significantly since the fall in the woods.) ‘If I told anyone they would think I was mad. I wish to report a crime. My dead uncle just assaulted me. Oh, and by the way, he’s trying to steal my body.’ The boy shook his head. ‘I would be locked away in a . . . in a madhouse.’
‘There must be something we can do,’ said Adele. She tried not to notice the way Milo was nervously patting at his hair to hide the three-fingered scar seared into his neck. ‘I will check the library; there are dozens of books on ghosts and spirits. Maybe there is some way to stop him from getting into your dreams.’
‘Uncle Silas won’t ever stop,’ said Milo plainly. He looked at his cousin and eyed her sombrely. ‘There’s something I’ve never told you, Adele. Last year when I was locked in the Soul Chamber . . . I felt him.’
‘Uncle Silas?’
The boy was shaking hi
s head. ‘Not his body, his soul. I felt it bleeding into me, just as if it was seeping through my skin. You and Isabella destroyed the chamber before the exchange was complete but not before a part of his soul had passed through. He is connected to me, Adele. I feel it and I try so hard to fight it. But it’s like there is an invisible cord linking us.’
‘Oh, Milo . . .’
‘I am sure that is why he feels so alive in my dreams . . . and it is getting worse. When it first started he couldn’t hurt me, not really. But now, well, you saw what he did.’
Adele could not argue; the evidence was staring her in the face. But so were other truths just as telling. ‘But he can never be you, Milo. Not while that map is out of Dr Mangrove’s reach. Uncle Silas needs Dr Mangrove and the Panacea if he wants to live again.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ said Milo doubtfully. He was beginning to think that Uncle Silas was invincible.
‘Because if Uncle Silas could snatch your body without help he would have done it long ago. From what you have told me about the dream, it’s clear that Uncle Silas wanted you to doubt the secret room. That is why he told you that nonsense about Aunt Rosemary being taken far from Sommerset. He wants you to believe that Dr Mangrove is miles away so that we won’t try to stop him.’
Milo could not argue with his cousin’s logic. In fact, hearing Adele explain everything so simply had a powerful effect on the boy. He felt as if the scales had been pulled from his eyes. The way forward was now utterly clear.
‘You are right,’ he said, his eyes distant. ‘We just have to make sure Dr Mangrove never gets the map. That is what we have to do.’
‘The only question is how,’ said Adele, but Milo did not seem to hear her. ‘Milo?’
When Adele saw the faraway look in her cousin’s eyes it reminded her of why they were warming themselves against the fire. Milo had been stalking through the woods in a thunderstorm, cloaked like a monk in an oversized raincoat. Nothing about his terrifying dreams explained what the boy had been doing out there in the rain. And if there was one thing Adele could not tolerate it was an unsolved mystery.
‘Milo,’ she began, tapping him on the shoulder to capture his attention, ‘why were you out in the old woods? What were you doing?’
The boy looked at her and it was as if a light had switched on behind his eyes. ‘I was –’
‘Mercy, it’s an ill wind blowing through this house!’ cried Mrs Hammer, pulling at the hem of her thick black dress as she swept into the library and made a beeline for the Winterbottoms. ‘I’ve asked all over the estate, near and far, and no-one has seen Miss Isabella since last night. I even checked with the gate house to see if she might have stepped out on an errand but the answer was the same.’
‘Isabella,’ said Adele. She had been so caught up with Milo that she had completely forgotten about her cousin’s disappearing act.
‘Isabella is missing?’ said Milo.
‘That’s not the worst of it,’ said the old woman, taking a deep breath. ‘Mary, one of my new girls, was sweeping the entrance hall this morning when she found this lying on the ground.’ Mrs Hammer reached into the large pocket of her apron and produced a silky white ribbon. ‘Mary says it was in a tangle not two feet from the elevator.’
When Adele looked upon the pretty silk ribbon, curled in the palm of Mrs Hammer’s hand as if it were asleep, she knew instantly what had become of her cousin.
‘He has her,’ she whispered, reaching for Milo. ‘Dr Mangrove has Isabella!’
THE QUESTION
The hammer swung down upon the nail, driving it into the wood with the ease of a knife into butter. Hannah wiped her brow with the sleeve of her long black dress and looked to the doctor like a puppy waiting for a pat.
‘The second crate is done, Dr Mangrove,’ she said proudly. ‘I sealed it tight just like the other one.’
‘Well done, Hannah. Now take some water before you faint. I need you strong and alert, my dear. Remember, we are beginning the most important phase of our operation.’
‘Yes, Dr Mangrove,’ she said, eyes blazing. The girl dutifully poured herself a glass of water from the jug sitting on the doctor’s desk.
Isabella looked around the bleak dungeon. Over the course of several hours Hannah and Dr Mangrove had managed to wipe away all trace of their time in the secret room. What could not be incinerated in the steel drum had been boxed into the two crates and pushed to the edge of the pit in the centre of the room.
‘You have probably guessed that my visit to your lovely island is at an end,’ said Dr Mangrove.
Isabella jumped. Her mind had been elsewhere and she was unaware how hideously close to her Dr Mangrove was standing. ‘What?’ she said coolly.
‘I said, you have probably guessed that my visit to your lovely island is at an end,’ he repeated.
‘Well, yes,’ said Isabella with a roll of her eyes, ‘any fool could work that out. What I don’t understand is why you are leaving when you do not have what you came here for.’
‘Mmm . . . a very good question.’ Dr Mangrove offered Isabella a satisfied grin. ‘What would you say if I told you that I have everything I need to open the vault?’
‘I would say that you were a deluded old man talking utter nonsense,’ said Isabella brightly. ‘My cousin has read Captain Bloom’s journals and I know for a fact that you cannot open the vault without the Vulture. Do not try any of your tricks with me, Dr Mangrove. I am not some mindless maid fresh from the turnip farm.’
‘No,’ agreed Dr Mangrove, ‘but you are a girl who cannot resist temptation. Especially when it takes the form of pecan pie and ice-cream.’
‘What on earth are you babbling about?’ said Isabella impatiently.
‘Simply this, my dear – last night while you were down in the kitchen gorging yourself on midnight treats, Hannah was able to slip unseen into your bedroom and capture the Vulture of Sommerset.’
Isabella gasped. ‘You’re lying!’
With a devilish grin that even layers of drooping flesh could not hide, Dr Mangrove beckoned his partner from across the chamber. Hannah put down her water and was at his side in seconds.
‘It is time, my dear,’ he said, touching her shoulder. ‘Release our little friend from captivity.’
Hannah walked to the corner of the chamber and crouched down beside the smouldering steel drum. In front of her was a small generator with a crude wooden door. She opened it, pulling out an object wrapped in rich red velvet which she carried back to Dr Mangrove.
‘As you can see, my dear,’ said the doctor as the maid drew closer, ‘we have no need for hostages any longer. With the bird in my possession, you have no value. As such, you shall all die, and soon. Hannah and I are leaving in less than one hour.’
‘This is some kind of trick,’ cried Isabella. ‘You are bluffing! I know you are!’
With an absurd amount of care Hannah passed the swathed object into Dr Mangrove’s trembling hands. ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he said reverently.
Isabella’s gaze remained fixed on the red velvet cloth, and the rising horror on her face was a gift to Dr Mangrove and the treacherous maid. ‘I trailed you all last night,’ said Hannah jubilantly. ‘You and Master Milo thought you were so clever moving the Vulture from the library. But I watched you carry it up to your room. After that, finding out where you hid it was no trouble at all. That loose floorboard in your closet creaked so loud it practically called out to me.’
It was at this precise moment that Isabella began to giggle. In fact, the girl became so convulsed with laughter that she had to bend over to ease the cramping in her stomach. ‘Well, of course it called to you,’ she said finally, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. ‘That was the whole idea! We knew that the hiding place couldn’t be too clever otherwise the traitor, who we correctly assumed had the brains of a dung beetle, would never find it.’
It took a few moments for what Isabella was saying to reach the doctor’s ancient mind, and when it did, hi
s face began to glow like a cherry. He began pulling at the red shroud, spinning away the layers of cloth until a hideous bronze duck rocked into the palm of his hand. Dr Mangrove’s mouth parted but only a creaking groan seeped out. The duck fell from his hands and dropped to the ground.
‘Where is the Vulture?’ shrieked Hannah Spoon, lashing out at Isabella like a tiger, her claws scraping down the girl’s arm and drawing two tracks of blood. ‘Tell me now or I will kill you!’
‘Do your best,’ said Isabella calmly, refusing to acknowledge the wound on her arm or the pain she was in. ‘I will never tell you. The map and your precious Rock will stay buried forever. You have made a deal with the devil, Hannah Spoon, and you shall not be rewarded for it.’
With her face knotted in rage Hannah pushed past the bewildered doctor and leaped up, pulling a spiked mallet from the wall. She spun the brutal weapon in her hand, the thick metal thorns flaring under the torchlight. Then she charged at her mistress, mallet raised high above her head. Isabella shut her eyes but did not scream. Time melted to a trickle as she waited to die . . . seconds passed . . . ten . . . twenty . . . and still no pain. At last Isabella ventured to open her eyes and found Dr Mangrove restraining the maid’s arm.
‘Not yet, my dear,’ he said calmly. ‘Drop it. The answer we are seeking will not come from a dead girl, now, will it?’
Hannah was seething, saliva shooting from her lips like sparks. ‘I suppose not,’ she hissed, releasing the mallet. She shook her head, unable to fight the misery of shattered dreams. ‘But you don’t understand, Dr Mangrove. She is as stubborn as a mule. If she says she would rather die than tell us where the statue is, then I’m telling you she means it. Without the Vulture all is lost. You took the last of the Panacea two days ago – how much longer can you last without more?’
The Vulture of Sommerset Page 16