Keppelberg (11 page)

‘It's my job!' I countered defensively. ‘I'm employed to be there to stop strangers coming in!'

She snorted angrily and swept out of the cafeteria in disgust. I followed her out to go back home. It was my intention to find out from Robert what really was going on. However the house was empty. I pressed on to the school to discover dozens of children in the playground chanting at the top of their voices.

‘We want our freedom... freedom is our aim,' they shouted time and time again, some of them doing so from the roof of the building,

I had known many children who had hated school in my early days and who tried every trick in the book to avoid going there but I had never seen anything quite like this. They were fervent in their appeal, raising their fists in the air in anger as they chanted, and not one of the teachers was able to bring them under control. They milled to and fro and one of the girls on the roof slipped and broke her arm as she fell to the ground requiring someone to take her to the surgery for treatment. I managed to catch the sleeve of one young boy and pulled him aside.

‘What are you after? What do you want?' I demanded urgently. ‘Why are you doing this?'

‘You're the stranger,' he retorted. ‘I'm not allowed to speak to you!'

He tore himself away from my grasp and raced away to join the rest of the children who continued to chant. I could see Townsend at the other end of the school yard talking to the Headmaster but he seemed to be taking no notice of the riot. It was presumably his intention to allow the children to wear themselves out and redress the situation on the following day.

In due course, I found Robert and took hold of his arm. He struggled for a while and then gave up.

‘I warned you this morning,' he stated firmly. ‘But you won't understand why we're taking this action.'

His words were so prefect, his elocution so good, that I wondered how a small boy could make such a statement. Then I remembered that he had told me he was forty-two years of age. Although he had the appearance of an eleven year old, he acted and sounded like a middle-aged man. It was most uncanny.

The riot broke up eventually and I walked home with Robert. He refused to take my hand and he wouldn't give me an explanation, so we walked back in silence. As we entered the house, he turned to me and grabbed my arm.

‘I like you,' he told me. ‘I like you a lot but I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it if I explained it to you. So let's forget it, shall we?'

I was too stunned to comment and, anyway, his mother entered the house at that moment, asking what was going on at the school. I felt annoyed that everyone was treating me like a child, telling me that I wouldn't understand. Surely someone could have explained what was going on. I would have been able to take it!

Ten minutes later, I returned to the cafeteria for lunch although I had lost my appetite. I wasn't suffering pain... it was more like a malaise as though I had eaten something that disagreed with me and I had noticed early in the morning that my eyes had become slightly jaundiced. I took it that the tablets I had been taking were having an effect, reducing the amount of iron in my blood.

There were a few people sitting at the tables eating and drinking and their main topic of conversation was the riot at the school. They rambled on gossiping about the incident although none of them had been there to witness what was happening. Then, after a short while, one of the women leaned across to my table inquisitively.

‘What happened at the school today, Mr. Security man?' She asked politely.

‘There was a riot by the children,' I told her flatly. ‘Apparently they smashed up the chairs and desks chanting ‘We want freedom... freedom is our aim'. But it's all over now. The children have returned home.'

‘Was anyone injured?

‘Only one. A girl broke her arm when she fell off the roof,' I explained briefly.

‘Did they say why they were rioting, other than shouting ‘freedom'.'

‘No.' I returned smartly. ‘That's all there was to it.'

I ordered my favourite steak, chips and peas only this time the woman behind the counter smiled at me in a strange way showing her approval.

‘I had a word with Bridget,' she told me eagerly as she took my order. ‘She says you two are getting along fine... real fine!' The smile on her face led me to believe that Bridget had been quite free with the news of our intimate relationship.

‘Yes we are,' I returned with the element of a smile on my face. ‘Real fine!'

The woman burst into laughter as she turned to prepare my lunch. It was quite evident that she knew much more about Bridget and myself than was necessary. However it had made me another friend in the village and there were few of those at the present time. The only person I could never get on my side was the Secretary... not in a hundred years!

That evening I was reading Westward Ho! While Bridget was reading the poems of Tennyson. We broke away from the books to have some tea and I decided to broach a different subject to her.

‘You say you've never been out of the village in your whole life,' I advanced. ‘Why don't you come with me to meet my sister? She doesn't live far from here. It'll be like an adventure.'

She stopped in her tracks to think about the suggestion before replying. ‘I don't think they'll allow either of us to leave the village,' she told me earnestly. ‘Anyone who wants to do so must get dispensation first and permission is impossible to achieve.'

‘Don't you want to meet my sister?' I asked wondering whether she wanted to or not.

‘I would love to meet her,' she replied, ‘but you'll have to ask Mr. Townsend for permission. You can't simply walk out of here.'

I shrugged my shoulders aimlessly angry that I would have to approach the Chairman for permission. I knew exactly what he would say, ‘Let me do it on my own at first,' I suggested. ‘There's a detective in the jail who's been chasing me to leave the village. My brother-in-law sent him to get me out of here. If I visit my sister, I can put her mind at rest. Why not come with me?'

She tossed the idea around in her mind for a few moments. ‘We'll go and see Mr. Townsend tomorrow for his dispensation and then we have to go to the police station for their permission.'

‘Do we really have to go through all that rigmarole just to leave here?' I was completely puzzled by the complicated procedure for someone wanting to leave the village.

‘I'm afraid so,' she replied. ‘If you think it's going to be easy you're wrong.'

‘Your parents did so, You told me that!'

‘That's right and I haven't heard of them since.'

‘Do you mean that someone here did something to them?'

‘I can't say. But they never contacted me again.'

I lay awake in the bed that night knowing that I would dream about the impossible task of going out into the real world. I twisted and turned between the sheets as I tried, in my sleep, to unfold a maze of secrets. Eventually, I fell into a deep slumber seeing Townsend shaking his head vigorously as he refused to grant me permission and the Desk Sergeant doing exactly the same thing, slamming the day book closed and leading me to one of the cells, locking the door behind me. Later, during the night, I sat up in bed wide awake from the terrible nightmare shouting at the top of my voice. I was drenched in perspiration and so were the sheets. Bridget who had been disturbed by my tossing and turning burst into laughter as I stared bleakly at the wall. The ordeal of leaving the village had already started... before I had spoken to anyone about it!

* * *

I was called to the police station by a young messenger the following day. Wayne was being released and the Desk Sergeant read him the Riot Act, turning to me when he had finished.

‘This is the man you said you know. We're releasing him today on his solemn promise that he won't return. I'd like you to escort him off the premises before we take further action against him' His terminology was so intimidating that Wayne's legs almost gave way beneath him.

‘I'll make sure he doesn't,' I told him, taking Wayne by the arm and leading him outside. ‘Look, Wayne!' I warned him. ‘Don't let me catch you here again or you're life will be forfeit. Tell Mary I'm going to visit her shortly. I want to set her mind at rest but there's no point in you chasing me here. Is that understood?'

He nodded his head as though he was a broken man, full of fear, unfit for any further detective work with my brother-in-law. I led him along the main path out of the village and bade him farewell for the last time. There was no doubt that he would never return to the village again. His problem was to determine where he would go from here. But it was his problem... not mine!

At lunchtime, I picked up Bridget and we went to find Townsend. He was at the village hall preparing for a committee meeting, examining some papers he intended to use, when we entered.

‘Mr. Townsend,' began Bridget in her dulcet tone of voice. ‘We'd like dispensation to leave the village for three days.'

He looked up, his lips twisting as he thought about her request. Clearly it was unusual for anyone to ask to leave the village and his body language led me to believe it.

‘Out of the question!' He retorted sharply. ‘Why do you want to leave?'

‘I want Bridget to meet my sister and brother-in-law,' I intervened quickly hoping to relieve her of the pressure.

‘For what reason?' The question was fired like an arrow from a cross-bow.

‘We may be getting married in the near future,' I told him boldly. ‘I want her to meet my family. You can't deny that I have one!'

‘We do not encourage strangers coming into the village or the villagers going outside,' he spat. ‘In any case, I'm not sure I approve of your marriage to each other.'

‘Come on now!' I returned feeling anger welling up inside me. ‘This is a free country. In the world out there, Moslems marry Christians, Catholics marry Anglicans, black people marry whites...'

‘That happens in the outside world... not here! The reasons you give are just cause for us to restrict people leaving our village. We don't like change, Mr. Ross. We resist it at all times. I won't change the rules just for you.'

‘Three days... that's all I ask. I promise I'll bring Bridget back if it bothers you that much.'

‘Indeed it does, Mr. Ross. Indeed it does! Once you leave this village everything will change. Promises become worthless. Of course it troubles me. I'm responsible for every person here. We have a population of eleven hundred people and it's vital to maintain it at that number.'

‘Why do you insist on that figure?' I demanded expecting him to reply cogently.

‘It's vital,' he went on. ‘As soon as we weaken and change the rules the village will go to the wall. We cannot afford that to happen. It must not happen!'

I considered his reply to be a complete over-reaction. What was the man wittering on about. The population would still be at eleven hundred when we returned. What difference did it make anyway?

‘You're doing an excellent job here, Mr. Townsend,' I continued in my ignorance, ‘but I think the situation has got to you. You're becoming paranoid. Our visit to my sister for three days will come and go so fast you won't even notice it.'

‘You misunderstand me, Mr. Ross,' he countered swiftly. ‘The ways of this village are most singular. The world outside doesn't understand us and there are rumours about our customs which they believe to be true. One of them is that we sacrifice a virgin each year at Halloween. The more we mix with other people, the more we weaken our community. As a result, I cannot endorse any plans you might have to leave the village.

‘And what if I take Bridget and we leave of our own accord?' I ventured, treading on very dangerous ground. ‘What could you do about it?'

‘For one thing,' he replied slowly, ‘I would ensure that neither of you could ever return. Mrs. McBain would leave her son here. She would never see him again.'

At that point, Bridget went into a spin. ‘No,' she cried out, ‘that must never happen.'

I turned to her in amazement. ‘We can always take Robert with us.'

A smile appeared at the corners of Townsend's mouth as he knew that he had won the battle. ‘There's a lot you don't know about us, Mr. Ross. I suggest that you set aside your venture to leave the village and stay with us here. It's far better for both of you in the long run, I assure you.'

Bridget held on to my arm with tears appearing in her eyes. ‘Listen to him, Sam,' she pleaded. ‘I can't lose Robert!'

I was stunned at her reaction. She had been so supportive earlier yet the threat against Robert had forced her to change her mind. The Chairman was absolutely right... I didn't know what was going on!

Later that evening, after my angst had reduced to a lower level, I decided to take the law into my own hands. There was a secret about Obadiah Keppelberg that needed to be revealed and I intended to find out about it. The convention, the rules, the details about the man and his work, and the village, were resting quietly somewhere inside the library and I was determined to find them. As it grew dark, I left the house and went to the end of the village where it was located. My father had been a master locksmith and he had taught me the rudiments of his trade. Subsequently, I had little difficulty in unlocking the door and entered the building surreptitiously. This was a Victorian village so there were no alarms or electronic devices to alert the authorities. As the library was at the far end of the village, I decided to risk lighting a paraffin lamp. I looked at the shelves with a multitude of books wondering where the important document would be kept. There were some cupboards on one side. I searched them eagerly in vain. As time went on, finding nothing at all, my attention turned to the statue of the great man. At the foot of it, there appeared to be a handle which I assumed was attached to a drawer. I went towards it just as PC7 entered.