The Mysterious Benedict Society (12 page)

The children were dumbstruck. Government agents had disappeared and nobody cared? Nobody even believed it?

Reynie found his voice first. “So that’s how you know these strange messages are having an effect on people.”

Mr. Benedict nodded. “Quite right, Reynie. At least, it’s one example.”

“Wait a minute,” Kate said. “How do you know the messages have anything to do with that?”

“Because of that phrase we heard on the Receiver,” said Reynie. “‘The missing aren’t missing, they’re only departed.’ Don’t you think there’s a connection?”

“Hey, you’re right!” said Kate, who had already forgotten that phrase.

Constance seemed exasperated. “Okay, so the authorities are being snookered by these hidden messages. But how could they resist the facts? Show them your Receiver gizmo, Mr. Benedict. They’ll
have
to believe you.”

“I’m afraid they won’t,” said Mr. Benedict. “The Receiver would be considered insufficient evidence. For all they know, the messages might be my own invention, generated by the Receiver itself. I am no longer considered a trustworthy source of information.”

Reynie was puzzled. “But Mr. Benedict, if you explained how it worked — scientifically, I mean — how could they not believe you? Surely you can demonstrate the principles involved!”

Mr. Benedict hesitated. “A reasonable suggestion, Reynie. A very… Now let me see. How to put it? I can’t exactly… Well…”

Number Two interrupted him. “What Mr. Benedict is too embarrassed to say, children, is that even if he did explain it, no one would believe him because no one would
understand
him. That’s the downside to being a genius — just because
you
understand something doesn’t mean anyone
else
will. Mr. Benedict is too modest. He can never bring himself to say it.”

“He’s tried to explain it to any number of people,” Rhonda put in. “But not only are they skeptical to begin with, Number Two and I — and a few of the other assistants — are the only people who have understood him.”

Mr. Benedict’s cheeks and forehead had gone pink with embarrassment. He coughed. “As usual, my friends, you overstate my accomplishment. Nevertheless, the essence of what you say is true. Among the authorities these days it is difficult to find a sympathetic listener.”

“In other words, compared to you, they’re all dummies,” Kate said with a laugh.

“That is perhaps not the most polite way to put it, Kate,” said Mr. Benedict.

Unlike Kate, the others were in no mood to laugh. Hidden messages being broadcast to the world, good men and women gone missing, the authorities beyond convincing — and the children were somehow going to be involved in all this? The prospect had caused a deep, indefinable dread to settle upon them like a cold mist.

Constance’s reaction, by now a predictable one, was to express irritation. “Fine, I get it. A lot of people have vanished without a trace, and someone’s sending out secret messages, and nobody will believe you about it. But
we
aren’t really in danger, are we?” (Though her tone was scoffing and irritable, it was evident from her eyes — which darted back and forth — that Constance was growing afraid.) “You said we were all in danger… but that was just an exaggeration, wasn’t it?”

“I am sorry to say it, Constance,” Mr. Benedict said somberly, “but I did not exaggerate in the least. You are all in danger even as we speak.”

And indeed, even as they spoke, the bell on the landing began a furious clanging.

A
great deal happened in a very short time: Mr. Benedict fell asleep, having been startled by the emergency bell, and toppled sideways into the ready arms of Number Two. The children hadn’t even time to trade looks of alarm before the bell stopped ringing, the lights went out, and Constance screamed. And then, after much jostling and elbow-bumping and fumbling in the dark, Kate found her flashlight and switched it on, and Constance was gone.

“Where’d she go?” Reynie cried.

“Maybe she went down to the landing like we’re supposed to,” said Sticky.

“Somehow I doubt it,” said Kate.

“Okay, all of you,” said Rhonda urgently as Number Two tried to shake Mr. Benedict awake, “hurry down to the landing at once. Milligan will meet you there, and he can find Constance if necessary. Number Two and I will join you as soon as Mr. Benedict wakes up. Now run!”

The children stumbled from the room — Kate leading the way with her flashlight — and out into the dark hallway. With the thunder rumbling and wind moaning and rain beating on the roof, it would be quite impossible to hear someone sneaking up on them, and the children, aware of this, clung to one another in the darkness as they found their way to the stairs. Trembling at each fresh burst of thunder, they made their way down to the landing. Kate’s flashlight beam passed over the bell, hanging silent and still, then fell upon a very sad face.

“Where’s Constance?” Milligan said.

“What did I tell you?” Kate said to the boys.

“We were hoping she’d be here,” said Reynie.

Milligan looked grim, even more so than usual. “She may have slipped past me in the dark. This complicates things. No time to take you to a safe place — if she’s in the maze we might lose her any second. But I can’t leave you here alone. You’ll have to come down with me.”

“Into the maze?” Sticky asked. “In the dark?”

“There’s no help for it. Now grab onto my jacket, Sticky, and you others grab onto him. Whatever you do, stay with me. And Kate, turn off your flashlight. It will only help them find you.”

“Them?”

“Yes,” Milligan said. “They’ve come for you. Now don’t speak.”

None of the children spoke (though two of them gulped), and down into the maze they went. The lights were out here too — they no longer came on when you entered a room. It was perfectly black, and in this perfect blackness they moved, stalking from room to room, until Milligan suddenly froze. The children caught their breath. At first Reynie saw nothing. Then, looking behind him, he glimpsed two flashlight beams passing through one of the other rooms. He squeezed Sticky’s arm. Sticky squeezed back even harder.

From the direction of the flashlights came a sudden cry of pain — it was Constance’s voice — followed by a thudding sound, as of someone falling to the floor. A man’s voice hissed, “I have her!”

“Come,” Milligan whispered, hurrying toward the lights. The children followed, holding fast to one another. It was awkward walking so quickly together in the dark, and though Kate moved with the grace of a cat, the boys stumbled trying to keep up. Perhaps they slowed Milligan’s progress too much, for when they entered the room a few moments later, the flashlights were gone. The room lay black and still. It seemed quite empty except for a sharp, spicy fragrance that lingered in the air.

“I smell your cologne,” Milligan said, speaking into the darkness.

“I hope you like it,” said a man’s voice. The flashlights snapped on behind them, casting their shadows onto the wall. “Now, please turn around. Turn around very slowly. Let’s all stay nice and calm.”

Milligan started to turn, but the terrified children, realizing they’d been tricked and not wanting to believe it, clutched at one another and did not move.

“That’s a little
too
slow,” said the voice. “Come on now. Let’s have a look at you. Don’t worry, we won’t shine the lights in your eyes. I know that’s uncomfortable.”

Milligan pressed the children’s shoulders and slowly turned them toward the voice. The man had spoken the truth — the flashlights were pointed downward — and in the glow cast by their beams Reynie could just make out who carried them. He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but it wasn’t this: two handsome men, one of them impressively tall, staring back at him with pleasant, welcoming expressions. The men wore tailored suits and large, expensive-looking silver watches, and over their suits they wore fine long raincoats that dripped water onto the floor. Both smiled in an unexpectedly friendly way. In fact, their bright smiles — along with their elegant appearance — were for an instant so surprising and disarming that Reynie almost relaxed. Almost. But then his eyes fell on a lumpy canvas bag in the shadows behind them. Out of the bag poked one of Constance’s tiny feet.

“Did you really think we couldn’t hear you coming?” asked the tall man. He spoke cheerfully, as if he and the children were sharing a joke. “Why, you’re a herd of buffalo! Now raise your hands above your heads, please.”

Reynie was frightened, but he couldn’t see why they should obey. The men seemed to carry no weapons. But Milligan did as the man said — obviously he knew something Reynie didn’t — and so with hearts galloping, Reynie and Kate let go of each other and raised their hands, too. Sticky, however, had grown confused in his fright and would not let go of Milligan’s jacket.

“Please tell the bald boy to raise his hands,” insisted the tall man.

“It’s all right, Sticky,” said Milligan. “Do as he says, child. Come now, let go.”

At last Sticky managed to release his grip. The moment he did so — and to the great surprise of everyone present — Milligan leaped toward an open doorway and vanished from the room. He had moved so quickly, and so unexpectedly, that no one had a moment to react before he was gone. The men looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Reynie felt his mouth go dry. Sticky let out a whimper.

“Some protector!” laughed the shorter man. “I must say, he did a fine job protecting
himself
. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”

The tall man chuckled. “Did he seem familiar to you at all?”

“Now that you mention it, he did,” said the other, scratching his head. “Though I can’t place how. Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Kate demanded. Though her legs trembled, her voice was defiant.

The tall man tucked his flashlight under his arm and held out both hands, palms forward, in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. “Now just stay calm,” he soothed. Meanwhile the shorter man was doing exactly the same thing — tucking away his flashlight and holding out his hands. It was then that Reynie noticed that the men’s huge silver watches were identical, and that for some reason they each wore
two
— one watch on each wrist.

“If you children stay nice and still,” said the tall man, flashing a sympathetic smile, “I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”

“Oh, come on, let’s tell the truth for once,” said the other. “Just for kicks.”

The tall man rolled his eyes. “All right, the truth is that this will hurt. A
lot
. But if you hold still,” he said, shaking his arms to clear the watches from his suit cuffs, “I promise it won’t hurt
long
.”

Reynie felt Kate and Sticky stiffen beside him. They didn’t know what was coming, but they knew it was going to be awful. The men started laughing again. Reynie heard an electrical hum….

Abruptly, the laughter ceased. It was interrupted by two odd whistling sounds —
swit
,
swit
— upon which the tall man closed his eyes, dropped his flashlight with a clatter, and sank to the floor. The other did exactly the same, slumping unconscious on top of his partner. The flashlights, rolling free, sent their bright beams willy-nilly about the room.

One of the beams settled on the doorway behind the fallen men, where Milligan now stood holding a tranquilizer gun. He stepped over to pluck two tiny feathered darts from the men’s shoulders, saying as he did so, “Remember, children. For every exit, there is also an entrance.”

The dining room seemed an altogether different place now. The rain had let up, the drafts were gone, and bright sunlight streamed through the window. Yet the mood in the room was dark. On the table the children’s breakfast lay just as they had left it — only an hour had passed since Reynie asked Milligan for tea and honey — but the teapot and honey jar might well have been props in a play, so unreal and insignificant did they seem now.

Everyone sat at the table except Constance, who was sitting on the floor. The men in the maze had given Constance quite a shock (an actual shock, delivered by way of wires that flicked like snakes’ tongues from their watches, she’d said), and she remained somewhat addled. Her wispy blond hair stuck out in all directions like a small child’s drawing of a sun, and her eyes seemed to roam about independently of each other. Moments before, she had walked in a circle around her chair — attempting without success to sit in it — then dropped to her bottom on the floor, where she said she believed she would sit for the time being.

Mr. Benedict was watching her with concern. “Are you sure she’s all right, Rhonda? You examined her carefully?”

Rhonda nodded. “She’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay, who were those men?” Kate blurted out.

“Professional kidnappers,” Mr. Benedict said. “Crafty fellows who work for the Sender. You’ll recall he uses children to send his messages.”

“So he
captures
them?” Kate said.

“He has subtler methods, too. But some children, yes, he captures. His scouts have an uncanny nose for vulnerable children. Don’t worry, they’ve been deposited far from here and will be unconscious for quite some time, thanks to Milligan.”

Number Two clucked her tongue. “If only Constance hadn’t gone into the maze. Constance, why on earth did you decide to go down there, anyway?”

“I didn’t
decide
to,” Constance snapped. “I was trying to go down to the landing like Mr. Benedict told us to” — the boys looked at Kate, who acknowledged with a shrug that she’d been wrong — “but I tiptoed down one flight of steps too many. Then I heard someone behind me, so I went deeper into the maze to get away. But they found me,” she said with a shiver. “They definitely found me.”

Number Two patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Connie, you’re safe now.”

“Don’t call me Connie,” she said crossly. She rose unsteadily from the floor and made another attempt at the chair. This time she managed to climb into it.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Constance,” said Mr. Benedict.