Mumbersons and The Blood Secret, The (11 page)

The police car had stopped at the main entrance. The gates began to open of their own accord, without anyone using an access card. And as the car went through the opening, an extraordinary thing happened. The car changed colour from white to green, and all the police markings slid off and vanished. It was a perfectly ordinary Holden Commodore again.

‘There must have been a time limit on the spell,’ said Olivia. She seemed not at all surprised at what had happened. ‘That’ll be why they were in such a hurry.’ Billy and his grandmother were still staring open-mouthed, wondering if what they’d seen
had
actually happened.

‘Drive round the right side of the wall, Grandma,’ said Billy. ‘We need to see where they’re taking Granddad.’

‘And your
Dad
,’ said Olivia. Stevedore woofed loudly and enthusiastically, even though Jerry had called him a smelly mutt earlier on.

‘Is there another gate?’ asked Mrs Mumberson. ‘I can’t see one.’

‘We have to go through a special door, Grandma. But you’ll be too big to get through it.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’ said Mrs Mumberson. ‘I can’t let you go in there by yourselves. What am
I
going to do?’

‘You’re our getaway car,’ said Olivia. That didn’t make Mrs Mumberson any happier.

They reached the clump of oaks with their skirt of bushes. Mrs Mumberson parked as near as she could without getting in the way of passing traffic. Olivia gave her the cellphone. ‘You’ll need this in case we have to contact you.’

Mrs Mumberson sighed. ‘I hope I can remember what you taught me.’

Billy and Olivia leapt out of the car and scrambled through the bushes again. They heard Mrs Mumberson shout, ‘Be careful, children!’ They pushed at the door...and pushed again. It wouldn’t open. ‘What’s happened?’ said Olivia.

‘They must have remembered it was here,’ said Billy. ‘Now what?’ He bashed at the door with his feet, hoping that it might suddenly move. It didn’t. ‘We’ll have to climb over the wall, then,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to risk being seen.’

Olivia was up and away in a moment, pushing back through the bushes. ‘Mrs Mumberson!’ she shouted, ‘can you move the car right up against the wall? We’re going to climb over.’ Mrs Mumberson protested, but the children persuaded her it was the only way they were going to get in. Billy wasn’t too sure his father would appreciate him climbing on the car, but there were more important things at stake here.

Mrs Mumberson backed the car up then drove forward carefully, hoping she wouldn’t scratch Jerry’s shiny Fiesta. She parked as close as she could to the wall. Stevedore leapt out and had to be told to get back in.

‘I don’t know why I’m letting you do this,’ said Mrs Mumberson. ‘I hope it’s not going to end in disaster.’ She helped the children up onto the car because Olivia kept sliding off when she tried on her own.

Once the children were balanced on the top of the car, there was nothing more Mrs Mumberson could do except watch and hope they didn’t fall and break something. Stevedore stood on the car seat with his head out the window panting furiously.

Billy leant forward until he could hold onto the top of the wall, which, though it was made of bricks, was rounded and mostly smooth. He put one leg over. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to manage from there. It was two or three metres to the ground on the other side. His heart was beating fast, and he felt sick in his stomach. ‘Hurry up, Billy!’ shouted Olivia. He took a deep breath, spread himself out along the wall, held on tight and slid his other leg over. He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t break a leg. Or both legs.

He let go, slithering down the wall - grazing his knees in the process - and tumbled into a heap at the bottom. When he stood up, he seemed to be intact, though his rear end was sore.

Olivia was already on the top of the wall, ready to slide down. She was shorter than Billy and before he could worry that she might hurt herself, she was on the ground - legs and arms and body all mixed up. Two seconds later she was up and running towards the building.

This time they went straight round the front, because it seemed unlikely Lavitch was guarding the door if he was also trying to keep an eye on three people at once; Slaggard didn’t look as though he’d stop a feather blowing away.

It was just as well they didn’t go straight through the revolving doors. As they arrived a procession came down the stairs inside. At its head was Venska. Behind her were Lavitch and Slaggard, no longer in the police uniforms. They were leading both the Mumbersons and Adiblo by a long cord attached to more cords wrapped around the trunk and arms of the three men. ‘They’re prisoners!’ whispered Billy. Behind them came several of the Which Sisters in their suits, diamonds sparkling from earrings, pendants and brooches in the late afternoon sun shining through the low windows.

Venska led everyone towards a corridor off to the left of the stairs. ‘We need to follow them,’ said Olivia, ready to spring through the revolving doors.

But before she could do so, a voice spoke behind them, making them jump. A woman was standing there, a woman they recognised. It was Ligula, the Sister who’d shouted at Venska. Her earrings jangled in the breeze.

Another one of the Sisters stood beside her, a wand ready in her hand.

‘Our guests have arrived, Necessita,’ said Ligula. She grabbed Billy so tightly by the front of his shirt that he could neither speak nor wriggle free. Her grip was stronger than Lavitch’s had been, which gave Billy a shock.

At the same time, Necessita had taken hold of Olivia, who struggled like a fish on a hook. It didn’t help in the slightest.

Ligula adroitly flicked her wand out of her sleeve, caught it in her free hand, and waved it at the revolving doors. The doors - which were as solid as you’d expect any oak-framed revolving doors would be - warped and twisted for a moment then flattened out into two large glass sliding doors, which shuddered before shooting open with a clunk. The Sisters shoved the children through the open space. The doors instantly shut behind them, and then, with what seemed a bit of an effort, turned back into solid revolving doors again.

‘Don’t even think about running away,’ said Ligula.

Olivia tried to kick Necessita, but with a snigger she skipped out of the way, and gave Olivia a sharp tap on her head with her wand. The tap stung because sparks flew out of the end of the wand.

‘Stop showing off, Necessita!’ said Ligula. Billy thought it was hardly showing off on Necessita’s part after Ligula had turned the revolving doors into sliding ones.

‘We knew you were witches all along,’ said Olivia, stretching the truth somewhat, and wishing she could rub her head where she’d been hit.

‘Really?’ said Ligula, not believing her in the slightest. By this time the two witches were pushing them along the same corridor Venska had led her procession down. ‘Forget the whizz-bang electronics your father and his fellow-workers play around with,’ said Ligula. ‘You’re going to see what’s really important about this Factory.’

‘Down in the dungeon,’ said Necessita, showing her teeth .

‘Be quiet, Necessita. Always have to put your oar in, don’t you?’

They came to a stretch of wall between two doors on which there was nothing but a large calendar with a picture of a diamond ring, a ring rather like the one Venska wore. The calendar was well out of date, Billy noticed, which seemed odd for a Factory that was known for its efficiency and was proud of its reputation.

It turned out to be not quite what it seemed. Ligula waved her wand at the calendar. First it stretched out until it was as wide as a door, and then it stretched up and down until it actually was a door. It looked nothing like the modern doors on either side of it; it had a wooden frame and a large wooden doorknob. Neither of the witches touched the doorknob, however, because the door opened inwards by itself. Inside it was dark - at least until Ligula waved her wand again and old-fashioned gas lights sputtered and gradually brightened. They made a hissing noise, and left a smell in the already stale air that made the children’s teeth taste funny.

There was a narrow stone landing inside the door, about a metre long. Stone steps, worn smooth by thousands of feet, led down into the darkness. Because of the faint lighting, it was impossible to see how far down.

Ligula pushed the children ahead of her. They struggled not to slip and tumble; it was difficult to keep their balance with the witches shoving them every few seconds. The further down they went the more lights appeared, flickering on, hissing, brightening. Beyond their meagre light it was very dark. Billy thought he heard Olivia sniffle, though it didn’t seem likely.

Finally their long descent came to an end. A huge door barred them from going any further. Necessita took a long metal key out of her pocket, and unlocked the door. The lock worked smoothly, but the hinges groaned with the massive weight. The door swung wearily aside. Necessita locked it after they’d gone through, and pocketed the key again.

The witches, keeping a tight hold on Billy and Olivia, pushed them into an immense, windowless room, lit by hundreds of dusty candelabra hung high above. The children drew in their breaths. The ceiling was so far above them it could hardly be seen in the dim light. The room was so long it appeared to have no end. It might have been as long as a football field; it was certainly as wide. There was a dank smell, because the stones the room was built from were not only very old, but had been underground for centuries.

As the children’s eyes grew accustomed to the weak light, they saw stains where water had dripped down and dried, and fungi or moss had grown. There was a great deal of rubble in one part of the room, where part of the wall had broken away and shattered on the floor. Opposite this were enormous tables and intricately-carved thrones that stood in a higgledy-piggeldy fashion as though kings and queens had fled in a great hurry. Elsewhere huge ragged curtains hung from floor to ceiling, curtains of such weight that if they fell they’d crush you. Chains, dull and tarnished, even rusty, hung from other parts of the walls. Billy didn’t like to think what they’d been used for.

‘Billy! Olivia!’ Jerry was shouting at them. ‘What are you doing here?’ He was standing against a wall to their left, some distance away, along with Mr Mumberson and Adiblo. The ends of the cords that encircled their arms and chests were now looped and tied through some of the chains fitted into the wall. None of the men could move more than a few feet at a time. An old wooden bench stood under the rings; this allowed the prisoners to sit, but that meant the cords around them tightened further.

‘Dad!’ Billy shouted back. He didn’t know what else to say.

Ligula yanked him. ‘Hold your tongue!’ He stumbled backwards against her, and the hairs on his neck stood up straight in surprise.

Several metres in front of him were Venska, Metabola and the other Which Sisters, along with Lavitch. In front of the group was a hospital bed on wheels like the one that had been in the Sick Bay. And a trolley that held two syringes, the first like the one Slaggard had used the night before. The other one, however, had a larger needle. There were also several vials of various sizes, and some large flat, rectangular plastic bags that looked like they’d had the air sucked out of them.

Two other Sisters marched over to take hold of Olivia. They brought her near the group, while Ligula and Necessita dragged Billy towards the hospital bed. Lavitch once more picked him up and threw him onto it. This time he tied him down with straps attached to the bed, buckling them tight around him. Billy was completely pinned down. ‘Dad!’ he shouted, but his father, though he called back, and pulled on the cords, wasn’t able to help.

Slaggard had been invisible up till now - perhaps he’d been standing behind Metabola, the plump witch. He appeared, and rolled up Billy’s sleeve. As soon as he’d wrapped the tourniquet around his upper arm he dabbed some iodine on, cleaned that off with cotton wool (he seemed to be better at this job than barbering), took a syringe, fitted a capsule on the end opposite the needle, and made sure it was secure.

‘No escape this time, young man,’ said Venska, her eyes focusing on Slaggard’s every move.

‘
No
escape,’ repeated Ligula, leaning over him, as though she thought she might need to hold him down too.

After checking that he had a second capsule ready in his tray, Slaggard held Billy’s arm in a tight grip. ‘Make sure he stays still, Lavitch,’ he said. Lavitch pressed down heavily on Billy, so that he struggled to breathe.

Slaggard tapped on Billy’s arm with his finger, looking for the vein in the crook of his elbow, then neatly punctured his skin with the needle. Blood rapidly filled the capsule. He removed the first one and fitted a second, while the needle was still in Billy’s arm. Billy was surprised that it didn’t hurt much. Lavitch’s strong arms pressing down on him hurt a good deal more.

‘What are you going to do with my blood?’ he managed to ask.

‘We can tell you now - in fact we could have told you last time, but you were in rather a hurry to get away,’ said Venska. Ligula laughed. Her laugh was like a scary noise you hear in the night and can’t quite identify.

Slaggard filled the second capsule with Billy’s blood, then removed the smaller needle from his arm. He fitted the larger needle to a hollow tube attached to the plastic bag.