The Grasshopper's Child (34 page)

‘Well, I can't explain, but I saw what happened. Everything broke up. It was as if the secret room had been turned into pixels and deleted from reality, and I saw it come back. I'm thinking the key has to be biometric, but really, seriously complex. Maybe the whole person; not just their DNA or whatever. Or two whole people; maybe Portia as well. . . Hey,
George
? You went somewhere and fetched your friend. I know you left this room. How did you do it?'

‘A person. Or someone almost identical?' said Clancy, catching on. ‘What do we need from him? A severed finger? Do we drain his blood?'

George looked up. The bones of his face stood out, his eyes were bloodshot, wide and wild. ‘Not Mum, only Dad. No blood, nothing like that.
I am
the key. It's flaky, but it can find him in me, and
that's how I found out
—'

You've seen that ledger, thought Heidi. And she truly pitied him, but she didn't relent.

Rotten Meat.

‘Don't kid yourself, George. You knew plenty when we were on that ship. You've known for
years
that your nice life was built on food crime, and blackmail and slave trading. Now you know you've got to help us.'

‘Shut up, Cinderella. You've got nothing on me.'

George got to his feet and stumbled over to the wall opposite the quad bike. He waved his arms and jerked his legs; cackling, dreadlocks swinging like dripping rats' tails.

‘Oops, not making the right shapes. I've forgotten. Can't help you, sorry!'

Then he hit the sweet spot. The wall broke up; it reformed. A door appeared and George turned to them, grinning. George older, heavier:
George
overlaid with the stark, commanding face that had peered at Heidi as she lay in bed. Whatever he wanted to do, he would do it—

The horrific change only lasted a moment. The door stayed where it was. George pushed on it and passed through, still cackling. Heidi and Clancy followed.

The first room was a workroom, with a strong smell of chemicals, an array of shining metal tables; racked tools, and shelves of strange things in jars. Then came a narrow passage, dimly lit, where they could save their torches but had to walk in single file. They hurried to keep up with George but didn't speak to him, afraid to break his mood. Heidi counted steps and imagined she was running; from Swan Lake to the stranded yellow archway.

‘Ooh, problem, we've hit another wall,' yelped George. ‘Here we go again!'

This time the wall became a sliding panel. On the other side was a brightly lit office space: with a low ceiling, smart desks, 3D biometric printers, and everything else you'd expect to find in a business premises of the futuristic modern world.

Clancy looked for camera eyes and couldn't see any. Maybe the Carron-Knowells-Maylock HQ used something more sophisticated. He wondered about his fateful phone call, and whether George had really cracked up or was he faking it. He steadied himself: preparing.

George sat at a desk, and spun himself idly around. ‘They'll be upstairs,' he said. ‘My dad and Roger. Having a few Solstice drinks.'

Heidi stared at dog-eared photos pinned on a noticeboard. Some of them looked like copies of the pictures she'd found torn-up, stabbed and burned. She followed the pattern of the worn vinyl floor tiles with her eyes: between desks and office machines, to the inner face of the Steel Door. She was standing where her dad had lain, bleeding and dying in her dreams—

We ought to make a movie, she thought, and get out of here. But they had no camera. ‘Tell me about my dad, George. What did he know? Why did he have to die?'

George gave a fake sigh. ‘No idea. Sorry, you've lost me.'

‘Your dad had him killed. Whoever did it took something from my parents' room, and that was a problem, because the police might start looking for someone else besides my mum. So your dad figured out a way to return the evidence, and you planted it in my suitcase—'

‘Nope. Doesn't ring a bell.'

‘Oh, give it up. I know it was you. I worked it out.
You
put the suitcase in my room.
You
took the Rock Mouse. I knew the knots were different. You opened the Purple Suitcase, and planted the envelope and the rings—'

A flush had risen in George's cheeks. He was pink and scowling, like a little boy. ‘Oh yeah, okay. I
may
have escorted your suitcase. I
may
have taken a peek. I didn't plant anything.'

He was
blushing
. Heidi stared, the pixels shattering, reforming in a different picture—

‘My God. You took the money! The money in the envelope!'

‘What if I did? A few measly notes, so what? Calm down, why make such a
fuss
?'

Something broke open in Heidi's head. Scenes jumped at her. She herself, shaking with panic, was emptying the hidey-hole. She, herself, was reaching up, her own hands were grabbing the Purple Suitcase. Stuffing the envelope into it—

But
when did I do that
? But
how
—?'

It was gone.

‘I know why
he's
here,' said George, stabbing a finger at Clancy. ‘It's his choice. You shouldn't have tagged along, Cinderella Laureate. You turned up at the Garden House, thanks to Brook's mum. It was annoying, that's all. Mum was going to get you moved on, nothing worse than that. Why don't you run for it? You're not involved.'

‘Let's all run for it,' said Clancy, suddenly. ‘You guys go first. Tell the cops.'

‘I'm
thinking
about it, mystery boy.' George spun the chair. ‘But hey, since we're here, why don't I try my trick again? It won't take a minute. Let's see if I can get into my dad's old video favourites. They're a scream.'

‘No thanks,' said Heidi.

But George was staring at the space above the desk with a new expression; hard and concentrated. A sliver of screen took shape, a scene welled up. It was outdoors, at night: a small crowd had gathered around a spot-lit circle. A girl in a dirty teeshirt was roped to a stake, her head hanging down, arms tied back over the cross bar, her feet dangling off the ground. A man in a white robe approached her. It was George's dad but younger, his hair in shining chestnut waves. He held a knife. The crowd was silent; the girl struggled, crying feebly. Mr Carron didn't say a word as he sliced at the flesh of her arms and body, moving like a dancer. Then he set the point of the knife in the notch of her collar bone.

‘He's my dad,' whispered George. ‘He did that and he's in me. He's my
dad.'

‘If that's real, original footage,' breathed Clancy, over Heidi's shoulder. ‘Carron's crazy.'

‘It's real,' said Heidi. ‘He's a Sacrificer. That's what it's all about.'

‘I knew that.'

The girl's hair was draggled blonde, but if she raised her head, Heidi knew the she would see her own face. She couldn't look away. Don't look up. Please, don't look up, she prayed . . . Mr Carron drove it in. He opened the girl's body, Heidi's body, in one powerful straight down stroke. A mass of red flesh and glistening organs appeared and tumbled—

There was a sound like ice breaking. Heidi and Clancy spun round. The sliding panel they'd come in by was now a solid barrier, with a bank-vault lock.

‘Ouch!' said George, happily. ‘He's onto us. Sorry pals, I can't hack that one.'

The Steel Door flew open. George Carron senior strode in, Roger close behind. Mr Carron wore a dinner jacket. Roger wore pyjamas, a woolly hat and a scruffy plaid dressing gown.

‘What the hell's going on, George?' shouted Mr Carron.

‘Hey, Dad!
There
you are. I've been showing my friends around. Hope you don't mind.'

The Bogeyman glanced at Heidi; his eyes flicked over Clancy. Like a majestic evil king, whose will is law, swiftly deciding how to deal with a minor annoyance—

‘George, you're coming with me. Upstairs.'

‘What about Heidi, and the truant boy?' murmured Roger.

‘They can stay down here.'

‘Do you know who I am?' said Clancy, hands casually behind his back.

The evil king's attention was caught. He frowned: he seemed mildly interested in the question, or maybe in the pistol that had appeared in Clancy's steady grip.

‘Tell me. It's loaded. Come on, Mr Carron. Tell me who I am.'

Stubbly Chin had left the Steel Door open. Heidi could see out into in the dank well at the foot of the basement stairs. A wild-haired figure stood there, clutching something heavy. Tallis put a finger of her free hand to her lips and crept forward, bare feet soundless.

‘Enough nonsense. Give me that!' snapped George's dad.

Tallis swung the iron duck. It hit Carron's shoulder: not the back of his head, as the Old Wreck had probably planned. Carron staggered forward. Clancy recoiled, caught off balance, but stayed on his feet. Tallis stared at them all, still clutching her weapon.

‘Deal with her, Roger,' snapped Mr Carron. ‘For God's sake!'

‘No problem, no problem!'

Roger shoved George aside. His fingers flew above the desktop, in sharp little gestures. George started laughing hysterically, as the little girl from the Bedroom Floor appeared, a piteous, transparent, 3D ghost—

‘Oooh, Tallis,' crooned Roger, ‘
Loo-oo-ook!
Molly's here! She's come to get you, because
you let me do it
. Everyone knows you're a senile old drunk. They'll put you away if you try to make trouble. They'll turn the Gardens into food plant.'

‘I just walked through your “Molly” outside my bedroom door,' snapped Tallis.

‘But she's a ghost, she can be everywhere. Come on sweetie, back to bye-byes. I'll protect you, I won't let them take the Gardens.
No take
sweetie, you remember what I promised—'

‘
IDIOT!
' screamed Tallis. ‘
SICKENING FOOL! MY MOLLY IS IN MY HEART! I DON'T BELIEVE THE DEAD WALK! I BELIEVE THAT I MUST SUFFER! I PROTECTED YOU, DEVIL, AND WE MUST LIVE IN HELL TOGETHER!
'

‘Calm down, old girl,' said Mr Carron. ‘Everything's fine. It's not easy, but I'll keep the government out of here. That's what you want, you know it is, and worth any price—'

Old Wreck bared her teeth: suddenly calm. ‘Not anymore. You can push someone too far.'

A creeping shadow had followed Tallis to the basement; the same shadow that had followed Heidi to her room, the night she fetched her phone. Heidi watched it, while things moved fast and slow, as if in strobe light. Tallis swung her doorstop again. It smashed into a scanner casing and flew across the room. Roger and Carron grabbed her. Roger had his dressing-gown belt round her throat, Carron held Tallis's arms: it was messy, no more cool decisions. The murderers and their victim scuffled, grunting. The shadow got under Roger's feet. . . Then George's dad was lying still, blood all over, and Heidi was looking at the doorstop, which had somehow got into her hand. Her ears were ringing. Roger Maylock huddled on the floor, clutching himself and moaning. Tallis clasped the Bad Dream Cat in her arms. He struggled, mildly, to escape.

‘Stimmung! Oh Stimmung! Oh, can it be? Is it really you?'

Clancy held the pistol low, and disarmed it.

‘Did I kill him?'

Heidi crouched to check. ‘No, he's breathing. You sliced his scalp open, that's all.'

‘I'm glad. What are we going to do about the Sacrificer videos?'

‘Nothing must be found,' cried Tallis. ‘Or the Emperor will kill us all! Quickly! We must burn the place to the ground!'

George stood looking down at his dad, the great Mr Carron, and nobody moved. They heard the police sirens, racing through the Gardens.

Sorrel had done something useful, for once in her life.

27: The Second Fountain

After the Solstice Storm clear-up the Inspector called a meeting. The police had returned to Mehilhoc, in strength (which had been useful in the clear-up). The Inspector was staying at the Blue Anchor with his Sergeant, DS Marilyn Earley; plus a Special Clerical Assistant called Dan Royal. More police, nobody knew how many, were at Knowells farm: interviewing staff, and taking the place apart.

The meeting was held in the same Learning Centre study room as the interviews after the shipwreck. The Inspector and his team, with Dr Gunn and Barbara Holland, sat at a table; Evie the champagne Labrador sat under it. Heidi, with Challon, Challon's mum, Jo and Joe Florence and their mum, and Brook with Tim Healey, faced them, on the comfy chairs. Clancy was supposed to be here, but as usual he hadn't turned up.

The cop-in-the-woods sat quietly behind the inquisitors, his greasy cap pulled down over his eyes; long legs stretched out. He looked just the same as he'd looked before: eerily the same.

Everyone who'd been staying in the storm shelter had gone home. The Learning Centre nursery and pre-teen kids could be heard, busily chatting; and occasionally Tanya's voice. The real Inspector still looked like his avatar; except older. Heidi remembered how she'd promised herself that she would meet him in the real world, when it was over and Mum was safe. With a strange lurch in her stomach, she realised this was never going to happen. She would never walk in triumph into the real world version of that blue-walled interview room. Never hear the Inspector say,
Well done Heidi, you were right, your mum is innocent
.