“Who would want to sneak—” Henry started to say. He didn’t finish. I knew we were both thinking Crutchley.
“Well, it’s too late now,” I said. “If somebody was here, they already had the chance to get out without you and me seeing.” I sighed as we started up the stairs.
“You’re imagining it, Annie,” Henry tried to reassure me. “If somebody was really watching and listening down there, I would have known it.”
stopped at the top of the stairs. “Now I have to decide whether to tell the clock about you or not,” I said. “Those things downstairs, I don’t see how they can punish me. I mean, they’re not exactly kindhearted, but they’re little, and polite sometimes, and gullible. The clock is what I’m really afraid of.”
“Afraid of a clock?”
“Wait’ll you see it.”
“But won’t it be able to tell I’m with you, like they did?”
“I don’t know. They really need me to communicate with it. That’s why they call me the nervous system. It’s possible the clock might know only what I tell it.”
Henry was shaking his head again. “If I hadn’t seen what I did yesterday, if I hadn’t seen what’s down in your basement, I’d think...” He grimaced and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d think.”
“Come see the clock,” I said. “I don’t know if it’ll know you’re there or not. Try not to think too hard, okay?”
“How do you not think too hard?”
Outside the door of my room I put my finger to my lips. “Just try to keep calm, unemotional,” I whispered. “Don’t project your thoughts or anything. Maybe it won’t know you’re there. Maybe I can figure out if it cares.” I stepped inside the room and he followed. Henry stood back as I opened the closet door.
The clock wasn’t moving quickly as it had been yesterday during the slowdown. It sat there, the propellers just above the level of the box, the tendrils now draped over the edge. As I watched, it moved a notch, and clicked, and was silent again.
I nodded at Henry and moved to the side. He stepped to the closet door and looked in. For a long moment he just stared. I couldn’t read his expression. We turned and looked silently at each other. Then I focused my attention back on the clock.
The palace in the basement is finished—and that’s what it is, a palace. I pictured it in as much solid detail as I could. They are hoping you will be pleased with how much they accomplished during the slowdown you gave them. They are also hoping you will be pleased about this. I relived the ritual of the swing in my brain, playing it for the clock like a movie, ending with the two deaths.
I waited. Nothing happened. They are not asking for anything now, I continued. I guess ... I guess they just want to know if you are pleased with their efforts—and what you want them to do next.
Again, I waited.
A tendril lashed out with lightning speed and fastened itself to Henry’s cheek. We both screamed. Henry ripped it away from his face. It made a tearing sound, leaving a nasty red welt. Tears of pain sprang to Henry’s eyes. We stumbled backward away from the closet.
And bumped into somebody who went “oomph” and crashed to the floor. We spun around. A very tall man in a black turtleneck and a quilted, military-style jacket was jumping to his feet. His hair was crew cut; he had a small video camera around his neck.
Before Henry or I could react, the man was out of the room and running lightly down the stairs. The front door slammed. From the window, we watched him jump into a familiar dark car, which rapidly sped out of sight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Henry’s hand was on his cheek. “Geez, this hurts,” he said, breathing hard. “And how did that guy get in here, anyway?”
My heart was pounding. “I told you. I forgot to lock the door. And then I thought I heard footsteps. He must have been from ...”
We didn’t have to say it.
“Maybe they noticed something funny when they were watching our houses yesterday—like seeing us inside, running past the windows like a blur,” Henry said slowly. “I went past the windows a lot. And today they decided to investigate.”
“I was at the windows a lot, too, in the slowdown,” I said. “I wonder how much he saw today?”
“Whatever he saw, he got pictures of it.” Henry took his hand away from his cheek. “Do you think this might be poisoned or something?” he said, his voice hoarse. “That thing in your closet doesn’t like me any better than the ones downstairs. It really is a lot worse, like you said.”
“I just don’t get it,” I said, shaking my head, bewildered.
“Don’t get what?”
“Why didn’t the clock freeze you in the slowdown like everybody else? Could it be because you knew it existed? You and I and the creatures are the only ones who know. And maybe whoever knows about the clock doesn’t get stuck in the slowdown. Would that do it?”
“Don’t ask me about its motives. Just get me to a mirror. I want to see what it did to me. How bad does it look?”
“Not too bad. Like a burn or something. The bathroom’s this way.”
While Henry studied his wound in the bathroom mirror, I surreptitiously checked my watch. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t concerned about him, but I had to be careful about Aunt Ruth coming home. It was only 3:35. I doubted that Aunt Ruth would leave the bank early two days in a row—she loved bossing people around there so much—but I still had to be careful. It would be a disaster if she got home and Henry was here.
I found some antiseptic ointment and cleaned and put the stuff on his wound while he sat on the toilet seat. “Feel better?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Annie.” He looked away. “I think I better go now, in case your aunt comes back. And I need to think about all this.”
I could understand why he wanted to get away from here. But, oddly, I didn’t feel as uncomfortable about the clock as I had before.
“Be sure to lock it,” he said to me at the door.
“I’ll never forget again.”
“Don’t look so worried, Annie,” he said, forcing a wan smile. “We’ll figure out how to deal with this. There’s got to be some way.”
“I hope so.” I locked the door carefully when he left.
I didn’t know what to tell Aunt Ruth. I couldn’t tell her about Henry being here and I couldn’t tell her about the boxes. But I wanted to tell her about the man who had snuck inside with a camera. Crutchley had to be behind it, and she needed to know about it, so she would understand what crooks they were. I didn’t like the way she was dealing with them secretly now.
She came home at the normal time, 5:30, but she was in an abnormally good mood. “Anne! Come down here right away. I want to talk to you!” she brayed upstairs at me as soon as she slammed the door.
I hurried down. How was I going to tell her about the spy from Crutchley without giving anything away?
“Something big just happened, right before I left the bank,” she said, rubbing her hands together and chuckling wheezily. “And by big what I mean is: big bucks!” She was actually almost smiling, which was unusual for her, though I could also see the twitching effort she was making to keep the smile from getting out of control.
My heart sank. I was pretty sure what she was going to say. But I didn’t want to put any words into her mouth. “What ... happened?”
“Aren’t you excited? You look about as happy as a wet dishrag.” She shrugged her fat arms out of her coat and let it fall onto the built-in oak window seat.
I forced a smile. “Please tell me the good news, Aunt Ruth,” I said.
“Crutchley made me an offer I can’t refuse. I knew holding out was the right strategy.” She was gloating, mentally patting herself on the back. “You want to know how much they offered?” She leaned closer to me, really smiling now, showing her teeth. I decided her habitual scowl was more attractive. “Guess, Anne! Guess how much they offered!”
“How ... how should I know?” I said.
<
br /> She was practically slobbering now, she was so excited. “Guess, Anne!” she ordered me.
The last offer they had made, when I was screening the calls for Aunt Ruth, was $280,000. “I don’t know,” I said. “Uh ... three hundred thousand dollars?”
Aunt Ruth threw back her head and roared. “You think I’d sell for a pittance like that?” she managed to say, gasping. “I’m not dumb. I know what this house is worth.” She pressed her lips together and began to hum, looking so smug I wanted to smack her.
“I hope you didn’t agree to anything, sign anything with them, Aunt Ruth,” I forced myself to say. I knew Aunt Ruth didn’t want to hear this; it would infuriate her. But I had to tell her; I had to try to change her mind. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Crutchley’s crooked. It’s not just that they want to tear down this historic area and build a horrible mall. They were following Henry, they were following me, in a threatening way.” I took a deep breath and pushed the words out. “And today ... somebody got into the house. I forgot to lock the door, and some guy got in here, taking pictures. When I saw him, he ran away. Who else could he be from but Crutchley? You want to sell the house to people who—”
Her smile, predictably, had faded. “You ungrateful brat!” she interrupted me. “After all my planning, and plotting, and strategizing, and being a sharp bargainer—all for your future—and then it works because I carried it off, and all you can do is give me this ... this environmental garbage, or whatever, and talk about your paranoid fantasies.” She lifted her hands. “It’s too much! It’s just too much!” She turned away from me.
It was pointless to try to persuade her of anything. It had never been possible to reason with her. “Sorry, Aunt Ruth. How much? Please tell me how much they offered. I’m dying to know.” In a morbid way, I was.
She swung back to me, her face lighting up again. “One ... million ... bucks,” she said triumphantly.
My stomach tightened into a hard, cold ball. “A million?” I said, very softly. Why had they tripled their offer? Had they seen enough yesterday and today so that they understood what was really going on and what the clock could do?
The phone rang. “If it’s Crutchley, I’ll talk to them,” Aunt Ruth said. “If it’s anybody else, I’m not home. And if it’s one of your little friends, get off quick. And don’t breathe a word about that figure, not to anybody. They’re not paying anybody else that much. It’s only because of my brilliant business sense that I got them up that high. Hurry up, answer it!”
“Annie?” Henry said.
“Yeah.”
“My parents are selling.” He was talking softly, but breathing hard. “Crutchley offered them a million dollars.”
“Yeah. Same here” was all I could say.
“You can’t say anything because of your aunt. I get it. But it just happened a few minutes ago. It has to be because of what they saw yesterday and today. They’re smart. They must understand about that clock, and they want it, really bad. And they’re interested in me and you, too. Your aunt tell you that?”
“No.”
“Hurry up, Anne! We have things to talk about!” Aunt Ruth bellowed.
“Try to stop her from signing anything. Stall. Whatever,” Henry said. “We’ll think of a plan. Gotta go.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said, and put down the phone.
“Who was that?” Aunt Ruth demanded.
“Just Linda. Only person who ever calls me.”
“You sounded pretty secretive.”
“She just has a message she wants me to give to a friend, that’s all. Anyway”—I tried to sound cheerful—“tell me more.”
“Funny thing was, they asked me about you,” she said. “Of course, they know who you are because of all the times I told you not to let them talk to me.” Again, she smiled a little, as though hiding from them had been a clever ploy on her part. Then she remembered what she was saying, and the smile sagged. “But I don’t know why they have any interest in you, and for some reason they didn’t want to tell me. But they want to talk to you—and the other kid whose parents were also holding out—before we sign the purchase and sale.” She frowned at me, an expression I was a lot more familiar with. “What is this, Anne? This interest in you? It’s the one sour note in the whole deal.”
What could I say? I shrugged and lifted my hands. “I don’t know, Aunt Ruth. Honest. All I know about Crutchley is the times I talked to them on the phone, when they were rude. And the times they followed me and Henry—the other kid whose parents held out. And the time today when one of their spies sneaked in here. I don’t know why they would be interested in me or—”
unt Ruth peered closer, squinting. “What’s this about a spy? I seem to remember you mentioning that a little while ago.”
“Uh, this strange man got into the house today. It was my fault because I forgot to lock the door.” In a way, I was relieved that Crutchley hadn’t said anything about this to Aunt Ruth—they might have told her Henry was here. “He was sneaking around with a video camera. When I saw him, he ran out. He had to be from Crutchley. Who else would be interested?”
Aunt Ruth’s face darkened. “You were an idiot to forget to lock the door. And I don’t like people sneaking into my house.”
“That’s what I was trying to say. You want to do business with people who use tactics like that?”
“For a million dollars, I’m not sure I care what tactics they use. I can see why they’d want to get in here to get a true idea of the house’s value. I just don’t understand what their interest is in you, that’s all.” She suddenly thrust her head at me. “Are you hiding something? I’ve had this funny feeling ever since your uncle left.”
It was probably too late to make any difference, but somehow, in my gut, I still didn’t want Aunt Ruth to know about the boxes. “What would I be hiding?” I said, unhappy and confused. “And why would that have anything to do with Crutchley?”
She sniffed, though it was more like a snort. “Well, we’ll see what happens tomorrow, after the meeting.”
“Meeting?”
“They want to talk to you and the other kid. What’s his name?”
“Henry.”
“Yeah. I don’t get it. But they want to talk to you two. I don’t like it. But for a million dollars ...” Suddenly she thrust her head at me again. “You wouldn’t do anything to try to queer this deal, would you?” she said threateningly. “I can tell you have something against it, for some immature adolescent reason of your own that I swear I will never understand. But just let me tell you one thing: If this deal doesn’t happen, your precious uncle is not getting another penny of that annuity. And then where will he be, huh?”
He’d be in big trouble. Uncle Marco was always very careful about money. He didn’t seem to make any from his travels—they had some other, unknown purpose. He depended completely on his inheritance, which was doled out to him annually by the bank. Without it, he’d have to stop carrying out his important missions and get some sort of ordinary job. I knew that would kill him.
Aunt Ruth lifted her head, displaying all her chins, and waddled over to the TV.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day, Thursday, Henry and I met with Crutchley Development after school.
It was arranged the night before. Henry’s parents didn’t understand it, and neither did Aunt Ruth, and the three of them didn’t like it at all. But Crutchley was in control. Their offer of a million dollars put the ball in their court. And Crutchley wanted to see Henry and me, no one else, at their offices.
The auditorium was locked at lunch that day. Henry and I whispered in the library. “Okay, Henry. I want you to be totally honest,” I said. “I mean, a million dollars would change your life. Maybe you don’t care so much about the clock, and Uncle Marco, and saving the neighborhood. I don’t blame you. Don’t pretend you’re on my side just to be nice.”
“I’m nice, but I’m not that nice.” Henry smiled. “If I wanted the million dolla
rs, I’d want it, for sure. But what will it mean? We’ll move into some boring modern house. We’ll have nicer cars. I’ll maybe go to a private school and an Ivy League college.” He shrugged. “Who needs it? Especially when you think about the alternative.”
“Yeah, well, if Aunt Ruth got a million dollars, I’d never see a penny of it anyway. Not that I really care. It’s like you said—consider the alternative and nothing else matters. What does Crutchley think is going on?”
“They must have seen and heard enough to get an idea of what the clock can do,” Henry said, very serious now. “Wow, could a development company ever use something like that! They’d have our houses wrecked and that mall built in days. If they didn’t believe it, they wouldn’t make that kind of offer—only hours after the spy got into your house.”
“So what are we going to do? I mean, we can’t just tell them! It has to be a secret.” I twisted my hands together. “It just keeps getting worse and worse. I can’t stand this! I don’t know how I can even go there. Maybe I can pretend I’m sick or—”
“That would just be putting it off. We have to get it over with.”
“But what are we going to do?” Suddenly I was close to tears.
“The only thing we can do is play dumb and wait,” Henry said. “We don’t admit to anything; we don’t know anything. It all has to come from them.”
“But then what? What if they really do know what’s going on? Then what do we do?”
“I don’t know.” Henry looked grim. “Maybe we just go on playing dumb. Deny everything. Make it look like their spies made it up. Try to convince them nothing unusual is happening.”
“But if that works, and they take their million dollars away, Aunt Ruth will kill Uncle Marco’s annuity—and then she’ll kill me. I mean it, Henry. That’s what she’s like. If she killed me, I wouldn’t be one bit surprised.”
“No, you wouldn’t be. You’d be dead,” Henry said, with a trace of a smile. “Anyway, what would be worse: Uncle Marco losing his annuity and you getting killed? Or Crutchley getting the clock?”
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