The Monster Within (13 page)

They had reached a small terrace halfway down the block.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea,' Jack asked. ‘I mean, of all people to choose…'

‘Do you have a better idea?'

They knocked at the front door. After a moment, it swung open, revealing a severe-looking
woman, thickset and strong. She bore an unfortunate resemblance to a frog.

‘Miss Bloxley,' Jack began. ‘We—'

‘I always knew this would happen,' their tutor boomed. ‘I told Doyle that encouraging
children to investigate crime rather than focus on their studies would only lead
to rack and ruin.' She shook her fist. ‘Rack and ruin!'

‘We had nowhere else to go,' Scarlet said.

‘I'm sure,' Miss Bloxley said, her eyes flickering up and down the street. ‘Were
you followed?'

‘I don't think so.'

‘Come in.'

They entered a hallway lined with bookcases.

‘You sure like reading, Miss Bloxley,' Jack said.

‘Knowledge is the road to freedom,' she said. ‘Do you know where that quote comes
from?'

‘No.'

‘If you focused on your studies, you'd know! Surely you realise there is more to
life than punching people in the face!'

‘Uh, yes, ma'am. I mean, no…'

Miss Bloxley peered at Scarlet. ‘My dear, what on earth has happened to your hair?'

After Scarlet had explained, the tutor rubbed her chin.

‘Hmm,' she said. ‘Then we'll use this to our advantage.'

‘Does this mean you'll help us?' Scarlet asked.

‘Of course. Ignatius Doyle may be foolish sometimes, but he's a lovable fool.'

‘The papers are calling him a terrorist,' Jack said.

‘The papers are idiots!' Miss Bloxley declared. ‘Now, you must sit down and eat while
we plot our course.'

She led them to the kitchen at the back of the house. It was small, made smaller
because it also held bookcases filled with cookbooks.

Miss Bloxley rustled up cucumber sandwiches and cups of cocoa. ‘These hot chocolates
are not the same as Doyle's,' she said. ‘His are so thick you can stand up a spoon
in one.'

Jack bit into a sandwich. It was delicious. ‘Thank you,' he said. ‘I'm hungrier than
I thought.'

‘Who was it who said an army marches on its stomach?' Miss Bloxley asked.

‘Uh, you just said it.'

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Napoleon Bonaparte!' she boomed. ‘Are you comparing me to the
little corporal?'

‘No, Miss Bloxley!'

‘A shame. Apart from being a megalomaniac, he was one of history's most successful
leaders. Now, you must tell what you intend to do now that your mentor is incarcerated.'

‘We're not really sure,' Scarlet said. ‘We've reached a bit of a dead end.'

‘Except you have forgotten one piece of information about this Joe Tockly fellow.
You said he owned a house in Margate. '

‘The police went there, but didn't find anything.'

‘It's worth visiting in lieu of any other course of action.' Miss Bloxley glanced
over them both. ‘Disguises will be in order.'

‘You don't mean…' Scarlet said.

‘I'm afraid so. I have some experience in hair cutting, so we should be able to do
something interesting with what remains.'

Jack was banished to the library while Miss Bloxley went to work on Scarlet's hair.
In here the books were arranged in a Dewey system. Whatever else could be said of
Miss Bloxley, she was organised. There was a painting over the mantelpiece of an
elderly couple and another of a young man. Jack wondered if he was Miss Bloxley's
son.

It was strange seeing this side of their tutor. She seemed almost…human.

The door opened.

‘Bazookas,' Jack said.

Scarlet's hair had undergone a transformation: it was now short at the sides, the
remainder piled on top.

‘It's the best I could do under the circumstances,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘But not too
bad. Not bad at all.'

‘It's…lovely,' Jack said.

‘I would love to do
something
about your green coat, but we don't have time.'

‘Do something?'

‘Clean it! My boy, it looks like you've become a resident of the streets. And we
must do something about your appearance too.'

‘I have my disguise kit.'

Within seconds, Jack had applied a rubber nose and was wearing a cap that hid most
of his hair. He looked like a new person…almost.

‘Not a bad job,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘If you just put the same effort into your Latin,
you'd become a master. A master!'

‘Margate is a large place,' Scarlet said, as they left the house a few minutes later.
‘How will we find Tockly's home?'

‘Fortunately, I have a friend who has lived there all her life.' Miss Bloxley was
a surprisingly fast walker. ‘Dottie knows anyone who's anyone.'

They passed a newsagency. One headline in the
stands described the arrest of Mr Doyle.
Another was about a new crisis: a march in support of the suffragettes was planned
for the following Sunday, in contravention of government orders.

‘People should be able to protest,' Scarlet said. ‘It's a basic human right.'

‘The government is terrified,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘I can understand their fear, but
curbing our freedoms only hands power to the Valkyrie Circle.'

Having boarded a train, the trio were in Margate within hours. Following a street
to the coast, they caught sight of the airfield, the domestic and international hub
for airships travelling through this part of the country.

Miss Bloxley scooted into a newsagency and scanned the afternoon edition before leading
them towards the awning of a bookshop.

‘Do not attract attention,' she said. ‘You're currently on Scotland Yard's Most Wanted
list.' Jack laughed, but Miss Bloxley glared at him.

‘This is no occasion for humour. I've just seen your pictures in all the newspapers!'

‘I thought it was just Mr Doyle!'

‘That man Wolf has listed you as extremely dangerous. Wanted dead or alive.'

She hurried down the street and knocked at a door. An elderly lady invited her inside.

‘Wanted dead or alive,' Scarlet echoed. ‘I don't know if I should be afraid or proud.'

‘I'll go with terrified.'

‘Brinkie has been a fugitive on a number of occasions. She was once unjustly accused
of killing the Prince of Sweden, except it turned out the murder was actually committed
by a chair.'

‘A…sorry, did you say “chair”?'

‘Yes, a chair. Oh, it was the chair Brinkie was sitting on,' Scarlet explained. ‘It
had a timer that fired a poisoned dart at the prince. Obviously the chair didn't
plot his death. That's ridiculous.'

‘I know. One minute chairs would be killing people. Then tables and sideboards. Before
you know it, the human race would be engaged in a life and death struggle against
the furniture of the world.' He sighed. ‘The zombie apocalypse makes far more sense.'

‘A zombie apocalypse makes no sense at all,' Scarlet told him.

Miss Bloxley rejoined them. ‘I've had some success with Dottie. She was my teacher
when I was a child.'

‘You were once a child?' Jack said.

‘No, Jack,' Miss Bloxley said, glaring at him. ‘I was created in a vat of chemicals
and instilled with life through the application of an electrical current. Of course
I was once a child!'

‘And a very lovely one, too, I'm sure,' Scarlet said, elbowing Jack.

‘I've been given an address which is a few streets away. I suggest we visit.'

They followed their tutor along the street. Jack felt guilty. ‘I didn't mean you
had never been a child,' he
said. ‘I saw the painting of the young man over your
mantelpiece. Was that your son?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘Basil is working on the London Metrotower as a space engineer.'

‘That sounds very impressive,' Scarlet said.

‘He's been assigned to the moon project.'

‘Bazookas,' Jack said. A space station had been built with the intention of landing
a ship on the moon. ‘You must be very proud of him.'

‘I am,' she said, swallowing hard. ‘I miss him very much.'

A few minutes later they reached a rundown street. A few houses, Jack observed, looked
about ready to be knocked down.

Miss Bloxley stopped out the front of one, glancing in both directions. ‘Normally
I would not suggest entering via the front door,' she said, ‘but no-one seems to
be around.'

An empty steamtruck was parked further down the road.

‘Doyle tells me you're adept in opening locks, Scarlet,' Miss Bloxley said.

Scarlet began working on the front door with her pick and had it open in seconds.

‘Well done,' their tutor said. ‘I could have strong-armed it open, but that may have
been too obvious.'

Upon entering, they could immediately see that Tockly had moved out. The house was
completely empty of furniture. The ground floor had a bare kitchen and
living room.
It had no backyard or rear exit. A small flight of stairs led to three compact bedrooms.

Jack was disappointed. They had come a long way to inspect an empty house. Still,
Mr Doyle had trained them to not take anything for granted, so they began a room-by-room
examination.

After a few minutes, Scarlet called them into one of the bedrooms where a built-in
bookcase filled one wall.

‘There's something strange about this room,' she said. ‘This wall is a little short.'

They gripped the bookcase, but it wouldn't budge. Miss Bloxley felt along the top.
‘This feels smooth,' she said, ‘but there is a raised section…'

Something clicked, and the shelf swung open like a door, revealing a second chamber
containing a desk and racks of chemicals.

‘This would appear to be the workshop of your bomber,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘An evil
character. Quite evil indeed.'

There were bunches of wires, pieces of clocks and a collection of boxes. A metal
lathe looked like it was used to make custom parts.

‘Do not touch anything,' she warned. ‘These items look most dangerous.'

A small bin lay under the bench and from it Miss Bloxley began removing scraps of
paper. ‘It seems Mr Tockly enjoys fish and chips,' she said. ‘But this is rather
more interesting.'

‘What is it?' Scarlet asked.

‘A list of dates and addresses.'

Scarlet read over her shoulder. ‘I know what this is,' she said, after a moment.
‘These are the dates of the first bombs.'

‘So that links Tockly with the attacks?' Jack said.

‘It does.'

‘Is there anything on the other side?' Miss Bloxley asked.

‘No.' Scarlet glanced at the chair. ‘But Mr Tockly has a lovely taste in fabric.'
Draped over the back was a piece of chequered tartan. ‘This is very nice.'

‘And a clue!' Miss Bloxley boomed. ‘Possibly I should give up teaching and become
a detective. A detective!'

‘Uh, it's a clue that he likes tartan?' Jack said.

She picked up the cloth. ‘Tartans are as distinctive as fingerprints,' she said.
‘More and more Scottish clans and castles are designing their own to promote their
identity.'

‘So this tartan would only come from one area?'

‘This is a fine tartan,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘And quite modern. Mr Tockly must have
some connection with this castle.'

‘It may even be the headquarters of the Valkyrie Circle.'

‘Then we need to go to Scotland?' Scarlet said.

‘That would be my suggestion,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘We can track down the castle from
there.'

After they'd trooped downstairs, Jack found the front
door shut. ‘I don't remember
closing it,' he murmured.

‘You didn't,' a man said, stepping into the hallway from the living room. Four others
joined him from the kitchen, each with an ugly smile. ‘Just hand over that fabric,'
he said, ‘and you won't get hurt.'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

With a sense of doom, Jack remembered the house had no back exit. He shot Scarlet
a look.
We'll have to fight our way out.

But what about Miss Bloxley? She had endangered her own life to help them and now
she was sure to be hurt.

‘You're in our way,' Miss Bloxley said. ‘If you're smart, you'll move.'

The man laughed. ‘We'll move,' he said. ‘Upstairs, where you can answer some questions.'

‘I don't think so.'

Jack swallowed. How could Miss Bloxley appear so calm? She didn't look afraid at
all, and his heart was about to explode with terror!

The gang leader produced a knife and started forward. ‘Look, you old bat,' he said,
‘you play nice with us—'

‘Snake strikes!' Miss Bloxley cried, raising both arms high. ‘Mongoose falls!'

She took a step forward, knocked the knife aside, grabbed the man's wrist and twisted
until something snapped. He screamed. She forced his arm back, slamming the knife
into the shoulder of the man behind her. Another man made a grab for her, but she
poked him in both eyes.

‘Tiger bites!' she screeched. ‘Deer hides!'

She kneed the next man between the legs and he hit the ground, groaning in agony.
A man with a beard produced another knife. But Miss Bloxley kicked it away, punched
him in the face and snatched up the weapon. Throwing it, she cried out, ‘Dove in
flight!'

It hit the last man in the shoulder. He fell to the ground, screaming.

Finally, she leapt into the air and landed on the fourth man. ‘Elephant walks!' she
screamed. Bones broke. ‘And jungle shakes.'