The Young Magicians and the 24-Hour Telepathy Plot

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The Young Magicians and the 24-Hour Telepathy Plot Page 14

by Nick Mohammed


  She held Deanna’s gaze, projecting her will into the other girl’s confused eyes.

  ‘You’ve been hiding it so bravely, but I can see you’re tired!’ Sophie went on. ‘You give so much of yourself to others. You’re such a friend to everyone! It must be exhausting …’

  Deanna gave a little whimper of agreement and nodded. Sophie had it right. As far as Deanna was concerned, everything she did was for other kids. After all, she told herself every day, what could be better for anyone than more Deanna in their lives?

  ‘But you forget the one person who really matters – you!’ Sophie was relentless. She had the other girl totally in her power. Whatever Sophie said became true in Deanna’s mind. ‘You must have burned so much energy since we got here. I bet your legs are like jelly. You must be worn out!’

  Deanna bit back a sob.

  ‘I am. You’re right. I give so much …’

  ‘I bet you can barely stand on your feet right now!’

  Sophie had to move quickly to grab Deanna as her knees crumpled.

  ‘Hardly at all!’ Deanna wailed.

  ‘And your eyes look so heavy …’

  ‘So very heavy!’

  Sophie took Deanna’s hand and patted it gently.

  ‘You need a good lie-down, Deanna. That’s all. A good night’s sleep.’

  Deanna had almost collapsed where she stood. Sophie took her shoulders and steered her the rest of the way while she stumbled along, gazing at the floor.

  Sophie winked at the boys. They gazed back with open admiration. Wow, that was even faster than the time she’d hypnotized a brutish security guard at Scotland Yard!

  ‘I hope housekeeping paid attention to my complaint,’ the friends overheard Hugo braying to his companions. ‘I couldn’t believe how badly my bed was made! I mean surely people know to provide freshly starched sheets, with one corner turned down at precisely forty-five degrees. Anything else and –’ he sighed dramatically – ‘I just can’t sleep!’

  ‘No chance he could make his own bed, I suppose?’ Zack grinned.

  ‘And starch his own sheets!’ added Jonny, imagining the severe starching a poor cotton sheet might get under Hugo’s watch.

  There were too many junior members for them all to use the lift at once. They all shambled up the stairs in a group, Steve and Jane still following closely behind, pointedly taking up positions to cut off any attempt at getting back the way they came.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of our room,’ Alex said quietly. The others looked at him excitedly, always delighted when confronted with this mischievous side to their friend. ‘The AGM is less than twelve hours away now!’

  ‘And, like Cynthia said, there may be a frustrated and angry poisoner around,’ Jonny agreed. ‘We have to look for clues. If whoever is responsible thinks we’re in our rooms, maybe they’ll get careless and give themselves away.’

  ‘We’ll think of something,’ Zack said confidently, but not so loudly as to wake Deanna.

  It still felt weird for Zack to be all fired up about helping President Pickle.

  ‘We have to find a way to get past Steve and Jane, though,’ Alex pointed out.

  ‘True,’ Jonny agreed. ‘In fact, if they split up, then that’s two people to sneak past unnoticed. So two tricks. Hmm.’

  ‘Oh,’ Sophie said, suddenly happening on an idea. ‘I can manage one. Just leave it to me!’

  ‘More hypnosis?’ asked Jonny excitedly.

  ‘No, something much more fascinating to watch!’ added Sophie cryptically.

  ‘OK.’ Jonny smiled. ‘If you won’t tell me your ideas … I won’t tell you mine!’ He grinned to show there was no offence, and scooted up the stairs ahead of them on his long legs.

  By the time the others reached their rooms, Jonny was already waiting outside room 207. He and Sophie gave each other a ‘challenge accepted’ sort of smile: yes, they each had a plan, and no, they weren’t sharing the details with anyone else! There is such a thing as showmanship.

  Sophie steered Deanna in through the girls’ door at 208 while Zack unlocked the door to the boys’ room, still mystified, along with Alex, as to what either of the other two was planning.

  One thing was for sure – they wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night!

  ‘Night, Steve, night, Jane!’

  Yeah, right!

  13

  9 P.M.

  ‘So where do we look first?’ Zack asked.

  ‘And,’ Jonny added sensibly, ‘what exactly are we looking for?’

  Zack paused for a moment, then nodded unhappily, his way of saying quietly that yes, knowing exactly what they were looking for was kind of a crucial part to all this.

  They were all in the boys’ room, Sophie having quite literally dropped Deanna off next door in 208.

  ‘I think we should start on the ground floor,’ Alex answered. ‘All the rooms up here are just bedrooms. Downstairs is where the clues will be.’

  ‘But we don’t know what we’re looking for,’ Zack said in frustration. ‘I mean … a room with pens and paper in it? A weight-loss chart? A signed confession?’ He pushed the fleshy bits of his thumbs up into his teeth (the incisors, to be precise). ‘But, if there are clues to be found, Alex is right. They’ll be downstairs. At the very least –’ he jabbed a finger at the bedroom door – ‘on the other side of that!’

  Jonny grinned widely.

  ‘OK, Sophie, I believe you had something planned to get us past our gorgeous guardians?’

  ‘On it!’ Sophie strode into the middle of the room and stood, feet apart. She flexed one arm, then the other, and cricked her neck. She twirled her wrists about before gently putting both sets of fingers to her temples and closing her eyes.

  ‘Deanna-a-a-a!’ she intoned. ‘K-i-i-c-c-k … of-f-f!’

  The others stared at her, mystified. Could Sophie really control one of her subjects while in a different room? She opened her eyes and grinned before crossing over to the adjoining wall and bashing hard.

  ‘Wait for it …’

  Sophie went to the door and cracked it open a few centimetres, her ear to the gap.

  ‘Wait for it …’

  Sounds:

  – The door to number 208 being flung open.

  – Familiar footsteps stomping down towards the end of the corridor, carrying the heavy weight of ATTITUDE.

  – A moment’s protest from Jane. ‘Deanna dearest, you really aren’t allowed –’

  – And then the glory that was Deanna kicking off, full tilt, all systems go, all rockets firing, like a rhino powered by nuclear fuel, back to full strength.

  ‘WHY HAVE WE ALL BEEN CURFEWED LIKE THIS?’ she demanded loudly, her voice ringing down the corridor.

  ‘It’s for your own safety –’ Jane tried to protest.

  ‘BUT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT OUR LIVES DEPEND ON THIS!’

  ‘I don’t see how it’s that dangerous, sweetheart.’

  ‘I MEAN OUR PROFESSIONAL LIVES! LIFE IS ALL ABOUT WHO YOU KNOW AND WHO YOU MEET! HOW ARE WE EXPECTED TO MEET ANYONE IF WE’RE LOCKED UP IN OUR ROOMS, LADY?!’

  ‘No one is locking you up – it’s just time for bed!’

  Sophie poked her head round the door to see Jane with her back to them. She quietly slithered out and gestured for the others to follow. She could explain to them exactly how she’d managed to pre-programme Deanna to do her bidding and kick off at precisely the right moment in a bit. But, for now, they had Jane and a whereabouts-currently-unknown Steve to sneak past first.

  ‘OUR FUTURE IS TICKING AWAY!’ Deanna’s voice began to rise, higher and higher up the scale. ‘ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN US? IS THIS DELIBERATE? DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYING THE HOPES OF THE NEXT GENERATION OF MAGICIANS?’

  Sophie, Zack, Jonny and Alex just had to go a few more footsteps round the corner and they’d be out of sight.

  ‘OK,’ Zack whispered, having finally worked out what must have happened. ‘So Sophie planted a s
uggestion for Deanna to kick off on cue – which is genius, by the way. I mean total genius! But presumably Steve is lurking somewhere round this next corner by the stairs and the lift, yes?’

  They all knew this was true – unless Steve was running to rescue his wife from a now truly incandescent Deanna, which would have been a showdown worth staying for if it didn’t go against everything they were trying to achieve right at that moment.

  The friends crept forward delicately. Alex shuffled his way to the front and clicked his fingers. A dentist’s mirror shot down from one of his supersized sleeves. He held it by the handle and gently poked it round the bend of the corridor, like he was invading some giant mouth.

  Steve, as Zack had suspected, was in a chair by the stairs and the lift, reading a book and eating crisps, pointedly ignoring the Deanna noises echoing down the corridor.

  Alex withdrew the mirror.

  ‘So how do we get past him, Jonny?’ he whispered.

  Jonny hadn’t stopped grinning since they left their room.

  ‘OK, come on, mate. Care to share?’ Zack murmured.

  Jonny knocked gently on the nearest door. The one that didn’t have a number on the front. The one with the plaque that read PRESIDENTIAL SUITE, the words so large that the plaque took over most of the door.

  Hugo stepped out in a padded silk dressing gown, tied at the waist with an elegant sash. He and Jonny nodded coolly at each other, and then without a moment’s pause Hugo started to complain – like a wounded seagull – as he stepped purposefully round the corner and strode towards Steve.

  ‘Right. Here is my full list of grievances to present to management!’ they heard him say. Alex followed his progress in the dentist’s mirror.

  ‘One, my sheets were not starched, contrary to my specific requirements on the booking form, and the turndown angle was more like thirty degrees than the full forty-five. Here, look at this …’

  Hugo fished out a hanky that was, naturally, spotless. He folded it in half, corner to corner, so that it made a perfect isosceles triangle.

  ‘That’s more like the kind of thing I’d like to see. Here, take it. Give it to the nearest maid. Do they have maids here? I’m also a touch hungry. Is there room service? Actually, I’d like to speak to the head chef first …’

  Jonny crouched down so that he could also see the mirror.

  ‘He’s good at this, isn’t he? Anyone would think he’s done it before!’ he whispered cheekily.

  The moment Steve’s back was turned, Jonny gestured for everyone to follow while Hugo continued to chirrup like a battery-powered choirboy.

  ‘Next, the mint on the pillow was completely substandard. I expect a quality brand, something that Harrods stock at least, not something from some bumper-fun selection box. God forbid those things still even exist. And where oh where, oh where are my evening chocolate-and-ginger biscuits made with real stem ginger and ninety per cent cocoa?’

  Oh no! Sophie, Alex and Zack spotted the problem immediately.

  There were two flights of stairs, one leading down and one leading up, with the lift in between. Hugo had lured Steve away from one flight of stairs – great – but he was standing right next to the other – the downward flight! Steve was bound to notice them now, surely!

  ‘Third,’ Hugo declared, ticking the points off on his fingers, ‘the bathroom. The bathroom! If you can call it that. The water is too unpredictable – one minute it’s ice cold, the next it’s boiling hot. No one can live like that, it’s too stressful!’

  And as Hugo was shifting on to his fourth point – something to do with the distance between the panes in the double glazing being inconsistent – Jonny quickly diverted his friends up the flight of stairs to the next floor.

  They all had to work hard at not bursting out laughing as soon as Steve was out of sight below.

  ‘OK,’ Zack gasped. ‘First off, how on earth did you manage to convince Hugo to be on our side? Best magic trick I’ve seen all weekend!’

  ‘Well, I thought we might need a distraction if we could work out how to get this far. He was pretty cheesed off about being sent to bed early too, so he was happy to join in.’

  ‘Really? That was all it took to convince him?’ Zack said, raising a semi-sceptical eyebrow. Jonny shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor. Hmm. Arguably not the best poker face, Jonny!

  ‘OK … Plus, I might have promised him shares in all future Young Magicians merchandise as well.’

  The others couldn’t help but laugh!

  ‘Anyway,’ Jonny went on quickly, ‘now we’re up here, we can just take the lift all the way down to the ground floor.’

  Sophie pretended to bow down, like he had done to her earlier.

  ‘Not bad, mister!’

  The four friends filed into the lift and hit the button for the ground floor. The doors clanked shut and the lift started to descend before stopping abruptly … Exactly. One. Floor. Down.

  The doors opened to reveal Steve standing (thankfully) with his back towards them while Hugo continued: ‘And finally MY ROOM SMELLS OF EGG!’

  Zack pushed the ground-floor button what felt like a million times, hoping beyond hope that this would spur the doors into closing just that little bit quicker than normal, but knowing deep down that this never worked and, if anything, only served to aggravate the electronics.

  Hugo peered round Steve, spotting the four looking desperate, and instantly started to freestyle further complaints to prevent Steve from turning round. ‘Plus, the carpet needs replacing, the sink needs unblocking, the curtains are teeming with life and I’d like to put some pictures up. Now SORT IT OUT!’

  The lift doors closed teasingly slowly as the four breathed a sigh of relief.

  I mean, you had to hand it to him. For all his faults, that was a GREAT save – thanks, Hugo!

  14

  10 P.M.

  Alex knelt and gazed at the door handle through his thick glasses. To the average passer-by, one might reasonably conclude that this was the first time the boy had ever set eyes on such a thing. A door with a handle? A handle, you say? Are you completely mad?!

  But, deep inside Alex’s brain, images of locks whistled past as he ran through his own private database. Then he smiled slightly, and nodded to himself, and – with several deliberate flicks of both wrists – produced a long, thin metal spike with a hook at the end, in one hand, and a thin metal shaft in the other.

  The bits of metal were a pick and a rake – classic housebreaking tools which could possibly have got Alex arrested, or at least questioned with serious intent, if a police officer had decided to search him – which would never happen because, to the outside world, Alex looked like a harmless, studious urchin, and sometimes – just sometimes – it was very useful to preserve this image. The items were both stored inside the sleeves of his blazer, in little compartments that he had sewn in especially. His mum would have had a fit had she known …

  ‘That blazer is meant to get you places, darling! It’s not for tinkering with,’ she would have said.

  ‘And it does get me into places, Mum,’ Alex murmured to himself as he slid the two pieces of metal into the lock. Tinkering away.

  The thin shaft was lined with metal ridges that engaged with the pins inside the lock – the bits that actually kept the lock locked. Alex moved the metal gently back and forth until something went click inside, more felt than heard.

  Alex twisted the pick, the bit with the hook, and the lock went clunk.

  Something or someone moved down the passage and Alex glanced quickly round. Zack was coming out of another room. Their eyes met and Zack just shook his head, his lips pursed.

  If there were any clues to be found at all, the friends had decided their best chances of finding them were in the network of function rooms and offices on the ground floor, between reception at the front and the Montpellier Room at the back. After all, this possibly wasn’t just the work of one person. This could be a far-reaching plot, and a plot requir
ed people to meet and plan … ideally in secret, and maybe even to stash their secret stash.

  Alex had been making his way from room to room, unlocking each door so that the others could follow in his stead and conduct a search. This was the last room before the large lobby area that led to the bar and the dining room.

  Behind the increasingly dejected-looking Zack, Alex saw Sophie and Jonny coming down the passage, which meant they were all done too.

  ‘Nothing,’ Zack muttered.

  ‘Zip,’ from Sophie.

  ‘Nada,’ from Jonny.

  Alex shrugged, and tugged on the handle of the last room. The door swung open and he stepped in, quickly followed by the other three.

  ‘Yep. And I think this one’s going to be just the same, sadly,’ Jonny said as his eyes searched desperately for clues, but only fell on dingy, scuffed carpet and piles of old chairs – the kind of battered plastic ones that you get in primary schools, which smell slightly of sick (correction: smell one hundred per cent of sick). Nope, no clues here. Not today. Not ever.

  ‘Only one thing for it,’ Zack sighed. ‘We’re going to have to search the bedrooms.’

  ‘All one hundred and eighty of them!’ Jonny groaned.

  ‘Well, one hundred and seventy-eight,’ Alex pointed out. ‘We know there’s nothing in our two rooms. Unless Deanna is behind all this!’

  Jonny held up his hand for silence, his head cocked like a lovely tall doggy.

  The sound of approaching footsteps. And the turn of a door handle …

  By the time the door opened, the Young Magicians had all vanished behind stacks of chairs, each conveniently choosing a height similar to their own, save for Jonny who was now bending his knees while keeping a straight back, and hoping his core strength would last the next few minutes. None of them had the foggiest idea who had entered the room. From his cramped position, all Alex knew was that a man’s legs had come in (woven leather loafers, trendily shabby jeans), followed by a woman’s (high heels, colourful, floor-length skirt). The man was laughing, fit to bust.

 

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