Scooters Yard

by Clive Mullis

  The commander scratched his head. ‘There should be plans for the original building somewhere in here,’ he said. ‘That’s what we’re here to find.’

  ‘Oh,’ replied Tiffany, as she looked around with diminishing hope.

  ‘Oh, exactly. An index would be nice, but I doubt we’ll find one. Feelers aren’t the most organised of creatures.’

  Tiffany nodded. ‘Perhaps they’re filed in order of age? If so, then surely the plans would be at the beginning. That’s what they did in my father’s house, all the family records were date-ordered and put into boxes.’

  It took a moment for MacGillicudy to remember that Tiffany had a title and could quite rightly demand that people should call her Lady Tiffany, and that she had a linage that went back nearly as far as Cornwallis’. ‘In that case, where do you think we should start?’

  She smiled and set her shoulders. She then held up the lantern and had the distinct feeling that the parchments were drawing back, away from the light. ‘Over there,’ and she pointed to the left.

  ‘Okay, then. We shall have a look.’

  The four girls piled into the cab with Cornwallis and the cat. Frankie and Rose were in the two-seater.

  ‘Spin it around Coggs, we need to go the other way,’ yelled Cornwallis. ‘There are two slow-moving carts coming out at the other end of Cricklybit Lane. They’re the ones were after.’

  ‘Right you are, guv. You just said, “slow-moving.” Do you mean I ain’t going to get a bit o’speed up?’

  ‘Sorry, Coggs. Not today.’

  ‘Bugger.’

  Coggs did his U-turn in the traditional cabbie manner, without looking and without caring about the havoc caused. He then headed off in the desired direction, muttering under his breath about the waste of a good chase. Frankie and Rose followed, with Rose at the reins.

  Cornwallis slammed the window down and eased his head out to look. So far, so good. He couldn’t see the two carts so he gave an instruction. ‘Pull over, Coggs,’ he said, as they came close to the junction. ‘We need to… no, wait. There they are. Wait until they’ve joined the traffic and then keep your distance.’

  ‘Yes, guv,’ replied Coggs with a sigh. He should be use to it by now, but it still grated on him: Cornwallis giving obvious instructions and insisting on giving advice, every bloody time.

  The two carts packed with the gonepowder eased their way out, both carts having their cargo covered, each with a large tarpaulin. Three feelers sat on the bench of one, and two sat on the other, their speed being a little above walking pace and the traffic immediately slowing behind them, bunching up with frustrated drivers. With the narrow roads and two-way traffic, overtaking in town tended to be problematic, and shouts of abuse wafted on the air as fists were raised, but the feelers and their carts just carried on, regardless of the chaos they caused behind them.

  ‘Why don’t you just pull them over?’ asked Olive. ‘You know what they’re carrying.’

  ‘Good question,’ replied Cornwallis, briefly taking his eyes away from the window to look at her. ‘At the moment we can arrest them for theft of the gonepowder and illegal transportation of a dangerous substance. However, if we pull them over, then the rest of the group will scarper when the carts don’t arrive. Ideally, the best thing to do is to follow them and catch them all in the act.’

  ‘I see: will we help to arrest them?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘I should think that’s likely. We don’t know exactly how many are involved, but Frankie has a list of ten names. Then there are those five up ahead, and we think there are a few more too.’

  The four girls grinned at each other; they were hoping to experience this sort of thing. The surveillance had its interesting side, but arresting people was the juicy bit of the job.

  Up ahead a bit of a gap in the oncoming traffic appeared and a few vehicles took the opportunity to overtake. The abuse reached new heights as the carts behind pulled out and the feelers just had to sit and take it, unable to respond in the manner that they wished.

  Rose and Frankie nudged the coach close up behind Coggs, but it looked a little strange that the sleek two-seater just plodded along, when it could quite easily get a spurt on and accelerate past.

  ‘Can you see what’s happening?’ asked Frankie.

  ‘No,’ answered Rose.

  ‘Then edge over and I’ll see if I can see around.’

  Rose pulled on the reins and guided them over to the left.

  ‘Still can’t see, try the other way. You might be able to see, then.’

  ‘Frankie, it doesn’t matter. Jack can see and so can Coggs.’

  ‘Yeah, but we can’t.’

  Rose guided the coach back into position, and turning her head, poked out her tongue.

  Frankie sniffed.

  A couple of minutes later the door of Coggs’ coach opened and Fluffy jumped out. The cat sat on the pavement and then with a big leap jumped up onto Frankie’s lap. Nose to nose he looked Frankie in the eye.

  ‘They’re splitting up, going different ways. He wants youse to follow the one staying on this road.’

  Rose looked over. ‘Going different ways? Why?’

  ‘Beats me,’ replied Fluffy. ‘'E wants me to stay wiv youse. Shame really, I were getting loads of fuss in there, I were.’

  ‘Not bloody surprised he wants you out. You been giving him earache?’

  ‘Just my usual.’

  Rose laughed. ‘That would explain it, then.’

  Coggs turned left at the next junction and finally Frankie could see the target, just a couple of vehicles ahead, perhaps a bit closer than they would like.

  ‘We’re too close, Rose; we should do something.’

  ‘I know; I’m trying to think.’

  ‘Just pull over and I’ll jump down and look at the wheel for a bit.’

  She did, and she pulled up next to a greasy looking mobile eatery.

  ‘Got a better idea. You hungry?’

  ‘Silly question.’

  Frankie grinned and jumped down, returning a couple of moments later with two burgers and a sausage.

  ‘Not like me mum’s, but beggars can’t be choosers. Get this down yer.’

  The gonepowder cart had kept moving and had put a bit of distance between them, so now they could relax in the knowledge that the feelers wouldn’t recognise them. Fluffy didn’t take long in getting rid of the sausage and hoped that Rose might not want all of her burger; with Frankie he’d learnt that what Frankie had, Frankie ate.

  ‘Looks like they’re going to the Yard. It’s nearly dark now so we’d better turn the lights on.’ Frankie leant forward and turned the wheel to strike the flint, a couple of sparks later the lights came on.

  ‘Did you get pudding?’ asked Fluffy, with a bit of hope.

  ‘Pudding? Since when does a cat eat pudding?’ asked Rose.

  ‘Since I’ve been at his house,’ replied Fluffy. ‘He doesn’t stop eating, and it’s all stodge. Luvvly stuff.’

  ‘No wonder you’re putting on weight.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are.’

  The three carried on arguing as they kept pace with the gonepowder.

  CHAPTER 31

  Dewdrop looked at Felicity while Felicity looked at Dewdrop, the difference being the look on each other’s faces.

  While Dewdrop appeared like a puppy with big dark eyes and a soppy sad look, Felicity’s demeanour had set hard as stone, unflinching and uncompromising. The interminable silence went on as they each fixed gazes.

  The young feeler’s jaw began to quiver. ‘I’m really sorry. I don’t know how many more times I can say it.’

  Felicity took a deep breath. ‘Not enough, I can assure you of that.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You threw stones at me, then everybody else threw stones at me, and I mean everybody. Can you imagine what my arse looks like?’

  Dewdrop’s mouth sprung open. ‘Yes, I’ve seen it in the papers.’

  If
the silence before was bad enough, then this new one took on a whole different persona: charged with malice, it had a whole lot of contempt thrown in for good measure. The two stared at one another for a while longer before Felicity turned her back on him. The head went up and she flicked her hair with her fingers, her stance said it all.

  Dewdrop sighed; he always ended up saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

  At the back of the underground entrance, just inside the tunnel, the dwarf on guard chuckled away. Dewdrop leant against the wall and peered out of the entrance; dusk had come and a man went around lighting the street lamps. He mulled it all over in his mind and came to the conclusion that in future he would just keep his mouth tightly shut and leave his dreams still alive.

  He cast a look over his shoulder to where Felicity should be standing, but the dark swallowed her up. He thought about apologising again as he heard a heavy sigh penetrate the inky blackness, but then dismissed the idea. She would just throw it straight back at him. He sighed, then he heard her sigh again, and then he heard a scrape of feet on the stone floor.

  As he looked out of the entrance, a horse and cart came into vision. He didn’t think too much about it but then he saw the driver and passenger lit by the lamps and he immediately shrank back into the entrance. Magot and Foley eased past slowly as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

  Felicity had decided to at least be civil to the constable and taken a few steps towards him when Dewdrop suddenly stepped back.

  ‘Ow!’ she exclaimed, as the hob-nailed boot landed on her foot.

  ‘Shush,’ replied Dewdrop, in alarm.

  ‘My foot, you fool!’ replied Felicity, now in pain for a different reason, in another part of her anatomy.

  ‘Please,’ pleaded Dewdrop, as quietly as he could. ‘They’re the ones were after.’

  Felicity immediately snapped to attention. ‘Which ones?’ she whispered into his ear.

  He felt her hand rest on his shoulder and felt a thrill of delight run through him. ‘Them,’ and he pointed a subtle finger towards Magot and Foley as they passed by.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

  Her lips brushed his ear and he felt things pushing into his back. At that moment, he had difficulty in concentrating on anything other than what he felt pressing in to him.

  ‘Just wait a few seconds longer,’ he managed in the end. Partly to see which way Magot went and partly because he didn’t want her to move away and break the spell.

  With half a mind on the cart and the other half on Felicity, Dewdrop suddenly found that he had no mind at all. A figure had blocked out his vision and everything went black: someone pinned him from the front and pushed him back into Felicity, with both of them being pushed back against the wall. It happened so quickly that he had no time to react.

  ‘Umph,’ said the unknown figure.

  ‘What the…?’ replied Dewdrop.

  Felicity’s arms were all over him in her surprise, and his arms shot out in front of him. He found that he had connected with something soft and not altogether unpleasant.

  ‘Remove your hands immediately, Cecil,’ ordered Rose quietly. ‘And your hands had better be clean or you’ll have a lot of explaining to do to Jack Cornwallis.’

  Rose stepped back and inspected her shirt. She’d handed the reins over to Frankie and slipped off the coach, hoping that someone would still be there. Keeping close to the wall, she’d hurried into the entrance and bumped straight into Dewdrop.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Morant. I didn’t know it was you.’

  ‘It’s okay, Cecil; my fault.’ Rose grinned as she saw Felicity’s arms were still all over him. ‘I expect you had your attention somewhat distracted.’

  ‘Yes, er…I mean, no.’

  Felicity pushed him forward. ‘I’m sorry, Sergeant. He just backed into me when you came around the corner. There was certainly nothing going on,’ she added in panic, as she realised what Rose might be thinking.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Where’s the commander?’

  ‘He’s down in the archives,’ replied Felicity, as Dewdrop didn’t look as if he could say anything at the moment.

  ‘The archives? Why?’

  ‘He said he wanted to look for an old plan of the Yard’

  ‘An old plan? I wonder why?’

  ‘That’s all he said.’

  ‘I need to get a message to him.’

  ‘Then that’s where I come in,’ said the dwarf, stepping forward.

  Rose peered into the gloom. ‘Is that you, Trugral?’

  ‘It is; what’s the message?’

  ‘One cart has arrived but another went off somewhere else, Jack is following it.’

  *

  They worked silently; apart from the occasional grunt of disappointment as yet another parchment roll got discarded.

  MacGillicudy and Tiffany were working quickly, glancing at every roll for signs of a plan. So far, nothing had come to light; but some very interesting things had been written down. Both had trouble with the temptation to read what some of them said, but time was of the essence just now.

  The cobwebs were a bit of a hindrance to start with: all the sticky strands were being sticky in all the wrong places. Tiffany especially suffered, as her hair seemed to change colour to a ghostly grey. The commander eventually decided that he’d had enough and spun his arms around the room gathering as much of the webs as possible and then rolled them all into a ball. They had clearance now and their work became quicker.

  ‘Most of these are laws laid down by the old Morris Council,’ observed Tiffany, before sneezing for the umpteenth time as the dust flew up her nose. ‘I can’t help but read a line or two before discarding it.’

  MacGillicudy nodded. ‘Most of these laws are still in place, they haven’t been repealed. For example, you can still be arrested for wearing the wrong colour of hat.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes. In olden days, the council decreed that on each day there would be a different “Dance for the day.” If you wore the wrong hat on the wrong day you were deemed subversive and could spend five years in prison.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I could go on, but you get the gist.’

  Tiffany nodded. ‘Sometimes we have to be thankful that we live in a more enlightened time.’

  The talking ceased and they increased their pace, working methodically down the line of rolls. Suddenly Tiffany stopped. MacGillicudy sensed the change in the air and turned to look at her.

  ‘Commander, I think I’ve found it.’

  MacGillicudy slammed the roll he held back in its slot and stepped over, a quick look, and he agreed. The plans were there.

  ‘Let’s get it on the table,’ he said urgently.

  They rolled the roll out and quickly perused it. It detailed precisely every aspect of the old building, from top to bottom. The Morris Council were renowned for keeping exact records and thankfully, they hadn’t skimped with this one. The table was too short to put the whole thing out at once, so they had to keep rolling one end while unrolling the other. Finally, they got to the bit they wanted.

  ‘Here we are,’ said MacGillicudy, pushing his nose down towards the parchment.

  Tiffany positioned the weights and then joined him. She didn’t wait to be invited, a by-product of her privileged education.

  ‘Look,’ she said, pointing a delicate finger at a long scrawl. ‘That bit doesn’t belong to the building.’

  ‘No, you’re right, it doesn't,’ agreed MacGillicudy. ‘The problem is that I can’t read the writing. What do you think it says?’

  ‘It says,’ said Tiffany, leaning forward and placing her elbows down while holding her hair so that it didn’t flop forward. ‘“Receptacle pertaining to the outpourings of the seats of ease.”’

  MacGillicudy gave a sort of grunted laugh. ‘They mean the cesspit. What else is there? Your eyes are better than mine.’

  ‘This one,’ and she tapped the roll, ‘says, “Accommo
dation for the purposes of cleansing.” ’

  ‘That sounds like baths.’

  ‘This one says, “Autonomous ascent. Ring only. The Arches.”’

  ‘Ring only? The Arches?’ repeated MacGillicudy. ‘I wonder what that means?’

  ‘Hang on, it’s not the Arches. It looks like some letters have rubbed off. I think it should say The Marchess.’

  ‘The Marchess?’ MacGillicudy started pacing. ‘The Marchess? The Marchess?’ That stirred something at the back of his mind. Finally, he snapped his fingers. He walked back to Tiffany and wrapped his arms around her before lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. ‘You little darling, you.’

  ‘Commander,’ said Tiffany, a little shocked, but pleased at the same time. ‘Should you be doing that to a new recruit?’

  ‘Oh gods, I’m sorry, Tiffany. Forgive me, but I know where it leads to.’

  ‘Am I interrupting anything?’ asked Trugral from the door. ‘If I am, I can wait until you’ve finished.’

  ‘No, no, no,’ said the commander quickly. ‘We were…we were just …’

  ‘No need to say nuffing. Mum’s the word, as they say,’ replied Trugral, tapping his nose and flashing a grin. ‘Just so happens I got a message for you. Rose says that one cart has arrived but the second has gone off somewhere else and Cornwallis is following.’

  ‘That means it’s a double pronged attack,’ said MacGillicudy. ‘That might complicate the issue.’

  CHAPTER 32

  Up ahead, the cart looked more like a blob in the darkness. Cornwallis peered out of the window and tried to concentrate. Coggs couldn’t put the lights on at the moment to give them some illumination: at the speed they were going it would be obvious to the feelers that they were being followed.

  Coggs pulled over and yanked on the brake. He turned in his seat and spoke quietly. ‘They ain’t going any further, Mr Cornwallis. They’ve arrived.’

  ‘What? How do you know?’

  ‘The Knowledge, Mr Cornwallis. Don’t ferget we cabbies ‘ave done The Knowledge, and The Knowledge tells me that they just turned into a dead-end.’