under the curtains, through the landing and on through the next open door, her jaw dropped as she took in the vast array of television screens, all of which showed different views of every single room in the château.
‘This is awesome,’ said Hector, whose line in hyperbole was unrivalled.
Kate, however, was gripped, not by the vast array of television screens, but by the surprising window, which had handles around its side. It was made, not of glass, but of polythene. It flapped gently in the wind. Outside the window Kate could see the beginnings of a huge rope slide.
‘Wow,’ said Hector, following Kate’s gaze, ‘let’s try it now!’
‘I really don’t think you should,’ said Mrs Warp as she entered the room, ‘For one thing, it is far too dangerous, and for another, it is time for lunch.’
‘Then why is it here?’ asked Hector.
‘It is there so anyone can escape if things get tricky. After all, this is not a normal house.’ said Mrs Warp, her usual kind smile returning.
Lunch turned out to be a vast selection of salad, meats and fruits. There were supposed to be sausages, but they had been taken, Mrs Warp explained, with a glance to the young man who had appeared at the kitchen door.
The man began to talk in French, and both Kate and Hector were surprised with the apparent ease with which Mrs Warp slipped into what they assumed was fluent French. Mrs Warp turned to Kate and Hector.
‘Do you like dogs?’ asked Mrs Warp, ‘only our gardener has been looking after his uncle’s dog. His uncle died two days ago, and no one wants the dog. You could play with it in the grounds this afternoon if you liked.’
‘His name is Bandit,’ explained the gardener in a thick accent, ‘And he is a terrible thief.’
‘Does he keep getting caught?’ asked Hector.
‘No, it’s the fact that he keeps stealing things,’ explained Mrs Warp, ‘and he has just been caught with the sausages that were for lunch.’
A young chocolate brown labrador appeared in the doorway, complete with a permanently happy look.
‘Ahh, you are soooo cute,’ exclaimed Kate, rushing to cuddle the dog.
This was what Bandit did best. He seduced his victims, stole their food, and then looked cute again so he would be forgiven. It was a constant cycle of looking cute, stealing and eating. Bandit was very good at it. He could already tell that the young female would forgive him easily, while the boy had a sticky look which, at the very least, would mean he would be good to lick.
In the garden that afternoon Bandit was more than fun. He was a runner, a jumper, and great at hide and seek. In fact, he was too good. He just used his nose. Kate noticed that when Hector went to hide while she covered Bandit’s eyes, Bandit would follow the exact path Hector had run, even if Hector had gone in zig-zags. Following a scent was just easy for him.
Bandit found other things he was not supposed to find. Hector and Kate did not know that police officers, trained by the French Special Forces, were positioned in the garden in hides dug into the ground. They could not be seen, but Bandit could smell them, and their holes in the ground were his favourite toilets. Every time Bandit trotted off to the toilet there would be a yell of complaint as a French police officer emerged covered in dog wee.
Some of the French police officers thought the whole thing was very funny, but these were generally not the ones that Bandit had used as a toilet. By late afternoon there was a gathering of police officers on the drive. Some of them wanted to get rid of Bandit, while others still thought the whole thing was funny. Kate and Hector sat with Bandit between them watching. One officer seemed to be claiming that someone had stolen his lunch, and the glances in their direction told Hector and Kate that Bandit was head of the suspect list. To be fair, Kate reflected, Bandit would be at the top of anyone’s suspect list.
Bandit was leaning on Kate, and Kate could see that Hector was leaning on Bandit. As Kate watched an exceptionally tall man with a suitcase approach the police officers, it occurred to her that Bandit was with them now, and she rather liked the idea. Bandit was probably not much use in a tight spot, but if they were murdered by an assassin Bandit would probably make sure the assassin went without lunch.
The tall man was now walking towards them, removing his hat.
‘So this is the Hound of the Baskervilles?’ he asked, smiling, ‘My name is Gary Rhodes,’ he continued in an Australian accent, ‘and I’m here to provide some information.’
‘Are you a police officer as well?’ Kate asked.
‘No, no, well not really. I work for the Australian Government. I need to talk to you inside.’
A short time later they were in the kitchen with Mrs Warp, Gary Rhodes and, strangely, the gardener. Kate and Hector began to suspect that he was really a police officer as well.
Gary Rhodes explained that he had already seen Kate and Hector’s parents. He had news; there was an Australian assassin, known commonly as Sludge, on their trail.
‘We think he was in England on his way to you there, as he can’t travel on normal aircraft flights,’ said Gary.
In answer to Hector’s unspoken question, Gary produced a photograph of a short, stumpy man with a misshapen face and no hair.
‘He is too easy to identify, and far too large.’
‘He looks tiny,’ exclaimed Hector.
‘Yeah,’ replied Gary, ‘he looks tiny in the photograph. He is really six and a half feet tall, but very broad, which is why he looks small in pictures. He is incredibly tough, strong, tenacious...well terrifying actually.’
‘He looks like a troll,’ said Kate as she took the photograph from Hector.
‘Yes, and he’s about as bright as one. He grew up in Australia’s toughest institutions for young offenders, where he terrified the staff. He left aged thirteen when he stole a car belonging to the head of security. They were rather pleased, as he had taken to thumping holes in the walls and had began to experiment on the main beams supporting the building. He’s about thirty-two now, and has survived five shootings by various police forces around the world.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Kate, ‘He’s like a vampire; he can’t be killed.’
‘No, no,’ said Gary reassuringly, ‘He’s been lucky in part, but he is also very tough.’
‘If he is that large, and he looks like a camel’s bottom, why haven’t you caught him yet?’ asked Hector.
‘We have, several times,’ said Gary. ‘The police in Singapore caught him first. If you include the seven with life-threatening injuries, twenty-nine officers managed to wrestle him into a police van. Not the largest coppers, but very brave. They were exhausted, but then had to watch while Sludge just punched a hole in the side of the van and ran off.’
‘We, that is the Australians, caught him when he was foolish enough to catch a scheduled flight home on a fake passport. In fact, you might like to see the passport.’
A photocopied sheet was pushed towards Kate and Hector showing a lopsided figure with
