The Death Collector

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 at 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.

‘Please,’ she said softly, ‘we need your help, Eddie.’

Eddie crept towards Lorimore’s men. The problem was, that if he was close enough to see them clearly, then they could see him. He edged as close as he dared — until their voices were audible through the fog. Then he dropped to the ground and crawled slowly forwards.

There were four men. He could already tell that one of them was Blade. He was talking to a tall, spindly figure who seemed to be directing them — Lorimore himself, Eddie guessed. The other two were further off, standing by the shed. The door, Eddie saw, was open. With the figures outside to show how big it really was, the building looked more like a coach house.

‘It’s gone down the tunnel,’ one of them said. ‘But it’s on its way back now.’

‘It comes when I call,’ Lorimore said in his high-pitched whine. He sounded smug and self-important.

‘Expecting to be fed, probably,’ Blade replied. ‘It’ll be a bit agitated after all the excitement.’ Something was draped over his arm, but Eddie could not make out what it was. ‘You sure this will work, sir?’ Blade asked.

‘Your incompetence has left us few options, Mr Blade,’ Lorimore replied caustically. ‘But the olfactory systems remain preserved and should function, at least well enough for our purposes. The idiot’s brain I put in it should manage that. You say yourself that you believe the boy was in the street outside, possibly even in the grounds when you retrieved Wilkes. Find the boy and we find his friends. Find his friends and we find what remains of Glick’s last diary. Or at the very least someone who can apprise us of its contents.’

Blade nodded, but if he spoke the sound of his voice was drowned out by the roar from the open shed behind him. It was a sound that Eddie had heard several times before. The fog round the shed door swirled and thickened as smoke or perhaps steam billowed out. Slowly, terrifyingly, the grotesque shape of the creature’s head appeared as if from the ground inside the shed. The monster was hauling itself out of a huge pit that was hidden inside the building.

Eddie could see now that two men were standing either side, holding heavy chains that reached up and round the creature’s neck as it emerged into the open. Its head swung to and fro as if it was sniffing the air, as if it was searching for food.

‘Gently now,’ Lorimore said. His voice was soft as if he was talking to a child. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, my beauty. Mr Blade has a small task for you to perform.’ He turned to the big man. ‘Mr Blade?’

Blade handed him the thing that had been draped over his arm. As Lorimore took it and opened it, Eddie could see through the gusting smoke that it was a jacket. Lorimore held it out at arm’s length.

After a moment, the monster’s head dipped down. Steam erupted from its nostrils. It nudged the jacket with its nose, teeth glinting in the suffuse light.

‘Fetch,’ Blade said, and laughed. His men laughed too, until Lorimore turned on them.

‘That’s enough,’ he said. ‘It has the scent. Lead it to the gates and let it pick up the trail there.’

‘What if it’s seen?’ Blade wondered.

‘There won’t be many people out in this. And those who are won’t be certain. They will just see shapes and shadows, unless they get very close. And if they do …’ Lorimore laughed now — a nasal whine of amusement.

But Eddie hardly heard. He was staring at the jacket, now lying discarded on the ground at Lorimore’s feet as the smoke and steam swirled round it. The jacket that the monster had sniffed at to get the scent of its prey.

Eddie’s jacket.

In front of him, the monster was lowering its head to sniff at it again. Eddie shuddered as he remembered the creature’s own oily, acrid smell. He sniffed, expecting to catch a whiff of it again. But there was nothing. Just the bitter, smut-filled smell of the smog.

The creature slowly raised its head and swung round. Towards Eddie. Towards the scent it was picking up on the breeze. It looked like an enormous skeleton, papered over with thin metal plates. Metal and bone glinted through the mist that shrouded it.

With a colossal roar and the sudden snap of teeth, the creature lunged. One of the men was swept off his feet as the chain went tight. The other fell backwards, the chain wrenched from his grasp. Blade leapt back, pulling Lorimore with him.

But Lorimore seemed elated. ‘It has the scent!’ he shouted with delight. ‘Already. Just think how much more efficient my next prototype will be.’

‘Prototypes again,’ Eddie mumbled, bracing himself ready to run.

‘That vermin must have been here that night, in the grounds,’ Lorimore was saying to Blade. ‘Wait until I see Higgins again — he was supposed to be keeping guard. When I catch up with him …’

Eddie did not wait to hear what would happen to Higgins. He was already scrambling to his feet and running for all he was worth back towards the wood and his friends.

Behind him, claws slashed through the foggy air as the monster roared in triumph. The ground shook as it stamped its way towards Eddie.