The Beast of Seabourne (18 page)

“East along this towpath for half a mile,” Soph's voice said from his arm, speaking out loud for the benefit of the other two.

It was a tranquil little spot, with lush farmland behind them and gently undulating hills ahead. The towpath curved left until eventually they came to a road bridge that arched up and over their heads.

“Take the steps up to the bridge and walk twenty yards north. Chivyon House will be on your right,” Soph's even tone announced.

“Soph's voice is way better than my dad's GPS,” Ruff said.

“Thank you, Ruff,” Soph replied.

Moments later, the trio found themselves at an entrance guarded by a wrought-iron gate. Written in iron letters on brick gateposts was “Chivyon House.” The gate, as well as the ten-foot wall that continued in both directions, was topped with razor wire.

“Certainly likes his privacy, doesn't he?” Ruff said.

A square brass intercom was set into the pillar to the left of the gate. Oz pressed the black button at its centre. There was a
buzz
followed by a
click
, and a brusque-sounding voice answered.

“No milk today. For goodness sake, I left a note.”

Oz said, “Hello? Hello?”

When no one answered, Oz tried the button again.

“I said no milk—”

“Mr Bendle,” Oz interjected. “It's me. Oz Chambers? We talked on the phone, remember?”

“Chambers? Never heard of you,” said the high, tetchy voice. There was a pause and then, “If we did speak on the phone, what are you doing impersonating the milkman?”

“I wasn't. I mean I'm not. I don't know anything about a milkman.”

“Blessed nuisance. I know I left him a note.”

Oz, who felt caught in a conversational plughole that was rapidly sucking him down into its vortex, said slowly, “I spoke to you about a ring, remember?”

“Ah, a ring. Yes, of course,” the voice said and then added, “Why didn't you say so, instead of blathering on about the blasted milkman?”

Oz looked across at Ruff, who was pointing his index finger at his own head and making circular motions with it.

“So, can we come in?”

“Of course. But you must remove your shoes, put on the gowns and masks in the porch area, and wash your hands thoroughly with the antibacterial gel. Do you understand?'

“Uhh, yeah. Okay,” Oz said.

“Gates open,” said the voice. There was a mechanical trundling sound and the heavy iron gates swung open. “Why is it that everyone we seem to meet when we're with you is a Quarter Pounder with extra mayo and pickle short of a Happy Meal?” asked Ruff, shaking his head as they walked along the drive.

“He sounds…crotchety,” Ellie ventured.

“Maybe he is a bit eccentric,” Oz said. “I know he's quite old, but…”

Oz didn't finish what he was about to say. They rounded a bend in the driveway and all three of them stopped in their tracks. The house now revealed to them didn't look anything at all like the houses in the village of Bog Sturgess. It was three times as big, for a start. The walls were of a dark stone, with arched bay windows, elegant chimneys, and high gables, and the whole thing was draped in a green wrapping of Virginia creeper.

“Sugar,” Ellie said.

“Looks like the house in
Gargoyle's Revenge 3
,” Ruff said.

“Oh, wowee,” Ellie said under her breath.

“But it does,” protested Ruff.

“Come on. Let's get this over with,” Oz said and started walking again. When they got to the porch, there was no bell, just an acorn-shaped knocker, but when Oz lifted it, he heard a bell chime from deep within, and the front door buzzed open smoothly to reveal an antechamber. On the floor was a coir mat with the words ME FIRST written on it. This was swiftly followed by two more mats with ME SECOND and NOW TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES as messages. They did exactly as they were told and stood in their socks in front of another door, this one shiny steel, like the door of a lift. On either side, at eye level, were copper antibacterial hand wash dispensers gently hissing with steam, and a sign on the door which read NOW WASH YOUR HANDS. They did as instructed, and the door in front of them whispered open to let them inside. Like the building itself, this wasn't exactly what Oz had expected.

Penwurt was old on the outside and on the inside, but this was far from true here. Despite the gothic exterior, what the trio now saw was more in keeping with an ultramodern hospital than an ancient house. The walls were all white, and the floor was black rubber. A corridor led left to another metal door, next to a shelving unit containing white plastic aprons and elasticated white paper bonnets. On the door was a sign: PLEASE PUT ON APRON AND HAT.

Oz, Ellie, and Ruff exchanged bemused glances, shrugged, and proceeded to dress appropriately. Above the door, a camera lens swivelled. When they were dressed, the door hissed open, and they went into another corridor. This time, one whole wall was clear glass. Through it, they looked into a white-painted room with white plastic furniture, just like Oz had in his garden. On the far wall, three flat-screen TVs played different channels all at once. Against another wall stood a white desk with a laptop and printer. A door led off the room in the third wall, and through it, they glimpsed a steel and white-plastic kitchen.

“This is…different,” Ellie said. Oz couldn't decide if she sounded genuinely interested or anxious. He had no time to ponder because suddenly someone else spoke.

“Thank you for your cooperation. Your host will be with you shortly.”

The voice came from a speaker in the ceiling and sounded exactly like one of those announcements in department-store lifts.

Then, from out of the kitchen area, a man appeared. In keeping with the hospital-like environment, he was wearing blue-and-white-striped pyjamas and white paper shoes. His head looked like a pink billiard ball, devoid of any and all vestiges of eyebrows and eyelashes beneath a glossy dome. He was carrying a glass half-full of something green, which he was drinking through a long straw. Immediately on seeing Ellie, Ruff, and Oz in front of him, he stopped and stared at them.

“Why are there three of you?” he asked in his odd, high-pitched voice.

“These are my friends,” Oz said.

The man snorted and looked cross. “That means three times as many germs in the air.”

“Are you Mr Bendle?” Ellie asked.

“Of course I am,” snapped the man. “Who else would be living here?”

“I don't know,” Ellie said, taken aback by his rudeness.

“Exactly,” said Bendle, his brows beetling belligerently. “You don't know, so why even ask, eh? Who is Chambers?”

“Uh, I am,” Oz said, waving a hand.

“Where is the ring?”

Oz fumbled in his pocket and removed the black ring.

“I will need to examine it,” Bendle said. “Step to your left.”

Oz did as instructed and watched Bendle do the same on the other side of the glass.”

“Here.” Bendle indicated a white plastic box structure built into the glass wall at waist height. “Wipe the ring in the antibacterial cloth and then place it in the ultrasonic sterilizer.”

The lid of the plastic box slid open. Oz followed instructions and, after wiping, placed the ring in a steel bowl. Bendle pressed a button, and the lid of the white box slid shut. There was a hissing noise, and a minute later a lid slid open on the other side of the glass. Bendle put on some surgical gloves and a mask before reaching into the box and taking out the ring. He took it over to the desk, switched on a lamp and put on a pair of elaborate brass goggles, which had an amazing array of lenses bolted onto the sides. He sat, flicking in various lenses as he studied the ring up close. Oz, Ellie, and Ruff stood in silence, exchanging questioning glances for two whole minutes before Bendle lifted up the goggles and turned to Oz.

“Worthless trinket,” he muttered. He got up, walked across to the box, and pressed a switch; two seconds later, the ring appeared on Oz's side.

“Discard your apron in the refuse bin on the other side of the door as you leave,” said Bendle, turning his back on them.

“Wait,” said Oz desperately. This wasn't going at all the way he'd planned. “So, this isn't the ring you were looking for?”

“Are you deaf?” Bendle said, turning back with an irascible scowl. “Of course it isn't. Please leave as quickly as you can.”

“There were others where we found this,” Ellie said.

Bendle tilted his head. “Others?” He peered at them, almost as if he was seeing them for the first time.

“Other rings like this,” Ruff said. “Ceramic rings and… stuff.”

Bendle's eyes widened, and he took a step towards them. “What do you know of the ceramic ring?”

“We know it's a collector's piece,” Oz said.

“It goes without saying it's a collector's piece; otherwise, I would not be interested.” He shook his head. “The agreement still stands. But I will pay no more than the fifty thousand we agreed on. I explained all this to your colleague… What was his name again?”

“Rollins,” said Ellie quickly. Oz threw her a glance. Mentioning the name of the man who had tried to kill him in the basement of Penwurt was a dangerous ploy. Still, if it caught Bendle off-guard…

“Rollins? Rollins?” Bendle's eyes bulged with irritation. “I don't know any Rollins. No…it was Mac something. McClelland. Yes, I explained to McClelland that I would have the money waiting for him. But now you turn up with a piece of junk. I won't be taken for a fool.”

“When exactly did you say this to McClelland?” Oz asked.

“I know the date exactly,” Bendle snapped. “I remember every date. It was Thursday the fourteenth of August, 2008.”

No one spoke, but something was happening to Bendle. The lines on his furrowed brow were deepening by the second.

“How old are you?” he asked in a slow and dubious voice.

“Thirteen,” Oz said.

“You would have been nine when McClelland called. You know nothing at all about him or the ring, do you?” he said, eyes narrowing.

“We know quite a lot about the ring,” Ellie began.

“You're spies,” Bendle said suddenly. “Filthy little meddling spies.”

“No,” Oz said. “Like I said, I live at Penwurt…”

“I have no interest in where you live,” Bendle said. “This has been a complete waste of my time. Leave.” Once again he turned his back on them.

“Good idea,” Ruff said and turned away.

Ellie looked concerned. “Mr Bendle, we're sorry, but we need to find out about the ring. We didn't know you were ill.”

Bendle turned slowly. “Ill? I am not ill.”

“What's all this stuff, then?” Ruff asked, waving a hand over his gown and poking at his paper hat.

“Precautions,” Bendle said in a tone that implied it was completely normal to have hermetically sealed doors in your house and that all guests should decontaminate themselves before talking to you. “Did you know that a thousand species of bacteria live on the human skin alone? You are all walking biological weapons. But I, as you can see, take precautions.”

“This bloke is barking,” whispered Ruff out of the side of his mouth.

“I heard that,” Bendle snapped. “I am not barking. I am merely clean.” He peered at them, his eyes intense. “I can see the germs crawling all over other people's skin. Millions of them moving, waiting to leap onto me…” Bendle suddenly snapped back to himself. “That's why you're here, isn't it? To contaminate me. Get me out of here and into a hospital so that you can get at my collection.”

“No,” Oz said. “We're not here to cheat you or to contaminate you…”

“Doors lock. Gas!” Bendle snapped.

They heard a mechanical
thunk
from the door. Something started hissing above them. Oz's gaze shot upwards. He hadn't noticed the array of copper pipes and brass globes running along the ceiling. A wispy stream of mist was jetting out from thin nozzles on each of the globes.

“It is my own concoction of anaesthetic and chemical sterilizing agents. Works very well on mice and rodents.” Bendle smiled. “Haven't tried it on anything as big as you up until today.” Through the glass, he displayed a brown-toothed smile at them.

“Anaesthetic?' Ruff asked in a panicky voice, his eyes darting between the misty jet and Bendle on the other side of the gas.

“Having you unconscious will give me more time to decide what to do with you,” Bendle said. And the matterof-fact way he said it sent a chill through Oz that was reflected in Ruff and Ellie's faces.

“We have to get out of here,” Ellie said.

Oz could smell something sweet and cloying and sickly as the gas reached his nostrils. Ruff was right. Bendle was barking. Ellie ran to the door and tried to prize it open, but the metal stayed sealed tightly shut.

“Soph,” Oz said urgently. “We need some help here.”

“I deduce that the door is voice-activated. I will mimitate your voice so it matches Bendle's.”

“But what should I say?” Oz said.

“I suggest ‘door open,'” Soph said.

“Open door,” Oz said, and his voice emerged with Bendle's high-pitched tone. Nothing happened.

Ruff had started coughing, and Ellie was crouching low, trying to breathe with the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her mouth as a filter.

“Try ‘door open,'” Ellie said urgently in a muffled voice.

“Door op…” The gas caught in Oz's throat and he began to cough. His eyes were beginning to water badly, too. There must have been something irritating in the gas.

“Come on, Oz,” Ruff urged.

“Okay, okay. Door open! Door open!”

Instantly, the steel doors leading off the corridor hissed open, Oz grabbed Ellie, and they stumbled through with Ruff right behind them. Mercifully, the next corridor was gas-free, but sprinklers immediately went off above them and started coating them with a chemical-smelling liquid. Their paper hats and plastic aprons started to smoke slightly where the liquid fell.