Justin Richards - The Death Collector

‘Foundries,’ George repeated as he realised what Sir William was saying. ‘Those frames we saw being made. There were dozens of them.’

‘Exactly,’ Sir William replied gravely. He gave Liz a brief, sympathetic look before walking quickly and purposefully across the shattered laboratory. ‘We have to get Eddie’s stone back.’

George gently let Liz’s head rest on the floor. He pulled off his jacket, folding it into a pillow and pushing it carefully under her fair hair. She murmured, but did not wake. She would be all right, George was sure. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he whispered. ‘Or I’ll find someone, send them to look after you.’

‘What’s so important about a lump of rock. Even if it is a fossil?’ Eddie was shouting after Sir William. He ran back and grabbed George by the arm. ‘Come on, we’ve got to stop him!’

Reluctantly, George allowed Eddie to pull him to his feet. He glanced back at Liz, apparently sleeping peacefully now, then together they ran after the old man.

Sir William did not wait for them. He called back over his shoulder. ‘Don’t you see? You found it inside the statue. It is Glick’s proof — what he was going to produce during his speech. He knew which came first, like in the riddle. He realised how dinosaurs reproduce and he found the evidence to prove it.’ Now Sir William did pause. He looked at them. ‘We have to get it back before Lorimore can somehow reactivate the living matter fossilised inside that stone. However he brought Wilkes back to some semblance of life, that’s how he’ll do it. Don’t you see?’ he said. ‘It’s a dinosaur egg .’

Then he turned, and hastened down the passageway, after Lorimore.

Eddie and George exchanged looks, then hurried after him.

‘Wait!’ George yelled. His voice echoed off the panelling. ‘Wait for us!’

They reached the end of the passage, passing the open door to Sir William’s office, and raced into the foyer. The main door was hanging off its hinges. A heavy mist of mingling steam and fog still lingered in the air. George could see the shape of Sir William through the mist as he hurried out of the door and down the steps.

George and Eddie sprinted after him. But a huge figure stepped out in front of them. One of Lorimore’s thugs, arms stretched out ready to stop them. They pulled up sharply, and ducked back out of reach.

Through the doorway, over the man’s shoulder, George could see Sir William. He could see the men closing in on him as he hefted his broken cane and prepared to meet them. He could see the skeletal shape of what had once been Albert Wilkes step down behind Sir William, arms raised and ready to strike.

Then the enormous bulk of the man filled the doorway. George and Eddie had no choice but to back away, into the Museum. From outside they could hear a muffled cry, the sound of a scuffle. The clanking of a steam-driven mechanism. They heard Blade shouting, and the man stepped away. The fog rolled in, covering everything in a grey shroud and blotting out the moon.

When the air cleared and the moonlight again struggled through, the courtyard was dark and empty. Somewhere in the distance a carriage clattered over cobbles. The metallic scrape of inhuman feet faded into the smog. Thunder rumbled.

‘They’ve taken him,’ Eddie said into the silence.

‘Insurance,’ George said. ‘To make sure we don’t interfere with Lorimore’s plans. Or perhaps he thinks he might need Sir William’s help. But whichever it is, he has the dinosaur egg, and now he has Sir William. Let’s get back to Liz.’

‘At least things can’t get any worse,’ Eddie grumbled as they hurriedly made their way back to the laboratory.

But he was wrong.

George’s jacket was lying where he had placed it, carefully folded, the depression made by Liz’s head still visible. But Liz herself was no longer there.

Light smeared painfully over Liz’s eyelids and she blinked. The first thing she saw was the scar. A single image, stamped across her retina — the scar running down Blade’s face directly in front of her.

‘She’s awake, Mr Lorimore.’ Blade grinned at Liz before moving away.

The second thing she saw, as her eyes refocused, was Sir William Protheroe sitting in the chair beside her, one of Lorimore’s thugs close behind him.

‘I trust you slept well,’ Lorimore said in his shrill almost birdlike voice. ‘At least you were spared the indignity of being brought here kicking and screaming like Sir William.’

Liz’s head felt as if it was about to split open, and when she blinked residual images of lightning flashed behind her eyes. But slowly she was able to look round and observe her surroundings.

She and Sir William were sitting on upright chairs at the back of a large laboratory. The three outside walls were dominated by large windows, and Liz could see the fog pressing in from the outside, and the hint of stars. The moon was just visible within the fog as it shone down through a vast, domed glass ceiling. Behind her, when she turned to look, Liz found another of Lorimore’s henchmen standing guard. Clearly Lorimore was taking no chances this time. Beyond her guard, Liz could see double doors that gave into the main drawing room of the house.

But this laboratory was clearly where Lorimore conducted his grotesque work. A large wooden workbench, similar to the one Sir William had used, dominated the space in front of them. Spread across it was all manner of equipment and specimens. Bones, fossils, large jars of murky liquid that contained things that Liz would rather not look at.

Lorimore was at the workbench, Blade assisting him as he pieced together more apparatus. Wires and cables were joined into a metal bowl. In the other direction they trailed across the workbench, down to the floor, to a huge iron tank standing at the side of the room.

Sir William was also watching with interest. He glanced at Liz, and saw where she was looking. ‘A battery, I believe,’ he said quietly. ‘A means of attaching electrical power to that metal bowl, in which I imagine he intends eventually to place the egg.’ He clicked his tongue as if about to admonish a dim student on his slow progress, and quickly explained the significance of Eddie’s stone. ‘How are you feeling, by the way?’ he asked when he had finished.

‘Apart from a headache, not too bad,’ she said, making light of how she really felt. ‘What about you?’

‘I feel rather stupid to have got myself — and you — into this,’ he said. ‘Otherwise I have no complaints.’

‘I should think not,’ Lorimore said from the other side of the workbench. As he spoke, heavy clouds drifted across the moon, throwing his face into sudden shadow. ‘I am hoping that we are in for a storm,’ Lorimore went on, looking up. Somewhere in the distance was a rumble of thunder. Or possibly the roar of the monster Liz guessed was roaming the grounds outside to keep out any locals who slipped past the guard at the gate.

Whichever it was, it pleased Lorimore. ‘Excellent.’ He turned to Blade. ‘Exactly as forecast. Which will save us worrying whether the battery power is sufficient for reanimation. Put up the lightning conductors, will you? I think we can afford to wait a little while for the storm to break.’

‘Of course, sir.’ Blade spared Liz and Sir William a scowl as he strode past them and into the house.

‘You propose to reanimate the egg?’ Sir William said. ‘With electrical energy, is that correct?’

‘Absolutely correct.’ Lorimore paused in his work and walked round the workbench, coming over to them. ‘You are a very clever man, Sir William. Such a shame your intelligence has been so wasted up until now. But at least you will be a witness to this historic moment.’