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Authors: F. E. Higgins

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‘Drink.’

I had to laugh. ‘Once I thought it might be poisoned,’ I
confessed.

Joe looked at me with great amusement as I sipped from
the glass. The burning liquid warmed the back of my throat
and made me cough. Joe delved into the bag again and
pulled out the ink and the quill. Automatically I reached for
them but he held them back.

‘I will write,’ he said.

I was confused. ‘But who down here shall tell his secret
to us?’

Still holding my book he opened it on the first page.

‘You will, Ludlow,’ he said. ‘The first story in your first
Black Book will be your own.’ He looked straight into my
eyes and my head filled with singing like angels and, because
I thought I might suddenly float away, I wanted to tell him
everything.

‘It is time for you to give up your secret.’

 
Chapter Forty-Two
Extract from
The Black Book of Secrets
Ludlow’s Confession

My name is Ludlow Fitch and I have a shameful confession. I have
carried it with me to Pagus Parvus and now to this deep under–
ground library of secrets. Though I am fearful that you will think
less of me, I wish to reveal it for I can bear it no longer.

You know whence I come, you know what sort of life I led in
the City. I am not proud of my past but neither will I deny it. I did
what I had to do to survive.

As the drink took hold of Ma and Pa I realized they would stop
at very little in their pursuit of gin. I had never expected, however,
that I should become a mere pawn in their selfish games. You can
imagine my surprise then when I arrived back one evening to find
them lying in wait. As soon as I stepped foot inside the attic room
we called home, Ma brought down a chair leg on my skull and I
crashed to the floor. I was hardly alive as they dragged me down the
stairs feet first, my head bouncing off every step, and when Pa flung
me over his shoulder my skull throbbed even more. I don’t know how
long we walked; I lost track of the turns and corners, and I couldn’t
read the street names on account of my blurred vision. I knew we
were still near the Foedus, her smell was strong in my nostrils, and
perhaps I have her to thank for the fact that I remained awake as
long as I did. Eventually, however, I succumbed to the terrible
throbbing in my brain and I lost consciousness. When I opened my
eyes, I was in the basement lair of Barton Gumbroot.

I still hate to think of what he tried to do to me. When I man–
aged to escape on to the street I knew that my life was never going
to be the same. The three of them chased me all the way to the river.
I could see the Bridge up ahead and I thought if I could just get
there, maybe I could find help in one of the taverns. But I was slow–
ing, I couldn’t see properly and I was running out of breath. Then,
to my utter horror, Pa caught me.

He grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around. We both
fell in the dirty slush and he jumped on me and clasped his hands
around my throat. His strength was superhuman. His desire for
money, for gin, made it so, but my desire to live was greater. I
reached up and burst his arms apart and at the same time I kneed
him in the stomach. He fell sideways and rolled on his back and then
the tables were turned. I sat upon his chest and held his arms down
over his head.

I looked into his cruel face and saw nothing to stop me. I closed
my hands around his scrawny neck and squeezed until he was blue
in the face and his eyeballs began to bulge. He writhed and kicked
and tried to wrest my hands away. He was unable to speak, but his
eyes were begging for mercy and I couldn’t ignore their plea. What–
ever else he might be he was still my father. With a shout I let go
and stood over him as he wheezed and coughed for breath.

‘Why did you do it?’ I gasped.

‘I’m sorry, son,’ he croaked in a voice full of remorse and, like
a fool, I thought he meant it. Ma and Barton were coming, I could
hear them. I turned for no longer than a second and Pa was up again
and had his arms tight as a noose around my neck. I elbowed him
sharply to make him let go and then I shoved him as hard as I could
and he stumbled backwards down the steep bank.

‘No,’ he cried, ‘Noooo,’ before landing on his back in the dark
waters of the Foedus. I watched in disbelief as she sucked him under
in a matter of seconds. I could see his white face, his mouth wide
open and bubbling, just below the surface and then he was gone. ‘Pa,’
I whispered and for a second I was rigid with shock. Then I came
to my senses and stumbled on to the Bridge where I saw Jeremiah’s
carriage just pulling away. With a supreme effort I managed to
climb on to the back. As we gathered speed I could still see Ma. She
was crying and screaming and Barton was shaking his fist at me and
cursing.

I murdered my own father, Joe. Whatever he had done to me,
surely he didn’t deserve that. I could have saved him. I could have
gone down and dragged him out. I cannot forgive myself. I have
dreamed of it every night and always I see his face looking up at me
from the water.

Joe put down his quill, laid a sheet of blotting paper
between the pages and closed the book. Tears streamed
down Ludlow’s cheeks.

‘I’m just a filthy murderer,’ he sobbed. ‘Why would you
want me with you?’

‘Ludlow,’ said Joe softly, ‘it was never your intention to
kill your father. If you were going to, you would have
strangled him when you had the chance; instead you
pitied him. You don’t even know for sure that he’s dead.’

‘I pushed him into the Foedus. No one gets out of that
poisonous river alive.’

‘Maybe your Ma and Barton pulled him out. Unless you
go back, you’ll never know. As for coming with me – I
knew what you did. I’ve always known.’

‘You knew?’ sniffed Ludlow. ‘How?’

‘I don’t think you’ve had a full night’s sleep since you
came to Pagus Parvus. I have heard you wandering around,
I have seen you standing at the window and I have listened
to your nightmares. It wasn’t difficult to work out what had
happened. Believe me, your story is not the worst to go in
a Black Book. But for now it doesn’t matter. Let’s concentrate
on what’s ahead, not what has gone before.’

Ludlow sat quietly for a moment then he asked, ‘Do you
have a secret, Joe?’

He smiled. ‘I do and it is in the very first Black Book I
owned.’

‘And where is that book.’

‘Hmm,’ he mused. ‘You’d have to ask Mr Jellico about
that. Though it is so long ago I doubt even he would know
which shelf it is on!’

 
Chapter Forty-Three
Fragment from
The Memoirs of Ludlow Fitch

Saluki was croaking loudly in her tank when we emerged,
quite breathless, into the upper cave. Joe took her out and
stroked her.

‘Would you like to hold her?’

‘Of course, but will she allow it?’

‘Let’s find out.’

So I held out my quivering hand and Joe placed her
gently on my palm. She was as light as a feather. I had
never noticed before how delicate she was. Her back was
mottled bright red and yellow and her long slender legs
were the green of young shoots in the spring while her
underbelly was white with pale blue patches.

‘She trusts you,’ he said simply.

I laughed. I had never thought to hold such a beautiful
creature in my life. He took her back and carefully placed
her in the drawstring bag and as he did so a piece of paper,
the one Perigoe had given him in the shop, fluttered from
under his cloak and landed on the floor.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

‘Read it,’ he said, and there was a strange look in his eye.
I held it up to the dim light and if I had thought I could be
surprised no more, then I was to be proved wrong. What I
saw and read finally gave me the answer to the ultimate
question.

‘You clever devil,’ I said. ‘So that’s how you did it. It
wasn’t Horatio’s pie at all.’

‘I did it?’ he queried and he looked at me with mild irritation.
‘Are you sure?’

‘No, you’re right,’ I exclaimed as I realized what he
meant. ‘You didn’t. It’s like you said – Jeremiah brought it
on himself.’ And then I realized something else, something
far more terrible. ‘Oh, my Lord,’ I whispered. ‘Oh, my
Lord.’

‘What is it, Ludlow?’

‘How did you know Saluki trusted me?’ I asked slowly.

Joe shrugged. ‘
Fortuna favet fortibus
.’

Fortune favours the brave.

My hands were shaking as I gave him back the paper.
‘Please don’t take any more chances,’ I said. ‘At least not
with me.’

‘Ah, Ludlow,’ he said grinning, ‘I’m disappointed in
you. What is life if not a gamble?’

 
Chapter Forty-Four
Page torn from
‘Amphibians of the Southern Hemisphere’

(Returned to Joe by Perigoe and then given to Ludlow in
the cave.)

Phyllobates tricolor

This colourful tree frog is a member of the Poison Dart
Frog family (Dendrobatidae) and a native of the rainforests
of South America. When the creature is under stress, from
a predator for example, it secretes a powerful poison
through special pores on its back. This poison causes the
skin to burn and blister and seeps into the bloodstream,
bringing about rapid muscle and respiratory paralysis and
leading inevitably to death. The native Indians of the area
tip their arrows with the poison, hence the name Poison
Dart. There is no known cure.

If you see one of these frogs, unless you two are well
acquainted, it is advisable not to touch it.

 
Chapter Forty-Five
Fragment from
The Memoirs of Ludlow Fitch

Outside it was impossible to see where we had emerged,
even though we stood no more than a few feet away from
the entrance. I shielded my eyes from the glare of the snow
and looked at Joe. ‘Where to now?’

‘I think we shall go to the City,’ he said. ‘There are many
there who might benefit from our services.’

‘Do we have to?’ I had no desire as yet to return to that
despicable place.

‘We are masters of our own destiny, Ludlow,’ said Joe.
‘We can go wherever we choose.’

‘Then let us leave the City for another day.’

‘Well, as you wish. Though you cannot avoid it forever.’
Joe turned in the other direction and began to walk.

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Just answer me one more question.’

‘Of course.’

‘What is so important about the wooden leg?’

‘It’ll come in useful one day, Ludlow.’

‘Is it something to do with your limp?’

‘That’s two questions.’

‘Please,’ I begged, but to no avail. Joe looked at me with
the hint of a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

‘A man must be allowed at least one secret, Ludlow,
don’t you think?’

BOOK: The Black Book of Secrets
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