was once again blindsided by the lady.
“Well, I, er, um,” he spluttered. “I can only apologise, Your Majesty, but this mammoth is probably only a year or so old. It’s a child, really.”
The Queen looked lost in thought for a moment. “Have you got any bigger ones?”
Lankester looked desperately around at the faces of the assembled great and good for help, but none came.
“Er, um, no. I am afraid not, ma’am. Finding any prehistoric creature, let alone one in such perfect condition, is extremely rare. This is the find of the century.”
“Mmm. My dear departed husband, Prince Albert, would have liked it. Such a shame he isn’t here with me to see this. Albert loved animals. I am more of an opera fan myself, aren’t I, Munshi?”
Her elegant companion smiled weakly. “You have a unique singing voice, Your Majesty.”
His wry answer made the old lady chuckle.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
The chuckle turned into a cough.
“Huh, huh, huh.”
A concerned Abdul steadied her.
“Thank you, Munshi. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Nor me without you, Your Majesty.”
The unlikely pair shared a smile, then the Queen looked back up at the mammoth.
“Does it do anything?” she enquired.
“I am so sorry, Your Majesty, what do you mean?” replied Lankester. Sweat was now pouring off his brow.
“Like a trick?” she asked with girlish excitement.
The museum’s director paused before he spoke, gathering his thoughts. “Sadly not, Your Majesty. This creature has been dead for ten thousand years. So, as dead goes, I would say you can’t get much deader. It’s as dead as dead can be.”
“Oh. That is a shame. I suppose it is rather pretty, if you like that sort of thing. Which I do.”
Lankester shuffled awkwardly. “Do you have any other questions, Your Majesty?”
The Queen thought for a moment. “When are we having the tea and cake? I was dragged halfway across London to come here. These days I don’t like to leave the palace too much. At my age, it all becomes a bit of a bother. But my eyes lit up at the promise of tea and cake, you see, and I haven’t seen so much as a scone.”
“I meant any questions about the mammoth, Your Majesty.”
“The what?”
“This creature here.”
“No,” replied the Queen with her customary bluntness.
“Shame it’s dead already,” came a deep voice from the shadows of the hall. “Or I would shoot it.”
All heads turned to see who had so rudely interrupted Her Majesty the Queen.
Out of the darkness stepped a figure dressed in a pith helmet, knee-high lace-up boots and a khaki coat. A plume of grey cigar smoke followed it.
“Who the blazes is that?” demanded the Queen, struggling to see.
“Oh n-no,” stammered Lankester.
“Who is it?”
“Lady Buckshot the big-game hunter, Your Majesty,” replied Lankester.
“Oh no!” agreed the Queen.
Disapproving murmurs echoed around the hall.
“What is she doing here?” pressed the Queen.
“Well, ma’am,” replied the hunter, “I shot and killed every single stuffed animal in the museum.”
“Such a shame the animals weren’t armed, or they could have fired back,” hissed the Queen to Abdul, just loud enough for Buckshot to hear.
“Ha! Ha!” Abdul couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s a shame this here monster is already dead,” began Buckshot. “It would have been my great pleasure to shoot it, right between the eyes.”
“Well, erm, um, L-L-Lady Buckshot,” spluttered Lankester, “the mammoth as a species has long since been extinct.”
“I am in the extinction business,” replied the hunter. “I would wipe out every last creature on Earth if I could.”
“How delightful for you!” said the Queen sarcastically. “Now, where is this tea and cake?”
Lankester leaped in. “Tea and cakes will now be served in the gallery. If you would follow me…”
The Queen took Abdul’s arm, and she shuffled out of the hall.
The great and the good all followed, which left Buckshot alone with the mammoth. From the top of the stairs, Elsie and Dotty watched as she marched right up to the front of the tank. There she mimed taking out a shotgun, loading it and firing. “BOOM!” She even provided a sound effect, before miming the mammoth’s brains splurging out.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” she chuckled to herself, before drifting back into the shadows.
Now only Elsie and Dotty were left in the main hall.
“I am trembling!” chattered Elsie, holding on to the balcony rail. The evil stench of Buckshot’s cigar smoke had snaked all the way up there.
“Me too. Evil woman. She’s always dragging in some poor tiger or lion she’s shot, with a wicked grin on her face.”
“So, now she’s gone, do we dare?” asked the girl.
“Dare what?” replied the cleaning lady.
“Do we dare to go down and take a closer look?”
Dotty
