The Death Collector Read online

  ‘That is the question,’ Sir William replied.

  ‘And the answer,’ Liz said, ‘is in the Crystal.’

  Eddie frowned. ‘Does he mean the park? Or the Crystal Palace itself?’

  ‘Just what we were wondering when you arrived,’ George said.

  ‘And I was about to say that I believe it is neither,’ Sir William said. He stood up and walked slowly round the table as he spoke. He tapped his index finger against his chin, deep in thought. ‘Now Sir Henry died soon after that. He had been ill for a while, so that is probably why no one seemed surprised he had to leave early. But we know from this extract that he took something with him to the dinner that evening. Something that would demonstrate in some way the astonishing and astounding information he had to impart. Something that will tell us what it is that Lorimore seeks so desperately to discover.’

  ‘And he says that he lost it,’ George said.

  ‘Not exactly. Because he also says he knows exactly where it is.’

  ‘But if it’s important, why didn’t he go and get it back then,’ Eddie wanted to know.

  ‘Or was he too ill for that?’ Liz suggested.

  Sir William shook his head. ‘He did not retrieve it, because while he knew where it was, it wasn’t possible to get it back. Think – where is he most likely to have accidentally left it?’

  They all thought. And they all reached the answer at the same moment, their faces slowly clearing into realisation. It was Eddie who put it into words:

  ‘It’s still there,’ Eddie said excitedly, ‘whatever it is. The answer lies in the Crystal Palace igu-whatsit-thing.’

  Sir William nodded vehemently. ‘Literally it does. After the meal, the statue was completed. The top was lowered into place, and sealed. The tent around the statue was dismantled and the iguanodon still stands guard in the Park. It still keeps Sir Henry Glick’s secret safe inside. As he himself says: ironic.’

  There was silence for several moments while they all thought about this.

  ‘So what do we do?’ Liz asked at last.

  ‘Why I should think that was obvious. We must go at once to the Crystal Palace, and find out what is hidden inside the iguanodon.’

  Once again, Stephen managed to get a cab within seconds, despite the fact it was now gone midnight. George, Liz and Eddie piled into the carriage. Sir William paused to give instructions to the driver before he squeezed in beside them.

  The driver cracked his whip, and Stephen watched it depart into the lingering shreds of fog. Then he turned and walked back inside the warmth of the Atlantian Club.

  Had he hesitated just a few moments, he might have seen two figures standing in the shadows on the opposite side of the street. One of them turned to the other.

  ‘Mr Blade was right,’ he said. ‘Sir William’s club – obvious place for them to come really.’

  ‘Just luck, that’s all,’ the other replied.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Let’s find Mr Blade, fast as we can. He’ll want to know where they’re headed: the Crystal Palace.’

  Chapter 17

  Mist still hung heavily over the sloping ground of the park. It shimmered and shivered in the light breeze, like a moving blanket of smoke. The grass was wet with dew and the moon struggled to find its way through the thinning clouds. The Crystal Palace stood majestic in the moonlight. Its glass walls glinted and glistened, reflecting pale ghosts of the hazy parkland.

  Sir William led them along one of the paths that swept down the hill and round the Crystal Palace towards the lake. Despite the fact that they were probably the only people in the entire park, they still spoke in hushed whispers.

  ‘Do you know where we’re going, sir?’ George asked.

  ‘It has been a while,’ Sir William admitted, ‘but yes, I think I can recall the way.’

  ‘What are we looking for?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘An iguanodon,’ Liz told him. ‘A dinosaur.’

  ‘What’s it look like?’

  ‘I expect you’ll know it when you see it,’ George replied.

  ‘Big and lizard-like,’ Liz said. ‘Remember?’

  Eddie did remember. ‘And it’s a statue, right? And somehow we have to get inside it?’

  Sir William paused. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘You know I hadn’t really considered that. I wonder how we can get it open.’

  ‘It depends how the thing is put together,’ George said. ‘We may need to come back with tools.’

  ‘Or we could smash our way in,’ Eddie suggested.

  ‘With our fists?’ Liz said. ‘What’s it made of, this statue?’

  Sir William led them off the path now, over the wet grass and into a thicker patch of mist. ‘Cast iron, brick, stone …’ His voice faded with him into the night. Eddie and the others hastened after him.

  ‘We won’t need tools,’ Eddie muttered to George. ‘We’ll need a gang of navvies.’

  The ground rose, disappearing into the mist. They were skirting a small lake when Eddie heard the noises. The bank was steep and the grass was slippery, so they were all concentrating on keeping their balance.

  ‘It’s just along here somewhere, I feel sure,’ Sir William called back to them.

  But Eddie had stopped. ‘What’s that?’

  They all stopped and listened. The sound was muffled by the heavy air, but in the silence they could all hear it – the distant sound of people talking, of undergrowth and branches being forced aside.

  ‘They’re looking for us,’ Eddie knew instinctively.

  ‘We can’t be sure of that,’ George replied quietly.

  ‘Why else would they be here?’ Eddie said. ‘In the middle of the night?’

  ‘It does seem likely that somehow we have been traced or followed,’ Sir William admitted. They were all talking in hushed tones now.

  ‘Then let’s get moving,’ Liz whispered.

  They hurried on along the bank for several minutes, and it seemed – to Eddie’s relief – that the voices and sounds receded into the night behind them. After a while, Sir William stopped, pointing up the steep slope. A large dark shape loomed up above them, barely more than a charcoal silhouette in the mist that rose from the lake beside them.

  ‘Ah, here we are.’ Sir William stepped aside, at the base of the rocky outcrop. Above him, through the mist, a shape was forming – gaining substance as Eddie got closer. A scaly, reptilian head thrust out of the gloom. A vicious spiked horn protruded from the creature’s nose, and large glassy eyes regarded Eddie suspiciously.

  ‘The monster!’ Eddie gasped.

  ‘What? Oh nonsense,’ Sir William told him. ‘It’s just the statue of an iguanodon. And not terribly accurate at that, from what we now know. The iguanodon was a dinosaur that lived on our Earth many years ago, Eddie. Despite what we have seen tonight, or think we have seen, the last dinosaurs became extinct long, long ago.’ He paused to examine the monstrous head, towering above him, glistening with condensation.

  Sir William walked slowly round the statue, tapping at its side, its belly, its back with his cane. ‘Yes, here, I think,’ he decided. He was kneeling at the back of the creature, almost hidden in the undergrowth that sprawled out on to the rock. ‘Bring that stone, will you?’ he said to George, gesturing to a large, heavy lump of rock lying at the base of the outcrop.

  ‘We don’t have long,’ George said as he picked it up.

  ‘They’ll hear us trying to break in,’ Liz pointed out.

  Sir William suggested that George use the heavy chunk of rock to try to break through the underbelly of the statue. ‘Here, you see?’ he pointed out the spot to George. ‘You can feel where the metal is worn slightly smooth, and there is a joint where the plates do not quite meet. The elements have begun to take their toll.’

  ‘Let’s get a move on then,’ Eddie said. The cold was getting to him now. He had no jacket and the damp mist had eaten into his clothing so that he was shrouded in a chilly aura.

  The first blow echoed metallically rou
nd the park, bouncing back from beyond the lake. The faint sounds of the distant search stopped at once. Then they started again, immediately louder and closer.

  ‘Let’s hope it takes them a while to get a bearing on us,’ Sir William said as George laid into the underbelly of the beast with renewed urgency and vigour.

  ‘The echo may help,’ Liz said, between blows.

  Eddie was stamping his feet to try to keep warm. ‘We might have to leg it,’ he said.

  ‘It is possible we were followed from the club,’ Sir William said. ‘So if we do have to make a run for it, and we get separated, then I suggest we meet back at the British Museum. It should be empty by now. They will have let poor old Berry go home to his family once they discovered where we were.’

  The next blow made a different sound – cracked and discordant.

  ‘I felt it give,’ George said excitedly. ‘I think it’s going.’

  After several more blows, George set down the rock and worked at the ragged metal with his bare hands. It had torn along the joint and he managed to wrench a whole plate of metal free, revealing a dark opening in the underside of the statue. ‘I can get my arm right inside,’ he said. ‘It is hollow.’

  ‘Excellent, excellent.’ Sir William clapped his hands together in delight. ‘Can you feel anything?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘We shall have to get right inside to search,’ Liz said. ‘Or,’ she added, turning pointedly towards Eddie, ‘someone will.’

  ‘No way,’ Eddie said at once. ‘Really no way. At all. Not ever.’

  George had emerged from under the statue. He was listening carefully, head cocked to one side. ‘They must have heard the noise. I think they’re coming.’

  ‘We can’t just leave,’ Liz said desperately. ‘Not now.’

  ‘How big is the hole?’ Sir William demanded. ‘Maybe I can –’

  ‘You can’t,’ George told him.

  Now they could hear running feet, trampling through branches and long grass. Shouts of anger and elation as the hunters found their trail.

  ‘We’ve got about half a minute,’ George hissed. ‘At the most.’

  Everyone was looking at Eddie. His arms were folded and his expression was set. He stared back at them. ‘Half a minute,’ he muttered. ‘Oh give us a leg up, will you?’

  ‘What am I looking for?’ he asked as he scraped and scrambled through the jagged tear in the statue.

  ‘I am afraid I really don’t know,’ Sir William whispered.

  Eddie stifled a cry of pain as his knee caught on a curl of sharp metal. He slumped forward into the darkness, his every move echoing hollowly round the black interior of the creature. The belly of the beast. Slowly and carefully he crawled forward. There were bracing struts – like roof girders – running round the inside of the statue. Heavy, sharp bolts held them in place. They were painful when you crawled over them, as Eddie quickly found.

  ‘Anything?’ Liz’s voice hissed up through the hole.

  ‘No,’ he hissed back. He reckoned he had crawled round a good part of the interior by now and found nothing inside it at all that was not part of the structure.

  Then a shout – not a voice Eddie recognised. ‘They’re here!’

  ‘Oh corks!’ he heard George exclaim.

  Then Sir William’s urgent: ‘See you back at the Museum, Eddie. We’ll try to lead them away. Good hunting.’

  ‘Get Mr Blade,’ the voice shouted again, so close that Eddie thought it might be inside the statue with him. Running feet, the clatter of pursuit. Eddie lay as still as he could, not daring to move, not daring even to breathe.

  After what seemed for ever, he turned round carefully, staring into the close blackness in the hope of making out the hole where he had come in. But he could see nothing.

  His hand touched something. Something hard and round and heavy. It rolled away from him, sounding like a large glass marble inside a tin can. The noise was louder than thunder in the confined space.

  ‘What was that?’ said a voice that sounded uncomfortably close. ‘Where did that come from?’

  Eddie’s hand found the stone again – it was about the size of an orange, and he lifted it carefully, gently, silently. The only weapon he had. The moon must have broken through the clouds again, for now he could see the uneven hole in the floor about four feet in front of him.

  And as he watched and held his breath and grasped the stone tightly, first a large hand, then a whole arm reached in through the hole. Searching, feeling its way towards Eddie as he sat and shivered in the darkness.

  Chapter 18

  They soon lost their pursuers in the dark, the voices and the sounds of Lorimore’s men falling behind.

  ‘Let’s hope they don’t much wonder what we were doing,’ Sir William said quietly. ‘We don’t want them examining the statue too closely or they will uncover poor Eddie.’

  ‘You think that’s likely?’ Liz asked, concerned.

  ‘I doubt they’re clever enough to realise the significance, my dear.’

  They moved as quickly and quietly as they could through the misty night. Sir William led them towards the back gate of the park. With luck it would not be guarded. The path sloped upwards, past the lake, and before long, a dark shape loomed out of the mist ahead.

  ‘Is that the gates?’ Liz wondered.

  ‘Looks more like another statue,’ George said, the apprehension heavy in his voice.

  As they edged cautiously closer, George could see that it was a figure – a large man, stretching out as if it was waiting to enfold them all in an enormous bear hug. A sudden gust of wind scattered the mist, and the moon shone down for the briefest of moments before the clouds could regroup.

  But in that moment they could see the massive ape of a man stood waiting for them at the top of the slope. His face was scarred and pockmarked, and several days’ growth of dark stubble added to the ape-like image. His eyes were deep-set and black as tar. With an inhuman roar he leaped down the slope towards them.

  George moved quicker than even he would have thought possible. The huge man had hurled himself at Sir William, but George got there first, intercepting the man. The two of them slammed together and rolled down the slope. George was tall not broad, but sinewy. He was no match for the enormous figure that rolled him aside and started back up the slope. George grabbed at his legs, dragging him down. But the man swatted him away like an annoying insect. George rolled with the blow, stumbled, and pulled himself painfully back to his feet.

  Liz was staring, shouting anxiously to George to see if he was all right. Sir William looked on with a mixture of anxiety and interest at the bear of a man who was now lumbering towards him. As he came closer, Sir William stepped down to meet him, raising his cane. He whipped it down on the man’s head, so hard that George heard the crack of the splintering wood.

  The man seemed hardly to notice. He gave a grunt of annoyance, but did not even slow down. Three more steps and he would be on Sir William. His hands were outstretched ready to snap the old man in two like a dead branch.

  Without even thinking about it, George launched himself again at the ape-like man who was now reaching for Sir William.

  The force of the impact as George crashed into him sent the man stumbling sideways. George found himself slipping away down the bank, and collided with something heavy and jagged and painful. A lump of rock.

  George was back on his feet now, hefting up the rock. He stumbled once more towards the attacker who was pulling himself slowly to his knees. But before George got there, Liz stepped smartly forwards and kicked the man hard under the chin. His head snapped back and he groaned in pain and anger. But his hand whipped up and grabbed Liz’s foot – twisting and pulling so that she slipped to the ground with a cry.

  The man was on his feet again now, his hands clasped together as if he held a sword. He was poised, ready to bring his double fist smashing down on Liz’s head.

  Sir William barged into the massive figure, s
houlder down, in an effort to knock him off balance. But he might as well have run into a brick wall. He glanced off, stumbled, and fell to the ground.

  He was too far away to reach Liz. But George brought his arms up above his head, and hurled the large, heavy lump of rock. It caught the assailant in the chest, the force of the impact forcing him to take several steps backwards. Liz scrambled rapidly out of reach, the rock thudding to the ground where she had been only seconds before.

  ‘Sorry,’ George gasped as he pulled himself up the slope. He stooped down beside Liz, not to check she was all right, but to lift the heavy lump of stone once again.

  But the ape man was too quick. With a desperate effort, Sir William scrambled forwards, rolling into the man’s legs. He grabbed and pulled, scrabbled and was somehow able to slow the man just enough for George to stagger back out of the way, the rock again clutched to his chest.

  As the man started to run heavily and ponderously straight at George, Sir William grabbed his bent cane and threw it like a spear between the man’s legs. Caught between one leg and the other, the cane shattered with a bullet-like crack.

  But it had done its job. The man stumbled. Off balance, and heading down the steep hill, he had to run faster to prevent himself from falling. George’s eyes widened as he saw the giant figure hurtling towards him.

  Then a ball of crinoline and limbs rolled itself in front of the attacker – who stumbled, tripped, crashed forwards over the top of Liz and thumped massively into the ground, skidding muddily down the slope to come to a halt face-down at George’s feet.

  Without a word, without thinking, George smashed the rock down on the back of the man’s head. But incredibly, he heard the man cry out. Slowly but inexorably he was stumbling back to his feet.

  ‘Again!’ Sir William cried.

  George did not need telling twice, and smashed it down again on the man’s head. And again.

  Eventually, the figure was still. George let the rock fall to the ground, before collapsing exhausted to his knees beside it.