Demelza & the Spectre Detectors

by Holly Rivers

  ‘I’ve already thought of that,’ said Demelza, plonking her satchel down on to the ground. ‘Professor Demelza Clock has an answer for everything!’ She rummaged through her satchel before pulling out a length of thick rope with a two-pronged hook attached to its end. ‘My newly improved Clandestine Climbing Claw! Perfect for the everyday cat burglar and school trespasser. Now, watch yourself!’

  Percy jumped back and Demelza swung the contraption around her head a few times before lassoing it through the air. The hooked end latched over the top of the metal gate with a ringing clang.

  ‘Bullseye!’ Demelza exclaimed, pulling the rope taught. ‘Follow me!’

  ‘Ahem, what about me?’ came Lord Balthazar’s nasal tones from the front basket of the bicycle. ‘Not all of us have the desire, nor the limbs, to pull ourselves up a twenty foot vertical incline.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Lord Balthazar,’ said Demelza, knowing full well that what she was about to say would rile the Talking Head even further. ‘I wouldn’t expect such an esteemed member of the aristocracy to endure such a task. I thought I’d just throw you over instead. I’ve always been good at netball . . .’

  The skull’s jaw dropped.

  ‘Only joking!’ said Demelza, suddenly feeling like a bit of a meanie, and she lifted him into her satchel before beginning her ascent.

  All was quiet inside the school as Demelza led the way up the gloomy winding staircase to the third floor. She’d been sent to the headmistress’s office so many times that she could have found it with her eyes closed.

  They stopped at the dark-wood door bearing the words Ms Margaret Cardinal – Headmistress. Taking a deep breath, Demelza knocked sharply and waited.

  ‘Yes?’ came Ms Cardinal’s harsh nasal voice from within. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Erm . . . It’s Demelza, Ms Cardinal. Demelza Clock. I need to talk to you.’

  There was a short pause before Ms Cardinal opened the door just wide enough to allow her one good eye to peer through. ‘What are you doing here? You should be in lessons,’ she snapped. There were crumbs in the corners of her mouth – they’d clearly interrupted her breakfast. ‘And who’s this? One of your little ruffian friends, no doubt.’

  Demelza frowned, puzzled. If Ms Cardinal was the Snatcher, then why wasn’t she inviting her in with open arms? Maybe it was a double bluff.

  ‘This is my neighbour, Percy,’ replied Demelza. ‘We need to talk to you. It’s urgent.’

  The headmistress took a sharp breath. ‘Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until the end of the day. Now back to class, immediately!’

  She tried to shut the door, but Demelza jammed her foot in the gap just in time. She looked at the headmistress with fiery determination, her face solemn, her eyes steely. All of a sudden she felt fearless, safe in the knowledge that she was about to give Ms Cardinal a nasty shock. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ she said. ‘Unless, of course, you want everyone in this school to know about your little plan?’ She took Lord Balthazar from her satchel and held him up.

  ‘Hello, Margaret,’ said Lord Balthazar. ‘Nice to meet you!’

  Ms Cardinal staggered backwards and her cheeks suddenly turned a washed-out shade of green. She tried to talk, but all that came out was an unfathomable series of strange gurgling noises.

  ‘Well?’ said Demelza impatiently. ‘Are you going to let us in or not?’

  ‘Put that thing away!’ she replied, looking left and right down the corridor. ‘Inside. NOW!’

  Ms Cardinal ushered the children into her office and pointed to the two threadbare chairs in the corner. Percy shot Demelza a worried look, and as they sat down she couldn’t help but share his nerves. Suddenly she realized how impulsive it was to have come here with only Percy and a satchel of inventions. They were hardly an army ready for battle, especially with Ms Cardinal being such a dangerous killer. But she had to keep her cool – she couldn’t let the headmistress intimidate her. She clutched Lord Balthazar close on her lap.

  ‘So you really have inherited the powers,’ said Ms Cardinal eventually. She began to pace, her court shoes clacking against the hardwood floor. ‘I thought that might have been the case when I saw you drawing those pictures in assembly.’ She stopped by the window and looked down at Lord Balthazar. ‘And you’ve started your apprenticeship, I take it?’

  Demelza didn’t answer. Was Ms Cardinal trying to trick her into giving information? Trying to see if she really was capable of performing the Conjuring of Resurrection?

  ‘I’m not here to talk about my apprenticeship,’ she answered sternly.

  ‘Well, what is it, then?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Ms Cardinal,’ said Demelza. ‘You know what I’m here for. Last night? Your men, Boris and Gregor?’

  ‘My men?’ Ms Cardinal’s nose shot into the air. ‘How very rude! I’ve never heard of a Boris nor a Gregor, never mind being acquainted with them, thank you very much.’

  Demelza snorted. ‘Don’t lie to me, Ms Cardinal. You sent them to my cottage, after the Dance with Death, didn’t you?’

  ‘Demelza, I sincerely have no idea what you’re talking about!’ said the headmistress. ‘In fact, I think I’ve heard quite enough. You should leave immediately.’

  ‘I’M TALKING ABOUT THE KIDNAPPING!’ Demelza blurted out. She stood up, kicking back her chair with a screech. ‘I know you’ve taken my grandma! And I know what you want.’

  All of a sudden the headmistress looked panicked. ‘K-k-kidnapping? Your grandma? Demelza, if this is some kind of prank you’ll be writing lines in detention for the next fifty years!’

  ‘It’s not a joke, and you know it!’ Demelza pulled out the ransom note and handed it to the headmistress. ‘You wrote this, didn’t you? You’ve taken Grandma to bribe me into doing the Conjuring of Resurrection! I know you have!’

  As Ms Cardinal took in the contents of the note a hush cut through the air, the headmistress’s eyebrows travelling further towards her hairline with every word she read. She looked genuinely shocked. Was Ms Cardinal really unaware of what had happened to Grandma Maeve, or was she just pretending? Demelza’s eyes narrowed and she glanced over to Percy, who seemed equally confused.

  Ms Cardinal put down the note. ‘Oh, Demelza, this is awful!’ she gasped. ‘Who would do such a terrible thing? When did this happen?’

  Demelza didn’t answer. Unless the headmistress was a very good actress, Demelza had misjudged her. ‘You mean, you didn’t do it? You didn’t order Boris and Gregor to kidnap her?’

  ‘Of course not!’ said the headmistress. ‘Why would you think that?’

  ‘When I came to get my notebook I heard you talking to someone about me on the telephone,’ said Demelza. ‘You said you were going to “act soon”. You said you had “a plan”!’

  Ms Cardinal shook her head. ‘Oh, Demelza, I was talking to my husband! When I looked through your notebook that day I guessed you’d become a Spectre Detector, and my plan was to use the information as a way to make contact with your grandmother again. To try and get through to her.’

  Demelza paused. ‘Hang on, what do you mean, get through to her? Why would you want to talk to my grandma?’

  ‘Surely your grandma must have talked to you about . . .’ Ms Cardinal’s voice trailed off and her hand shot to her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness gracious, Demelza. She’s never told you about me, has she?’

  ‘Told me what?’ said Demelza, her voice suddenly trembling.

  Ms Cardinal looked to the floor. ‘Well, I’m not sure I should be the person to tell you this, but I fear I must.’ She looked up slowly, and as their eyes met, Demelza’s tummy began to knot. ‘Your grandmother and I . . . we’re sisters.’

  CHAPTER 24

  Sisters

  Ms Cardinal let out a heavy sigh. She sat down at her desk and from the top drawer pulled out an old photograph. Its corners were creased and it was yellowed with age. ‘Here, take a look.’

  ‘Demelza, no!’ shouted Percy. ‘It’s a tr
ap!’

  Demelza took the photograph cautiously before wiping her glasses. It showed two teenage girls – undoubtedly a young Grandma Maeve and Ms Cardinal – sitting under an apple tree in the sunshine. They were smiling, enjoying what looked like an early spring afternoon.

  ‘I was eighteen when we stopped speaking,’ said Ms Cardinal. ‘Maeve had been a Spectre Detector for some time by then and everyone in the family was so proud of her, so pleased that someone was carrying on the tradition.

  ‘It was always Maeve’s done this and Maeve’s done that. Nobody cared about what boring old Margaret could do. So one night I snuck down to the summoning chamber in our parents’ house when I knew my sister would be in there. It was only meant to be a prank. I’d only planned on creeping up and frightening her, but . . .’ Ms Cardinal’s voice began to quaver and she looked to the ground. ‘I didn’t realize that she had a crucible bubbling away in front of her.’

  Demelza’s skin prickled as she anticipated the end of the story.

  ‘In her fright, Maeve dropped the whole bottle of blackbird blood that she was holding into her crucible. There was a terrible explosion and, well . . . this happened.’ The headmistress pulled down her eye patch and Demelza and Percy gasped. Her eye was cloudy and void of colour, with scars twisting around it like thick red worms.

  ‘And my grandma’s hand?’ asked Demelza with a gulp. ‘That’s how she got her scar too?’

  Ms Cardinal’s voice lowered. ‘Yes.’

  All of a sudden, Demelza found herself thinking back to something she’d heard in the summoning chamber – something that Grandma Maeve had said on her very first night of training. Any fooling around or lapses in concentration can have horrible consequences. Being a Spectre Detector can be extremely dangerous, in more ways than one. She’d been talking about what her sister had done!

  ‘Good grief!’ exclaimed Lord Balthazar. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that. And I thought it was only the aristocracy who kept such juicy family secrets!’

  ‘But why did you stop speaking to your sister?’ asked Percy. ‘It wasn’t like it was really anyone’s fault. It was just a horrible accident. Why did you fall out?’

  ‘We had a big argument after that,’ said Ms Cardinal sadly. ‘Maeve was such a proud Spectre Detector and she said that I wasn’t taking her work seriously. I guess I wasn’t, if truth be told. She said that she didn’t want anything to do with me any more. . .’

  Demelza smiled sadly. Yes, that sounded like Grandma Maeve – a devoted Spectre Detector through and through, but as stubborn as a mule.

  ‘For a while, I felt the same,’ continued Ms Cardinal. ‘I was so ashamed of what I’d done, it was too painful to think of seeing Maeve. But deep down I’ve always wanted to make up with her. When I got offered the chance to take over at Stricton last year I knew the time was right. I thought that your grandma and I might finally be able to make amends after all these years, Demelza. And I’d have a chance to get to know you too.

  ‘But when I got here, your grandma refused to see me. And she made it very clear that I wasn’t to forge any kind of relationship with you either. I was devastated—’

  ‘Well, you have a funny way of showing it!’ Demelza blurted out. ‘You’re always so mean to me. I hate school because of you!’

  For a moment there was silence, then the headmistress’s shoulders started to heave and the sound of her sobs filled the room. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Demelza. It was the only way I could deal with your grandma’s rejection. I just thought it would be easier for me to respect her wishes and keep my distance if I pretended that you were a troublesome student. All I really wanted to do was give you a big cuddle.’

  ‘Well, it sounds like you dodged a bullet there, Demelza,’ muttered Lord Balthazar.

  Ms Cardinal took a cotton handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose with a trumpeting honk. ‘You are mischievous, of course, infuriatingly so at times, but you’re one of the smartest children I have ever met. Maeve has done an excellent job in raising – perhaps not quite a fine young lady – but certainly a very remarkable girl indeed. I’d love to see some of your inventions one day. They sound wonderful!’

  On hearing the headmistress’s words Demelza was almost speechless. ‘Erm . . . erm . . . thanks,’ she mumbled.

  ‘But, Demelza, we can talk about all of this later,’ said Ms Cardinal. ‘Right now, you really need to tell me exactly what’s going on, and why Maeve’s been taken!’

  Demelza bit her lip and, starting from the very beginning, relayed all that had happened over the past few hours. It was painful to talk about. Horrible images of Grandma Maeve being snatched by Boris and Gregor kept appearing in her mind’s eye, like a scene from a film being played over and over.

  When she’d finished there was quiet.

  ‘I . . . I don’t know what to say,’ said Ms Cardinal. She looked stunned, even more so than the day that the school inspectors from the local council had turned up unannounced. ‘This is just terrible. And you have no idea who this Snatcher might be?’

  Demelza shook her head. ‘You were my only suspect. I guess it’s back to the drawing board now.’

  Ms Cardinal stood up. ‘Well, you’re not going back to the cottage, that’s for sure. I’ll get Nurse Miller to make up the spare dormitory for you and you’ll reside here at Stricton until we get Maeve back. Percy is more than welcome to stay too.’

  Demelza looked to her friend with hopeful enthusiasm. ‘Will you stay, Percy? Please?’

  Percy’s shoulders drooped. ‘I wish. There’s no way that Fräulein von Winkle will agree, she’s under strict instructions from my dad.’

  Ms Cardinal tapped her nose. ‘Oh, you can leave that with me. I’m sure a quick word in the ear from a fellow pedagogue will do the trick.’

  Demelza looked at Ms Cardinal with disbelief. Was this really the same woman who viewed telling lies as a crime punishable by a whole term without playtime? The same woman who considered rule-breaking to be the eighth deadly sin?

  The headmistress got up. ‘Now, why don’t you both relax in the common room for a bit? I’ll make the phone call to Fräulein von Winkle. Then we have some serious planning to do.’

  ‘But what about lessons?’ Demelza said.

  ‘Lessons?’ Ms Cardinal blinked. ‘Demelza, you have shown no interest in them before – why start? And as much as I think you could benefit from this morning’s double history, finding Maeve is your priority right now.’

  That evening, as the rest of the boarders headed to the dining hall for supper, Demelza and Percy settled down in the dormitory that Nurse Miller had prepared for them. The curtains had been drawn, the bedside lamps glowed brightly, and in the corner a set of wooden bunks had been made up with flannel blankets and pillows. Lord Balthazar was already asleep on top of the wardrobe, and much to Demelza’s surprise, it actually felt quite cosy.

  ‘Bagsie this one!’ she shouted, launching her satchel on to the top bunk as if she were an Olympic hammer thrower. ‘I’ve always wanted to sleep up high! It’s like being in a tree house.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ said Percy, who just seemed pleased to be somewhere other than the confines of his own room. Ms Cardinal hadn’t told them exactly how Fräulein von Winkle had reacted to her phone call, but apparently his private tutor had quickly arrived at the school with a bag of his possessions big enough for a round-the-world expedition.

  Preparations for staying at Stricton had taken up most of the day. Demelza had been back to Bladderwrack Cottage to pack a bag for herself and to fetch Archimedes. The little ball of fur had been in the middle of running his daily wheel-marathon, but on seeing the lump of Edam that Demelza had brought for him, he’d been quick to abandon his exercise and tuck in. Demelza had taken the big leather suitcase from the cupboard under the stairs and packed her ghoulbox, mask and crucible. Her thinking cap went in her satchel, along with the cleanest of her (not very clean) socks, a screwdriver, some wire and her Remarkable Robotic Hand for Homewo
rk Haters. She thought she might tinker with it later on if she felt a bit homesick.

  As she’d packed her pyjamas, the strange crescent-moon key that Boris and Gregor had dropped in the summoning chamber fell out of the front pocket. Demelza slipped that in her satchel too, just in case, although she had no idea how she would figure out what door it opened. It had been too painful to stay in the cottage for long, with everything turned upside down and no Grandma or Shiver to keep her company, and for the first time ever, Demelza had actually been pleased to be heading back to Stricton.

  ‘So what’s the plan now?’ asked Percy, beginning to unpack his things.

  ‘I think I might take a little walk around the field to clear my head,’ said Demelza. ‘You want to come?’

  But just then, the dormitory door creaked open and Ms Cardinal came in carrying a large tray covered with a silver cloche. ‘A little something from the kitchens for your supper,’ she said with a smile. ‘You’re probably both absolutely famished.’

  Demelza’s face dropped as she anticipated the bowls of lukewarm gloop that were probably awaiting them. Mrs Reid the dinner lady’s cooking skills were less Cordon Bleu and more Cordon Bluuuurgh. ‘Erm . . . I’m not actually very hungry, Ms Cardinal,’ she said. ‘I had a big breakfast. Very, very big.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Ms Cardinal. ‘I didn’t think that you would turn down some special treats, but there we go.’ She whipped off the silver cloche to reveal a plate piled high with thickly cut sandwiches, golden pastries and beautifully iced buns. ‘I guess I’ll just take them back down to the bins and—’

  ‘No, wait!’ exclaimed Demelza, jumping up at the sight of the delicious spread. ‘Maybe I could manage just a couple of mouthfuls. It would be a shame for it all to go to waste.’

  Ms Cardinal smiled knowingly, and wasting no time, Demelza began to tuck in to the mountain of goodies.

  ‘And what about you?’ Ms Cardinal asked Percy. He was eyeing up the array of tasty treats but his plate was empty. ‘Not hungry?’