spread his hands. ‘It would appear that the original will no longer exists.’
‘But it does, it does,’ cried Ezekiel. ‘Someone found it, you see: Rufus Raven, Maybelle’s great-grandson. It was given to his wife, Ellen, on her wedding day.’
‘A will?’ questioned Lord Grimwald.
‘No, no, not the will, exactly. She was given the box that contained it,’ explained Dr Bloor. ‘The key was lost and she couldn’t open it, but Ellen was endowed with an instinct for certain . . . things. She guessed that it contained something of great importance.’
‘We believe that Rufus gave it to Lyell Bone for safekeeping,’ said Ezekiel. ‘They were the best of friends, he and Rufus. We tried to bargain, we tried threats. “Give us the box,” we said, “and you’ll have half our fortune.” Of course we didn’t mean it.’ A sly smile twisted Ezekiel’s meagre lips. ‘But Rufus wouldn’t give it up, anyway. So we had to get rid of him, and his silly wife. A nasty accident arranged by a car mechanic on my payroll. Their baby survived, but he doesn’t know a thing.’
‘His name’s Billy,’ said Dr Bloor. ‘We have him here. He’s eight years old and can communicate with animals.’
‘That’s useful,’ Dagbert said with interest.
Ezekiel giggled. ‘Billy’s endowment hasn’t been very helpful to him so far. Take Percy, for instance.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘Percy, come here.’
An old dog appeared from behind the desk. Its eyes were hidden behind rolls of loose skin and its short legs were barely able to support its heavy body. Dagbert’s lips curled in disgust as the creature grunted and dragged its slobbery mouth against Ezekiel’s blanket.
‘Billy calls him Blessed,’ said Ezekiel. ‘Heaven knows why. The dog can understand Billy’s gibberish but he knows nothing of our conversation. We could be talking about butterflies,’ Ezekiel fluttered his crooked hands in the air above his head, ‘or . . . or birthday parties, for all he knows. So he can’t tell Billy a thing about our little chat, or his inheritance.’
‘Are you sure?’ Dagbert eyed the dog suspiciously.
‘Absolutely,’ said Dr Bloor. ‘The only words that dog knows are his names: Percy or Blessed.’
This wasn’t strictly true. Blessed might not have been able to comprehend every word that was said, but he understood the current of feeling in the room. He knew they were talking about his friend, Billy, and he was aware that the two strangers brought trouble. They smelt of mists and rotting wood. Their skins were cold and slippery, and behind their voices waves could be heard, beating on a stony shore. The boy’s eyes glimmered like frozen water and the man’s face told of wrecked ships and pitiless drownings. Blessed would describe all this to Billy and Billy would tell Cook. And Cook would give Blessed a large bone, Blessed hoped. The old dog made for the door, wagging his bald tail and slobbering badly as he thought of the longed-for bone.
There came a loud knock on the door and, as it opened, Blessed hurried past Weedon into the passage.
‘Cook’s put a bit of supper on the table,’ Weedon announced grumpily.
‘Ah!’ Dr Bloor rubbed his hands together. ‘The dining room is just down the passage. This way, everyone.’
As the two visitors followed Dr Bloor a small woman emerged from the dining room. Cook was rounder than she had once been and her dark hair was touched with grey, but her rosy face still held traces of her former beauty. When she saw Dr Bloor and his guests approaching she stood aside to let them pass.
‘Thank you, Cook,’ said Dr Bloor.
Cook nodded and then gave a small involuntary shudder. She pressed a handkerchief to her face and hastened away. Her heart was pounding so fast that Blessed could hear it as she ran down the stairs behind him.
‘Oh, grief! Oh, horrors! It’s him. It’s him. Oh, Blessed, what am I to do? Why here? Why now?’
Cook burst into the blue canteen with Blessed hard on her heels. The handkerchief was still pressed to her mouth as though the very air she breathed was poisoned.
‘Cook, what’s the matter?’
Cook hadn’t noticed the white-haired boy sitting at a corner table.
‘Oh, Billy, love. I’ve had a dreadful shock.’ She pulled out a chair and sat beside him. ‘A man is here. He . . . he . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Billy, I’ll have to tell you. He drowned my parents, swept away my home and murdered my fiancé, all because I wouldn’t marry him.’
Billy’s wine-coloured eyes widened in alarm. ‘Here? But why?’
‘That I couldn’t tell you. Something to do with the boy he’s brought, I imagine.’ Cook blew her nose and tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve. ‘Grimwald’s his name. It was forty years ago, and I don’t know if he recognised me. But if he did . . .’ She closed her eyes against unimaginable horrors. ‘If he did, I’ll have to leave.’
‘Leave? You can’t leave, Cook!’ Billy leapt to his feet and flung his arms round Cook’s neck. ‘What will I do without you? You can’t leave. Please say you won’t. Please, please.’
Cook twisted her head from side to side. ‘I just don’t know, Billy. There’ve been some pretty awful people in this place, but he’s the worst. And if the boy is anything like him, we’re in for a rough ride, believe me.’
Blessed suddenly put his paws on Cook’s lap and, throwing back his head, let out such a mournful howl that Billy had to cover his ears.
‘He knows,’ Billy whispered. ‘He wants to tell me something, but I’m not sure that I want to hear it.’
Dagbert Endless
On Monday morning a new boy appeared in Bloor’s Academy. He wore the compulsory blue cape of a music student. Charlie met him for the first time in Assembly. The music students had their own orchestra and today Charlie’s friend, Fidelio, was lead violin. He waved his bow at Charlie just as the Head of Music, Dr Saltweather, came on to the stage.
‘Who’s that, then?’ said a voice in Charlie’s ear.
Charlie looked round to see a boy a few inches taller than himself, with long, wet-looking hair and aquamarine eyes.
‘Who’s who?’ asked Charlie.
‘The boy with the violin.’
‘He’s called Fidelio Gunn,’ said Charlie. ‘He’s a friend of mine.’
‘Is he? And is he a good violinist?’
‘Brilliant,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m Charlie, by the way.’
Dr Saltweather raised his hand for silence, and the orchestra struck up.
Thirty minutes later the new
