The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Loveheart, Esq., Volume 2 (10 page)

The boy pulls a loose thread from his sleeve and examines it, dropping it casually onto the floor.
“
A taste of his own particular medicine.
”

Lucy Dewdoll escapes

I
am sitting in my cell, staring at a spider on the wall, its web half done, like a piece of lace, incomplete. There
’
s a tapping at the barred window. I peer out. A man on a ladder with a hacksaw.

“
Good morning
,
Miss Dewdoll. My name is Mr Loveheart and I
’
m here to rescue you.
”

Attempt to steal the butterfly, rescue Boo Boo and blow up the Professor

I
t
’
s two o
’
clock in the morning and Constable Walnut and myself are about to break into the Professor
’
s house. We
’
re hiding in a bush near the moat.

“
I
’
ve brought my lucky ferret leg,
sir,
”
said Walnut, and he whipped out a disgusting, deformed thing from his pocket and held it under my nose

“
My God, what happened to that unfortunate creature!?
”

There is a rummaging from the bushes and Mr Loveheart appears with a pistol and what appears to be a bomb.

“
Lovely evening,
”
he says.

“
What the hell are you doing here?
”
I
’
m confounded.

“
I
’
m here to rescue Boo Boo and blow the villain up. And you?
”

“
We
’
re here to steal his favourite butterfly. Can we at least accomplish that before you blow the building up?
”

“
I
’
m getting confused,
”
says Walnut, still gripping the ferret leg,
“
If he
’
s blowing the Professor up, then we don
’
t need to steal the butterfly, do we?
”

“
Why don
’
t we all go in together. Make it a group effort,
”
says Loveheart, glancing with suspicion at the object in Walnut
’
s hand,

Walnut breaks the side window using a rock and we climb through into one of the hallways and sneak along the passageway, the butterflies above our heads, row upon row like ancestral portraits. The moon is our only light. Walnut occasionally bumps into me.

“
What a slum he lives in,
”
Loveheart remarks.
“
He has no understanding of d
é
cor.
”

“
We need to get Boo Boo first,
”
I say, and we ascend a small spiral staircase leading to the upper floor where there are six doors and yet more butterflies. The first room is an empty bedroom used to store the killing jars and poison for the butterflies. Walnut opens the second room, which creaks softly like a haunted house. The room is empty except for the walls where seven photographs in frames sit, each one with a picture of a woman. Each woman wearing a wedding dress. White lace, white smiles, white ghosts. I recognize Lucy Dewdoll immediately: smile shy, awkward,
ill
-
fitting dress, a lizard cream frill round her neck, ruffled, suffocating.

It is the picture that is next to her that worries me more. It is Boo Boo. She is sitting on a chair in the photograph, her little legs dangling. Her shoe wonky, her eyes glazed over as though lost deep in space.

Loveheart glances over my shoulder.
“
Bride number seven?
”

I feel sick to my stomach. We leave that room and proceed to the third. Walnut trips over the carpet, Loveheart commenting,
“
I feel secure in the knowledge that I am working with professionals.
”

The third room is an empty nursery with butterfly wallpaper. The fourth room is filled with shelves with hundreds of jars. Loveheart picks one up and examines it curiously.

“
What
’
s inside them?
”
I whisper.

“
Dead butterflies,
”
he replies.

“
I have this bad feeling, sir,
”
says Constable Walnut.

“
Keep it to yourself, Walnut.
”

It is Loveheart who opens the fifth door, which reveals a massive bedroom where the Professor lies asleep on a huge black four poster bed. His favourite butterfly hangs above his head, as black as space.
Soft
-
footedly Loveheart creeps round the bed and takes the butterfly off the wall while the Professor snores.

I go straight into the last room and find Boo Boo. I pick her up in my arms and carry her down the corridor. Walnut is holding the butterfly and Mr Loveheart is busy placing the bomb under the Professor
’
s bed.

Loveheart comes running out.
“
Quickly!
”
he cries, and we all run down the stairs and towards the window. I manage to push Boo Boo out through the window and then turn to see Professor Hummingbird and he
’
s opening his mouth and butterflies are flying out, zooming towards us.

The six wives of Professor Hummingbird

1.
Elizabeth: poisoned with arsenic

2.
Rowena: pushed down the stairs

3.
Guinevere: buried alive

4.
Pandora: committed to an asylum

5.
Lottie: strangled

6.
Lucy: committed to an asylum and then escaped

Detective Waxford returns to Darkwound

I
hate this bloody village. My foot has not healed properly and I
’
m limping about. The morphine takes the pain away at least. I
’
m on a pony and trap heading for the Professor
’
s home. Detective White, Constable Walnut and Mr Loveheart have been missing for the last week.
I am prepared for any eventuality as this part of England is full of mad people. The forests are sinister, dense, stuffed with strange plant life.
I was really hoping never to come back to this backwater village with its abnormally high criminal activity.

I had been considering an early retirement from the force: a nice little cottage and an overweight cat for company.

Where are you, Detective White?

We cross the bridge and enter the courtyard to the Hummingbird moated castle, and there
’
s a little girl drawing with a piece of chalk on the stone slabs.

“
Miss,
”
I say.

She ignores me and so I step closer. I see she
’
s drawing butterflies, hundreds of them.

“
Miss,
”
I repeat.

She looks up.

“
Who are you?
”
I say.

“
My name is Boo Boo. The Professor adopted me.
”

“
Oh, has he now. I am Detective Waxford and I am looking for Detective White, Constable Walnut and Mr Loveheart, who are all currently missing. Have you seen them?
”

“
Yes. They tried to rescue me and blow the Professor up.
”

“
BLOODY HELL. Where are they?
”

She doesn
’
t reply.

“
Where is the Professor, Boo Boo?
”

She points towards the door.

I draw my gun out and enter the house; that creepy corridor of red and bloody butterflies. I move along the red carpets. All those insects, all those silver pins.

“
Where are you, Professor?
”
I shout.

I move further inside the maze. And I hear, what is that noise? A tapping, a fluttering, then I finally see. Oh
G
od
. The butterflies, all the butterflies are moving. They are alive!

And he suddenly appears from his study smiling,
“
How can I help you, Detective Waxford?
”

“
Where are they?
”
I point the gun at his head

“
Who?
”
he says softly.

“
YOU KNOW WHO. WHERE ARE THEY YOU FUCKING LUNATIC?!
”

“
Calm down, Detective
.
”

“
Professor Hummingbird. I am taking you in for questioning
.
”

“
Oh, you
’
re so dramatic,
”
he sighs

“
THIS IS FROM THE MAN WHOSE HOME LOOKS LIKE THE LAIR OF A
VILE
MURDER
ER.
”

“
Tut Tut, don
’
t get yourself into a tizz-woz
.
”

“
I am very happy to blow your demented brain out of your skull right here and dump you in the moat, but I need to know what you
’
ve done with them
.
”

He shrugs his shoulders

“
Are they dead?
”

He doesn
’
t answer.

“
ARE THEY DEAD?
”
I scream in his ear.

He sticks his tongue out. A tiny green butterfly zooms out of his mouth into the endless red.

Infuriated, I march him at gun point to the pony and trap where Boo Boo is drawing a giant butterfly.

“
Boo Boo, come with me,
”
I say, and lift her onto it. The Professor waves goodbye to his butterflies,
“
Toodle oooooooo.
”

Professor Hummingbird questioned at Scotland Yard

T
he Professor
’
s lawyer, Cedric Evening-Star, arrives to attend the questioning

“
I
’
m so sorry, Cedric,
”
Hummingbird
’
s voice is playful,
“
I really don
’
t understand how this has happened. I
’
m not sure what Detective Waxford thinks I
’
ve done but this is ridiculous.
”

“
Shut up
,
Hummingbird. Your adopted daughter told us that Detective White, Constable Walnut and Mr Loveheart were in your house last Sunday early morning to rescue her. That was the last time any of them were seen.
”

“
You mean kidnap,
”
he retorts.

“
Explain to me what happened.
”

“
I was awoken sometime after two in the morning by footsteps and voices. I noticed when I got up that my prize butterfly had been removed from the wall. I went downstairs and caught sight of Detective White with Boo Boo in his arms, pushing her through a window; Constable Walnut with my butterfly in his hands and Mr Loveheart telling everyone to get out quickly because he
’
d placed a bomb under my bed.
”

Cedric Evening-Star added,
“
So, kidnapping, theft and attempted murder.
”

“
And what happened next?
”

“
The bomb went off and blew up my bedroom and the entire roof of the keep.
”

“
And?
”

“
Well, there was a lot of dust in the air and debris falling about and I was confused and dizzy.
”

“
Where is Detective White?
”

“
I don
’
t know where any of them are. They must have escaped.
”

“
Why is Boo Boo still with you if they escaped?
”

“
She came back to me. She obviously didn
’
t feel safe with them.
”

“
Do you have the butterfly?
”

He pauses for a moment.
“
Yes, Constable Walnut must have dropped it. I was lucky. It is priceless.
”

“
What total shite,
”
I say.

“
I beg your pardon,
”
Cedric Evening-Star gasps.

“
It
’
s rather convenient that Boo Boo and your butterfly are returned to you and three men missing. What did you do to them?
”

“
Search my house if you must, you won
’
t find them.
”

“
Not without a warrant,
”
adds Mr
Evening
-
Star.
“
This harassment of my client will stop now.
”

I leave the room to speak to Boo Boo. She is sitting in my office, waiting for me, drawing butterflies on my desk.

“
Boo Boo, tell me the truth. What happened that night?
”

She put her piece of chalk down and looks up at me
.
“
Detective White carried me out of bed and put me through a window and told me to run. Then the bomb went off. I waited for them to come out. But none of them did. I ran to the village to see Mrs Charm and she made me hot chocolate. Later the Professor came to take me back to his castle
.
”

“
Do you think they are dead?
”

“
No. He turned them into butterflies.
”