talking to is, like, three inches tall? Am I the only one amused by that?”
“If you reach in there,” said Amber, “you’ll be opening the dollhouse. He can escape.”
“Where to? A cartoon mouse hole in the skirting board? He’ll still be only three inches tall.”
“Are you sure about that?” Milo asked. “We don’t know how this doorway magic works. You open that dollhouse and he might return to normal size.”
“Don’t listen to them, Glen,” said Shanks from the window. “Reach in here and teach me a lesson.”
Glen faltered. “Uh … no. No, I don’t think so, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Are you a coward, Glen?”
“Only when threatened.”
“Such a shame. My first impression of you was that you possessed a spark your companions lacked. But you have revealed your true nature, and your true nature, I am afraid to say, is a crushing disappointment.”
Glen shrugged. “You’re actually not the first person to say that.”
“You are a coward and a dullard, just like the rest of your countrymen.”
“Ah now, here,” said Glen, “don’t you go insulting my countrymen.”
“What is Ireland but a land of mongrels, wastrels and whelps?”
“Ah, that’s a bit strong …”
“Drunken buffoons stumbling through their maudlin lives, violent and thuggish and self-pitying, a nation of ungrateful—”
Glen laughed. “I’m sorry, pal, I don’t care what you say. You’re three inches tall. My mickey is bigger than you. And that was a pretty blatant attempt to provoke me, but what you’re failing to realise is that Ireland is the greatest country in the world, you dope.”
“Then why are you in America?”
Glen leaned down to grin straight into the window. “Because America has the best monsters.”
There was a moment of silence, and then, amazingly, laughter.
“I like you,” Shanks announced. “I like all three of you. And I will answer your question, Amber – but only to you. Not to your friends.”
“We’re not leaving,” said Milo.
“That is my only condition,” Shanks said.
“Why?” Amber asked. “Why not tell all of us?”
A chuckle. “Because I am tricky. Because I like pushing buttons. Glen may be a delightful buffoon, but Milo here is obviously your protector, and as such he takes things a lot more seriously. Since I am acquiescing to your request, I need to find some way of satisfying my quiet need to torture. Making your companions leave the room is a small triumph, but, as it has been pointed out, I am a small man.”
Amber deliberated, then looked at Milo. He grunted, and left the room. Glen went with him.
Amber shut the door, and moved back to the dollhouse. “Yes?”
“Heather doesn’t know you’re here, does she?” Shanks asked.
“Why does it matter?”
“She has kept this dollhouse in this room for thirty–one years. My prison has many windows, but all I see are walls. She even took the other dollhouses to the local school, so I couldn’t gaze at them for solace.”
“And if I ask her to move it somewhere else? Somewhere with a view, maybe? If you give me the name of the man I’m looking for and the town he grew up in, I’ll ask her. You have my word.” Amber frowned. “Hello? Mr Shanks? Are you still there?”
“A view?” he said, even quieter than before. “You offer me a view?”
“Well, what do you want, Mr Shanks?”
“To be free.”
“I told you, I’m not releasing you.”
“There is more than one way to be free, Amber.” Shanks stood with his hands clasped at his chest, his face still in darkness. “I’ll give you the name of the man you seek. I’ll tell you where to find him.”
Amber frowned. “And in return?”
A hesitation. “In return, you find a way to kill me.”
She had to be honest – she hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m never getting out of here,” said Shanks. “Don’t you think that’s unnecessarily cruel? I know I’ve done bad things, evil things, but surely you understand that nobody deserves an eternity of this? Heather would gladly kill me if she could.”
“I’m … I’m not killing anyone.”
“Then get your protector to do it. He looks like he’d even enjoy the opportunity.”
“This isn’t why we came here.”
“But you’d be doing the world a favour!” Shanks said. “What if I escape? The first thing I’m going to do if I ever get out of here is kill Heather Roosevelt. Then I’m going to kill her parents, and all of her friends. Then this entire town. So do the right thing, Amber. Find a way to finish me off now, while I’m vulnerable.”
She shook her head. “We’re not killers. We’re not like you.”
“Please,” said Shanks. “You’d be putting me out of my misery.”
“You’ve murdered innocent people,” said Amber. “You deserve your misery.”
“Then I’ll give you something more!” Shanks said. “I’ll give you his name, his address, and I’ll even tell you how to get to him tonight.”
Her heart beat faster. “He lives close?”
“No. He lives in Oregon. But distance doesn’t mean a thing when you’ve got my key. It’s on the wall behind you. See it?”
There was a single nail in the wall, and hanging from that nail was an ornate brass key. Amber took it down, tracing her fingers over the intricate etchings along its side. The head of the key was shaped like a lock.
“Heather hung it there to taunt me,” said Shanks. “Always in sight, always out of reach. But that key can get you where you want to go instantly. Do we have a deal?”
Amber looked back at the dollhouse. “I’m not going to kill you, Mr Shanks.”
“Then get Buxton to do it! He might even know how!”
“Buxton?”
“Gregory Buxton,” said Shanks. “I first met him in the town of his birth,
