The Death Collector Page 13

‘They’ll never find us in this pea-souper,’ George said. He grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him across the small yard to the gate. ‘Keep hold of me, or we’ll both get lost. No one in their right mind will be out in this.’

  The alley was thick with smog. Grey-green and acrid, it caught at the back of Eddie’s throat as he gasped for air. They looked both ways along the alley before George set off to the left, still pulling Eddie after him.

  The fog deadened the sound of their feet slapping against the damp cobbles. It muffled the sounds of splintering wood as the back door gave way. It deadened the cries of the men who gave chase.

  But it did nothing to mitigate the sudden roar of sound from ahead of them. Eddie skidded to a halt. It was a sound he knew.

  ‘Come on!’ George urged. ‘It’s just a tram or a train or something.’

  Eddie shook his head, almost speechless with fear. ‘That’s what anyone else will think. But it’s not …’ As if to confirm his nightmare realisation, a shape solidified out of the fog above them.

  Hot steam-like breath blew the fog from around them, whipping it into a vortex. Half-glimpsed jaws snapped inches from George’s face as Eddie pulled him backwards. With a snarl of rage, something lunged towards them again. Enormous feet slammed down on the ground; claws scraped and clinked on the cobblestones. From behind them came the shouts of Blade and his fellows.

  ‘We’re trapped,’ George gasped. ‘God help us, we can’t go back.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to go sideways.’

  ‘There’s a wall.’

  ‘No,’ Eddie said. ‘There’s a gate.’

  The gate was locked. Together they battered at it, without success. The reptilian head had lost them in the gloom. But an ear-shattering roar told them the creature was not far away. A massive claw slashed through the air, splitting the fog apart.

  At the last moment, George pushed Eddie aside. The claw smashed into the gate, shattering it and sending planks and splinters and hinges flying into the small yard beyond. Immediately after them went George and Eddie. They fled down the narrow path that led along the side of the house.

  Terrifying roars echoed round them as they raced down the passageway and out into the street. Eddie was almost crying with relief as they emerged.

  ‘We were lucky to escape,’ George gasped.

  Eddie was about to answer when a dark figure stepped out of the fog. Strong arms wrapped round him and dragged him backwards.

  ‘Not as lucky as you think,’ Blade’s voice rasped in Eddie’s ear.

  He didn’t think, just acted. He kicked out backwards, struggling to break the man’s grip. But Blade was holding on tight to his coat.

  ‘Run!’ Eddie shouted to George. ‘I’m right behind you.’

  Blade grunted and gripped Eddie all the more tightly.

  Eddie fought and kicked, and with a sudden, fluid movement, he ripped his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket, leaving Blade to fall backwards, holding only his coat.

  Eddie caught up with George, and together they ran as fast as they could down the road. They did not stop running until they both collapsed, gasping for breath. The pale fog closed in around them like a shroud.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Liz was surprised to see George and Eddie. She was helping Marcus Jessop work out the design for the backdrops when her two friends ran into the auditorium.

  Excusing herself from Jessop, Liz climbed down from the stage as decorously as possible, and made her way up the aisle to where George and Eddie were looking around with interest.

  She listened with mounting amazement and anxiety to their story. She glanced at the small contraption with its two metal plates and winding key which George proudly showed her. None of them noticed the sound of the back door of the theatre opening distantly and then banging shut again.

  ‘So you thought I might be in danger?’ she said when they had finished.

  Eddie and George were sitting together in a row of seats, near the back of the theatre. Liz was in the row behind them, facing towards the stage as they talked.

  ‘Well, of course,’ George said. ‘After they came for us, we worried they would also be looking for you.’

  ‘We tried your home, but your father said you were out,’ Eddie told her.

  ‘So we guessed you’d be here,’ George finished, proud of his deduction.

  Liz nodded. ‘Lorimore knew who you are because you went to see him. He knows you have, or had, the page of Glick’s diary. But until now he didn’t know who I am, or even that I exist.’

  George sighed with relief. ‘I suppose that’s true.’ Then he realised what she had said. ‘What do you mean, “until now”?’

  Liz was looking past George and Eddie. ‘The man with the scar is talking to Marcus on the stage,’ she said.

  They turned to look, just in time to see Marcus Jessop nod and point down into the auditorium, to where they were sitting. As the man with him turned, the stage lights caught and illuminated the pale scar running down his face.

  ‘Run!’ Eddie shrieked.

  Blade was already leaping down from the stage and heading rapidly through the theatre.

  George and Liz leaped to their feet and stumbled into the aisle. Eddie was over the seats and waiting at the back of the auditorium.

  ‘But, how did he find you?’ George asked as they ran through the foyer.

  Liz opened the main doors, slamming them behind after they had all come through. ‘He didn’t,’ she said angrily. ‘He followed you.’

  ‘Oh.’ George was crestfallen. ‘I thought we’d escaped.’

  Liz led them across the road and they ducked behind the end of a wall almost opposite the theatre. After a few seconds, Blade emerged from the theatre. He looked up and down the street, peering into the fog. They heard him curse out loud, before hastening away.

  ‘They let us run to see who we’d go to. Once we’d escaped they thought it was easiest just to follow,’ Eddie realised.

  ‘So now they know where you live, and where I live as well as about the theatre,’ Liz pointed out.

  ‘We could go to Sir William, at the British Museum,’ George suggested.

  ‘That’s where you work,’ Eddie said. ‘So they’ll know to watch there too.’

  ‘And they could very well be watching Sir William anyway,’ Liz added.

  ‘There must be somewhere we can go until they stop looking,’ George said.

  ‘If they ever do,’ Eddie mumbled.

  Liz did not reply. Somewhere in the distance, muffled by the fog, she heard the roar of a train. Except that somehow she knew it was not a train at all.

  Chapter 14

  Sir William had his hand on the door knob before he realised there was someone already in his office.

  He hesitated, hand poised ready to turn the knob. It was Garfield Berry that he could hear – the distinctive nasal tones. He did not know why Berry should be in his office, but it was no matter. Except …

  Except that Berry was talking to someone. And not even Berry was permitted in Sir William’s office without his permission. And now he came to think about it, Sir William had left the office locked, the key was still in his pocket. Berry had no key, not that Sir William knew about anyway.

  As he stood there, trying to make out the muffled voices from behind the door, several things occurred to Sir William. He remembered how he had thought his papers had been moved yesterday. How on several occasions he had wondered if things on his desk had been examined. How he had once found Berry in his office when he was sure he had left it locked. Berry had insisted the door was open and he had been looking for Sir William.

  His hand dropped as he made out some of Berry’s words:

  ‘… back soon. He won’t be expecting us …’

  The other voice was low and gruff. It was harder to make out, but Sir William caught odd snatches of what it said:

  ‘… can’t go back to the theatre, or to Archer’s house …’

  Sir William stiffened a
t this. He pressed his ear to the door, struggling to hear more.

  ‘What about the woman?’ Berry was asking.

  ‘We’re watching her house too. That urchin doesn’t live anywhere so far as we can tell. But we have another way of finding him, don’t you worry.’

  ‘So you think they might come here?’ Berry said.

  ‘It’s where Archer works. And we are pretty sure that Sir William High-And-Mighty Protheroe is also involved with them.’

  Sir William smiled at that. He certainly was involved, and getting more involved by the moment.

  ‘Mr Lorimore got my letter?’ Berry asked. ‘About the body, with the copy of Sir William’s notes? And Archer’s address?’

  The smile faded from Protheroe’s face. Lorimore – so now he knew for sure. And he was right, someone had been through his papers. He had suspected that idiot Defoe, not the apparently loyal Berry. He stepped back from the door and considered his options. To confront Berry and the other man now would perhaps be to overplay his hand. As it was, they did not realise that he knew Berry was working against him.

  No, he decided, better to leave them to their intrigue while he decided how to help Archer and his friends. But first he would have to find them – before Lorimore did. Sir William made his way back out of the British Museum and towards the Atlantian Club. The night was drawing in and he could do with a spot of dinner. He lived alone in a big, old house some miles away so the club was convenient and he had no one expecting him at home. Dinner, and a glass of wine to lubricate the brain while he considered where George Archer might be found. If necessary he could stay overnight.

  He continued to pursue the problem as he sat alone in the club dining room and tucked into his steak and kidney pie. It was clear that Archer could not go home, nor could he go to Miss Oldfield’s house. The theatre – wherever that was – was also off-limits. The boy Eddie was of no fixed abode, so that was no help. He might have all kinds of dens and haunts where he could take George Archer and Elizabeth Oldfield, though he doubted any of them would be very salubrious.

  He tried a different approach – considering their characters. Archer was a proactive man. That was one of the things that had drawn Sir William to him – the fact he liked to be busy, to be doing something rather than sitting around looking important like so many of his colleagues. He was sure Miss Oldfield was the same. And the boy Eddie was nothing if not impulsive and energetic. They would be actively searching for clues and solutions to the puzzle – hoping to gain the upper hand rather than simply trying to avoid capture.

  In fact, he realised as he drained the last of his wine, there was only one place they could end up. Sir William dabbed at his lips with his napkin. They might not have worked it out yet themselves, of course, but eventually they would have to go there. They really did not have any other choice.

  ‘Thank you, Stephen.’ Sir William smiled at the doorman on his way out. He paused on the foggy threshold to put on his hat.

  ‘Getting thick again, sir,’ Stephen commented.

  ‘Indeed it is.’ Sir William hefted his cane. ‘I was going to walk, but perhaps you could find me a cab?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  ‘Oh, and Stephen?’

  ‘Sir?’ He raised a hand, almost lazily.

  ‘If anyone comes looking for me …’

  Somehow a cab had clattered up outside the club, though it seemed not to surprise Stephen. ‘Yes, sir?’ he prompted.

  ‘I was never here.’

  Stephen nodded in understanding. He stepped forward to open the door to the carriage. ‘I will make sure that no one else has seen you either, sir.’

  ‘I still think this is a daft idea,’ George protested in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘We all agreed,’ Liz told him, also whispering. ‘If you have a better suggestion, then please do tell us.’

  ‘Just along here’s a good spot to hide and watch,’ Eddie said.

  He led them through the foggy night into a small wooded area. George was glad to be off the driveway and out of sight. Even with the thick fog, he had been afraid that any moment Blade or one of his thugs would appear in front of them. It had seemed like a good idea to come to Lorimore’s estate to hunt for clues when they were hiding behind the wall outside the Chistleton Theatre. But now they were actually here, George thought it was the most absurd notion.

  ‘If Lorimore is behind this, then this is the last place they’ll think of looking for us,’ Liz reminded him as they followed Eddie into the trees. ‘If he isn’t then it should be safe. And as you have pointed out, we need more evidence – any evidence – if we are to go to the police.’

  The branches were sweating where the fog condensed on their bark. The very air itself dripped with the damp, and it was bitingly cold. Eddie was huddled down on the ground pointing through a gap in the trees.

  ‘You can see his house from here. Well, nearly. You could if it wasn’t so foggy.’

  George and Liz sat down beside Eddie. He could just make out a blurred shape that might be Lorimore’s house. A faint light glowed at the back of it.

  ‘So where’s this monster live?’ Liz asked. From her tone, George guessed that she was still dubious that such a creature even existed. But he wasn’t, not any more.

  ‘Over there.’ Eddie pointed across behind the house. ‘There’s a big shed near the trees. I reckon that’s where the monster lives.’

  ‘In a garden shed?’

  ‘They wouldn’t want to attract attention,’ George told her.

  ‘Apart from sending it through the streets of London to attack you two, you mean?’

  ‘It was foggy,’ George protested. ‘But even so, they must have brought it most of the way in a special carriage or something.’

  ‘We might find out if we watch,’ Eddie said impatiently.

  ‘We’re as safe here as anywhere, I suppose,’ Liz admitted.

  ‘That’s true enough,’ George agreed. ‘Like you said, this is the last place anyone would expect to find us.’

  He froze as behind them in the fog, someone cleared their throat.

  ‘I must beg to differ,’ a voice said.

  George turned so fast he sent the fog swirling. Liz gave a gasp of astonishment, and Eddie scrambled for cover.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Sir William Protheroe said, ‘did I startle you?’

  ‘I’d be lying if I said you didn’t,’ George told him when he had recovered.

  ‘What are you doing here, Sir William?’ Liz spoke in a loud whisper.

  ‘Well, believe it or believe it not, I was waiting for you.’

  ‘How d’you know we’d be here, then?’ Eddie demanded, reappearing from a clump of foliage.

  ‘I overheard an unpleasant gentleman talking to my assistant Mr Berry. I gathered several things from their conversation. One of those was that the three of you were on the run, sought after by Lorimore’s thugs.’

  ‘Lorimore – so we’re sure he is behind this?’

  ‘Oh yes. Quite sure.’

  ‘But how did you know we were here?’ Liz asked.

  Sir William smiled. ‘It seemed the most likely place.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because, Mr Archer, it is the best place to gather clues and evidence, and the last place that Lorimore would expect to find you. I think we all want answers to the various questions that Lorimore’s behaviour and actions have posed. This seems the most likely place to discover those answers.’

  Eddie only half listened while between them George and Liz explained to Sir William what had happened since that morning. He stared into the fog, trying to make out details of the house.

  Last time he was here – was it only last night? – there had been a guard patrolling with a shotgun. But tonight there was no sign of him – perhaps he had been sent to look for Eddie and the others. That would be a hoot, what with them all right here where the guard should have been.

  But Eddie kept a careful watch in case the man was simply taking
a break or lingering round the other side of the house. His ears strained to catch the telltale sound of boots on gravel.

  What he did hear was the sound of voices. They drifted faintly through the fog. Eddie strained to hear, leaning forward. They seemed to be coming from the house – voices, moving now across the lawn. He could make out the vaguest of shadows through the heavy air.

  Behind him, the others were discussing what they should do next. Eddie waved at them to be quiet.

  ‘What is it?’ Sir William whispered, crawling forwards to join Eddie at the edge of the small wood.

  ‘People. From the house. I think they’re going to the shed.’

  ‘I wonder what they’re up to,’ George said quietly.

  ‘We won’t find out just by hiding here,’ Liz hissed. ‘Why don’t we go and see?’

  ‘An excellent notion,’ Sir William said quietly. ‘I for one should like to know a lot more about this creature. It sounds fascinating, to say the least. But I would suggest that rather than all four of us trying to get close without being seen, we send one of our party to scout out and report back.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ George said at once, to Eddie’s relief.

  But he could see that Sir William had his hand on George’s arm. ‘I’m sure you would do magnificently, but there may be someone here better suited to the job. Someone who knows exactly where this shed is located. Someone used to creeping about without being noticed and with a good turn of speed should they be spotted. Someone,’ he added, turning to look at Eddie, ‘small.’

  Eddie stared back indignantly. ‘Who you calling small?’

  ‘He’s right,’ Liz said before Sir William could answer. ‘Eddie’s the best person for this.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Just creep over,’ George said, ‘and see what they’re up to over there. Find out what they’re talking about. Then you can come back.’

  Eddie was furious. Why should he be the one to risk his life creeping up on Lorimore’s killers and the monster? ‘No way!’ he protested.

  He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, and turned to find Liz looking down at him. Her eyes were wide and appealing.