The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity (14 page)

‘
Al Capone?
’
Joe repeated.
‘
He
’
s like the number one
gangster of all time, right?
’

‘
He does have something
of a reputation.
’

‘
His nickname was
Scarface, wasn
’
t it?
’

‘
I believe it was.
’

Joe nodded excitedly.
‘
I wish I had a cool nickname like that.
’

‘
What
’
s wrong with the one
you
’
ve
got?
’
Becky asked, irritated.
‘
I think Wally Foo Foo suits you just fine. Now, shut up!
’

‘
Eat me,
’
Joe barked back.

‘
Do you want to hear
about this or not? Uncle Percy asked testily.

‘
Sorry,
’
Becky and Joe said at
the same time.

Uncle Percy took a deep breath.
‘
As I was saying, it is alleged some of Al
Capone
’
s
men captured seven members of a rival gang, lined them against a wall in a
garage and shot them dead. The victims worked for the Irish mobster,
Bugs
Moran.
You see, Becky, I
’
m guessing Emerson
’
s spelling was just fine and dandy.
’

Becky considered this for a moment.
 
‘
I
mean obviously that
’
s bad. I mean
really
bad. But at the end of the day there
’
s nothing to suggest
we
’
re
involved, is there? If we were, then surely we
’
d be in the history books and stuff.
’

Uncle Percy looked unconvinced.
‘
Well, err, time travelling is complicated.
Events can be changed, you know. The Omega Effect doesn
’
t always happen.
’

‘
I know,
’
Becky said,
‘
but we might only have
one chance to get this painting. One chance. We have to get it, and then get
out of here double quick - no gangsters, no garages, no hanging around.
’

‘
That
’
s right,
’
Joe concurred.

Uncle Percy eyes met Will
’
s, who nodded to indicate he agreed with Becky.

Uncle Percy looked defeated.
‘
Very well, I hope you
’
re right.
’
He heaved open the
trap door, to reveal a ladder that led below.
‘
Come on then…
’

Eagerly, Joe followed Uncle Percy down, trailed by Will, leaving
Becky to bring up the rear, feeling happy she had got her way, but racked with
bitterness that her first Valentine
’
s Day card had come from a murderous psychopath.

Chapter 14

The Man with Many Names …

Becky climbed down the ladder to find herself in a cramped store
room. Uncle Percy inched open the door, peered out, and upon seeing the coast
was clear, ushered them into a long, dimly-lit corridor at the end of which was
a lift. Reaching it quickly, they gathered inside as Uncle Percy pressed the
button marked
‘
Lobby.
’

As they descended, Becky found herself nervous, scared and angry.
Emerson Drake knew they were here. How? Did he watch her read the card? And
what did his message to Uncle Percy mean? Her mind spiralled, searching for
answers, when her thoughts were cut short by the clang of a bell. The lift
doors opened and they stepped out. The view took Becky
’
s breath away.

Enormous golden chandeliers shed light over the vast lobby as hordes
of elegantly dressed men and women sat on velvet seats, sipping champagne and
talking in loud, snooty voices; dozens of bell-hops, sporting circular red
hats, raced in all directions, heaving bulky suitcases. A banner that read
‘
Christie
’
s Charity Auction -
‘
A Taste of the
Caribbean
’
fluttered high above two bronze winged statues which surveyed the room like
gleaming sentries.

‘
Very posh!
’
Joe said, impressed.

‘
Indeed, Joe,
’
Uncle Percy said,
looking more relaxed now than he
’
d been in the last few minutes.
‘
I
’
ve never actually visited the Palmer House Hotel before … she really
is a treat, isn
’
t she? If I can draw your attention upwards.
’

Becky looked up to see the most spectacular ceiling. Hand-painted
with rich, vibrant colours, there were twenty one giant frescoes, each one
depicting a different mythological scene.

‘
Painted by French
muralist, Louis Pierre Rigal, in 1900,
’
Uncle Percy said enthusiastically,
‘
each panel features a
famous Greek myth. For example, if you look over there…
’
he gestured to their
left,
‘
you
may recognise that particular one. It does, after all, include a couple of our
friends.
’

Becky looked over to see that one of the frescoes contained the
image of a ferocious-looking Minotaur engaged in a mighty battle with a
muscular Greek warrior.

‘
Theseus and the
Minotaur,
’
Joe laughed.

‘
Since when did the
real Theseus look like Jason Statham?
’
Becky said.

Uncle Percy looked baffled.
‘
Who?
’

This time, it was Becky who gave a disapproving tut.

‘
Anyway,
’
Uncle Percy said.
‘
Much as I would
appreciate investigating the lobby further, the Auction starts in ten minutes.
And I think we should take a peek at the lots, don
’
t you?
’

Becky trailed Uncle Percy into another room where she saw row upon
row of tables, buckling under the weight of thousands of pieces of pirate
paraphernalia: cutlasses, muskets, cannons, boarding axes, jewelry, tattered
black flags emblazoned with white skulls, and even a ship
’
s figurehead in the
shape of a mermaid.

‘
This-is-ace…
’
Joe gushed.

‘
It brings the
schoolboy out in me, too, Joe.
’
Uncle Percy pulled out a booklet from his pocket.

‘
What
’
s that?
’
Becky asked,
intrigued.

‘
It
’
s the auction
brochure,
’
Uncle Percy replied.
‘
I had Barbie acquire it for me in advance.
’
He flicked it open to
a page Becky couldn
’
t quite see.

‘
Yeah, but we know what
we
’
re
buying,
’
Becky said, slightly confused.
‘
The painting that was in the optomediaphibic folio, aren
’
t we?
’

With a disinterested grunt, Uncle Percy continued to peruse the
page, glancing up from time to time to look around the room.

Becky was about to scold him for his lack of interest in what would
be their million dollar investment when she heard Joe say,
‘
And there it is …
’

Becky looked over to a collection of paintings being scrutinised by
a crowd of engrossed onlookers. One painting, in particular, had captured their
attention. It captured Becky
’
s, too. Twice the size of the others, the portrait of Blackbeard
looked positively fearsome. Sitting on a huge golden throne and wearing his
finest regalia, Blackbeard could have been mistaken for royalty, except for the
ferocity of his expression; his sunken eyes were so wild they appeared to pop
out of the canvas, his gritted yellowing teeth barely visible behind the
untamed mass of pitch-black whiskers. He held a cutlass in one hand and a
gleaming silver compass in the other.

‘
Scary guy,
’
Joe whispered to
Becky.
‘
So,
if it
’
s a
marker then how
’
s it going to work?
’

‘
I dunno,
’
Becky replied.
‘
Maybe there
’
s a map on the back.
’

Joe
’
s eyes ignited.
‘
Or maybe it has something to do with the compass? Maybe there are
clues all over the painting? We just have to know what to look for.
’

Becky arched round to ask Uncle Percy
’
s thoughts on the matter but to her surprise he
wasn
’
t
even looking at the painting. He was talking in hushed tones to Will, the
brochure wide open before them. His finger flicked between the brochure and a
small painting to their left, depicting a pretty but sad-looking woman and a
newborn baby wrapped tightly in a thick woolen blanket.

Becky looked confused.
‘
You do know the painting you
’
re about to spend a million dollars on is this
one, don
’
t
you?
’
She
pointed at the portrait of Blackbeard.

‘
What?
’
Uncle Percy glanced
over but appeared to lack any genuine interest.
‘
It is impressive, isn
’
t it?
’
he said
half-heartedly.

At that moment, they heard a voice from behind.
‘
Ah, the Halifax party
has finally decided to show. Greetings. I was getting worried.
’

Becky felt a stab of fear, until she saw a short, rotund gentleman
with a shiny head shuffle towards them. He wore a tartan kilt which barely
covered his bulbous knees, a horsehair sporran,
 
and a snow-white tuxedo that struggled to contain his ample midriff.
Becky recognised him at once as Keith Pickleton, Uncle Percy
’
s friend and fellow
time traveller.

‘
Keith,
’
Uncle Percy replied,
extending his hand.
‘
I
’
m so glad you came.
’

‘
A pleasure, old chap,
’
Pickleton replied,
although Becky detected a hint of doubt in his voice. Then he whispered,
‘
Any sign of the bad
guys?
’

Uncle Percy shook his head.
‘
Not as yet.
’

‘
Smashing,
’
Pickleton said,
sounding relieved.
‘
Not that they worry me, you understand?
’

‘
Of course not.
’

‘
But we don
’
t want any bother,
’
Pickleton added.

‘
Indeed, we don
’
t,
’
Uncle Percy replied.
‘
Anyway, although the
irony is not lost on me, time isn
’
t on our side, so do you think you and I could have a quiet word?
’
 
He led Pickleton out of earshot and soon the
two of them were deep in conversation; every now and again, they would glance
up at the Blackbeard portrait before refocusing on the open brochure.

‘
What
’
s he up to? Joe
whispered to an equally confused Becky.

‘
No idea,
’
Becky replied. She
watched intrigued as Uncle Percy slipped something into Pickleton
’
s right hand, which
the little man subsequently thrust into his sporran.

After a few seconds, a grave looking Pickleton gave a firm nod and
disappeared through a door, above which was a sign that read,
‘
Charity Auction
–
this way!
’

Uncle Percy walked over to Becky, Joe and Will.

‘
You didn
’
t mention any other
travellers being here?
’
Becky asked.

‘
I
’
ve invited Keith for a
reason,
’
Uncle Percy said mysteriously.
‘
And now we
’
re here, I
’
m rather glad that I did.
’

‘
Why?
’

‘
Well, before
–’
Uncle Percy stopped
mid-sentence; his face turned deathly pale.

Becky knew immediately something was very wrong.
‘
What is it?
’
Uncle Percy didn
’
t reply. She tracked
his eyeline and a lump caught in her throat. A group of men had entered the
viewing room, colossal men wearing heavy black coats and mirrored sunglasses.
However, it was only when she saw the towering, flaxen-haired man at the rear
of the group that she felt sick to her core.

Otto Kruger
’
s eyes locked on Becky, and a heartless smile crossed his lips.

Becky sensed movement to her right. Will had spotted Kruger and was
marching over to him, fists clenched.

Uncle Percy threw himself into Will
’
s path.
‘
Will, please,
’
he begged.
‘
Not here. Not now.
’

‘
No, Will!
’
Joe yelled.

Upon hearing Joe
’
s voice, Will
’
s anger dissipated.

The disorder, however, seemed to delight Otto Kruger all the more.
He nudged his companions and they walked over.

Kruger moved promptly to Will, his smile widening.
‘
Please, groundsman …
carry out what I know you are keen to start. Nothing would give me more
pleasure.
’

For once, Will maintained his composure.
‘
One day, Kruger. One
day…
’

‘
Make it today.
’
Kruger
’
s huge hands fanned the
collection of weapons lain on the tables.
‘
Pick one, and we shall do this now…
’

Before Will could respond, a tall, willowy man with a gaunt face and
a thick dark-brown moustache approached them. He was carrying a two-handled
leather briefcase.
‘
Mr Kruger, this is not a place for brawling,
’
he said, a slight
trace of a European accent in his voice. He turned to Uncle Percy.
‘
Could this be
the
Percy Halifax? The one I
’
ve heard so much about.
’
He glanced at Kruger who nodded.