The Beast of Seabourne (33 page)

Over breakfast on Sunday morning, Ruff was insufferable.

“Ask me anything. Go on, anything.”

“All right,” Ellie said, looking off into space for a moment, thinking. “How do you make an electromagnet stronger?”

Ruff sat up and recited, “By adding more turns to the coil of wire around an iron core. By increasing the current through the coil.” He grinned smugly at them both and proceeded to win every hand of physics snap. He was in an excellent mood as they walked through the streets to People's Park for a kickabout at ten o'clock. At eleven, Ruff was once again going to help his dad build a patio (“last one before Easter, he says,”), while Ellie had promised to help her mum with Sunday lunch, since Macy was due back that morning.

Ellie's mum picked them up on the dot, leaving Oz with most of the day to finish his homework and do just a bit more revision for the science test. Even though he had all day, he struggled to concentrate, because all he could really think about were McClelland and Caleb.

At long last, seven o'clock came around to find Oz sitting in his bedroom, waiting for the video link. It was five past when finally his laptop signalled an incoming call. A second later, he was looking at a slightly jerky image of Caleb Jones, sporting a thicker beard than his usual stubble, and looking tanned and windswept.

“Oz,” Caleb said, nodding a terse greeting. “Your message yesterday sounded urgent. Is there a problem?”

Oz swallowed. This was not going to be easy, because no matter how he had played it in his head, it was going to sound as if he suspected Caleb of something.

“Yeah, umm, since you've been away, a lot of really weird stuff's been happening. Why is it you're in Bulgaria, again?”

“Good question,” Caleb said with a sigh. “I'm here because Madely pulled out at the last minute due to appendicitis and I was volunteered by Heeps. It's a two-week exchange lecture tour of Bulgarian universities, which involves visiting several archaeological digs. Some of them are pretty remote, like the one I've been to today. And the hotel is a joke—cold showers, cold soup and baklava for supper.”

“Sounds great,” Oz said weakly.

“So, what's so urgent, Oz?” Caleb asked in a concerned but tired voice.

“We, that is, Ellie, Ruff, and me, spoke to Mr Eldred, and he told us about the ring and pointed us at this chap called Bendle. We went to see him and…well, he's a bit strange. We didn't get on too well, but he did accidentally sort of give us a name. Hamish McClelland.”

It wasn't easy to judge expressions via the webcam, but Oz felt sure he saw Caleb physically flinch on hearing McClelland's name. There was a long pause, and when it became obvious that Caleb wasn't going to say anything, Oz pressed on.

“It was on the news last week that Bendle's house was burgled and he was…he was sort of attacked. If being dumped up to your neck in manure can be called an attack. We got Soph onto it, and she's been able to access the university database, and she found this.”

Oz dropped the image Soph had found into the messaging software's drop box and sent it over. He waited in silence for Caleb to open the file. Oz watched his hand come up and nervously start fingering his beard, and saw quite clearly that those fingers were trembling. Caleb didn't seem able to tear his eyes away from the photo for a very long time. Finally, when he did look up, his face appeared oddly pale under the tan.

“How much do you know?” Caleb said slowly.

“Bendle told us he was expecting McClelland to deliver something. We know that he went missing a few days after arranging to meet with Bendle, and we know he didn't keep that appointment. We think that what McClelland had was the ceramic ring.”

Caleb nodded. It was the slightest of movements, but it was enough. He kept his eyes away from Oz's, and when he spoke, his voice sounded different, quavering with barely restrained emotion. “McClelland was Obex, too.” He let out a small snort and shook his head. “You need to understand what that means, Oz. In Squire Worthy's day, when ignorance and superstition were rife, Obex did really mean something, because the artefacts were tangible. It was kept alive by groups of believers, people like my father who wanted something mysterious to believe in. But the artefacts disappeared for so long that, eventually, Obex fizzled out. Now it's just an underground organization, researchers, people who love a good mystery, all linked together by the Internet. And Seabourne attracts them like a flame attracts moths. McClelland was a brilliant researcher, kept his eyes out for anything strange or unusual on the web, local newspapers, you name it. It was he who picked up on a story about a woman who'd had some quarry rocks delivered for her garden. There was tons of the stuff, but in amongst the rubble was a black ring. It made the local press, and a jeweller valued the ring's worth at five pounds. After all, it wasn't made of any precious metal, just some black stone.” Caleb's laugh sounded like a pebble ricocheting off the walls of a bottomless well.

“Five pounds. Can you believe it? So Hamish made the trip—up near Sedbergh in Cumbria, I think—and offered her fifty pounds for it. Of course, we couldn't be certain that it was the ceramic ring, because we had little to compare it with. But there were markings.” His voice dropped lower still. “Markings similar to the ones that are on the pebble.”

His eyes strayed away to one side of the screen, and Oz knew he was looking at the photograph again.

“So, what happened between McClelland and Bendle?” Oz asked after a while.

On hearing the question, Caleb came back to himself somewhat. “You've met him. Some call him eccentric; others would say that he's a man living on the very edge of sanity. Bendle was lying to you. He monitored everything as well, but he got to the woman after Hamish did. So, he tracked Hamish down and made him an offer. A very good offer. More money than a third-year history and archaeology student could ever hope to see. But Hamish said no.”

“So, it wasn't McClelland that went to Bendle; it was the other way around?”

Caleb nodded solemnly. “I wanted Hamish to keep the ring under lock and key in the university, but he was young. He wanted to cherish it. Enjoy it for a short while. Without telling me, he took it with him on a hiking trip to the Black Mountains in Wales. Maybe he just wanted to have it near him, maybe he wanted to see if he could use it, even, away from prying eyes…” Caleb shook his head. “What happened there is anyone's guess, but I have my own theories.”

“What theories?”

Oz suddenly noticed how quiet the house had become. There was little Sunday-night traffic outside, and with the darkness had come a dead stillness, punctured only by the occasional knocking of the pipes in the ancient plumbing.

“Hamish was Scottish,” Caleb went on. “He'd spent his life walking on the moors and mountains of Scotland. After coming down south, he'd fallen in love with the hills of Wales, and the Black Mountains were one of his favourite places. He was an experienced orienteer and climber.” Caleb paused before adding in a low voice, “The chances of him getting lost were pretty slim.”

“I don't understand.”

“Neither do I. Not fully. But I don't think his disappearance was a complete accident, Oz.”

Oz stared at Caleb. “And the ring?”

“Disappeared. Like Hamish.”

There was a long beat of silence. Oz could just about hear the low drone of the TV from downstairs if he listened intently, but he gathered himself and asked the question that needed to be asked.

“So…why didn't you tell us all this?”

“I…” Caleb looked suddenly washed out, a husk of his previous self. “It's not something I'm particularly proud of, Oz. I let Hamish down. I let his pride and conceit get the better of him. I should have made sure the ring was safe. I should have protected it.”

“But you couldn't have known…”

“It was my job to know,” Caleb snapped. “Therefore, I should have known.” He half-turned away and then muttered through clenched teeth. “I should have known.”

Oz waited for a few moments, trying his best to understand what all this meant. Finally, he took the initiative and told Caleb the rest of what he, Ellie, and Ruff had worked out, ending up with their uncomfortable theory on why Bendle was attacked.

“We think Gerber's been spying on us. He's given us lab coats that can monitor what we say. We don't know how much he knows, but we think he found out about Bendle through us.”

Caleb stared back at him from the laptop screen with a kind of dull horror in his eyes.

“Oz, this business with Bendle, you need to let it drop. It's too dangerous. Gerber's too dangerous.”

“I can't. Let it drop, I mean. There's more.”

“What do you mean, more?”

“Something's attacking the people I don't like and everyone thinks it's me. They think I'm the Beast of Seabourne.”

“The Beast of Seabourne,” Caleb said, with a mixture of derision and surprise. “That's just a myth, Oz,”

“But is it, though? We found a letter from Redmayne. Squire Worthy's son went barmy. He attacked people. Maybe even killed people, and Redmayne said he became uncontrollable. A wild animal. Ellie thinks the fifth artefact was responsible for that.” Oz's voice dropped into a low whisper. “She thinks that Richard Worthy was the original Beast of Seabourne.”

Caleb shook his head. “But how can Worthy be a part of what's happening now, Oz? It makes no sense at all.”

Oz had a sudden thought and had to quell a sardonic giggle. It was pretty ironic to hear Caleb say something made no sense, when all the while, he was a part of an organisation sworn to protect weird artefacts that hardly anyone had ever seen and no one knew the origin of.

“I know what it sounds like, but we have to find out what's happening. First, Kieron Skinner, and now Pheeps.” Oz held the historian's gaze, defying him to argue. “We have to find out what's going on before someone else gets hurt…or worse.”

Caleb was not convinced. “Oz, I'm begging you, wait until I come back. It'll be another week at most. I'll try and cut this trip short if I can.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as if to ease a sudden pain. “The trouble is, Heeps has this thing organised with military precision.”

“I'm not promising anything,” Oz said. “But you'll be glad to know that we won't be able to do much this week, anyway. If everything goes to plan, me, Ellie, and, hopefully, Ruff are away on a school trip from Wednesday. So, by the time we're back, maybe you will be, too.”

The relief on Caleb's face was obvious. “Good. That makes me feel a bit better. What happened to Hamish…” Caleb blinked and the words died on his lips. When he spoke again, his voice was low and thick; “…is difficult for me to talk about. But then, one's own failings usually are.”

The next day was the last Monday of term. Oz got a filthy look from Jenks during registration and sent back a very rude gesture. When Miss Arkwright asked him to stay behind, Oz felt sure that she'd caught him at it, but all she wanted was to tell him that the Volcano had lifted the ban on orchestra practice and they would recommence this afternoon.

“Just as well, because Mr Fidler had threatened to hurl himself onto his own baton,” she explained with wry smile.

Oz caught up with the others and he Ellie, Ruff, made their way to the lab, donned their monogrammed lab coats, and sat the last of the qualifying tests for the science trip. Magnetism and electric motors was not a difficult subject, but Skelton played rough by slipping in a couple of questions from previous tests on electrolysis and the rock cycle as bonus marks. Oz managed to answer everything, although he was a bit ropy on the trick questions.

“Well?” Ellie said, glaring at Ruff expectantly as they trooped off to the canteen for lunch.

“Piece of Victoria sponge,” Ruff said.

“Three cheers for Soph, then,” Ellie said drily.

“I couldn't remember the difference between basalt and granite,” Oz said, sounding glum.

“Yeah, that wasn't fair,” Ellie agreed.

“He's just trying to catch people out,” Ruff said.

Ellie let out a resigned sigh. “Oh, well, fingers crossed. Nothing we can do about it now. We'll know for definite this time tomorrow.”

“So, how is this supposed to work?” Ruff asked. “Does everyone bring a suitcase to school tomorrow?”

“Suppose so,” Oz said. “There won't be time to go home if we're leaving at five PM sharp tomorrow afternoon.”

“Bit tough on those who don't make it. They'll be left standing there with suitcases packed and no room on the bus,” Ellie said.

Oz shrugged. “That's Skelton for you. Likes a bit of drama. What are you going to tell your mum and dad if you go, Ruff?”

“I'm telling them it's for free. And that's true as far as they're concerned, isn't it?”