July (18 page)

‘So what’s the deal?’ I asked.

‘You need to be at the premises tomorrow, after business hours. Say eight o’clock. 317
Temperance
Lane. It runs off Mason Place. Do you know it?’

Winter was nodding at me, telling me she knew it.

‘I can work it out,’ I said. ‘I’ll be there.’

‘With the required items,’ Sheldrake reminded
me. ‘There is a rear lane entrance which will be left unlocked for you. Go straight in. There’ll be an envelope with your name on it waiting for you, containing the information you require. Once I arrive and see for myself that you’re in possession of the items in question, we can go our separate ways. After that point you will wait for me to call with further instructions on the second appointment involving Ms de la Force. Is that understood?’

‘See you there.’

‘I’m going with you,’ said Boges.

‘Me too,’ added Winter. ‘There’s no way you can go on your own. Who knows what they have planned.’

‘We could get there early and run a security sweep of the area,’ said Boges, ‘and then wait for you in hiding, just outside.’

‘We’ll both be watching your back,’ said
Winter
. ‘If you’re sure you want to do this?’

‘I’m sure,’ I said, feeling completely the
opposite
. I couldn’t imagine ever having Oriana de la Force as an ally. Not in a billion years. I figured I’d go to the first meeting with Rathbone, get the envelope, then get out of there. I would never agree to a meeting with Oriana.

‘Tomorrow night you might find out the truth about your double,’ said Boges. ‘I hope you’re ready for it.’

31 JULY

154 days to go …

cal, it’s winter. just wanted to be the first in with a ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’ xo

 happy birthday cal. let’s hope tonight brings u some answers. c u later. boges.

The three of us had spent an hour crouched in an alley, discreetly checking out 317 Temperance Lane. It was on a narrow winding street that led off Mason Place just as Rathbone had described.

In my backpack was the text of the Ormond Riddle and the Ormond Jewel. The three of us stood up. I knew it would be impossible to secure such a place but with Boges and Winter offering
to keep a lookout at each end of the lane while I went in, I hoped everything would be OK.

‘I’ll wait here,’ said Boges when we reached the corner of the lane, ‘and keep watch. If anyone who looks like trouble arrives, I’ll let you know.’ He pulled out his mobile.

‘I’ll do the same at the other end of the lane,’ said Winter. ‘Are you sure you don’t want one of us to go in with you?’

I shook my head. ‘I can handle this. Any sign of something out of order, and I’ll be out of there like a rocket.’

‘And don’t be long,’ said Winter. ‘We have a birthday to celebrate when you get out!’

I approached the shopfront cautiously. In the streetlight, I could just make out that the gate at the rear entrance to Rathbone, Greaves and Diggory was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and stepped inside.

Everything was very quiet. I was on red alert. But the building seemed as quiet as the Ormond mausoleum. Deserted.

Sheldrake Rathbone would be here any moment, I thought, glancing at my watch. wondered about the information waiting for me as I trod stealthily down the short hallway to
what looked like a larger room at the end of it. Although the lights were out, a streetlight shone in through the windows. I stood there for a few moments, puzzled by what I saw. Then I realised what kind of business I was standing in.

Sheldrake Rathbone’s brother was an
undertaker
! Rathbone, Greaves and Diggory was a funeral parlour!

Coffins and caskets in light and dark
timbers
, silver handles glinting, were displayed on trestles, some of them gaping open to reveal the satin lining inside the polished wood. Some were barely finished, awaiting the final trim of fabric. A white one was lavishly painted inside like the Sistine Chapel, with cloudy skies and cherubs all over it.

Around the walls, and stacked behind the counter, several coffins were stored standing upright. A small room off to the left of them seemed to be the workroom, its floor covered with corkscrews of shaved timber.

I looked around for the envelope that
Rathbone
had said would be there for me. My eyes locked onto it, sitting alone on the counter.

Near the doorway to the workroom, beside a large black coffin standing against the wall, was a list of the burials for the next day. There was only one down for that day, I noticed. I leaned
forward to try and read the name. As I did, I caught a whiff of a faint scent that I recognised but couldn’t quite place; something familiar.

An unusual sound followed.

I swung around. ‘Who’s there?’ I called.

Silence again. I wondered if I should get out, go back to the street and call Rathbone.

I wasn’t leaving without the envelope. I reached out to pick it up and bang! The counter suddenly flew open, slamming into my face,
hitting
me square on the forehead.

It wasn’t a counter! It was a coffin! And
something
had flung the lid open and was leaping out at me!

Shocked and disoriented, I stumbled
backwards
, reeling from the blow to my forehead. I held my hand up, trying to protect myself against the charging figure from inside the coffin.

I quickly noticed his cowboy-style shoes as he came down on top of me. I kicked and punched, staggering backwards. A sharp jab stung my neck. I grabbed at it, twisting and turning to try and see my attacker.

Something weird was happening to me. A burning sensation started spreading over my shoulders and up into my face. I kept trying to turn around, but I was in slow motion, like in a nightmare, barely able to move. I felt my
backpack
being wrenched from my shoulders. My vision rippled like a mirage as I saw a dark
figure
shove my backpack into the casket painted like the Sistine Chapel.

My rippling vision turned into a haze, then faded to black. I kept fighting to keep my mind alive, but it was impossible. I couldn’t stop the darkness …

I couldn’t move. I blinked my eyes a few times, but everything was still black. The stinging
sensation
from earlier had changed into a complete numbness that had taken-over my whole body.

It was pitch black and I sensed something very close to my face. Using every ounce of willpower, I tried to force my fingers to move, but they wouldn’t! I couldn’t move! A strange sense of claustrophobia came over me and I felt hemmed in on every side, top and bottom as well, like I’d been wedged into some sort of confined crawl space.

What was going on? Where was I? I had to get out and find my backpack!