The Beast of Seabourne (25 page)

Skyping you now
.

Oz took off his earphones and went to the laptop in his bedroom. He answered the call, and a few seconds later Sydney Fanshaw's inscrutable face appeared on the screen.

“Hi,” she said. “We saw you practising.”

Oz nodded weakly. He kept forgetting the twins had an incredibly powerful telescope trained mainly on Magnus Street, and quite often on Penwurt.

“Yeah, got an orchestra thing coming up.”

“Must be hard now that they've banned rehearsals at your school.”

Oz should not have been surprised they knew. The Fanshaw twins knew everything about everyone. They weren't at school with Oz—theirs was a private school with a lilac bowler hat as part of the uniform—but one of their hobbies, of which there were many, was surveillance.

“Let me guess—you've got a spy satellite in orbit over the school hall.”

Sydney giggled. “No, Lorenzo Heeps phoned my dad.

They're supposed to have a meeting here with Gerber today, but Heeps is at the hospital with Phillipa, so it's been delayed.”

“How is she?”

“He was about to take her home. But he simply had to tell my dad that he'd stopped off at Thornton's to buy her a mega-box of chocolates, too.” Savannah came into view and made a face.

Oz nodded. If it wasn't chocolate, it would be some other extravagant present; of that, he was certain.

“Anyway,” Savannah went on, “we do orchestra at school.”

“And we thought that, since your practise was cancelled—” Sydney paused in her usual way for her sister to finish the sentence.

“—we could maybe help out.”

“Really?” Oz asked.

“Yeah.”

“That would be brilliant. What instruments do you play again?” Oz asked.

“I'm not bad at saxophone and clarinet. Got grade eight in them, but not so good on flute and piano. I've only got grade seven in those two,” Savannah said.

“And I'm strings, mainly. You know, violin and guitar,”

Sydney added.

“Grade eight?” Oz asked weakly.

“Yes, but I do keyboard and percussion, too.”

This information was delivered in the same offhand sort of way a modest England football international might mention that he sometimes played a bit. Oz searched their curiously expressionless faces for any hint of coyness, but there was none.

“Right, well, shame you can't play more than one at once,” Oz said with a hollow laugh, which died when he saw their expectant grins. “You can't…can you?”

“No,” Sydney said.

“That's just silly,” added Savannah.

Two pairs of identical brown eyes, under long brown hair and above the same white smile, exchanged glances. Oz noted that Sydney wore a purple wristband, and he suspected she'd done that so he could tell them apart.

“But what we could do is record ourselves on one set of instruments—” Sydney said.

“—and use that as a backing track to play live to,” Savannah said.

Oz stared at them in bewilderment.

“You'd better come and see our studio,” Sydney suggested.

Ten minutes later, Oz was following the twins across the first-floor landing of Number 3 Magnus Street to a huge room. It had no windows, a springy wooden floor, and three walls painted white.

But it was what was in the room that made Oz's jaw slide open like a snowball down a hot roof. It was as if he'd walked into a musical instrument shop. There were violins, violas, guitars—both electrical and acoustic—a baby grand piano, clarinets, flutes, recorders, trumpets, and a full drum kit.

On a desk sat two PC monitors linked by wires to several electronic boxes stacked beneath. At the far end was a glass wall, and behind it were several microphones on stands.

“I knew you had lessons, but…” Oz said, trying, and failing, to keep the awe out of his voice.

“Oh, yeah,” Savannah said. “All sorts.”

“The studio was a birthday present from Mum and Dad—”

“Mum plays a bit of piano, so it's for her, too—”

“It's only just been finished this last month,” Sydney added.

“And we have the latest recording software 'cos our dad works for the company that makes it.”

“We'd like to make a film one day—”

“And write the soundtrack for it—”

“We'd probably need a drummer, too.” They both smiled at Oz, who looked over at the drum kit enviously.

“Can I?”

The girls nodded, and Oz sat at the kit. It was shiny, with pearlescent red shells. The skins looked nearly new, and the cymbals didn't have chinks and bits missing from their rims like those at school.

“Do you have any music?” Sydney asked.

Oz handed her Fidler's arrangement from the file he'd brought with him, and, while he enjoyed himself at the drums, S and S busied themselves with practising some of the parts. An hour later, Oz was playing live, with Savannah on sax and Sydney on guitar, to a recorded track of keyboard, clarinet, and trumpet.

It sounded great. Much better than any of the rehearsals he'd had with the Seabourne County School orchestra. They continued practising for another hour before stopping for refreshments brought up on a tray to the girls' apartment by Mrs Fanshaw. There were pink lemonade and snacks in the form of bits of carrot, peppers, and celery cut into sticks, with bowls of spicy salsa and creamy cheese with chives.

“Having fun, darlings?” asked Mrs Fanshaw.

With his mouth full of lemonade, all Oz could do was nod. Mrs Fanshaw beamed and revealed a row of gleaming white teeth. She was skinny and wore white drainpipe jeans, boots, and a white blouse that showed off the gold jewellery on her bronzed skin.

“Your mum going out?” Oz asked when she'd gone.

“No,” Savannah said.

“But she looks dressed up.”

“She always looks dressed up.” Sydney shrugged.

“Mum's worst nightmare is the fire alarm going off in the middle of the night so she'd have to run outside without any makeup on.”

Savannah added, “Just wait until Heeps and Gerber get here. She'll be dressed up for that.”

“Heeps and Gerber. Forgot they were coming,” Oz said, grimacing.

“They won't be here for ages,” Savannah said reassuringly.

Oz nodded, but his discomfort at knowing they were both going to be there was difficult to hide.

“We don't like them, either,” Sydney said.

Oz looked up, surprised once again by the twins' ability to read him like a book.

“Gerber is just weird.” Sydney held out the cheese and chive dip, into which Oz dunked a carrot.

“And Heeps calls us Barbie girls.” Savannah shut her eyes and shook her head.

“He is a bit smarmy,” Sydney agreed.

“That's like saying a hurricane's a bit windy,” Oz said.

The twins laughed, and a sudden pang of guilt struck Oz. If it weren't for the Fanshaws, he'd be nothing more than a bit of charred carbon. They had got Soph's message that Penwurt's basement was on fire the night Gerber's agent had attacked him, sixteen months before. They had called the fire brigade, and they had dragged him out of there and rescued the artefacts. Now here they were, being generous and good friends to him once again. Which was more than could be said for Ruff and even Ellie at that moment.

He had told S and S some of the story, of how Rollins, who'd set the fire in the basement and tried to kill him, had once worked for Gerber and how desperate Gerber was to get Penwurt.

But he had been a little bit selective in telling them the whole truth.

Okay, the twins were a bit weird; they never went out and were happy in their own company, and yet here they were, bailing him out again. Even though their father, who was a pretty high-powered lawyer specialising in patents, worked for Gerber sometimes, Oz knew it was purely a business arrangement. He knew that because the twins had recorded their mum and dad describing Gerber and Heeps in pretty uncomplimentary ways. Oz looked at them and suddenly made his mind up.

“Look, Gerber and Heeps… I…we…that is Ellie, Ruff, and me…we think that Gerber's more than a bit odd.”

“We don't think that,” Savannah said evenly.

Oz frowned.

“We know it,” Sydney said.

Oz smiled at them. “Okay, but what I'm going to tell you now, you have to promise me doesn't go outside this room. I mean, you aren't recording this now, are you?” He looked jerkily around for signs of hidden microphones.

“We don't snoop on ourselves,” Savannah said, frowning.

“That would be weird,” Sydney added, with an identical expression creasing her brow.

Oz nodded, took a deep and steadying breath, and told them about Redmayne, and Morsman and Bunthorpe. He told them how he, Ellie, and Ruff believed that Gerber had got hold of the fifth artefact—the shell—in 1914, found or stolen from one of the Shoesmiths, the family of farriers who had somehow been able to utilise the “shell” to good effect to help treat animals.

He told them Gerber was really one hundred thirty years old. Told them his theory of how Gerber was still alive due to some effect the artefact had, and that Gerber was after the other artefacts for probably the same reason. He told them how Morsman had died in a bombing raid in London under weird circumstances. And he saw them nod in wideeyed acceptance.

He kept the most important thing until last. Finally, with an over-the-shoulder glance to make sure no one was watching, he reached into his pocket and took out the pebble, pressed the maker's mark, and watched their expressions light up like Oxford street lights as Soph appeared before them, a pretty, holographic teenage girl in jeans and a T-shirt, grey-eyed and dark-haired.

“Awesome,” Sydney whispered.

“Can she speak?” asked Savannah.

“Totally,” Oz said. “Ask her something. Go on.”

“Like what?” Sydney shot him a nervously excited look.

“Anything you like,” Oz said.

“Oh, okay, I know,” Savannah said, grinning broadly.

“What's an
iso paha susi?
” she on about;

Sydney was grinning, too. They looked like two very smug cats from Cheshire.

Soph spoke. “A big bad wolf.”

Both girls said, “Wow,” simultaneously.

“No one we've ever asked has got anywhere near getting that right,” Sydney said, eyes glittering.

“What sort of language is that?” Oz asked.

“Finnish,” Soph said.

“Mum's half-Finnish,” Savannah explained.

“Yeah, my dad always says that.” Sydney made a face.

“You know, never ask Mum to do anything because she'll only ever half-finish it.”

“Cringe-making,” Savannah said with a sigh.

“My turn,” Sydney said, biting her lip in concentration. Suddenly her eyebrows shot up. “Umm, I know. How many fernticles do I have on my face?”

Soph gazed calmly back at her and said, “I can count thirty-eight.”

“I make it thirty-five,” Sydney said, obviously delighted. “But you're probably right.”

“What's she on about?” Oz asked Savannah.

“Fernticle. That's our favourite word for freckle.”

“She's good,” Sydney said breathlessly, not taking her eyes off Soph for a second. “So,” Oz said quickly before they could ask anything else, “what me, Ellie, and Ruff are trying to do is help Soph find her memsource. We think it's either the ring or the pendant.”

S and S nodded vigorously.

“Anyway, we traced the ring to a dealer and, well… Soph, can you show them what happened to him?”

Instantly and right in front of them, a six-foot-high projection of the news bulletin on Bendle appeared. But all Oz did, since he knew the story well, was watch how S and S kept throwing amazed and astonished glances at Soph, from whose outstretched finger the projection emanated. The twins watched until Soph had finished and then looked at each other and finally at Oz.

“We know that name,” Savannah said. “Bendle.”

“We heard Heeps say it here, in this house,” Sydney added, her eyes large and solemn.

“What?” Oz asked. “When?”

“Last week. Heeps and Gerber have been here lots of times lately. You know JG Industries are planning a launch of SPEXIT?”

Oz's swallow sounded loud in his ears. “I had heard,” he said, unable to hide the wariness in his voice. The twins had managed to get hold of trial versions of the game and had let him have a go several times. There was no doubt it was the best video game he'd ever played. Gerber was going to make a fortune, but Oz's thoughts flew back to the bear auramal outside the garage door, and his head filled with the smell of engine oil and dust. The boy on the leash had worn something very like the SPEXIT Oz had tried out, and he was now certain that artefact technology had been used in their design.

“Do me a favour,” he said. “Be really careful with anything else Gerber gives you to try, okay?”

Savannah nodded and so did Sydney. Their eyes were owl-like and unblinking.

“Anyway, we saw Heeps in the garden on his mobile phone to someone and—” Sydney began.

“—we listened in,” Sydney added, grinning.

“I'm not even going to ask how,” Oz said.

“Unidirectional listening device,” Savannah said, and shrugged.

“Do you remember what he said?”

Savannah shook her head.

“But it'll be on our surveillance log,” Sydney added brightly, and turned to leave the room.

Oz should have been surprised, but when it came to S and S, the more he knew them, the less he was surprised by anything they said and did. A minute later, Sydney came back into the room with a pink laptop, which she flipped open.

“Can you remember which day it was?” Sydney asked Savannah, who promptly shook her head.

“If it's on there, Soph will find it if you let her,” Oz said.