Justin Richards - The Death Collector

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.’