The Beasts of Upton Puddle (17 page)

Passing through the glasshouse, Joe saw yet more botanical oddities. One plant, perhaps because of its resemblance to the fruit in his basket, might have been the daddy moons' blight that Mrs. Merrynether mentioned, but most of the others looked even more bizarre than the ones outside. He didn't stop to look at them for long, mainly because he wanted to get rid of his heavy load but partly because at least one of the inhabitants didn't seem to like him very much. The offended vegetable, not unlike a bunch of uprooted carrots with a collective beard, puckered up and rustled an array of wide yellow leaves at him. If Joe didn't know better, he could have sworn they had somehow scrunched together in a way that imitated an irritated version of his face as he stepped through the exit and into the mansion.

Joe closed the door behind him, pausing to collect his thoughts and process the last few moments of bewilderment, then made his way along the passageway to find the entrance to the cellar. He entered the vault a minute later, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement at what he might find. The same unusual smells and sounds greeted him as he set the basket down just inside the door, but Cornelius's enclosure had been cleaned out and there was no sign of Flarp or Danariel either. Joe looked around for Heinrich.

The tall man, dressed as usual in his heavy overcoat, was at his desk again, asleep this time, slumped
over a pad of writing paper, somehow oblivious to Joe's entrance and the sounds of the animals. A fountain pen balanced on the thumb of his right hand, threatening to clatter onto the desk, and a half-full mug of tea rested on a slab of well-used blotting paper. It was the second time Joe had caught him writing. A fresh wave of curiosity possessed Joe's feet, and before he knew it, he had tiptoed up to the desk, determined to see exactly what Heinrich was writing that was so secret.

Heinrich's left elbow and face obscured most of the sheet he had been writing on, but the first few lines of the letter were clearly visible—if he could just get a little closer. A musky odor drifted from the old coat, and Joe held his breath as he leaned in, momentarily fascinated by the stretch of shiny skin twisting the old man's burnt features. Heinrich stirred. Joe froze.

A trembling nerve fidgeted on one of Heinrich's eyelids, and for one numbing second, Joe feared they would be staring eye to eye. But Heinrich remained still.

Joe looked at the paper.

Heinrich's elbow hid the rest. Joe considered sliding the sheet upwards so that he could read a little more. Touching his top lip with his tongue, Joe held the sheet between finger and thumb. Before making his delicate move, he noticed a small felt pouch near the cup of tea. Something glimmered just inside the opening. Distracted by this new discovery, Joe left the letter and prodded at the pouch. Three sparkling diamonds tumbled out, and Joe could not help but release a sudden gasp at the sight of them. Was Heinrich really going to send two of these in the post to this Jimmy person? And who was Jimmy anyway?

But Joe had no time to speculate.

An iron grip clamped the top of his arm, and Heinrich's eyes flicked open.

“Thief!” Heinrich rasped. “Come for the diamonds, have you?”

“I . . . No!” Joe tried to move, but the old man's fingers tightened like pliers. “Mrs. Merrynether sent me down for the next shopping list.”

With a slight wobble, Heinrich raised himself from his chair, still holding Joe firmly by the arm. “And you thought you would help yourself to some valuables while you were at it, hmm?”

“I didn't even know you
had
any diamonds until a minute ago,” Joe protested, still struggling. “And who's Jimmy anyway? I saw your letter.”

Heinrich's fingers loosened, and his eyes flickered as if he'd been slapped across the cheek.

Taking full advantage of Heinrich's momentary shock, Joe wrenched his arm as hard as he could and managed to free himself.

Heinrich made no further attempt to grab Joe but swayed slightly, as though groggy from a day's worth of sleeping. He shook his head, gave Joe a studious look as if mulling over a difficult clue for a crossword puzzle, then turned back to his desk to snatch the letter away.

The phone rang, startling them both.

Heinrich huffed with frustration, looking from Joe to the letter in his hand to the phone hanging on the wall not far from his desk.

“Who's Jimmy?” Joe said.

Heinrich stuffed the letter into his coat pocket and, with his bleary gaze still on Joe, lurched to pick up the receiver. “Merrynether Veterinary Practice.”

Joe heard a monotone female voice.

Heinrich pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I have already told you for the fourth time today: Mrs. Merrynether does not wish to see Mr. Redwar and will
not
be arranging an appointment.”

The female voice droned again.

“No. As I said, she will not be available.”

More droning, and Heinrich moved his attention from Joe fully to the conversation.

Feeling like he was waiting for a headmaster's detention, Joe shifted his feet, rubbing his sore arm. He was about to sit in Heinrich's chair when a familiar blue light shone through the door leading from the cellar. It intensified around the handle, and a moment later, the door swung open to reveal Danariel fluttering in her
usual butterfly-like fashion.

Directly behind her, Flarp bobbed, his euphoric stare directly upon the seraph.

“Danariel! Flarp!” Joe beamed.

“Hello, Joe. Can't stop, I'm afraid. There's mischief afoot in the mansion that Mrs. Merrynether needs to know about.” And with a brief smile, Danariel flitted past him and out through the door to the glasshouse, pursued by the eager globble.

Heinrich slammed the phone onto its hook and stared at the floor, balling his fists, breathing hard.

Joe backed away and resisted the urge to run.

“Why won't they leave her alone?” Heinrich ranted.

“Who?”

Heinrich looked up, shocked, as if he'd forgotten Joe was there. With a disgruntled sigh, he frowned back at the stone floor. Again Joe noticed a slight unsteadiness in his posture.

“Redwar's people. They still want to buy the mansion from her.”

“But surely they can't force—”

“Why won't they leave us alone?” Heinrich groaned, apparently distracted by a number of worrying thoughts. He rattled his head for a second time, as if trying to flush a foreign object from his ear.

“Are you all right, Heinrich?”

“I feel a little . . . tired.” Then with a sheepish glance at Joe, he said, “I did not mean to hurt you. I'm sorry if I did.”

“It's okay. I honestly wasn't trying to take your diamonds, you know.”

Danariel's blue aura returned through the glasshouse door, trailed as before by the indomitable Flarp and hotly followed by a furious Mrs. Merrynether. She glared at Heinrich as she stomped past, and Joe heard the cellar door slam after she exited the other side of the vault.

Heinrich's eyes widened, and he nodded slowly. “I think she is angry.”

“With you?”

“It certainly looks that way, but I do not—” His mouth twisted into the horrified expression of a man who sneezed into a vicar's dinner. “Cornelius. I don't hear Cornelius,” he said with a gulp.

Joe took a step back.

Heinrich spun on his heels, almost falling over. Like a man with his feet on fire, he staggered around the other side of the enclosure, dropping to examine a large iron ring fastened to a concrete slab. “Oh no!”

“What is it?” Joe asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“There was a rope tied to this. And tied to the rope was . . .”

“Cornelius?”

Heinrich nodded grimly.

“Where is he?” Joe glanced tentatively around the vault. “He couldn't have got outside, could he?”

The befuddled keeper stared at Joe with his lips
flapping, but all he could do was shrug.

“How could you have slept through—?” Joe almost choked on the end of his sentence.

The door to the vault smashed open and shuddered against the wall. Danariel and Flarp shot through the opening, and Joe saw for the first time a look of alarm on the seraph's face. She sped in several tight circles like a burst balloon and darted all the way to the other end of the vault, apparently trying to hide. It was then that Joe noticed at least three of the previously occupied enclosures were empty, their doors wide open. Flarp decided to make one of them his own hideout and flopped his shaking amorphous form under a pile of straw.

The source of their panic became apparent as the sound of Mrs. Merrynether's stamping feet and furious shouting echoed down the stairs. “Heinrich Krieger! You have gone
much
too far this time. Have you seen what that maddening midget has done?”

Despite her size, she seemed to fill the entire door frame as she entered. In one hand she held a coiled rope and in the other an empty wine bottle, which she wielded by its neck like a mace. “Have you, Heinrich?” her screeching reached an entirely new octave.

“I—”

“Lilly has not only constructed an entire drinking bar in room sixteen under your very nose, using every last bottle of our vintage collection, but he has done so using items from inside this very vault!” Her tone
sank into a dangerous whisper. “Do you recognize this, Heinrich?”

Heinrich stared at the rope. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“Lilly used it to construct a pulley system with which to haul heavy crates of alcohol. The fact that he managed to untie the manticore without being maimed is beyond belief, but what is even more remarkable is that you didn't even notice.” She paused for effect, then continued very slowly. “Do you, by some random stroke of luck, happen to know where Cornelius might actually be at this precise moment in time?”

Heinrich squinted, as if he had been asked a trick question, then shook his head nervously.

“He's in the driveway of the mansion in plain view with one leg in the air cleaning his . . . his . . .” She waved the bottle in the air. “And the whole wide world could watch if they wanted to.”

Joe stifled a laugh with a snort. Whether it was out of hilarity or fear, Joe was uncertain, but the urge to chuckle fell away instantly as Mrs. Merrynether lanced him with a withering look.

He avoided her glare and turned quickly to look at Heinrich, who was shrinking away. To Joe he looked like an old tortoise who had made a tentative attempt to come out of hibernation, only to be beaten back into his shell by an icy wind. If he could have retracted his entire head below his shoulders and left only a shell, Heinrich surely would have tried.

Mrs. Merrynether was not about to let Heinrich off so easily. “Do you know what else I found up there?”

“Uh . . . no.”

“Cage locks.”

“Cage locks?”

“Yes, cage locks,” she snapped.

Moving nothing but his eyes, which slowly looked toward the open enclosures, Heinrich breathed out a short gasp.

“That impudent cluricaun took at least four cage locks from our enclosures and fitted them to his own crates full of our wine.”

Heinrich groaned as she continued.

“None of this would ever have happened if you hadn't let him escape in the first place.” She threw the rope at him. “You can start by bringing that manticore back into the vault. Then you can go and find the other five creatures, and you'd better not come back until you've rounded up each and every one of them.”

“Other five?” Heinrich asked. “I thought there were only four others.”

“Not if you include that meddlesome Irish nightmare. I want him back here and locked up too. Am I clear?”

Heinrich nodded ruefully and scooped up the rope from the floor, casting Joe a fearful look as he coiled it. At first Joe thought the look was just part of his reaction to Mrs. Merrynether's verbal hammering, but then he saw the pleading expression showing through and
knew that, even in the midst of this emergency, Heinrich was still thinking of the letters.

“And where is Kiyoshi?” Mrs. Merrynether looked around and scowled. “If you've lost him too, I'll—”

“He is safe,” said Heinrich, nodding toward his desk.

Mrs. Merrynether walked to the desk, then looked at the floor into an antique mahogany box that appeared to be about the right size to hold a person's head. Joe watched, eager to see what kind of creature it was. How could he have missed it earlier?

Mrs. Merrynether sighed with relief after looking inside and was just about to turn away from the desk when she caught sight of something. Both Joe and Heinrich held their breath, wondering if any evidence of secret letter writing was visible. Fortunately for Heinrich, she picked up his mug of tea instead and held it under her nose. “How was it that Lilly was able to get away with all of this?” she asked, dipping her little finger into the cold beverage.

“I fell asleep, Ronnie.” He shook his head, as if he knew it was not a good enough reason.

“A cluricaun enters the vault, steals a manticore, frees several more creatures, and you slept through that?”

She sucked her wet finger and smacked her lips several times, testing the tea. “I knew it. I can taste a hint of St. Martha's lullaby. I thought some of it had gone missing from my crop. Lilly drugged you.”