the contrary tale of the butterfly girl: from the peculiar...

ISHBELLEBEE

TheContraryTaleoftheButterflyGirl

fromTHEPECULIARADVENTURES

OFJOHNLOVEHEART,ESQ,

VOL.II

ForTomx

REVENGE

SHOULDHAVENOBOUNDS

WilliamShakespeare,Hamlet,IV.vii

butterfly

Butterfly

Butter-fly

BUTTERFLYFLYFLY

butterfly

Prologue

1407AD

TempleofButterflies,Mexico

THEANGEL-EATER

MynameisIzel.Iamawarriorwoman.

Mysoulisabutterfly.

Iamthelastofmypeople.

Theyweresacrificedtoamadsorcerer;heartsrippedout,beatinginhishands.Heatethem,oneafteranother.

Whatdidtheytasteof,Iwonder?Somethingsticky,

somethinghot.Puttheminapie,arrangethemonanaltar.Linethemupondisplay.Redafterred.

Doeshelickhisfingersorwipethemonhisrobes?

DoesheknowI’mcomingforhim?

Iamacollectorofheads.I’mgoingtoputhisona

stick.Stuffhismouthwiththenamesofmypeople.

Theysayabutterflyisthesoulofawarrior.TheysaywhenIamdeadIwillflyoverthisbeautifulland,spreadmywings.Glideonghostwings.

Givemeagooddeath;givemesomemeaning.Letmewritemynameinblood

acrosshistemple,smearitintothewalls.Leaveahandprint;fivefingersofastar.Markhim.

IwearabutterflytattoooftheAngel-Eater:blackwings,redeyes.Itisapredator;foriteatsitsownkind.Itwascarvedonmybackbyapriest.Hetoldme,“Thiswillhurt.Revengealwaysdoes.”Hechantedovermybody,

saidprayersatmyfeet.Entwinedanimalbonesandexoticpurpleflower-weedsinmyhair.Charmsforprotection;helpfromthegods.

Themadsorcerer’sblacktempleofbutterfliesissoakedinblood.Somanysteps,theyreachtothegods.Mypeople’sbodiesrolleddownthosesteps.Bouncedtothe

bottom.

Thesorcererwearsamaskofbutterflies,lightningblueandgold.Fivehundredacolyteskneelbeforehim:blackrobedwithcurvedsilverdaggers.Hypnotisedbyhismagic.Theyprayathistemple,mad-eyed,theirmouthsfullofstarshapes.Galacticpoisonseepsintheirveinslikeplanttendrils,shifts

andcoilsbeneaththeirskin.

Iamuniqueforawoman,forIamsixfeettall;tallerthananyman.Myhair,whichisblack,reachestomybottom;itisentwinedwithtinyanimalbonesandfeathers.Aroundmythroatisanecklacemadeoftheskullsofhawks.Theirclawspiercedthroughmyears.

Mybodyisbrownmuscleandscars;forIhavebattledallmylife.

Therearefivehundredofhismad-eyedpriests.Thereisoneofme.Whataretheodds?Whowillthegodsgambleon?Rollthedie.Placeabetonme.

IhavetwobladeswhichhavebeenblessedintheTempleof

Moons.Theycurve,decapitateheadseasily.Iprayedinthattemple;Ikneltonthestonefloors.“Makemeaweapon,”Isaid.

Thegodsansweredwithalightningbolt.Struckmedown.

Iwoke–dragonfliesdancing

inmyheadonthetemplefloor.Thebutterflytattooonmybackwasmoving,shiftingundermyskin.Itswingswerebeating.

Ispun,mybladesinmyhand.Theywhirredlikeahummingbird.Fastasmagic.Ipoundedmyfootonthetemplefloor.Acrackappeared,zigzagging.Wobblingthetemplepillars.

Whatdoesitfeellike?

Therearefivehundredofthem.Thereisoneofme.

Pitythem.

IwalkthroughthevalleytotheTempleofButterflies.Thesunabovemefrazzles,

bouncesofftheearth.

Thosefivehundredblack-robedpriestsbowdownbeforethemadsorcerer.Chanting,swaying;salivadripsfromtheirtongues.Feverhot.Devilroast.Watchthemmovelikewavesofblackwater.Surroundhiminworship.Drownhiminit.Undertheirrobes,theflashofasilverdagger;undertheir

smiles,abeautifulnothing.

TheMagicianholdsanebonystaff;hesitsonathroneofskullsoverlookinghisworld.Ihopetheskullofmyancestorbiteshisbottom.

Butterfliesarepaintedthroughouthistemple,dazzlingfromtoptotoe.Ashimmerofwingsineveryshadeofmagic.

Thegodspeerdownfromtheirheavens.Iamwithintheirtheatre.Iampartoftheentertainment.

Iraisemyblades.Ishout,“MYNAMEISIZELANDIWILLAVENGEMYPEOPLE,DEMONSORCERER!”

TheMagicianrisesfromhisthrone,hisbutterflymask

glintseye-blindinggold.Wettongued,hisacolytesturntheirheadsandexamineme.Googlyeyes,demented.

TheMagicianlaughsatme.That’shisfirstmistake.

Ishout,“YOURHEADSAREMINE!”

Irunintohisacolytes,theblack-massofthem.Ichop

themintopieces.Iamtwicetheheightofmostofthem,crushoneundermyfoot,pullaheadoffanother.Kickoneupthebackside–theyflyhalfamileintothedistance.

Easypeasy.

Ipickupanacolyteandthrowhimacrossthetempleasifhewereapebble.Igrabanotherbyhislegsandspin

himround,screaming.Turnhimintoawhirlwind.

OnebyoneIendthem.

Headsareflyingoff,bouncingdownthesteps.Theycirclemeintheirblackrobes,trytofoldmeintotheirspace.

Imakethemintoamassacre.Chopchop

chopchOPchopCHOPCHOPCHOPCHOP

UpthestepsIclimb,ariverofbloodflows.Behindmeamountainofbodyparts.

Atthetop,sizzlinggold,thedemonMagicianwaitsformeonhisthroneofskulls,amusedbythespectacle.

Hesquirms,considersmeforamoment.“Perhapswecouldcometosomesortofarrangement?”

Iamsaturatedinblood.Ithasbecomemyskin.Ihavenomorewordsforhim.

Heraiseshisstaffandcastsaboltofblacklightningatmewhichfizzesandcrackles.Achievesnothing.

“Stupidbloodything!”Hecurseshisstaffandtossesitdownthestepsofhistemple.

WhatisthatIcansmell?UnderthemaskIsmellfear.UnderthemaskIsmellshitandthestinkofcowardice.UnderthemaskIsmellyou,littlesorcerer.

Idecapitatehiminoneswoopofmyblades;holdhis

headalofttothegodsandthenbootitintotheair.Itfrazzlesupinthesunset.

Isitonthethroneofskulls,ontheheadsofmygrandfathers.IusetheheadlesscorpseoftheMagicianasacushionformyfeet.

PartOne

June,1889

HousesofParliament,London

YES,PRIMEMINISTER

IamZedockHeap.

TheprimeministerofEngland.

Acannibal.

Akillerofwomenand,ofcourse

ADEMONICMULTI-TASKER.

IgazeatyourlittleLondon.TheveinoftheThamesthrobs.Theoozeglistens.Isthatabloatedcorpsefloatingpast?Beauty

theysayisintheeyeofthebeholder.

SOBEHOLD!

Whatbeautyisthis!Whatfilth,whatwondroussludgyintestines.Underneathyouareblood-works,pusandaslipperyquiveringsquashofbrain.Wretchedamusingcreaturesyouare:flopping,eatersofshit.Criminally

incompetent.Turdsintophats.Howyoueversurvivedthislongisbeyondallreason.Beyondallstars.

London,London,London.Iholdyourheartinmyhands,mylove.

ISQUEEZEYOU.

TheframedpictureofamapofLondonexplodes

behindmeunderthepressureofmylove.PiecesofglassZOOMthroughtheair:impalethewallpaper.

I’mshufflingpaperworkonmydesk,thumbingthroughacatalogueondungeonequipment.Sigh.Aha!AspikedIronMaiden,ahorsewhipwithanelectricalcurrentrunningthroughit(howinventive!).Andonthe

verylastpage,myfavourite,asimplegarrotte.Sliceasalamiwithit.Afoot,perhaps?

TORTURE EQUIPMENT.TORTURE EQUIPMENT.Torture equipment.TORTURE equipment. SAYITINASMANYWAYSASYOUWANT.Italwaysboilsdowntothesamething.

Youinventedit.

Youmakemesmileandyoumakemesovery,verysad.

Whatuseistherefordevilslikeme,whenyouaresokeentoDISSECToneanother?

HELLisunderyourfeet.Ithasalways

beenunderyourtoes.

Oh!Aknockatmydoor,anditcreaksopen.Aneyeballpeersthrough;anervousshuffle.

“Ah,MrEvening-Star,docomein.”

Heenterssmilingnervously,“Morning,PrimeMinister.”

Iclosethecatalogueoftortureequipment.Shutthelidonyourtoybox.“HowcanIassistyou?”

“Erm,wellit’sabouttonight’spreparations.”

“Yes?”andIleanbackinmychairandputmyfeetuponthedesk.I’mabigman.Myfeetdangleofftheend,knockoffthepaperweight.

MrEvening-Starthrowshimselftothefloortoretrieveit.

Ican’tconcealmysmile,itspreads.Revealsteeth.

Heputsthepaperweightbackonthedesk,restoresthebalancewithintheworld.“Wehavealittleproblem,”hesqueaks.

“Whichis?”andIstareintohim.Applypressuretohisribcage.

Hetrembles.Forcestheairout,squeezesoutthewords,“Please…stop.”

Hefallstohisknees.I’mfascinatedbythenoiseshemakes,thepossibilityofacrunch.

Theviolenceinmebubbles;itisaformofweirdalchemy.IfyoupeeltheskinoffmeIamalandscapeofhellunderneath.IWOULDMAKEYOUMELTINTOME.IWOULDINGESTYOUintomyterrain.Come,putyourfingerinmymouth;feelthesizzle.Feelthingsfrommypointofview.Takeavacation.CROSSOVERTHELINEINTOME.

Ilethimgo;hecollapsestothecarpetonhisknees.Shuddering,hefinallystandsbackup,adjustshisspectacles.

“Gettothepoint,MrEvening-Star;Iam,afterall,averybusyman.IhaveanappointmentwiththeQueenlaterandifyouthinkI’machallengingemployer,SHEWOULDREALLY

UNHINGEYOU.”

“Thewomen,”hestutters,“Oneofthewomenescaped,jumpedoutofthewindow.”

“Thatisunfortunate,”Isigh.“Thosecagesreallyaren’tuptomucharethey?”

“No,”heagreesandshufflesbackwardsalittle.Subconsciously.It’squite

endearingreally.“I…Icouldspeaktoawelder?”

Iburstoutlaughingandtakemyfeetoffthedesk,standupandpathimontheshoulders.

Heactuallysqueaks,flinchingviolently.Mutters,“Itwasonlytheone,Iwillmakesureitdoesn’thappenagain,sir.Wehaveplentyof

themforyouto…eat.”Hislipsquicklypressintoasubmissiveline.

Ipluckmyhatandcoatwhichhangonahookbythedoor.Liquorice-blackfurandtophatwithasilversash.Igazeatmyselfinthelookingglasswhilehefumblesnervouslybehindme,

Iammagnificentto

lookat.

Themirrorcracksdownthemiddle.

Makesmeazig-zag.

Meanwhile…

MRLOVEHEARTTAKESASTROLLBYTHE

THAMES

Itisadayofcustard!Itwobbles!

TodayIwearelectricalblue(Isizzle!).Mytrademarkheartsaresplatteredupthesides;theyoozeintothefabric.Iamalsosportingaratherfetchingsetofthighboots.Iliketostrutlongthepath,twiddlemyancestralswordandthenLEAP!andhidebehindabush:JUMP!outonrandomstrangers!HAHA!hahaha

Itissofunny!

Anoldmanscreams!Hiseyesofjellywibbleandquiver.

IhavecomeintoLondonforaspotofcake.IwasgettingboredathomeandIhavenoservantstotalkto.Ifoundoneofthemdeadnearthe

pond,half-eaten.Iwasquiteunnervedandhadaconversationwiththeremaininglowerhalfofthecorpseand,ofcourse,apologisedprofuselyforhisbeingeatenandinmygardennoless!Andso,IamquitealoneandIfeelunabletoemploythelowerhalfofatorsoasabutler,asitwouldperhapsnotbealtogetherpractical.Hewouldhave

considerableproblemsboilinganeggandroastingacrumpetoverthefire(beingdeadandhavingnoarms,hehavingbeingconsumedbysomethingasyetunidentified).

TheThamesisafatooze.Greenishslopwaters,occasionallypullingwithitdeadbodies,purplewithbloat.Andeels!Seethem

wriggleandflop;seethemslither!

London,youareaCityoftheDead.Creatureshopandscuttle;jumpouttheirgraves;danceoverblackwaters.

IfIdipmyhandsintotheThames,myskinwouldprickleundertheslimewater.Itwouldshrivel;feelglobularvegetation;growthsof

slitherylumps.

London,London(andItwiddlemyswordinaloop),London,London,London,YouareanEATERofthedead.CHOMPCHOMPCHOMP.Howuniqueyouare;howhorrible!howdazzling!Showmeyourteeth:exposeyourtonguetome.UNROLLYOURSELF.

Idance!Idancealongthepath.DoIhearmusic?

Istrikeapose!Spearaclergyman’shat.Holditaloft.Hescreamsandcrosseshimself.Becomeshysterical.IenquirewhereImightfindanexcellentpieceofcakeandafterhehasrecoveredhissenses(andhishat)hepointsmeinanotherdirection.MAKESMETURN.

Oh,London,yourfoulunderwaterbotanicalgardensarecharming.Bruisedpurples,blubberygreens,violentturquoise,acidicyellowswirls.Vividandslimy.Letmecounttheinsectsthathumoveryou.Thelowbuzzofyourtinymessengers;theshimmeroftheirwings.

ANGELS!THEYARE

YOURANGELS!

Apigeonlandsonmyhead!

Istrutalongthepath.Twirl.Shootmypistolintheair.BANG!

Thenaughtypigeonfliesoff,crapsontheclergyman.

Iwalkthepath.BigBenstrikes.Movesusforward.

Time,time,time,youaremalleable,misunderstood.

BANG!(Ishootmypistolagain.)

Iseeafiddlerahead,bashingoutatunenearabench.Hetapshisspindlyleg,plucksastring.Itsnaps!Thwackshimintheforehead.Ihearhisswearwordsontheair:“Youf—b—!”he

screams.Marvellous!

Heapsofplumcolouredcloudsswirlaboveme:marshmallowsoft.Hotchocolate!Iheartheclangingofbellssoundfromthechurch.Iraisemyhead,spyaraven,agloomythingglaringatmefromarooftop.Smallpluckyblueflowerssproutnearmyfeet.AmIatoadstool?Amagic

mushroomperhaps?

Theairwhiffsofbubblingjam.Iamhungry.Icanthinkofnothingbutpudding!Ithinkofcustard,creamandthegooofmeltedchocolate.Mymindwanderstojellybeansandstrawberrytarts.Mystomachrumbles.Iflashasmileatanoldladyinabonnet.Ibowverylow.“Madam,couldyoudirectme

toaninterestingbitofsponge?”

Shebashesmeovertheheadwithherumbrella.

“Thankyou,mygoodwoman!”Ireply.ComposingmyselfandstraighteningmybeautifulcoatIheadalongthepathtowardsthefiddler.Ismellfishbones,seasnails,lobsterpots,eelpieandmash.

Aspotofgravy!Asplatofmushypeas.

IshoutouttotheRaven,“WHEREISTHESTRAWBERRYTART,YOUVILLAIN?!”

Hecawsbackatmerathersarcastically.

Ispinmyancestralswordandapproachthefiddler.He

eyeballsmewith…isthatsomesortofsuspicion?

“Goodmorning!”Isay

“Gotapennyformetopluckatune,sir?”herepliesgrinningwithhisremainingteeth.

Iflinghimsomepapermoneyinhisupsidedownbatteredtophat.

“Blimey,”hesays,staringinsidethehat,

“Doyouknowthetune‘BoilHiminthePot’?”Iask.

“Nosir,butforthisamountofmoneyIcanmakeitupasIgoalong!”andhepicksuphisfiddle.

“Wonderful,”Ireplyandleanonmysword,glanceat

thecopiousamountofweedlifethatbloomsnearthewall.

Hisfiddlecreatesmusicnosanemindcouldcopewith.AscreechandtwangfromtheverydepthsofHell.

Ihumalong,gomadwithit.Thefiddlerclickshistongue,screamsoutthetune.Abricksoarsthroughtheair!Hitshimbetweentheeyes.

GOODGRIEF!Hefallsbackwards.Perhapsdead!

Ispin!Lookforthepersonresponsible.Hearlaughter.Seeapairofeyespeeroverthewall.Astreeturchinsticksouthistongueandrunsoffoveragraveyard,leapsoverthedead,outofthisworld.

Ikeepmoving,wave

goodbyetotheriver,totheooze.Ipluckawindfallapple,squeezeitinthepalmofmyhand,asthoughahumansacrifice.Ipickupthepace,movefaster.

Ohdayofcustard.Takemetoyourtearooms.SHOWMEYOURCAKE!

Iamratherlonely.Yes,lonely.LOnEly.LoNelY.

Lonely.Lonely.LONELY.Oddword,that.

Iamlonely.

lonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonelylonely

Whatdoesitmeantobethisway?

WhatflavouricecreamamIinside?

SCOOPMEOUT&FINDOUT

Iprodmylacycuffs.Waveataghoulishnannywithasqueakypram.Sheshrieks,goesfaster.Doesshehearmusictoo?Iwavegoodbyetothenannyandthepram.Waveatthepigeon.Waveatthegloomyraven.Ihavenoonetoplaywith.

Myonlyservantisdead:half-eaten,lyingonmylawn.Imustremindmyselftogethimburied,perhapsnearthedeformedcucumbersnearthepond.

IpeeracrossattheHousesofParliamentwheremyfathergavespeeches.Monoclewobbleandclickofsilvercane.LordLoveheart.

DADDYDADDYDADDY.

Andnowthatismyname.Ihavetakenletters,becomemeaning.Inheritedwords.Daddy.

IamtherichestmaninEngland.IamaPrinceoftheUnderworldandyet,Iamonlyaseriesofletters.

Rearrangemeandmakesomeotherword.

Invisiblemusicmovesmeforward.

Ifyoucutopenmybrain,whatwouldyoufindIwonder?

AmImadeofjelly?CANYOUMAKEMEWOBBLE?

Ifeeltheunderneath.Ifeel

London’slayers.Thehot,hot,hot.Thesizzlered.Underneathyourfootstepsaredinosaurs.Fossilsofmonsters;ribcagesofmaneaters.Strangespiralshells,deformedlookingrocks,hornedpiecesofanotherspecies.Theimprintofmonsters.MAN-EATER,MAN-EATER,MAN-EATER

Icuttheairwithmysword.

“BEWAREwhatisunderneath!”Ishouttonothingandnoone.

sinking

below.

DARWINISM

Evolutiontheory

COMPETE,SURVIVEANDREPRODUCE

Or,becomefingerfood

Iwalkthepath;IwalkthedarkcoilsofLondon,her

blackribbonentrails.Imoveintoherstomach.It’ssurprisinglywarmhere.

Thetearoomsappear!Manifestbeforeme.Apotofteaandanenormousslabofchocolatecakewillbemine,forIamaPrinceoftheUnderworld,andIdoloveamoistpieceofcake.

Myloneliness,theempty

spaceinsidemeneedssomethingtofillit.Squeezeouttheair.Overeat.Feedmyselflove.Replacekisseswithsugar.

MrLoveheartandZedockHeapmeetbystrangecoincidenceATTHESTUFFEDFIG

TEAROOMS

Themoonisalollipop.Iholditonastick.Licketysplit.Ittasteslikepiecesofme.

IamsittingbythewindowoftheStuffedFigtearooms,anenchantinghovelnearLondonBridge.Lowceilings,unstablefoundations,couldquitepossiblycollapseatanymoment.Howexciting!Iam

informeditisalsoamagnetforpoetsandauthorsofthemacabre,forthepropertyisapparentlyhaunted.Builtonaplaguepit.Isn’tthatwonderful?Somuchcharacter.Ghosthuntershavebeenrumouredtofrequentthisestablishmentinsearchofevidenceoflifebeyonddeath.Myownsuggestion,ifyou’reseekingsuchevidence,isthatyouneedlookno

furtherthantosamplethehomemadecakes.

Iprodmysliceofchocolatefudgecake.Islamitagainstthewall.Itmakesadentinthebrickwork.Thisfudgecakeisnotofthisworld.

“Whatblackmagicisthis?”Isaywithglee.

Thepatisseriechef,ameat-facedwallofmuscle,emergesfromthekitchen.“Isthereaproblem?”

“Thiscakeisremarkable!Itshouldbeworshippedasanancientgod.Itwillnotyield!”Islamitagainstthetableanditbouncesoff,undamaged.

“Areyoutakingthepiss?”

Hisheavysetlowerjawcrunchesintoaline.

“No.Iamexpressingdelight.It’snotreallyacake.It’salmost,dareIsay,ABRICK!Youcouldbuildapagantemplewiththisanditwouldwithstandthelightningstrikesofthegods,”Icryaloud.Thecustomerslookabitnervous.Whyisthat,Iwonder?

“Ithinkhe’ssayingit’sabitdry,”coughsalittlebespectacledmaninthecorner.

Thechefremovesacleaverfromhisapron.“Well,well.We’vegotacomedian.”

“Sir,mayIenquirewhatapastrychefisdoingwieldingameatcleaver?Isthisnotatearooms?”Iask,examining

asugarlumptoseeifittooholdsoccultpowers.

Ting-a-ling!Thebellabovethetearoomdoorringsandatallgentlemaninaverystylishtophatandlongcoatstepsin.MMMMmmmmmm,helookslikeademontome.

Thechefhideshismeatcleaver,smilespolitelyatthegentlemanandshouts,

“Emma?”

Emmaappears,short,grinning,facelikeahappydumpling.“Yes?”

“Taketheprimeminister’sorder.”

“Oh,hello,MrHeap,”shecurtsies.

“Coffeeandapotofcream,”hepurrs.

“Verygood,sir,”andshehurriesoff.

Iapproachhistable.“IfImaywarnyou,sir,againstsamplingthechocolateslab.”

MrHeapraiseshiseyes.“Andyouare,sir?”

“Interestedinwhatyouare.”

Hesmiles.I’veseenthat

sortofsmilebefore.It’spower.It’sancient.It’strouble.It’ssomethingfromunderneath.

Itapmyswordagainstthetableleg.

“Youngman,don’tplaygameswithme.”Hisvoicesuddenlychangestone,deadlyserious.“Becauseyouwillregretit.”His

eyesfizzlewithtinywhiteexplosions.

Oooh,heisapredator!

Itwiddlemyswordandbow.“MynameisJohnLoveheartandI’maprinceoftheUnderworld.Ialsohappentoknowthatthiscake,”(myswordprodsthechocolateslab),“isthemostfrighteningthingIhaveever

happenedacross.It’squiteunsettledme.”

MrHeapstandsup,thechaircreaking,andstaresintome.Oooooohhhh!ThewallsoftheStuffedFigareclosingin;he’sputtingpressureonthestructure.Whatsortofdemonishe?

Twocustomerseatingsconesandjaminthecorner

suddenlyexplodeoverthewalls.

“BACKOFF!”hesaysandholdsmebythethroat.Mylegsdangleintheair.Helooksintome,deepunderneaththelayersoffrillandgrowls,“You’requitemad,”andheseemspleased.Thewindowsexplode;thewallscompress.Hiseyesholdpiecesofanexplodingstar.

Andthenhelaughs,“Littlemadprince,thatiswhatyouare.Heartsinyoureyes.Nomatchforme,”andflingsmeagainstthewall.Ibounceoffitandlandgracefullyonmyfeet,thenunfortunatelysliponasliceoflemontartandslidealongthefloorintothecakestand.

“That’sjustbadmanners,”theremainingsurvivorofthe

clienteleinthecornersays,asliceoffigtartinhishand.“Flingingpeopleagainstwalls.”

Thedemonclickshisfingersandthegentlemanexplodes.

Thechefappearswiththecleaver,“Iseverythingsatisfactory?”followedby“Ohfuckinghell”and

disappearswiththespeedofaratupadrainpipe.

Itakeoutmypistolandshootthedemoninthebackside.Heisnotimpressedandgrabsholdofmebymywaistcoatandholdsmeupintheairandscreams,“IAMFROMTHEBOWELSOFHELL,LITTLEPRINCE.I

AMTHESTUFFOFNIGHTMARES.”

Thebuildingstartstocollapseandhefoldshisfurrycoatovermeandwedisappearastheceilingfalls.

FIZZ-BANGWHOOOOOOOSH

Wereappearinsideapagantempleofbloodsoakedwalls.

HOWTHRILLING!

He’ssittingonathroneofskullsandI,Iamratherunfortunatelyinsideacagethatappearstobeconstructedofhumanboneswithanintricatehuman-fingerlockmechanism.IcansmellfireworksandglitterandIcanhearscreamingandsomesortofsinistergurgling.Perhapsthedrainsneedunblocking?

“Thisisn’tverysporting,”Icry,andIshootthelock.Thebulletsadlybouncesoffandpingsagainstthewall,followedbyaseriesofpingsasitricochetsinseveraldirectionsandfinallylodgesitselfinapotplant.

“Youareaninfuriation,MrLoveheart,”hesighs,staringatmewithlaserintensityfromhisthrone,“andIwill

teachyoualessoninmanners.”

“Howdidyougetvotedin?”Itwiddlemysword

“IATEthecompetition.Nowyouwilllearnhumilityandrespectforyourelders.”

Theworldaroundmeturnsintospace.Starswink,crashandtumble.Iamsurrounded

byindigonightspace,andmyfather’sbodyfloatspastme.Deadthinginspaceamongstasteroidsandpiecesoffizzandspin.

Daddy.Daddy.Daddy.Ireachoutandtrytotouchhim,buthedriftspastme,moveson.Itisjustanillusionandyetmyheartisbreaking.Tearswetmyface.

Starsfade,thecurtaindrops.

“You’reallalone,”hesaysfromhisthrone,hisvoiceahypnotism.“Everythingyouloveisdead.Ithasdisappeared.Turnedintostardust.LittlePrince,insignificant…insane,”andhechuckles.

Underthepain,underthe

breakinginme,thereissomethingturning.Somechange.Aformofrage.Itbloomsgiganticpetals,unfurlslikeaflower.

Istandupinthecage,gripmyancestralsword.“IamaprinceoftheUnderworldandyouwillhavetodobetterthanthat!”

Heleansforwardonhis

throneofskulls,“Ifyoucrossmypathagain,interfereagain,IwillEATyou.”

Heclickshisfingers.

IamwiththepigeonbytheThames.Iamoutofreach.

Thenextday

Kent,England,June1889

PEDROCK&BOOBOO

ONTHETRAIN

Itisfour-thirtyintheafternoon.Atimeforbutteredteacakeswithasplodgeofjam.

MynameisPedrockFrogwishandIamtenyearsold.Iamwithmylittlesister

BooBoo,whoissix,andwearesittinginatraincarriageaccompaniedbytheReverendPlum,whositsbythewindowabsorbedinanovelentitledADangerousRomanceontheMoors.Helickshislongagilefingersasheturnsthepages;thewetsoundhasbecomeincreasinglyannoyingsinceweleftKing’sCrossStation.Heisaccompanyingustoour

Uncle’shouseinthevillageofDarkwound,ontheoutskirtsofLondon,forBooBooandIareorphans.Weareessentiallyunwanted.WehavebeenstayingforthelasttwoyearsintheconventofSaintThomasnearCharingCross,fullofkind,well-meaningnuns.ReverendPlumhasmadeithismissiontofindourrelativeswhonow,Isuppose,havereluctantly

agreedtohouseus.

IknowBooBoowillmissSisterMartha,whowasherfavouritenun.SisterMarthahadafascinationwithdinosaursandwoulddrawthebeasts,scissor-toothedandfat-tailedontheblackboard,andthewordsEATORBEEATEN.WordswhichwerescrubbedoffbySisterHarriet,whosaidthatthere

werenosuchthingsasdinosaursandGodcertainlywouldn’thavecreatedsuchmonstrosities.Ismileatmysister,whoissqueezingherfrogpuppettoylovinglyaroundtheneck.

Sheshoutsatme:“EATORBEEATEN!EATORBEEATEN!EATORBEEATEN!”

TheReverendPlumlooksupfromhiswell-thumbednovel.“BooBoo,pleasebequiet.”

BooBooandthefrogpuppetstaredefiantlybackwhiletheReverendreturnstoADangerousRomanceontheMoors.

“Isitanabsorbingread?”Iask.

ReverendPlum,annoyed,glancesupfromhisforbiddentreat.“Yes,it’sanenjoyabledistraction.”

“What’sthestoryabout?”

Helooksuncomfortable.“Well.It’salovestory.”

“Betweenwho?”

“Betweenapriestanda,”(hepauses)“farmgirl.It’s

actuallymoreofawarmfriendship.”

“Warmfriendship?”

BooBoointerruptshisanswer“IAMADINOSAUR!IAMADINOSAURANDIAMGOINGTOEATYOU!”

TheagitatedReverendPlum,desperatetogetback

hisbook,raiseshishandsintheair.“BooBoo,shutup!Pedrock,findsomethingtooccupyyourselfwith.”Andhesettlesbackintothepagesofthelustymoors.

Irufflemysister’shairandthefrogpuppetstaresbackatmewithanopenmouth.

“Iloveyou,”IsaytoBooBoo.

Thefrogpuppetreplies,“Iloveyou,too,”andplantsakissonmycheek.

Thetrainchugsgentlyonwardsthroughthecountryside.Itisawonderfulsummer’sday.Peachcolouredskyandsoftice-creamcloudshangoverwildflowermeadowsandforestsfulloffairytales.Iwonderwhatournewliveswillbe

like.Willwebeloved?BooBoodoesn’trememberourparents,butIdo.Iremembertheirfacesandthecolouroftheireyes,whichweregingerbreadbrown.IrememberthatourDaddyhadalittlesailingboat,whichhetookmeononceinamoatfullofwaterflowers.Thesailwasgoblingreen.Wepretendedwewerepirates.Wepretendedwewere

anybodybutourselves.

IholdBooBoo’shand.Itellherweshallbesafe,weshallbeloved.Itellhertherearefairiesinthewoods;theyliveinsidetreesandeatflowers.Theywillprotecther,drawmagiccirclesaroundher;sprinkleherwithstardust.Makeheroneofthem.

“WhataboutFroggy”shesays.“Willtheymakehimafairy?”

“No,they’llmakehimaprincewithhisownkingdom.”

Thismakesherhappy.IwishIcouldgivehersomethingotherthanwords.

Wearepullingintothe

stationnow,forDarkwound.Thepaintisflakingoffthesignlikeskin.ReverendPlumgathershisbagstogetherandtakesBooBoo’shand.

“Comealongchildren.”

Wefollowhimoutofthecarriageandontotheplatform.Somehowtheearthbeneathmyfeetdoesn’tseemsolidenough,asthoughit’s

abouttogiveway.Iamsinkingintoanunknownspace.

Meanwhile…

LoveheartManor,nearthevillageofDarkwound,England

MRLOVEHEART’SBIRTHDAY

HappyBirthdaytome.HappyBirthdaytome!HAPPYBIRTHDAYMRLOVEHEART,Happybirthdaytome!

I’mhavingapartytodayinthegardensofLoveheartManor.I’meighteen.Mr

Fingers,theLordoftheUnderworld,isinsideamirrorinmyhallway,lookingratherannoyed.Ididofferhimasausagerollfromthebuffet,butheoddlydeclined.

It’saglorioushotdayofjam.Ihavepreparedeverythingmyselfandrememberedtoburymyhalf-eatenbutler.

OhJoy!Wehavepartyfoodandpartyguests.Ihaveinvitedmyneighbours,fromthevillageofDarkwound,andtheyareasurprisingbunch.Ofcourse,theyhavetowearpartyhatsandplaygamesorI’llthrowjellyatthem.Splatterthemwithlove.

Ihaveheartshapedballoonsanddecapitated

headshangingfrommytrees.Alllocalvillainsofcourse:awifebeater,anastynannyandanauthorofbadlywrittenyoungadultromancenovels.Dingledangleinthebreeze.Iputpartyhatsonthem;eventhedeadneedsomefun.

I’vebeensolonelysincemyadventureswithDetectiveWhiteandWalnut.IsentthemChristmaspresents;

somechocolates(lacedwithaheavylaxative)forDetectiveWhite,andagiftwrappedhandgrenadeforWalnut.Ihadsuchfunselectingthat.

Theysentmeathankyoucard,ofcourse,whichIkeep,alongwithallmycorrespondence,inthebirdcageofthestuffedparrotinthestudy:

DearMrLoveheart,

Wordscannotreallyexpressmyfeelingstowardsyourgifts.Thankfully(forme)WalnutatemychocolatesandspenttherestofthedayintheScotlandYardprivy.Hethanksyouforthehandgrenadewhichhekeepsintheoffice,inthebiscuittin.

Wehopeyoureceivedourpresent,whichwasabottleofwildfigbrandy.

KindRegards

Percival&Walnut

NowwheredidIputthatfiggybrandy?Oh,yes,it’sinthetrifle,underthelayerofcustard.Soakingupsponge.

Haha.NowwherewasI?

Ohyes,Christmastimewasveryinteresting.IhadalittleadventureinvolvingazombieChristmaspartyinHighgate,whichIwilltellyouaboutonanotheroccasion.

ButtodayismybirthdayandIamoneyearolder.Oneyearmadder.

Thebuffetisadreamboat,stuffedwithgoodies.Ahoy,

CaptainSpongeCake!Seejellies,green,redandyellow,wobbleaboutmerrily.Amountainofwhippedcream.Fingerfood!Sausagerollsandloveheartshapedfairycakes.Heart-shapedballoonsfloatintheair.Agiantredheartcakesitsinthemiddlewithadevilishcreamcheesetopping.Asplodgeoflove;dipyourfingerinandtastethelove.Mmmmmm.Custard

tartsandahumorouscheeseboardwithsomedatesandabunchoffatgrapes.

Letmeintroducemypartyguests.Pokingthebrie,wehavetheretiredactressandverygoodfriendofmine,MrsLavenderCharm.Shealsowritesmedievalhorrorsandmakesexcellentchutney.Herapricotandwalnutismyfavourite.Herlatestbook,

SkullsofthePlagueLord,ismarvellousfun.Ithaspeoplescreamingwithblackpustules,alotofwhippingandsinisterlimpingmonks.I’vegivenherapinkpartyhat;itsitsonherheadlikeafairycrown.Maybeshehasawandinhercarpetbag?Makeawish,giveherakiss.

Iamwearing,asit’smybirthday,myfavouritered

waistcoatandaredpartyhat.

“MrLoveheart,”MrsCharmsays,smilinglikeagoodfairy,“don’tyoulookhandsome!”andshepinchesmycheek.“Youlovelynaughtyboy.”

“Sausageroll,mydearlady?”Iofferhertheplate.

“Icanneverresista

sausage,”shereplies,wagglingitabout.

“Norshouldyou,Madam,”Iconcur.

Theballoonsfloatintotheair;seethehearts,seetheheartsinmykingdomtakeflight,floataway.Maybetheywillfindthestars,reachintospace.Driftintothecosmos.Becomepartofa

starscape.

Icanseeyou,balloons.Icanseeyou.Offyoufloat,becomepartofastarmap.

MrLoveheartandhiskingdomofhearts.

Letmedazzleyou.Foldyouintomytimelines.Unravelyou.Let’sgomadtogether,mylove.Juggle

teacups.Bendrealitylikeaheadmaster’scane.Thwackyouonthebottomwithituntilyouunderstand.IamthemagicmanandIwanttodangleyourheadfrommytrees.

Seethebeautifulballoongopop.

Oh,mymindiswanderingagain.

OutfromtheshrubberystepsRufusHazard,wearingawonkyorangepartyhatandsmokinganenormouscigar.He’sbroughthismachetewithhimwithwhichhetrimstheazaleas.

“Wonderfulpieceofweaponrythis;slicesaheadoffassmoothasbutter.Itellyou,theyjustBOINGoffintothewilderness!Happy

Birthday,youmadoldfruit,”hegrins,hisredmoustachequivering.

“Itismarvelloustoseeyouagain.”

“Inevermissaparty,oldboy.I’vejustgotbackfromalittleexcursionintheHighlands.Nearlygotsacrificedtoacovenofwitches.Hadtoshootmy

wayout!”Helaughsandhismoustachewobblesonhisupperlip.

“Witchesarefeisty,”Isay,bitingintoacustardtart.

“Indeedtheyare.Oneofthemhadholdofmyleg,thesaucymare.Icouldn’tshakeheroff.Ihadtobootherinthehead,theminx!Nowtellme,whoaretheotherguests,

Loveheart?Anybeautiesforme?”

“MrsCharm.Theretiredactress.”Ipointovertothedearlady.

“IsawherasTitaniamanymoonsago.Superblegs.”Hesucksonhiscigar.

“LadyBeetleandheryoungson,Horatio.”They

areloiteringbythechampagne.

“Finelookingwoman.Issheattached?”

“Husbanddead.Buriednearthecompostheapatthebackofherestate,soIunderstand.”

“Egads!Ablackwidowspider,eh?”andhiseye

glitters.

“MrGrubweed,retiredundertaker.”Hestandsalone,spooninganenormousheapofgreenjellyintoabowlandsplattingcreamontop.

“Odd-lookingfellow.Andhowdoyouknowthesepeopleexactly?”

“It’sthefirsttimeI’vemet

them,excludingMrsCharm.They’remyneighbours.Aren’ttheyfunny.”

“Yourneighbours?Doyounothaveanyotherfriends,dearboy?”

“They’realldeadorunavailable,”Isay.“DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnutarebusyonacaseinvolvingacursed

stolenIndiansapphire.”

“Soundsfamiliar,”Rufuschortles.“What’sthecurse?”

“IfyoutouchthejewelyouareimmediatelytransportedtoAberystwyth.”

Hiscigarfallsoutofhislipsandheshudders.“JesusChrist!”andhewhisperslowinmyear.“Iknowa

demonologist,amarvellouschapcalledProfessorToad,whoclaimsthataccursedshitholeisaportaltohell.”

“Custardtart?”Iofferhimtheplate.

“No,I’msavingmyappetiteforthatvixen,LadyBeetle,andpossiblyascotchegg.Now,whoisthatstrangecreature?”andhepointsa

fingerinthedirectionofaspindly-lookingpriestwearingagreenpartyhatandproddingoneofthedanglingseveredheads.

ReverendWormholesuddenlyscreams.“OHMYGOD.IT’SREAL.ITSEYEBALLJUSTFELLOUT!”

Ispeakoverhisscreaming.

“ReverendWormhole;he’sreallyveryfunny.Hebelievessomesortofdarkcultisouttoassassinatehim.”

“Really?Andwhyisthat?”

“Isneakontotheparishroofatnightdressedupinblackrobesandapairofhorns,andwavethroughhiswindow.”

“Haha!Youstrangebanana!”AndRufusslapsmeontheback,somyplateofcustardtartswobbles.

Sadly,Iammissingaguest.ProfessorHummingbird,theeminentcollectorofbutterflies,failedtoRSVP.Asuresignthathe’ssuspicious!Iwillhavetopayalittlevisittohimaftertheparty.Sneakintohis

gardens.Pluckadaisyortwo.

IhandtheplateofcustarddelightstoHoratioBeetle,theghastlyspoiledteenagebrat.

“IDON’TWANTANY,”hewails.

“Wouldyoumindholdingtheplate,youngman?”Iask.

“NO,BUGGEROFF,YOUWEIRDO,”hereplies.

“Doyouknowwhathappenstoboyswithbadmanners?”

“NOTHINGBECAUSEI’MRICH.”

“Theyexplode.”

“WHAT?”

“That’sright.Suddenlyandwithoutwarning.”

Horatiolooksatmewithathickscowlandthentakestheplateoftarts.

Hismother,LadyBeetlesauntersover,“Darling,you’renotaservant.Whyareyouholdingthat?”

“MRLOVEHEARTSAIDIWOULDEXPLODEIFIDIDN’T.”

IwanderbackinsideLoveheartManor,takeMrFingersapieceofthebirthdaycake.Redandyellowsponge.Tasteslikehearts.

“Hello,MrFingers,Ibroughtyoucake.”

Hestaresatmefromhismirrorprisonlikeanoctopusstuffedinapreservativejar.

Eyesfullofbrokenbitsandpieces.Discarded.Hesaysnothing,thepickledthing.

Deathappearsinafizz-whiffofsmoke,wearingablackpartyhat.

“Happybirthday,MrLoveheart.”

“Youcertainlyknowhowtomakeanentrance.”

“Ibroughtyouapresent.”Hetriestosmile,it’sveryunnerving.Andhehandsmeaboxwithabigblackbowonit.

“Ilovesurprises.”

“Wellyou’lllikethisthen.”Hisexpressionrevealsnothing.

Iunwrapitandopenthe

lid.It’sablackjewelledcrown.

MrFingersisscreaming,poundinghisfistsagainstthemirror.

“Putiton,”Deathsays.

Itakeoffmyredpartyhat.Putthespikedblackcrownonmyhead;itglittersofdemonmagic.

“Yourrightfulinheritance.Youareofage.”Henodshishead.“MrLoveheart,LordoftheUnderworld.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONOOOOOOOOOOONOOOOOOOOOOO!”MrFingersistryingtosmashthemirroropen.

Thecrownisveryheavy:itfeelsliketheweightofa

blackstarpushingmeintotheearth.“Whatdoesthismean?”

“Itmeans,”saysDeath,helpinghimselftothebirthdaycake,“thatthingsaregoingtogetveryinteresting.ThereisalsoanimportantmatterwhichIneedtodiscusswithyou,concerninganothergift.”

“Morepresents?Howthrilling!”

“YourpowersasLordoftheUnderworldwillnowstarttomanifestandtheycouldcomeinanyform.”

“HowwillIknowwhattheyare?”

“Iamnotsureofthespecifics,noonebothersto

keepmeuptodateontheseformalities,butitshouldhappensoon.”

“Thatisveryexcitingnews,IwonderwhatcuriouspowersIwillacquire?”

“Ifyourecall,yourpredecessor,MrFingers,hadaskillforself-replicationtoproduceheirs.”

“Ohyes,theywereratherhorribleasIrecall.”

“Yes,well,let’shopeyouacquiresomethingmoreuseful.”

“Ican’trecallBadDaddyhavinganyotherspecialpowers.”

“Well,hehadnosenseofhumour,whichismoreofa

curse,”sighedDeathwearily,“buthewasproficientatmanipulation;thegiftsvarydependingontheindividual.And,youknow,beingLordoftheUnderworldmakesyouexemptfrombeingkilledbystandardmethods.”

“Well,thatisgoodnews.Youwon’tbesneakingupbehindmeandhittingmeovertheheadwitha

lampshadeanytimesoonthen?Haha.”

Deathpeeredovermyshoulder,“Iwouldlikesomemorecakeplease.”

“Ofcourse,dearfriend,letusgobacktothepartyandcutaheftyslabforyou.Oh,andImusttellyoubeforeIforget,Imetsomeonerathernastyrecently,”Isay,

touchingthecrown,feelingthezapandtingle.

“Really?”helookscurious.

“Yes,theprimeminister.”

“VERYcareful,Loveheart,”saidDeath,“He’sdangerous.”

“HeratherupsetmeandIhaveamindtohavehimstuffedandputinthehall.”

“Beforeyoustrategizeyourrevengewhynotenjoyyourspecialday?”HepattedmeonthebackandleadmegentlyoutsidethegroundsofLoveheartManor.Thesunissizzling,thefairiesaresittinginthetrees,laughing,drunkonthetrifle.Onefallsoffthebranchheadfirstintoarosebush.Splat!

Alltherosesinmy

kingdomarered.There’snoneedforpaint.

Thecrownonmyheadglintswickedly.Itsweightseemsimpossible.Deathfollowsmeout,undertheshadows,andstartschattingtoMrHazard.

“Havewemet?”saysRufus.

“Notyet.”Hissmileisconcealed.

Iwanderdeeperintomygardens.Theselandsstretchonformiles,deepinwoodsandfields.Cherryandappletreesdanglewithfruits.Squashyorbs.Seethemwibble-wobbleandhittheearth.Itouchthecrown;itzapsmyfinger.IneversawMrFingerswearit.Perhaps

hekeptitforspecialoccasions.Keptunderthesinkwiththepotsofchutney.Welltodayisspecial.ItismybirthdayandIamnolongeramadprince.Iamamadking.ButIhavenoqueentosharemykingdomwith.Noqueen

hearts.

WhoshouldIpick?Theanswerissimple:

SOMEONE

Isitunderthecherrytreewithmywickedcrown.PerhapsIshouldadvertiseintheTimes?

KINGOFTHEUNDERWORLD

SEEKSQUEEN.

GOODSENSEOFHUMOUR.FONDOFCAKES.

MADASAKILT.

Ieatacherry,ponderthesignificanceofthemasafruit.HappyBirthdaytome.HappyBirthdaytome!HappyBirthdaytome!

Ifallasleep;dreamofdarkspaces.Untanglemyselffromanetofthegodofsleep.

Littlefish,littlefish.Iaminmyunderworld;theclocksnowallmovebackwards.

Iwanderinsidethediningroomofthisdarkpalace;seeacoilofintestinalsausagelyingonaplatteramongstaselectionofcutmeats.IknowI’mdreaming:theseareallroomswithinmyhead.Thisismykingdom,thisismykingdom.Underneaththe

world.Underneaththelayers;underskinandbone.Curiousthing,thiscrown.It’sitchingmyhead.Iscratchandlookaboutmeatthisdream;myunderworld.Myhorrorworld.Tasteslikegoldensyrup;surprisinglysweet.

Iamshakenawake.

“MrLoveheart?”MrHazardgrins,bigteeth

revealedthroughafuzzoforange.“Wakey,wakeybirthdayboy.We’reallwaitingforthepartygames.”

“Ohhowfun!”andIleaptomyfeetandadjustmycrown.

IwalkwithRufusbackacrossthegardenlawn.Theballoonsaresoulsonastring.Someoneletgo.

Iringalittlesilverbell,ding-a-ling.Theeyesofmyguestareuponme.“Thankyoueveryoneforcomingtomybirthdayparty.Itislovelytofinallymeetyouall.AndnowIthinkweshallplayalittlegameofpasstheparcel.There’sasurpriseforwhoeverwins.”

“Mamma,”squealsHoratio,“Iwantthe

surprise!”

“Andifyou’relucky,”Isaydarkly,“youshallgetit.”

(Fiveminuteslater)

ObservationbyMungo,the

GroundsmanofBeetleManor

I’mleaningonashovel,observingasuspiciouschrysanthemum.

SuddenlyIhearanexplosionfollowedbyascreamandseeyoungMasterHoratioBeetleflyingthroughtheairandintothepond.Well,buggermeifIdon’tracedownthereasfastasI

canandfishthelittlenipperout.

He’snothappy.HetellsmetoSodOff.I’mtemptedtohithimovertheheadwithmyshovelbutmygrandmothertaughtmegoodmanners,soIhelpthespoiltrascalbacktohismother,who’swaitingforhimbyanovergrownrhododendronbush,holdingaheart-shapedballoon.

TheBlackDog

It’samilewalkalongawoodlandpathtoourUncle’shouse.TheReverendPlumwhistlesashewalks,grippingBooBoo’slittlehand.Herotherhandiswithinthefrog

puppet,wholooksabout,googly-eyedinwonderathissurroundings.

“It’ssimplyagloriousdayinGod’sgarden,”sighsReverendPlum.

There’sarummaginginthebushesandoutstepsayounggentlemanwearingapurplewaistcoatandjacketcoveredinredhearts.Hishairisthe

colourofangels:adazzlingyellow.Inhishandshecarriesaseveredhead,whosemutilatedstumpdripsontothepath.Helooksatuswithhisinkblackeyesandsmilesmischievously.“Goodafternoon.I’mafraidifyou’vecomeforthepartyyou’vemissedallthecake!”

BooBooislaughing.Thereverendscreams.Theyoung

gentlemankeepswalkingacrossthepathandintotheforestontheotherside.Thebloodtrailoftheseveredheadissplatteredonthepathlikerosepetals.

“Whydoesthefunnymanhaveahead?”laughsBooBoo.

“He’samadman!We’realltobemurdered!”screamsthe

hystericalReverendPlum.

“Ithinkwe’resafe.He’sgone,”Isay.

ReverendPlummakesusruntherestoftheway.

MyUncle’shouseissurroundedbyaspikedironfenceandisgloomylookingandrun-down.Thehouseisadirtygreycolourwithasmall

herbgardeninthebackwhichleadsintoatumblingexpanseofmorewoodland.OutsidethegatessitsanenormousblackhoundwhichgrowlsatReverendPlum.

“Myheartcan’ttakemuchmoreofthis,”hesays,clutchinghischest.BooBooletsgoofhishandandstrokesthedog,whoseemsverypleasedandthenrolls

overandgetshistummytickled.Iunlockthelatchonthegate,whichcreaksopenrathertheatrically.TheReverendPlumcomposeshimselfandknocksonthedoor,dizzywithrelief.

(thesameday)

Aberystwythstation

DETECTIVEWHITE&CONSTABLEWALNUT

WalnutandIareonatrainpullingoutofAberystwythstation,forthethirdtime.Asolitarysheep,whoI’msurerecognizesus,staresandbleats,whilerainpoundstheroofofthetraincarriage,splatteringthewindows.Theskyisadismalshadeofpurgatory-porridge.

Walnutwavesatthesheep.

“WhatdidItellyou,Walnut?”Isay,exasperated.

“Um…”Hestopswavingandlooksatmeshamefacedly.“Yousaid‘Don’ttouchitorwe’llendupinWalesagain’.”

“SOWHYDIDYOUDOIT?”

“IjustthoughtI’dgiveita

littlepolish,makeitlookniceforInspectorBadger.”

Thecurseofthisparticularjeweltransportsnotonlytheidiotwhotouchesitbutanyonestandingwithinafewfeet.

Isinkbackintomyseat.Isigh,exhalingalltheairfrommylungs.Hopefully,Imaypassout.Wearen’talonein

thisembarrassment.ConstableLuckandthetealady,MrsSultana,hadbothbeenstupidenoughtofiddlewiththataccursedsapphire.MrsSultana,havingmadethemostofhersurprisedayout,hadvisitedhernephew.Apparentlyhe’salocksmithwholivesuptheroad.

“WhatdoyouthinkChiefInspectorBadgerwilldowith

thesapphire?”Walnuttakesacheeseandpicklesandwichoutofhisjacketandtakesanenthusiasticbite.

“Ifhehasanysense,he’llthrowitintotheThames.”Ilookoutofthecarriagewindowatthealltoofamiliarswellanddipofvegetablegreen.Thegreydrizzleofskyline.

Walnutmunchesonhissandwich.

Theticketinspectorappearswithawidegrin.“Well,well,”hesays,slidingthecarriagedooropen.“Youtwoagain.Youjustcan’tkeepawayfromourbeautifulland.”Andhestartssinging,hiseyesglisteningoverwithWelshmists.

Itakemypistoloutandaimitathishead.“StopthatatonceorI’llshootyou.”

HeadsonTrees

MRLOVEHEARTDECAPITATESHIS

WICKEDNEIGHBOURS

I’mhidinginabush,observingFangusOil,thelocaldrunkwhoexposeshimselftowomenandrandomsheep.He’surinatingagainstatreesinging“ScarboroughFair”,whichaloneisanexcellentreasonforhisimminentdemise.

Istandbehindhimandcoughpolitely.“Ahem.”

“Whatdoyouwant?”Heturns,peeringatme,wobbling,strawberrynosed,smellinglikeadecomposingcorpse.

“MynameisJohnLoveheartandIwouldlikeyourhead.Ifyouwouldplaceitinthebagplease,”andIopentheblackvelvetsack(withtrademarkloveheart)thatI’vebroughtwithme.

“Areyoualittlebitfunnyinthehead?”hesays,andbreaksintosong:“Parsleeeey,saaaaage,rosemaryandthyme…lalala.”

Icuthisheadoffimmediatelyandslingitinthesack.

IcreepfurtherintothewoodsandfindDaisyDungbeetlepicking

poisonousmushroomsandplacingtheminherwickerbasket.Schoolmistress,avidreaderofvampirenovels–andpart-timemurderess.

“Madam,”Istepoutamidstthetoadstoolring,“Iamheretostopyourwickedways,”andIaimmyswordather.

Shehissesatme.Baresherteeth,flickershertongue.

Holdsablackmushroomupandthrustsitatme.“IcurseyouwiththisfungusoftheDarkMaster.”

“Areyouthreateningmewithamushroom?”

Itossherheadinthesack.

Lastly,afterpluckingsomewildstrawberriesfromthe

woodlandpath,IfindJudgeThumpusZopsnoozinginhisgarden,acopyoftheTimesfoldedneatlyonhislap.Hehasareputationforcruelty.Itaphislegwithmyancestralsword.

“WHATTHEDEVIL?”heshouts,awakeningfromhisslumber.

“Youhavebeenaverybad

boy,Judge.”

“Whatareyou?”

“TheDemonLordoftheUnderworld…Ooh,nowI’vesaiditalouditsoundsratherimpressive.”

“Ohcrap.”

Hetriestosprintacrossthelawnandtripsupoverabasketofcourgettes.Picks

oneupandtriestostabmewithit.

Ihangtheirheadsfromredribbonsinmygardens.Whatprettydingledanglythings.Pokethemandtheywobbleabout.

Whatfun.Whatfun!

MrLoveheartsneaksintoProfessorHummingbird’s

Gardens

It’salovelynightforaspotofmischief.Thecosmos

abovethelittleworldofDarkwoundissoapy;bubblesofstar-frothwhite.Galaxieswinkunderwater.

ThewoodsaroundtheProfessor’smoatedcastleareverythorny.IhavealreadytrippedoverawartyrootandIhavehadwordswithit.Givenitagoodtalkingto.

Hisgardensneedtending,

alwaysasignofadementedmind.Hisvioletsareshrivelled(asuresignofhisunhingedbrain)andhiswaterlilieslookdepressed.Poorthings.

Iscalethesideofhiscastle,climbuptheivy.Launchmyselfontohisrooftopsandlookoverhisdomain.Yes,Ithinktomyself.He’sclearlyavillain,

forIspyweedssproutingoutofhischimneypot.Mmmmm.Istrollacrosstheroofandfindawindowopenandhangdownandpeerin.Andthereheisinhisstudy,

MYGOD!

Thewallpaperishideous.Somesortoffloralobscenity!

Andhisbutterflies,

hundredsofthemframedinglass.Piercedthroughtheirhearts.

Ismellaserialkiller.Whatisthathe’sscribbling?Awickedjournalofhisatrocities,nodoubt.

Ilosemyfootingandfallintotheshrubberybelow.Whoops!Imayhavebuggeredmyankleup.

LeapingoutofthebushesIsneakroundthegarden,observingaveryquestionablelookingpotatoplant,whichIprodwithmyfoot.Itexplodesinblackpus.Ineednofurtherproofthatheisinsane,andcursedwithablackfingerwhenitcomestohorticulture.

Aha!Ifindanopenwindowonthegroundfloor

andslip,unnoticed,intohispantry.Mmmmmmisthatapumpkinpie?Iamsoveryfondofpumpkins,theyaresuchanamusingshape.

Thepieisexcellent.Iputmyfeetuponhiskitchentable,eatanothersliceandcontemplatemyoptions.

Iwigglemyankle.Thinkaboutstuffingasockinhis

mouthandbeatinghimwithhissinisterpotatoplant.Makeamashofhim

Ifallasleep,zzzzzJustalittledoze.Wakeupwithabeetroot-facedwomanstaringatme.

“Whatthebleedin’hellareyoudoinginmykitchen?”

sheyells,herfaceabloatedthing.

Oops!It’smorning.

“Madam,”Isay,“There’snoneedtobealarmed,Iwasjustsamplingyourdeliciouspumpkinpie.”

“Slingyerhook!”andshethwacksmewithateatowel.“GOON,BUGGEROFF!”

andbeatsmeonthebottomwithit.

Idartoutofthewindow,shouting,“Farewell,goodlady,”followedby,“Ibelieveyourpotatoplantmaybedead.”

Shethrowsapotatme,whichnarrowlymissesmyheadandthudsagainstatree.

DinnerwiththeGrubweeds

Thediningtablesagsundertheweightofaroastturkeyandtworoastgeese,anenormousmoundofroastpotatoes,butteredcarrotsand

apotofsteaminggravy.Myuncle,PhilipGrubweed,sitsattheheadofthetable.Heisaretiredundertakerwhohadmadeasmallfortuneafterafreakoutbreakofcholeraandwithhissavingshadboughtthisrun-downmanorhouse.Heishugelyfatandhasseveralchinswhichbobupanddown,greathairypinkhandsandmoistpiggylittleeyes.

“Welcometoyournewhome,PedrockandBooBoo,”hesays,stuffingagooselegintohismouthandsuckinguptheskin.

MyAuntJosephinesitsoppositehimwithalacycapperchedonherhead.Shelookshalf-dead.Skinstretchedoverherface,gumsdrawnback,eyesglassyanddull.Ithinkshe’shardly

awarethatwe’rehere.Ipassthecarrotstoher.Sheignoresmeandgazesatthewall.

Theyhavethreechildrensittingroundthetable.Twogirls,PrunellaandEstelle,bothpodgyandblonde,withpinkribbonsintheirhair,andbothagedten.Andason,who’stheeldestatsixteen,calledCornelius.Heisstabbinghisturkeyleg

repeatedlywithhisforksohardthetableshakes.

“Stopthat,youlittleshit!”criesUncleGrubweed,andbelches.

Corneliusmutterssomethingdarkunderhistongueandputshisforkdownbegrudgingly.

“Wemetamostunusual

characterinthewoodstoday,”intervenesReverendPlum.

“Who?”saysUncle.

“Well,hewasdressedmoststrangelyinpurplewithlovehearts,andhewascarryingwhatappearedtobeahumanhead.”Helaughsnervously.

“That’soneofour

neighbours.MrLoveheart.He’sasrichasaprinceandasmadasabadger.Iwasathisbirthdaypartyearlierthisafternoon.Bizarreaffair.Strangepuddings!”

“Ishedangerous?”ReverendPlumgulps.

“Well,let’sjustexamineyourlaststatementwhereyouobservedhewascarryinga

humanhead.Ithinkyou’vealreadyansweredyourownquestionthere,reverend,”andmyUnclelaughsoutloud.

“Woulditbepossibletohaveanescorttothestationtomorrowmorning,justincasehereappears?”

“Corneliuswillwalkyou,won’tyouson?”

Corneliusisplayingwithaveinintheturkeyleg.

“Excellent.Ifeelsaferalready.Doyouhaveanyotherinterestingneighbours,MrGrubweed?”

Uncleputshisforkdown,havingskeweredaroastpotatothesizeofafist.“OurnearestisLadyUrsulaBeetleandherson,Horatio,whois

thesameageasCornelius.He’sahandsomedevil.Theirhouseoverlooksthelake.DeeperinthewoodsisthehomeoftheretiredProfessor.HeusedtoteachanthropologyorsomeothernonsenseatauniversityinLondon.He’saneccentricrecluse.AndjustroundthecornerintheyellowcottageistheretiredactressMrsCharm.Shemakesrathernice

chutneys.”

“Well,I’msurePedrockandBooBooaregoingtohavelotsoffunwithalltheseinterestingpeople,”saysReverendPlum,stuffingabutteredcarrotintohismouth.

“So,Pedrock,”saysMrGrubweed,“doyouandyoursisterhaveanyhobbies?”

“Ilikesailing,sir.”

“Sailing,eh?WellIknowGrandpaupstairshasanoldboathemightletyouuseonthelake.

Andwhataboutyou,BooBoo?”

BooBooreplies,thefrogsockpuppetmouthingtheanswer,“Iamadinosaur.I

liketoeatpeople.”

“She’safunnylittlegirl.Certainlymorelivelythanmythree.”

“Whataboutschoolingforthem?”inquiresReverendPlum.

“Let’snotworryaboutthatoverdinner.MrsCharmdoessomeoccasionaltutoring,I

amsurethatwillsuffice.Andofcoursethere’sSundayschool.Thevicar,MrWormhole,providesastimulatingenvironmentforyoungminds.”

“Itallsoundsveryencouraging.”

TheconversationfortherestofthemaincoursecomprisesofMrGrubweed

goingintosomelengthabouthowyoudrainacorpseofallitsbodilyfluidsandthepriceofcoffinsthesedays.Thepuddingisfinallybroughtout:threepipinghotappleandblackberrypieswithabowlofhotcustard.

Iamhandedahugeslice,whichIdrownincustard.

“Whodoesthebigblack

dogbelongto,MrGrubweed?”Iask.

“He’sGrandpa’s.HisnameisGuardian.Toreaman’slegoffonce,buggerwastryingtobreakintothehouse.”

“Howcharming.Doyouhavealocalconstabulary?”coughsReverendPlum.

“No.Whenthere’strouble,

whichtherehasbeen,afellafromScotlandYardpopsupandinvestigates.”

“Whatsortoftroublehaveyouhad?”

“Well,apartfromtheoddthievingandpoaching,quiteafewpeoplehavegonemissingoverthelastfewyears.”

“Missing?”

“Justdisappeared.Bodypartswerefoundinthewoods.”

“Goodheavens.Hasanythinghappenedrecently?”asksReverendPlum.

“Lastmonth,thebutcher’swife,MrsCrumble.Theyfoundherfoothangingoffa

treeontheBeetleestate.”

“Howdidtheyknowthefootwashers?”Iask.

“Cleverboy.Well,apparentlysheonlyhadfourtoesononefoot.It’sprobablygypsies,ormightbeMrLovehearthavingalaugh.”

ReverendPlumhasgoneapeculiarshadeofgreen.“I

don’tfeelverywell,”hesays,puttingdownhisdessertspoon.

“Idon’tthinkwecanaffordtooverreact,”sighsMrGrubweed.“Therearecertaincompromisesonemakeswhenmovingtothecountryside.”

“Compromises?”criesaflabbergastedreverend.

“Therearealotofweirdoesouthere.I’mamanoftheworld.Myownfather,whowasabricklayer,usedtooccasionallydressupinaballgownandtiaraandhangoutattheDocks.Bodypartsinthewoods;it’sallpartoflife.I’veseencorpsesexplodebefore.”

“Ineedtoliedown,”saysReverendPlum,risingfrom

hischair.“Ihaveaweakheart.”

“Josephinewilltakeyoutoyourroom.”Hiswife,whohasn’tmovedallevening,standsveryslowlyand,lurchinglikearecentlydugupcorpse,escortsReverendPlumintothehallway.Ifinishmyapplepieandhaveasecondhelping.Itisdelicious.

Afterdinner,BooBooandIaretakenupstairstoourbedrooms,whicharesituatedintheattic.BooBoo’sisatinylittleroomwithasmallwindow.Ikisshergoodnightandsheistuckedinwithherfrogpuppet.GuardianthedogamblesupthestairsandslumpshimselfoutsideBooBoo’sbedroom,keepingone

eyeopen.

Myownroomislarger,withaviewoverlookingtheherbgardenandthewoods.Istandontiptoeand,peeringout,canseethroughthemassoftreesaturretpeekingthrough.This,Ithink,mustbethehomeofthemysteriousProfessor.

ThatnightIdreamthe

worldismadeofwater.Iamonaboatwhichfloatssoftlyonanoceanlandscapeasblueasangeleyes.Amirrorworld.Icanseefatfishandsuffocatingvegetationdeepunderwater,tendrilsofblackseaweedandmutationsofjellyfish.Oddglimpsesofscissor-likecreatures,horror-white,glisteningunderthelooking-glassripples.

Bloatedegg-layingmachines,withrainbowfins,driftlazilybymylittleboat,whichdriftsdeeperintothewater-world.Loosingitselfinliquid.

Standingnexttomeisamandressedasapoliceofficer,andheputshishandsonmyshouldersandwhispersinmyear,“Theybite.”

Iwakewithajolt,nearlyfallingoutofbed.IcanhearmuffledvoicesfromBooBoo’sroom.

IputmyeartothewallbutIcan’tmakeanywordsout.IgetoutofbedandstepontothelandingwhereGuardianissleepingpeacefully.IopenthedoortoBooBoo’sroomandsheissittinguprightinbed.Butthereisnooneelse

there.

“Areyoualright,BooBoo?Iheardvoices.”

Shelooksatmecuriously.“Ihadbaddream.”Shepullsthecoversoverherhead.Thefrogpuppetissittingonherpillowstaringatme.

MrLoveheartdreams

Ilayinastarshapeonmygiantredfour-posterbed,dottedwithheartsandbigsquidgyheart-shapedcushions.IhavedecidedIwillgetupatlunchtimeand

eatsomejamsandwiches.

Isnooze,rolloverandblotouttheslitherofsunlightthatsizzlesthroughthecurtains.

Closemyeyes,squeezethemshut.Imaginespaceswithinspaces.Labyrinthswithinlabyrinths.Yougomadinsidethem.Retraceoldfootsteps,walkbackwards,becomepartofthehedge.

Partofthepattern.

Iwinkaneyeopen.Seeafatfairywithblackwingszoomacrosstheroom,hoverovermyhead.Shehasrazorteethandwingsofebonyglitter.

“Oh,hello,”Isayintothepillow.

Shezoomsuptomyear,

whispersintoit.“IhavecometoinformyouofyourGiftsasLordoftheUnderworld.”

“Excellent,shallwehavesomejamfirst.”

Sheslapsmeacrossmycheekandsqueaks,“NO,youshalllistentome.”Oh,sheisratherstrict.

Shehoversclosetomy

earhole,“Whoeveryoukisswillliveforeverandifyoukissthedeadtheywillcomebacktolife.”

“Nowthatiscurious.”

Shecontinues,thistimewhisperingverylow,“Youhavethegiftofmadness.Youcanturnothersinsane;maketheirmindturnupsidedown.TheUnderworldisalsonow

atyourcommand,mylord.”

“Thatisrathersplendid.”

Squeak!

MeetingGrandpaGrubweed

Breakfastisenormous,consistingofbacon,eggs,crumpetsandhoney.Itiseighto’clockandIsitinthe

kitchenwiththeReverendPlum,asnooneelseisoutofbedyet.MrsTreacle,theCook,poursthetea.Shehasakindmoonfaceandgivesmeawink.

“Thankyouforfindingmysisterandmeahome,”IsaytoReverendPlum.

“Youareverywelcome,Pedrock.”Hebuttersa

crumpet.“Ishallbevisitingeveryfewweekstoseehowyou’rebothdoing.”

“Areyoufeelingbetterthismorning?”Ienquire.

“Yes,thesleepdidmegood,althoughIhadthemostcuriousdream.”

“Pleasetellmewhatitwas.”

“Itwasaboutyoursister.Shewasdiggingupdeadbodiesinthegarden.Dreamsare,ofcourse,causedfromlapsesofillhealth.Ibelievemyintestineshaveafungalinfectioncausingmetohallucinate.”

MrsTreacleleansover.“MrGrubweedwantsyoutopopupstairsafterbreakfastandseeGrandpa,”andshe

givesmeakissonthecheek.“I’mmakingrabbitpiefordinnertonight,andtrifleforpudding.Don’tworry,Reverend,I’vealunchpackedforyouforthetrain.Plentyofhamandcheesesandwiches,andaslabofleftoverapplepie.”

“Thankyou,MrsTreacle.Ilookforwardtoeatingthem.”

AftereatingfartoomanycrumpetsandsayingfarewelltoReverendPlum,IascendthestaircaseandenterGrandpa’sroom.IfindhimsittinginanarmchairwithBooBooandGuardianathisfeet.Heisblind,hiseyeswhiteaseggs.HewearsastrangeIndiangreendressinggownandisbald,withawispywhitebeard.

“YoumustbePedrock.”Hisvoiceiscoolandsoothing.

“Yes,sir.”Isitbyhisfeetwithmysister.

“Iwasjusttellingyoursisterthatshe’sgotafriendforlifeinGuardian.He’sanoldsoppybuggerofadogandverypickyaboutwhomhechooses.”

BooBooticklesGuardian’snose.

“Nowchildren.Youhaveanadventureaheadofyoutoday.Iwantyoutovisitallyourneighbours–MrsCharm,LadyBeetle,theVicarMrWormhole,MrLoveheartandtheProfessor.Youaretointroduceyourselves.Andthenyoucantellmewhatyouthinkof

them,”hechuckles.“Andtonightmyson-in-lawinformsmethatwehaveaspecialguestcomingfordinner.HisnameisIcarusHookeye,he’safriendoftheProfessor.Isn’tthatexciting!Now,offyougoandhavesomefun.AndPedrock…”

“Yes,sir?’’

“Ishallarrangeforyouto

takemyboatout.Wouldyoulikethat?”

“Yes,sir,verymuch,thankyou.”

Andweleavehimdozingoffinhischairandbeginthelakesidetrudgeintothevillage.MrsTreaclehasmadeBooBooabaconsandwichandoneforGuardian,thesmellenchantingtheairlikea

wickedspell.

Thepathtothevillagetricklesroundtheedgeofthelakewhichisflatandcalmwithmottledfeatheredducksfloatingaimlesslyonitssurface.Butterflieswithfairy-glamourwingsofcottonwhiteandfizzypinkhangintheair,skimmingoverthetoadywater-reedsandlumpishrocks.

ThevillageitselfisverysmallandconsistsofapubcalledTheHighwayman,abutcher’s,apothecary,bakeryandchurch.WeagreeourfirstcallshouldbetoseeMrWormhole,thevicar.

Thechurchissmallandmedievalwithatinygraveyardfilledwithdandelions.WefindMrWormholekickinga

crumblinggravestonewithhisfoot,shouting,“Bloodything!”

“Hello,”Isay.

“Oh,Idoapologise.”Helooksupatus.“Ikeeptrippingoverthisthing.Inearlytwistedmyankle.”

“WearelivingwithourUncleGrubweed.Mynameis

PedrockandthisismysisterBooBoo.”

Hecastsabeadyeyeoverus.“IhopeIshallbeseeingyoubotheverySunday.Wecoulddowithsomenewbloodinthiscommunity.Peoplekeepgoingmissing,”andhelookedsuspiciouslyoverhisshoulder.Hehasthemostshockingmessyredhairandgreatbushyred

eyebrows.

“WewerepreviouslystayinginaconventnearCharingCross.”

“Anexcellentbeginningtolife.”Hewagglesafingeratthedandelions.“I,too,wasraisedbynuns.MymotherleftmeinabucketoutsideStUrsula’sConvent.”

“I’msosorrytohearthat.”

“Ohno,youngPedrock.Itwasagift.Iwaseducated,wellfedandloved.Nothingmoreachildrequires.”Hewalkedwithusdownthepathtowardsthechurch.“Ifithadnotbeenforthosenuns,IwouldnothavefoundthejoyofGod.”Heslipsonaropey-lookingweedandfallsfaceforwardintoanopengrave.

Afterhelpingpullinghimout,wesayourfarewells.

OurnextstopisMrsCharm’scottage,whichisontheedgeofthevillage,nearthebakery.Thecottageislemonyellowandhergardeniscoveredinlavender.Iknockfurtivelyonthedoorandaveryshortladywithamaneofgreycurlyhairwhichfallsdowntoherwaistgreets

us.Shehaslavenderentwinedinherbraidsandhereyesaresparkling,greyandmischievous.

“Goodmorning,”shesays.

Iintroduceus.

“Ahhhh...threescallywags.Docomein.Ihaveapotofteaandsomefruitcake.”

Thecottagehasverylow

ceilingsandisstuffedfullofherbs,withlittlepotsfilledwithjamandpickles.Onherstovealargepotisbubbling,asweetsmellingconcoction.Wesitroundthetable,GuardianslumpingontherugbyBooBoo’sfeet.

“MyUnclesaysyouarearetiredactress.”

“That’scorrect,dear.Now

Ifocusmyattentionsonwritingnovels,”andshegenerouslycutsthefruitcakeintogreatslabsandputsthemonplatesinfrontofus.

“Whatsortofnovels?”Iask.

“Horror,mainly,”andshesmiles.“Iamcurrentlywritingamedievalsagasetinahauntedmonastery.My

hero,ayoungmonknamedMaximilian,issubjectedtothemostvividnightmares,andthen,becomingpossessedbyademonicforce,murderseveryoneinafivemileradius.”

“Itsoundsveryinteresting.HaveyoueverreadADangerousRomanceontheMoors?Ouracquaintance,theReverendPlum,wasvery

takenwithit.”

“Ican’tsaythatI’veheardofit,”shesays,thinkingtoherself.Shethrowsapieceofcaketothedog,whosniffsit,andthendevoursitavidly.“ThisisactuallymyfirstMedievalHorrorSaganovel.Ihopetocompleteaseriesofthem.”Hereyeswandertohershelfofcolourfulpreserves.“Youmusttake

someofmynewbatchofnettleandtomatochutney.Ithashintsofrosemaryinitforprotectionagainstmaliciousgossip.”Sherisesfromherchairandstartstopoursomeofthegloopyconstituentsintoacoupleofjamjars,andthen,twiningagreenribbonintoabowroundeachofthem,handsthemtome.

“Thereyougo,Pedrock.”

“Thankyou,MrsCharm.WearetovisitLadyBeetle,MrLoveheartandtheProfessor.”

“MrLoveheartoftendropsinforaliterarydiscussion.Heisveryfondofbooksandofmyraspberryjam.Lovelyman,withatheatricaldresssense.Iamveryfondofhim.AsforMrsBeetleandhersonHoratio,I’veonlymetthema

coupleoftimes.Notchutneylovers.Butpoliteenough.TheProfessorIhaveonlyheardofbyreputation;he’ssaidtohaveabrilliantmindandhasbecomearecluse.He’sobsessedwiththeAztecs,youknow.”

“SisterMarthaattheconventtoldusabouttheAztecs.Shesaidtheyperformedhumansacrifices

andatehearts.”

BooBooshouts,“Iwanttoeataheart.”

“Indeed?”MrsCharmraisesaneyebrow.

“WehavealreadymetMrWormhole,andheseemedratherdistracted.”

“Yes,poorfellow,Iamsurethatsomegreattragedy

hasbefallenhiminthepast.Orperhapssomemisalignmentwiththehemispheresofthebrain.Hissermonsarenotoriouslyappalling.Ihavebeentryingtohelphimwithhisstagepresenceandspeechdeliverance.”

WestaywithherforanhourandshetellsusaboutherlifeasaShakespearean

actressinLondon.HermostmemorablerolewasasQueenTitaniaplayingoppositeadrunkOberonwhofelloffthestageandwascarriedbackonbythefairies.Improvisation,shesays,isthekeytogreatacting.

WewavegoodbyeandmakeourwayalongthelongwindingpathtotheBeetleEstate,thebeesswarming

overagreatheapofcrimsonrosesthatgrowinamassbythelakeside.BooBootriestopullsomeoutandcutsherhandsonthethorns,examiningthebloodcuriouslyandthenlickingit.Thereisarustlingfromthebushes,theroseswaggleaboutandMrLoveheartappears,grinning,thankfullynotholdingahead.Heisdressedthistimeinpeacock

blue.Hishairisstickinguponendrathermessily.

“Helloagain.Wehaven’tbeenproperlyintroduced.IamMrLoveheart,”hesays.

“MynameisPedrockandthisismysisterBooBoo.”

BooBoostepsforwardandshakeshishand.“Youarethefunnymanwiththehead.”

“Yes,Iam,”andhebowsverylow,winkingatmysister.Thenwehearashotgungooffandmenshouting,“COMEBACKHERE,YOULUNATIC!”

“Ifyou’llexcuseme,somelocalsaretryingtoshootme,”andhescampersoffbackintothebushes.

“Goodbye.Nicetohave

metyou,”Icallout.

“Ilikehim,”saysBooBoo.

TheBeetleresidenceisagrand,cream-colouredhousewithaverytidylawnthatstretchestotherimofthelake.Itisserene,ifalittlecharacterless.ThemanservantescortsustothegardenwhereLadyBeetlesitsunderalarge,pink,lacyparasol,

writingwhatappeartobeinvitations.ThemanservantintroducesusandLadyBeetlelooksupfromunderherparasol,inspectingus.Shehasdarklittleeyesandisquitepretty.Shehandsmeanenvelope.

“PleasegivethistoyourUncle.We’rehavingalittlepartynextSaturday.Itsavesmethetroubleofpostingit.”

Guardianthedogcocksalegatthebackofherchair.Mercifullyshedoesn’tseehim.

“Thankyou,”Irespond,keepingafirmeyeonGuardian.

Sheseemsalittleinconveniencedatourpresenceandsighsratheraffectedly.“Iamratherbusy

today,children,andmysonHoratiohasbeensenttoCambridgetovisitmysister.HewillbebackforthepartyandIamsureyouwillmeethimthen.”Sheturnshereyesawayfromusandcontinueswritingherinvitations.“Iamsure,”shesayswithoutglancingatus,“thatyoucanseeyourselvesout.”

Andsowedo.

ThewalktotheProfessor’shouseisthroughdeepwoods,thelightfromthesunalmostblanketedbythethicknessofthetreeswhichcoverourheads.Theairiscoolandeerie.Guardianchasesarabbitthroughtheundergrowth,wagginghistailhappily.BooBoopicksforget-me-notsandmakesa

chainandputsthemwonkyinherhair.Finally,wecomeuponthehouse,whichisacrumblingmedievalkeepwithatower,surroundedbyamoatwithalittlewoodenbridge.

“Thewizardliveshere,”saysBooBoo.Shepointsafingeratthetower.

Wecrossthebridgeand

walkintoacourtyardwhereagentlemanwithwhitehairandglovesstands.Heispacingupanddown,smokingapipe.Seeingus,hestopssuddenlyandmovestowardsus.“CanIhelpyou?”

GuardiangrowlssoftlyandplaceshimselfinfrontofBooBoo.

“AreyoutheProfessor?”I

“No,Iamanassociateofhis.MynameisIcarusHookeye.Andyourdogdoesn’tseemtolikemeverymuch.”

“Oh.IthinkyouarehavingdinnerwithmyUncletonight.”

“Grubweed?Yes,Ihave

somebusinesswithhim.”Heeyesmecoolly.

“WehavecometointroduceourselvestotheProfessor.”

“Itwon’tbepossibletoseehimtoday.Asyoucansee,Ihavebeenwaitingforsometime.”

Hesoundsirritated.

Idon’tknowwhatelsetosaytohimsoweleaveandhewatchesusgo.AswecrossthebridgeBooBoopointsagainatthetowerandIseethefaceofamanpeeringdownatusfromtheuppermostwindow,partiallyobscuredbyshadow.

Theforestvegetationisthickaboutourankles,suffocatingthesunlight.

Custardyellowtoadstoolsripenamidstamassoffurry,greenishmoss.Creepycrawliesspyonusfromtheknotsintrees,thosehiddenandsecretspaces.Watchingus,antennastwitching.

Weareunderinsectsurveillance.

IcarusHookeyecomesfordinner

WhenIcarusHookeyearrivesthemoonhasrisenandishanginglikeamirrorintheblackvelvetofthenightsky.UnclePhilipgreetshimwith

afirmhandshakeandescortshimintothediningroomwhereMrsTreacle’srabbitpiessitsteamingalongsideheapsofbutteredmashpotatoesandashreddedcabbage.

“Firstdinner,andthenbusiness,”saysUncleGrubweed.Hespoonsanexcessivelygenerousportionofmashontohisplatewhile

Sallythemaidpoursredwineintothegentlemen’sglasses.

“AndwhereisMrsGrubweed?”enquiresMrHookeye.

“Sheisfeelingalittlefrailthiseveningandkeepingherfathercompanyupstairs.Itisnoparticularloss,sheisawomanofveryfewwords.”

That’sanunderstatement,Ithink.

CorneliusiskickingthelegofPrunella’schair.

“Daddy,tellCorneliustostop!”

UnclePhilipstandsupandsmacksCorneliusroundthebackoftheheadsohardhisheadfallsforwardintohis

dinner.PrunellaandEstellearelaughing.Corneliusrunsoutoftheroom,coveringhisface.

IamsatnexttoMrHookeye.Inoticehehasturquoiseeyeswhichremindmeofcolouredglass,asthoughhewereacharacterinastainedglasswindow.

“IamquitegladIhave

neverhadchildren,”hesays,lookingdirectlyatme.

MrGrubweedreplies,“Minearelittlebrats.Iamhopingtogetthesetwo,”(pointingtoPrunellaandEstelle)“marriedoffinthenextfewyears.HoratioBeetlewilldoverynicelyasason-in-law.WeGrubweedsmaynothaveanillustriousancestry,butwe’vegot

money.LadyBeetlecan’tturnhernoseupatthat.”

“Doyouteachattheuniversity?”IaskMrHookeye.

“No.Iamadoctor.IamtheProfessor’spersonalphysician.”

“Howistheoldfart?”Unclesays.

“Inafoulmood,itseems.”HegivesmyUncleaknowingglance.

“Well,I’msurehismoodwillpickupwithintime.”

“Ithadbetter,”Hookeyesays,glaringdisapprovinglyatthecabbageonhisplate.

Theconversationoverdinnergoesintosomelength

overLadyBeetleandherson,Horatio.LadyBeetleisawidowwhosehusbanddiedofastrokeafewyearsago.MyUncledescribesherasahandsomebutcoldwomanandHoratioasthe“prize”.HeislookingforwardtothepartyattheBeetlemansion,wherehecanshowhisdaughtersoff.

Whenpuddingarrives,Mr

HookeyeisalreadylookingboredanddeclinesandsomyUncletakeshimintothestudytodiscussbusiness.Wechildrenareleftwiththetoweringtrifle.BooBooeatsonlythecustardlayerandfeedsthespongetothedog.IverymuchwanttolistentowhatUncleandMrHookeyearesayingandsoexcusemyselfandputmyeartothestudydoorwhichisslightly

ajar.TheyarearguingaboutsomethingIcan’tmakeout.TheProfessorisangrywiththembothforsomething.Uncleshouts,“Thatolddevil,he’lldragusbothtohell!”andthenthedoorisshutandIrunbacktothediningroomwhereIfindPrunellalyingonthefloorwithBooBooholdingthetrifledishonherheadandEstellescreaming.Unclecomesrunningin

shortlyafterwithMrHookeye.

“Whatthebloodyhellisgoingonhere?”

Prunellastandsup,wipingtriflefromherface,crying.“Thatnastylittlebitch,Daddy.Sheattackedme!”

“Yes,Daddy.Prunellaistellingthetruth,”cries

Estelle.“Isaweverything.”

UncleGrubweedpicksBooBooupandtakesherupstairsandtellshertogotobed.Guardianfollowsandslumpshimselfoutsidethedoor.IfollowandwaitawhilebeforegoingintoBooBoo’sroom.Sheissittingonherbed,playingwithherfrogpuppet.

“BooBoo,whathappenedwithPrunella?”

“ShekickedGuardian,”shesays,andlooksawayfrommeandcontinuesplayingquitehappilywiththepuppet.

IgobackdownstairsandfindMrHookeyesmokinghispipeintheherbgarden.

“Quiteabad-temperedlittlesisteryouhave,”hesays.

“Don’tspeakaboutBooBoolikethat,”Isay,surprisedbytheangerinmyvoice.

“Englandputsangrylittlegirlsawayinmadhouses.”Andforthefirsttimehesmiles,ratherpleasedwith

himself.

ThatnightIhearwhisperinginBooBoo’sroomagain.Ihearlaughinglikebells.IdreamIambackintheworldofwater,onthelittlesailingboat.Thewaterisamassgraveofbodies,shiftinginheapedpilesofcorpses.Bobbling,greenandslimy.Theskyabovemeisdarkening,cloudsbecome

blackchimneys.Thesunisbeingeclipsed.Thepolicemaniswithmeontheboat,standingnexttome.BeforethesundisappearsIseeanotherboatnavigatingthroughthedenserollsofrottenflesh.Onitsmasthangsamoon-shapedlantern,whichglowsliquidsoftbluelightanditswhitesailiscoveredinredhearts.MrLoveheartisitscaptainand

heiswavingatme.

Iwakeuptothesoundofscreaming.Iimmediatelygodownstairstoinvestigate.ItisMrsTreaclewhoishysterical.SheisstandinginthekitchenoverthedeadbodyofMrIcarusHookeye.Hisdecapitatedheadispositionedafewfeetawayfromhim,nexttoawickerbasketofpotatoes,witha

lookofastonishmentfixedinhiseyes.

Stateofshock?

AnurgenttelegramissenttoScotlandYardfortheassistanceofthepolice.Thereactionofthehouseholdisunusuallyvaried.Cornelius,EstelleandPrunellaarequiteexcitedbythestrangedeathandareeventuallyconfined

totheirroomsfortheirownsafetywiththeirmother.Grandpathinksitishilariousandisbroughtdownstairstositinthelivingroomashewantstoheareverythingthatisgoingon.

UncleGrubweedpanicsandleavesthehousetoinformtheProfessor.MrsTreacleandSallyrefusetogobackintothekitchen,and

BooBooisquietasamouse,playingwithGuardiannearthewoods.

Someoneinthehouseisamurderer.SomeonehaschoppedMrHookeye’sheadoff.

Iwonderifitrolledalongthefloor?Iwonderifthemurdererhadbeentemptedtokickitlikeaballthroughthe

window?

IwonderwhyIamthinkingsuchthings.

DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnut

investigatethedeathofIcarus

Hookeye

ConstableWalnutandmyselfaretravellinginaveryunsteadyponyandtrapdrivenbythepublandlord’sson.Itamazesmethatthecontraptionhasn’tcollapsedandwehaven’tallfallenintoaditch.It’skeptgoingbysheerforceofwill.

Thetelegramarrivedlatemorningandwedispatchedimmediately.Detective

Waxfordwassupposedtobeassignedthecase,ashehaspreviousexperiencewiththisvillageanditsinhabitants.Buthehasabrokenfoot,duetochasingandcapturinganinfamouspickpocketofCamden,whomadethemistakeof“fingering”Waxford,hopefulforagoldpocketwatch.Insteadhewaspursued,thrownintoaslopheapoutsideabutcher’syard

andarrested.Waxford,ashortWelshman,barrel-shapedwithadarkbeard,isrenownedforhisfierytemper,doggedpersistence,andgreatloveofpoetry.WaxfordhaspreviouslyvisitedthevillageDarkwoundonfourseparateoccasions,andIamfullyawareofthe“missingpeople”caseswhichhaveamassedovertheyears.IhavethenotesofWaxford’s

journalonhispreviouscasesandhavereadoverthemonthetrain.Iamcuriousiftheremightbeaconnection.

OverthelastfiveyearsinthevillageofDarkwoundtherehavebeenthreecasesofgraverobbings,eightdisappearancesandthreesetsofbodypartsfoundinthewoods.Noarresthasbeenmadedespiteavigilant

investigationbyWaxford.Therehassimplynotbeenenoughevidence.Hisfrustrationisapparentinhisjournals,andhehaspointedtothreeindividualswhomhefindssuspicious.Waxford’sprimesuspectwasinitiallyLordLoveheart.Surprise,surprise.Waxfordhaddescribedhimas“anut”,“offhishead”and“clinicallyinsane”.

Inhisfirstinterview,MrLovehearthadpretendedtobedead.Andthat,byallaccounts,wasthemostproductiveoftheirinterviews.SoexasperatedwasWaxfordwithhimthathenearlyshothimoutsidetheVicarage.

IthasbeenmanymonthssinceIhaveseenMrLoveheart,althoughwehad

beensentaninvitationtohisbirthday(wewerestuckinWalesatthetime).Iorderthelandlord’ssontodrivebyLoveheartmanorenroutetotheGrubweedresidence.

Waxford’ssecondsuspectisMrGrubweed,theretiredundertaker,whonowisincrediblywealthy.WaxfordhadsuspectedGrubweedofcriminalactivitiesashehad

beeninvolvedinfraudwhenhewasinLondon–somerumoursofillicitgravedigging,butnothingsolidtoarresthim.

FinallyWaxfordhadpointedaheavyfingeratProfessorHummingbird.Hisnote–“IamconvincedtheProfessorisemployingGrubweedinsomenefariousscheme”–wasscribbledin

themargins.But,onceagain,noevidencestrongenoughtosupportanyallegationsofanythingcriminalagainsthim;averyfrustratedDetectiveWaxfordreturnedtoLondonandwasreassigned.

BeforewehaveevenarrivedattheLoveheartestate,MrLoveheartleapsoutofthebushesandontothe

“DetectiveSergeantWhiteandConstableWalnut.Iamsohappytoseeyoubothagain.”Inhishandsisabouquetofwildflowers,whichhehandstoWalnut.

“Thankyouverymuch,”saysWalnut,lookinggenuinelypleased.

“So,you’vecomebecauseofthemurder.It’sterriblyexciting,isn’tit?Andnoitwasn’tme,beforeyouask.Ihadnothingtodowithitatall.”

“Whataboutthemissingvillagers?”

“Imayhavedecapitatedafewundesirables.Ibelievetheywererunningademonic

cultinthewoods.Alotofsinginggoingon;dreadfulbusiness.”

“Ademoniccult,yousay?”

“Yes.Simplyghoulish!Thechantingwentonforhours.Andthegroupharmonieswerediabolical.”

“There’sacultnextdoortoScotlandYard,”Walnutadds

helpfully.“LotsofsuspiciousdroningonaSundaymorning.”

“That’snotacult,Walnut,it’sachurch,”Iinterrupt.

“Well,itsoundsunnatural.”

“DidyouknowIcarusHookeye?”IaskLoveheart.

Thedriverlooksround.

“Doyouwantmetoturnabout,sir,andheadfortheGrubweedhouse?”HestaresatMrLoveheart,thevillagemadman,withabemusedlook.

“Yes,thankyou,”Ireply.

“InevermethimbutIheardterriblethingsabouthim.HewastheProfessor’sdoctor.Didsomeworkwith

Grubweed.”

“Whatsortofwork?”

“Transportationofbodies,sodarkrumourstellme.”

“Forwhat?”

“Illegalmedicalexperimentationseemsalittlepredictabletome.Myguesswouldbesomethingmoresinister.”

“Anyproof?”

“Alas,Iamnotadetective.Thatisyourforte.”

“Anythingelse,Loveheart?”

“GoandvisitMrsCharm.Herchutneysarewonderful,”andhethrowshimselfoffthecarriage,nearlycatchinghisfoot,and,luckyasacat,lands

quitegracefullyintoabedofprimrosesasourcartjuddersonwards.Walnutsmellshisflowersandsmiles.

WearriveatthreethirtyexactlyattheGrubweedresidence.WearetakenstraighttothebodybyMrsTreacleandherdaughter,Sally,themaid.Awhitebedsheethasbeenlaidoverhimwithateatoweloverthe

“Ijustcouldn’tbearlookingatit,sorry.”

Iremovethesheetandteatowel.

“Suicide?”Walnutremarks.MrsTreaclegazesathim,horrified.

IslapWalnutroundthebackoftheheadandturnto

MrsTreacle.“Whofoundthebody?”

Sheavertshereyesfromthecorpse.“Icamedownatsixthismorningandfoundhimexactlyasyouseehim,sir.HewasadinnerguestandbusinessassociateofMrGrubweed.Stayedthenight.Hisroomwasonthesecondfloor,withthebluedoor.”

Theheadhasbeencleanlychoppedoff.Igothroughtheman’spocketsandfindasmallnotebook,apairofpoundnotesandapipe,sometobaccoandakey,allofwhichIremove.Thereisnosignofastruggle.Theheadhasbeentakenoffinoneswipebyanaxeorlongknifeanditwasasurpriseattack,judgingsimplybytheman’sexpression.Itwouldhave

takensomeonestrongtogetaheadoffinoneblow;itwasmostexpertlydone.Isearchthekitchenforthepossiblemurderweapon,buttonoavail.

“Walnut,arrangefortheremovalofthebodytothecoroner’sandstartasearchofthehouseandsurroundingareaforanaxeorlargebladedweapon.”

“Yes,sir.”

ItakeMrsTreacleandSallyoutsideintotheherbgardenandwesitdownonasetofchairsaroundatable.

“Tellmetheeventsoflastnight?”

“HearrivedateightandhaddinnerwithMrGrubweedandthechildren.I

believeheretiredforthenightaboutmidnight.”

“How?”

Sallyanswered,“Ipassedhimonthestairsgoingintohisroom.IhadjustbeencheckingonGrandpa.Theirroomsarenexttoeachother.”

“Dideitherofyounoticeanythingpeculiarhappen

duringtheevening?”

Sallyanswered,“Notreally.MrGrubweedandMrHookeyeretiredtothestudytodiscussbusinessafterdinner.Therewasafightthatbrokeoutbetweenthechildrensoonafterbutapartfromthatnothingunusual.”

“Whatsortoffight?”

“MissBooBooattackedMissPrunella,stuckherheadinthetrifledish.Ididn’twitnessit,justheardaboutitafter.”

“ButMrHookeyedidn’thaveanargumentwithanyonethatevening?”

“Notthatweknowofsir,”repliesMrsTreacle.

“AndyouropinionofMrHookeye?”

Theyglanceatoneanotherdoubtfully.MrsTreaclerespondsfirst.“Hewasn’tveryfriendly.”

“Hewasarudebugger,”snapsSally.Hermotherglancesworriedlyather.“Ionlymethimafewtimes,buthewasnevernicetoanyone.

Smugandslippery.”

“WhatsortofbusinesswereMrGrubweedandMrHookeyeinvolvedwith?”

“SomethingtodowiththeProfessor.MrHookeyevisiteduseveryfewmonths,”saysMrsTreacle.

“Andthework?”

“Idon’tknow,sir.”Sally

alsoshakesherhead.

“DoyouknowofanyonewhowouldwanttohaveharmedMrHookeye?”

“No,”theysayinunison,bothshakingtheirheads.

“Thankyou,ladies.AndnowIwouldverymuchliketointerviewMrGrubweed.”

“He’snothere,sir,”says

Sally,“He’svisitingtheProfessor,butheshouldbebackforhisdinner.MrsGrubweedandGrandpaareintheloungethough.I’lltakeyouthere.”

BlindGrandpasitsonanoldrockingchairinthecentreoftheroom,aknittedblanketonhislap.Hisdaughter,MrsGrubweed,sitsdemurelybesidehim,staringatthe

“Goodafternoon.IamDetectiveSergeantWhitefromScotlandYard.”

“Where’sWaxford?”saysGrandpa.

“He’sbrokenhisfoot.IfIcouldaskyousomequestions?”MrsGrubweedisstillstaringatthewall.“Mrs

Grubweed?”

“Oh,ignoreher,”Grandpareplies,andpointsathisbrainwithhisfinger.“Gonewiththefairies.”

“Excuseme?”

“Youwon’tgetanythingoutofher.She’salwaysbeenthisway.Neversaidawordfromthedayshewasborn.

Nevercriedasababy.”

Ilookathercarefully.Shestillavoidsmyeyes.“Well,isthereanythingyouwouldliketotellmeMr…”

“RichardApplecore.ThatismynamebutIamusuallyreferredtoasGrandpa.Ispendmostofmytimeinmyroomupstairsorinthegarden.Iamlookedafterby

mydaughterandSally.Iwasbroughtdownhereafterthemurder.Itellyou,thisvillageiscursed,butit’sneverboring.”

“DidyouhearMrHookeyeleavehisroomatanypointduringthenight?”

“Iheardhimgotobedaboutmidnight,becausemyclockchimedtwelve.Islept

soundlythroughthenight,soIhavenoideawhenhegotup.Ifyou’rewonderingifImightknowwhowouldwanthimdead,Ihavenoidea.Myson-in-lawreliedonhimforworkwiththeProfessor,soIwouldfinditstrangeifhehadkilledhim.MrHookeyewasaratherdislikeablefellow,buttochophisheadoffisaratherboldstatement.”

“Whatworkdidhedowithyourson-in-law?”

“Somethingtodowithcorpsesforthestudentsattheuniversity;topractisecuttingup.Peoplecanrequesttheirbodytobedonatedforresearchformedicaladvancement.Myson-in-lawhasalotofconnectionsthroughhispreviousworkasanundertaker.”

“Really.IbelieveProfessorHummingbirdisanexpertonanthropology,sowhyisheinvolved?”

“You’dbetteraskhim,”GrandpaApplecorereplies.

“CanyoutellmeanythingabouttheProfessor?”

“Verylittle.AndImaybeblind,butIamnotanidiot,

Inspector.Myson-in-lawisagreedybutstupidman.Ifyouarelookingtocastyournetforthekiller,don’twasteyourtimewiththetuna…goandtalktotheshark.”

“AndwhydoyouconsidertheProfessorinvolved?”

“Callitagutinstinct.”

“Iwouldverymuchliketo

interviewthechildren,perhapsseparately,consideringthefightyesterday.”

“Theyareallintheirrooms.”

PrunellaandEstellesharealargeroomonthesecondfloor,nexttotheirbrotherandparents.Thegirlssitplayingwiththeirdollsonthe

floor.Asandyhairedrockinghorsesitsinthecorneroftheroom.Bothgirlsarestoutandpossiblytwins.

“Youngladies,IamfromScotlandYardandIhavecometoaskyousomequestionsaboutMrHookeye.”

“Ishereallydead?”asksPrunella,excitedly.

“Yes,”Ireply.

“How?”

“Itappearssomeonecutoffhishead.”

Bothgirls’eyeslightup.“Uuurrggggghhhhhhhhh!”theysaytogether.

“Dideitherofyouseeorhearanythingstrangelastnight?”

PrunellashakesherheadandEstellespeaks.“Webothwenttobedatteno’clockandwentstraighttosleep.”

“Neitherofyouleftyourroomatanypointduringthenight?”

“No,sir,”saysEstelle.

“WhatdidyouthinkofMrHookeye?”

“Boring,”repliesPrunella.

“Yes,boring,”mimickedEstelle.

“That’sincrediblyhelpful,”Isay,wearily.AndIleavethemtoit.I’mnotgoingtogetanythingusefulfromthem.

IknockandenterCornelius’sroom.Heis

sittingonhisbed,carvingapieceofwoodwithalittleknife,shapingitintotheformofaman.

“HelloCornelius.Iam–”

“Iknowwhoyouare,”heinterruptsme,notlookingupfromhiscarving.

“Ineedto–”

“Idon’tknowwhokilled

MrHookeye.Idon’tknowanything.Idon’tcarethathe’sdead.”

“Ifyouknowanythingthatmightassistmyinvestigation,youneedtotellme.”

Heremainssilent,continuingtocarvethelittlewoodman.Istepclosertohim.Hestabsthelittledollinthehead.“LikeIsaid,

detective,Idon’tknow.”

Ishutthedoorandleavehimtohisvoodoo.

Ayoungboyapproachesmeinthehallway.Heissmallforhisage,withasmooth,roundfaceandnut-colouredhair.Heshakesmyhand.“Pedrock.Ageten.MrGrubweedismyUncle.”

“NicetomeetyouPedrock.MynameisDetectiveSergeantWhite.Isthereanythingyouknowthatcouldhelpwithourenquiries?”

“MrHookeyeandMrGrubweedwerearguinglastnightabouttheProfessor.IheardUnclesay‘Hewilldragusbothtohell’.MrHookeyethreatenedtohavemysistercommittedtoamadhouse.”

“Anythingelse,Pedrock?”

“Yes,inspector,”andPedrocklooksworried,“yes,thereissomething.Ikeephearingnoisesatnightcomingfrommysister’sbedroom.SheisonlysixandIhearsomethingtalkingtoheratnight.Iwentinherroom,butIfoundnothing,Iamworriedthat…”

“Iunderstand.AndIwilllookintoitforyou.”

“Thankyousomuch,sir.”

ConstableWalnutcomesupthestairs.“Thebodyhasbeenremovedforthephysician.Nosignofthemurderweaponsofar,sir.”

“Thankyou,Walnut.”IopenthedoortoBooBoo’s

room.Sheissittingonthefloor,playingwithalargeaxecoveredinblood.

“GoodGod,”Isayundermybreath.Iapproachhersoftly.“BooBoo,pleasegivemetheaxe.”Andshedoes,withoutanyproblem.IhandittoConstableWalnutwhosaysquietly,“Wellthatwasunexpected.”

Sheissmiling,thelittlething.Blackeyes,blackhair.Thereissomethingunusualaboutherthatremindsmeofaninsect.But,sheissixyearsold.Shedoesnothavethestrengthtowieldanaxe,letalonecutaheadoff.ShelooksupandmeandpointstoWalnutandlaughs.

“Funnyface!”

“Yes,hedoeshaveafunnyface,BooBoo.Iamapolicedetective.MynameisPercival.Canyoutellmewhereyougottheaxefrom?”

Sheshakesherhead.

“Didyoufindtheaxe?”

Sheshakesherhead.

“Didsomeonegiveyoutheaxe?”

Shedoesn’treply.

“BooBoo,whoistalkingtoyouatnight?”

“Anangel,”shesays,hereyesbrightanddarklikeliquidchocolate.

Icrouchnexttoher.“Whatdoestheangellooklike?”

Shetouchesmynosewithherfinger.“Likeyou,”she

“He’saman.Whatishisname?”

“MrAngelcakes,”andshesmilesabigsoppysmileandcuddlesme.

ImeetwithConstableWalnutintheherbgarden.

“Everythingalright,sir?”heenquires.

“Yes.IwantyoutoaskSallytomakearrangementsforustostayattheHighwaymanpublichouseinthevillagetonight.Andgethertosendthistelegram.”Ihandhimthenote.

DetectiveWaxford—

Canwemeet?Verystrangesituationhere.

DetectiveSergeantWhite

“Areyouarrestingthesixyear-old?”

“No.Someoneismanipulatingherandmakingafoolofus.”

IgobackintothehouseandinspecttheguestroomofIcarusHookeye.Theroomiscomfortable,ifsmall.Thebedunmadewithgentlemen’stoiletriesbythemirrorandwashbasin.Hiscoathangsbehindthedoor.Igothroughthepockets,onlyfindingsomematches.Nothingelse.ItisthenthatIexaminethepocketbookIfoundonhisbody.Alittleredbook,and

whatacuriousthingitis!Oneverypageisasketchofablackbutterfly.Overandover.Butterflyafterblackbutterfly.Theysoaracrossthepagesininkyshapes.Snapshuttheirwingsattheedges,glideoverwhitespaces.Isthissomesortofcode?Doesthishavesecretmeaning?

DetectiveSergeantWhiteandConstableWalnutinterviewthe

Professor

Wetrudgethroughtheundergrowthtowardsthe

medievalkeepoftheProfessorandarrivejustasthesunisbeginningtoset.IhaveborrowedalanternfromMrsTreacleforourreturnjourney.Thewoodsroundthisareaareespeciallysinister.Anowlhootsinthedistance.

“Anytheories,Walnut,onourkiller?”

“Nothingisspringingtomind,sir.”

Themoatedkeepmaterialisesinfrontofus.White-moon-colouredflowersfloatonthewaters.Wecrossthebridgeandwalkintothecourtyard,approachalittlesidedoor.Tomysurprise,itisopenandweenter.Thecorridorisbloodred:thewallpaperred,the

carpetred,theceilingred.Itislikesteppingthroughatunnelofblood.Insideanintestine.Reduponred.Red,theysay,isthecolourofmagic.Thecolourofdevils.

Thisisalabyrinthmaze.Acoilingpuzzleofcorridors,eachleadingtoaroomofred.Andalongthewallsareframedglasspictures,eachwithabutterflywithapin

throughitsheart.

Tostopyouflyingaway,younaughtything

Therearehundredsofthem,eachdifferent.Chocolatebrowns,fuzzypinks,lemoncurdyellows,peacockblues.Wekeepmoving:reduponredsurroundsus,enclosinguponus.Morebutterfliestrapped

inglass.

“Thisissomesortofmadness,”IsaytoConstableWalnut.

Finally,thecorridorcoils,spiralshaped,intoaroomatthecentre,theheartofthisdiabolicalmaze.HeresitsProfessorHummingbirdathisstudydesk,writinginhisjournal.Behindhimisan

enormousbutterfly,thewingspanoftwohumanhands.Itisebonyblackwithtworedshapedeyesonthewings.

“Youareadmiringmyprizepossession,”theProfessorremarks,andheraiseshishead.Hisvoiceissoothingandoddlymesmeric.Heisamaninhislatefifties,Iwouldhaveguessed;hesportsalongbeardandhas

deepambereyes.Hewearsstripedtrousersandpointyblueslippers.

“SheistherarestbutterflyintheworldandIhavetheonlyspecimen.She’sadazzler,isn’tshe?OriginatesfromMexico.Hernametranslatesas‘Angel-Eater’.Sheeatsotherbutterflies.”

“IamDetectiveSergeant

WhiteandthisisConstableWalnut.IbelieveMrGrubweedmaybehere?”

“Youjustmissedhim.Heleftratherupset.HewasveryclosetoIcarus.”

“You’reawareofthesituationthen?”

“Ofcourse.Myassociatehasbeendecapitated.”The

Professorsmiles.

“Doyouknowofanyonethatwouldwanttoharmhim?”

“Notatall.Hewasquiteanamusingfellowandcompetentdoctor.”

“Andcanyouaccountforyourwhereaboutslastnight?”

“Iwasheretheentire

evening,writingmyjournals.Ihavenoalibi.Ihaveonlyoneservant,myhousekeeper,whocomesinthemornings.Ipreferaslittlehumaninteractionaspossible.Icanonlyworkwithmybutterflieswithabsolutelynootherdistraction.”

“Whatsortofworkwashedoingforyou?”Istepcloser.

“Menialtasks.Paperpushing,administrativesilliness.”Heyawned.

“Procurementofbodypartsformedicalresearch?”Iadd.

“Oh,hewasn’tthatmacabre.Youseedevils,sergeant,whenthereareonlymen.”

“Perhaps,butsomething

bizarreishappening,”Istate.

WalnutpointstotheAngel-Eater.“Blimey!She’sstillalive!”TheAngel-Eaterisbeatingitswingsagainsttheglass.

TheProfessorstrokestheglass.“She’sexcitabletoday.Itwouldbeforthebestifyoubothleftusinpeacenow.”Andhepointsafingeratthe

Itakemypistoloutandpointitathishead.“You’recominginforquestioning.”

TheProfessorpoundshisfistsonhisdesk.Thewallsmove,ripplelikewater.

Wearetransportedinaflashofbluelighttothe

Highwaymanpub.

Thelocalsarestaringatus,theireyeballsonstalks.Iputmypistoldown.“Walnut,whatjusthappened?”

“Idon’tknow,sir,butIcouldmurderapint.”

Afterafewmomentsrecoveringfromtheshock,weeatmeatpiesandmash

andwashitdownwithplentyofale.

“Sowe’redealingwithasorcerer?”Walnutsighs.

“Itlooksthatway.Ishouldhaveknownwe’dgetsomethingpeculiar.HeisoneofLoveheart’sneighbours.”

“Well,we’vemetsomeoddballsbefore,sir.”

ThatnightIdreamIamintheGrubweedkitchenwithBooBoo,andshehasaknifeinherlittlehands.Onthetableisacake,yellowandpinksponge,andsheisslicingitandbloodisoozingoutanddrippingonthefloor.

“Angelfoodcake,”shegiggles,andIopenmy

WhenIwakeuptwothingsoccur.AtelegramarrivesbackfromDetectiveWaxford:

PERCIVAL

COMEBACKINTOLONDONANDMEET,38BIZWITSTREET,

NRBAKERSTREET.

HENRYWAXFORD

Walnuttapsmeontheshoulder.“MrGrubweedhasnotreturnedhome.He’sofficiallymissing.”

SundaySermon

Iholdmysister’shandasMrsTreacleescortsustochurch,Guardianthedogfollowing.Thechurchisabouthalffull.IrecognizeMrsCharmandthelandlord’s

sonandhisparents.MrsTreaclepointsoutMrPinhole,theapothecary,aweedylookingmannearthebackrow,andMrandMrsTufflehumpwhoownthebakery.Theairiscoolinsidethechurchandlittleblueflowershavebeenplacedroundthepews.MrWormholeascendsthepulpit,flamingeyed,andarespectfulsilenceensues.

Heshakeshisheadwearily.“Murder!”hecries,armsraised.“Bloodymurder!Thedevilishereinourvillage.Hewalksamongstus!Perhapshehopsamongstus;hemayevenLIMP!”

Avoicebehindmemumbles,“He’sbeenontherumagain.”

ReveredWormholeholdsa

stifffingeraloft.“FEARNOT,THELORDWILLSTOMPAMIGHTYFOOTONTHEVILLAIN.SQUASHHIMINTOTHEGROUND,MAKEHIMASPLAT!”

Thecongregationgasp,andIcanhearMrsCharmcommenttoMrsTufflehump,“He’sdefinitelyimproved.”

MrWormholecontinues,“PraytotheLordtorevealthismonster.ShowhisfacetousohLord!HelpthepolicemenfromLondonarrest,chargeandexecute!OhmercifulGod,makesurethisevilcreatureisfloggedrepeatedlyinthehellfires.Saveusfromfurtherdecapitation!”

Muchnoddingof

agreementfromtheheadsofthecongregation.IturnmyheadandIcanseeMrLoveheart,dressedinlemoncurdyellow,standingbythedoor.Hewagglesafingerformetocomeovertohim.Redheartsarealloverhiswaistcoat.IslipawayunnoticedwhileWormholebeginsprotestationsaboutbeingroastedtodeathbydevilswithforkedtongues

andlargecookingimplements.

MrLoveheartandIwalkoutintothegraveyardandthedazzlingsunshine.

“IthoughtIhadbetterwarnyou,”saysLoveheart.

“Ofwhat?”

“IthinkyouruncleisdeadandIbelievetheProfessor

hassomesinisterplanforyoursister.”

“WhatcanIdo?”Isay.

“You’retoolittle,Pedrock.Fearnot!IhavemanagedtoacquireabombandIamthinkingofblowinghimup,”laughsMrLoveheart.

Ireallydon’tknowhowtorespondtothatremark.

DetectiveWhiteandDetectiveWaxfordcomparenotes

IfindBizwitStreetaftersomeinitialconfusion.IhadtravelleddowntoLondonimmediatelyafterreceivingWaxford’stelegramandhaveleftConstableWalnuttotakestatementsfromthevillagerstoseeifhecanacquireany

furtherinformation.Iknockonnumber38andHenryWaxford,hobbling,opensthedoor.

“Comein,Percival.”Hisvoiceislikeroastingwoodonafire,spittingandcracking.

Wesitinaverycomfystudysurroundedbyhisbookcollectionandhehandsmeaglassofwhiskyandpropshis

footuponacushionandstaresatme.

“So,howisthecasedeveloping?”

“Professor’sphysicianfounddecapitatedinMrGrubweed’shouseandnowMrGrubweedismissing;theybothworkedfortheProfessor.Themurderweapon,anaxe,wasfoundin

thehandsofasixyear-oldcousin,BooBoo,whoclaimsamancalledMrAngelcakesisvisitingheratnight.”

“Thisisawickedbusiness,”growlsWaxford.Hesinksbackhiswhisky.“AndthatProfessorhaseverythingtodowithit.Haveyouinterviewedhimyet?Seenhisbutterflies?”

“Yes,yes,itwasbizarre.HishouseisamazeanditappearstheProfessordabblesintheoccult:hemanagedtoevictmyselfandWalnutfromhispropertyusing…”–Ipause–“somesortofblackmagic.”

Waxfordlooksalittleshocked.“Blackmagic?Moreliketrickery,Percival.They’reallnutsinthat

village.EspeciallythatbloodyMrLoveheart.”

“Loveheartcanbeextremelycooperative.Youjusthavetohumourhim.”

“I’mgladIdon’thavetogobackthere.”Waxfordsighs.“Itwouldhavedrivenmemad.”

“Ihavebeenreadingyour

journalsandtheyhavebeenmosthelpful.Isthereanythingyouleftoutwhichcouldaidmenow?”

Waxfordwiggleshisbandagedfoot.“ItriedtoresearchtheProfessoranditwasverydifficult.Hehastwofamilymembersalive.Awife,Lucy,whoisinamadhouse.HerfullnameisLucyDewdoll.Byall

accountsshedidn’tgomaduntilshemarriedhim.Andguesswhooneofthedoctorswaswhosignedthecertificatetocondemnher?”

“Hookeye?”

“Yes.Andshe’sthesixthwifehe’shad.”

“GoodGod,whathappenedtotherest?”

“Icouldn’tfindout.IwassureIwasbeingfollowedatthetime.Notascrapofproof.HisbrotherisIgnatiusHummingbird,whoholdsaseatintheHouseofLordsandhasinfluencewiththeprimeminister.I’mafraidProfessorHummingbirdisverywellprotected.”

“Whereishiswifenow?”

“Well,theyaredivorcedduetohermadnessandsheresidesintheBlue-FlowerInstitutionnearBlackheath.Butshemayhaveinformationforyouwhichmighthelp.SheistheonlyleadIcanthinkof.”

“Thankyou,Waxford.Tellme,whatdoyouthinkhe’supto,theProfessor?What’sreallygoingon?”

“Therewerealotofsuspicionsatthetime.ThemainlineofthinkingwasthatHookeyeandGrubweedwereprovidingbodiesforexperimentation.Thequestionwashowtheyweregettingthesebodies.ButIcan’tseethereasonfortheProfessortohaveanyinterestinsuchathing.He’sobsessedwithhisbutterfliesandhisresearchontheAztecs.No,in

myopinionthereissomethingelsegoingon.”

“IfoundalittlereddiaryinIcarusHookeye’scoatpocket.Insidewerenumerousdrawingsofbutterflies.”

“Whatmeaningcouldthathave,otherthanaconnectiontotheProfessor?”

“That’swhatIwondered,”

andIhelpmyselftoarefillofwhiskyandtopWaxfordup.

“WhykillIcarusandGrubweed?”

“Maybesomeoneispickingthemoff,”Isayinstinctively,andsuddenlyfeelquiteodd.

“Percival,areyoualright?”Waxfordleansforward.

“Yes.Ijusthadthestrangestfeeling.”

TheBlue-FlowerInstitute

Iam,Iadmit,alittledrunkafterseeingWaxford.Hehasamorerobustconstitutionforalcohol.Ibuysomestrongcoffeeandmakemywayto

thereceptionareaoftheBlue-FlowerInstitute,amiserable-lookingbuilding.Alargelybuiltwomanwithfiercelittleeyesexaminesmeatthefrontdesk.

“MynameisDetectiveSergeantWhiteandIneedtoseearesident.AwomannamedLucyDewdoll.Itisquiteurgentandinvolvesamurderinvestigation.”

IamescortedtoacellwhereLucyDewdollsitsatasmalltableinalonggreydress.Herhair,looseandfallingtoherwaist,isthecolourofdirtysand.Herfaceislikehername:doll-like,perfectskinandroundblueeyes.Sheturnstolookatme.

“Pleasegetmeoutofhere.”

“MissDewdoll,IunderstandthatyouweremarriedtoProfessorHummingbird.IamcurrentlyinvestigatingamurderandIneedtoknowwhateveryoucantellme,anythingthatmightgivemesomeinsightintohischaracter.”

“IfIdothis,canyougetmeoutofhere?Iamnotmad.Ihaveneverbeenmad.”

“Iwilldoeverythinginmypowertohelpyou.”

“Ifyouwantanypoweroverhim,detective,stealhisfavouritebutterfly.Itishisonlyweakness.”

“Mydearlady,whathappenedtoyou?”Iask,andthenIlisten.

“Iwaslivingwithmy

stepsisterinWhitstablewhenImethim.Theyearwas1886.Iwastwenty-fiveandourlifewaspeaceful,unremarkable,untilaletterarrivedfromasolicitorinLondoncalledMrEvening-Star,announcingthatIhadbeenleftafortunefrommyeccentricUncleLionel,whowasanexplorerinMexico.Ihadbecomehisheiress,ownerofamoatedcastleon

theoutskirtsofLondon,aswellasinheritinghisentirecollectionofartefactsfromhisexplorations.Well,InearlyfaintedonthecarpetIwassoshocked!Winniethankfullyretrievedtheemergencybrandyfromunderthecupboard.”Aslightsmiledancedacrossherfaceatthememory,andthenvanishedjustasquickly.“ThefollowingdayIreceiveda

visitor,afriendofmyUncleLionel,whowishedtoofferhiscondolences.HisnamewasProfessorGabrielHummingbird.Hewasawidowerinhisfiftiesandtherewassomethingunusualabouthim,somestrange,coolmischief.Thewayhelookedatme–asthoughhewerepeeringdownamicroscope,examiningmycells,wantingtorearrangethem.Wetalked

atlengthaboutmyuncle’sworkinMexicoandthenfinallyabouthisownresearch.TheyhadworkedtogetherforyearsteachingattheUniversityinLondon.MyunclehaddiedwhilecampingonanIncaburialsite,slippedandfelloffaravinewhiledrunkonchocolate-wine.Hisbodyhadbeenburiedoutthere,theservicesimple,butinaccordancewithmy

uncle’swishes,accordingtoProfessorHummingbird.

“TheProfessorinformedmethathewouldbestayinginWhitstableforafewweeksasaholidayandhopedweshouldmeetagain.Apartfromthefactthathewastoooldforme,therewassomethingelseabouthimthatmademeconcerned.Therewassomethingmechanical,

somethingcalculatingabouthim.Iwaspersuadedhedidnotdesireme;however,Iwasanheiressnow.Perhapsitwasmymoney,perhapssomethingelseIhadacquired,andyetdespiteallthesewarningsignalsIagreedtoseehimagain,andagain.ItwasalmostasifIcouldnotsaytheword‘No’tohim.Thewordjustwouldnotformonmylips.

“Wemetforteaandsandwichesandwalkedalongthebeach,pickingupcuriousshells.Itoldhimaboutmyquietbuthappylife,butthinkingaboutmyUncleLionel,IrealisedhowlittleIhadactuallylived.HowemptymybackgroundappearedincomparisonwiththeProfessor,whoregaledmewithtalesofhishuntingforrarebutterfliesinPeruand

gettinglostkneedeepinaswampwhilebeingchasedbylocaltribesmen.

“OnourthirdmeetingheproposedandIaccepted.IknewIhadmadeamistakewhenIsaidtheword‘yes’.IknewandyetIsaiditanywayanddidnotretract.”

ShesobbedandIputmyhandinhers,andaftersome

timesheregainedhercomposureandwipedhereyes,“Weweremarriedinasmallchurchbythesea.Ourhoneymoonwasspentatourmoatedcastleandthe…”–shepaused–“…theweddingnightwas…”

Shestoppedandlookedatme,“Itisonlythebutterfliesthatexcitehim.”

Shecontinued,“Hehadeverywallinthecastlepaintedredasthoughwewerewalkingintunnelsofbloodandoneverywallnothingbuthisbutterflies.Rowafterrowofthem.Andhisfavouritehehunginhisstudy.

“Oneeveningwereceivedtwoguestsfordinner:bothmedicaldoctors.Icarus

HookeyeandSebastianCrabmouth.Ishouldhaveknownwhathewasplanning.Thewinewasdrugged.IwastransportedtotheBlue-FlowerInstitutionfortheinsaneandhavebeenhereforovertwoyears.”

“Iamgoingtogetyououtofhere,”Isaid.

MrAngelcakesvisits

BooBoo

Hehascomeagaintoseeme.Thelovely,madMrAngelcakes.Heonlycomesatnight.Hecomeswhenpeoplearesleeping.

Tonighthestartstocarvesomethingintomyback.Ithurtsalot.Hesays:

Ssssshhhhhhh

BooBooDon’tbeafraid.Iamtheangelman.It’sonlyabutter

LadyBeetle’sgardenparty

NobodyknowswhereUncleGrubweedis,butIthinkMrLoveheartisright.He’sprobablydeadandhiscorpsewillturnupatsomepoint.

Grandpasayswestillhavetogototheparty.That’swhatUnclewouldhavewantedandwewillfinallygettomeethandsomeHoratio.Horatiotheprize,Horatiothefavourite.IalreadyknowIwon’tlikehim.Ialreadyknow.WhenIimaginehimIthinkofthered-blackjuicesofoverripetomatoes;squelchy,fatandbloated.There’ssomethingsquashed

anddamagedabouthim.

Wearealldressedupinourbestclothes.IhadtoborrowsomethingfromCorneliusandit’stoobig,soMrsTreaclehadtosewit.BooBoohasalittleblackdresswhichPrunellausedtowear,andMrsTreaclehasaddedaredribbontoherhair.BooBooandIaretoarrivealittlelaterthaneveryoneelse

aswewillbeattendingwithReverendPlum,whoislateashemissedhistrain.

WesitonthestepsofthehousewithGuardian,whosesoftpawsrestonmylap,nuzzlingmewithhisnose.BooBookeepsscratchingherback,saysititches.Thepolicemenaregoingtothepartytoo.Theystillhaven’tfoundoutwhokilledMr

Hookeye.

“BooBoo,”Ilookather,“whoisMrAngelcakes?”

Shestopsscratchingandlooksatherfeet.“Iamnotallowedtosay,”shereplies.

“Whynot?”Butshedoesn’tanswerandIheartheponyandtrapclatteringalongthepath,carryingReverend

Plum,whoiswavingatus.WegingerlystepaboardandGuardianliesbyBooBoo’sfeet,hiseyeballsstaringlovinglyupatherasthoughshe’sadeliciouschickenleg.

ReverendPlumasks,“Howhaveyoubeen,children?Hasanythingexcitinghappened?”

Iwastemptedforamomentnottoanswerhim.

“DoctorHookeyegothisheadcutoffinthekitchenandthepolicefromScotlandYardarehere,andtheyfoundBooBoowiththemurderweaponandUncleGrubweedhasgonemissing,presumedalsomurdered.Wearebothwell,thankyou.Howwasyourtrip?”

TheReverendPlumgoesintoafunnytranceforthe

restofthejourney.

Thegardenpartysitsbeneathanachinglyhotsun.Itlookstomelikeafriedeggsizzlinginapan.Agreatlongtablewithblackberry-colouredsheetsholdsplatesofwonderfulroastporksandwiches,plumandcreamcakes,jellies,overripepeachesandfatstrawberries,meatpiesandpickles.There

ischampagne,cider,pinkwineandapplejuicetodrink.

Thefeastishoveredoverbyheavybees,occasionallyflickedawaybyanexasperatedmanservant.LadyBeetleiswearingalong,palebluedressandshestandswithherson,alsoinpaleblue,inthecentreofthegardens.TheyarechattingtoagentlemanIhaven’tseen

before,amanwithstripytrousers.IcanseePrunellaandEstelleeatingjelly,sittingunderatreewiththeirmother,carefullywatchingHoratioasablackbirdwouldwatchaworm.Lookingforwardtoeatinghim.Twoprincessessquabblingoveraprince.

MrsCharm,wearingahugesunhatwithlavender

sprigs,issittingatatabletalkingwithMrLoveheart,whotodayiswearingbrightorange.Sobrightistheorangethatheisnearlyoutshiningthesun.Italmosthurtsmyeyestolookathim.Redheartsaredottedabouthiswaistcoatandalargesliceofcakesitsinhishands.MrWormhole,lurkingintheshadows,iseatingacreamcakeveryhappilyand

chattingtoDetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnut.

BooBooandIapproachMrsBeetleasReverendPlumhaswanderedoffinthedirectionofthepolicemen.

“Thankyouforinvitingustoyourparty,LadyBeetle,”Isay.

Shelooksatme,rather

bored.Theoldermannexttohersmiles.Hehasveryoddeyes.Theyareancientandfullofghosts.Itislikelookingintoadeadthing.

“Hello,”hesays,.“MynameisProfessorHummingbird,”andheshakesmyhand.

“Iamsorrythatyourfriendwasdecapitatedinour

kitchen,”Ireply,andMrsBeetlelooksmortified.

TheProfessorsmiles,“It’snotyourfault.Iamsuretheywillcatchtheculprit.”HeturnshisattentiontowardsBooBoo,whoistryingtoscratchherbackandisredeyed.“Areyoualright,littlegirl?”

“Mybackhurts,”shesays.

“Letmetakealookatit.”Sheturnsroundandheunbuttonsthebackofherdress.“Itmightbeabeesting,”hesays,andthenopenstheback.Hishandsstarttoshake.Onherbackisaninkyhugeblackbutterflywithredeyes.

“Howdidyougetthisonyourback?”Hecanbarelywithholdhisexcitement.

“MrAngelcakesdidit.”

TheProfessor,containinghisemotions,re-buttonsherdressandwalksofftowardsReverendPlum.BooBoorunsofftoplaywithGuardian.Whatishappeningtoher?WhatcanIdotostopit?

HoratioBeetlethenstepsforwardandshakesmyhand.

Theprinceinpalebluehasblackhairandeyeslikedarkwater.“YoumustbePedrock.I’vebeenawayinCambridgemostofthesummer.There’snothingtodomuchroundhereanyway.Boringlittleplace.”Heyawns.“Ithinkyourunclehadsomefantasytomarrymeoffeventuallytooneofhisfatdaughters.”AndhelaughsandInoticeabeautyspotbelowhisnose.It

occurstomethathe’smarked.Isupposeheisreallyveryhandsome,muchlikeaprinceinafairystory,butIwouldn’twantmysistertomarryhim.“Mymothertellsmeyouandyoursisterarepoorlittleorphans.Youlooklikepig-farmingpeasants!Oinkoink!Keepyourpiggyfingersoutofmycakes,”andhelaughs.Whatashitbagheis.

Ascotcheggsoarsthroughtheair.Smackshimintheface.“Ouch!”hescreams,followedbyawailof“MOTHER!”

IlookforthepersonresponsibleandseenaughtyMrLoveheartwavingatme,thesunlightbouncingoffhim,vyingforattention.Howbrightheis.Whatsortofmagicishe?

IstepawayfromHoratio,moveoutofhisorbit.

Ihelpmyselftothebuffet,pilingmyplatewithanassortmentuntilitwobblesabout.ConsiderthrowingitoverHoratio’shead.AndthenImovetowardsMrsCharmandMrLoveheartwhoareengagedinadeepconversationaboutapricotjam.

“Hello,”Isay.

“Pedrock,darling!”MrsCharmcries.“Comeandsitwithus.”AndsoIplopmyselfdown.

“WhatdoyouthinkofHoratio?”

“Vainandspoilt,”Ireplyquietly.

“Quiterighttoo.Iam

goingtowritehimintomynovel.Perhapshavehimdisembowelled.Don’tyouthinkMrLoveheartlooksveryfetchingtoday?”

“Willyouwritehimintoyournovelaswell?”

“Ofcourse,he’ssomethingwickedandsomethingwonderful.”

“Helloagain,”Loveheartwaggleswhatappearstobeagherkinatmeandthenpopsitintohismouth.

“MrLoveheart,”theProfessorsays,standingbehindhim.“MrLoveheart,Idon’tthinkwe’vebeenintroduced.ButIhaveheardsomuchaboutyou.”

“Likewise,”replies

Loveheart.Theystareatoneanother,MrLoveheartremainingseated.

TheProfessorthenglancesovertome.“Pedrock,IhavespokentoReverendPlumregardingthesadrecenteventsandwebothagreethatitwouldbeinBooBoo’sbestinterestsifshecametolivewithme.”

Iamhorrified.

“Woulditreally?”repliesMrLoveheart,darkly.

“Isitwisetoseparateabrotherandsister?”criesMrsCharm.“Surelythatisnotforthebest.”

“PedrockcanseeBooBoowheneverhewishesandReverendPlumistheirlegal

guardianuntilMrGrubweedreappears.Thedecisionismade,I’mafraid.”

IamcryingandIcan’thelpit.MrsCharmputsherarmaroundme.

“Thereisnoneedtobeupset,Pedrock.”TheProfessor’svoiceissmoothlikevelvet.

“Thereiseveryreason,”andLoveheartstandsuptofacehim.

“Dowehaveaproblem,MrLoveheart?”

“Notifyou’redead.”

TheProfessormomentarilyloseshiscomposureandthen,quicklyregainingit,hesays,“Ireallyamquite

disappointedinyou,Ithoughtyouofallpeoplewouldunderstand.”Andheturnstoleave,walkingintotheshade,thedarknessobscuringhisfeatures.

“Don’tyouworry,”saysMrsCharm,gently.“MrLoveheartwillsortthismessout.”

MrLoveheartyawnslazily,

hisfeetrestingonthetable,andwaggleshisswordinthedirectionoftheProfessor,“Disembowelledperhaps?Mmmmm…”

IspendtheremainderofthepartycryingintoMrsCharm’slap.BooBoowandersoverandputsherhandonmycheek.“Pedrock,

pleasecanyoutakecareofGuardian?TheProfessorwon’tletmetakehim.”

Inodmyheadsadlyandshecuddlesmeandthenleaves,handinhandwiththeProfessor,alittlegirlandamonster.

MrsCharmismuttering,“He’savillain.”

ThatnightinbedIwaittohearwhisperinginBooBoo’sroom,butnothingcomes.Guardiannowsleepsinmyroomandhowlsmostofthenightinsadness.IclosemyeyesandmakeawishthatMrLoveheartwillkilltheProfessor.IwishandwishandwishandwhenIopenmyeyesthereisaboysittingontheendofmybedwitheyesofblackglitter.

“Whoareyou?”Isay,rubbingthesleepfrommyeyes.

“Death.”Hisvoiceisassoftasmothwings.

“Whatdoyouwantwithme?”

“Yoursisterwillbeabletotakecareofherself.Youwillseeheragain.Bepatient.Be

verypatient.”

“He’sgoingtohurther,Iknowit,”Icry.

“Andsomeoneisgoingtohurthim.”AndtheboysmilesanditisthemostterrifyingsmileIhaveeverseen.“Nowgobacktosleep,Pedrock,andinthemorningyouwillfeelbetter.Gosailingonthelake.Startto

liveyourlife.Stopworryingaboutyoursister.LettheFatesdealwiththeProfessor.”

“Whatwillhappentohim?”

Theboypullsaloosethreadfromhissleeveandexaminesit,droppingitcasuallyontothefloor.“Atasteofhisownparticular

medicine.”

LucyDewdollescapes

Iamsittinginmycell,staringataspideronthewall,itswebhalfdone,likeapieceoflace,incomplete.There’satappingatthebarredwindow.Ipeerout.Amanon

aladderwithahacksaw.

“Goodmorning,MissDewdoll.MynameisMrLoveheartandI’mheretorescueyou.”

Attempttostealthebutterfly,rescueBooBooandblowupthe

Professor

It’stwoo’clockinthe

morningandConstableWalnutandmyselfareabouttobreakintotheProfessor’shouse.We’rehidinginabushnearthemoat.

“I’vebroughtmyluckyferretleg,sir,”saidWalnut,andhewhippedoutadisgusting,deformedthingfromhispocketandhelditundermynose

“MyGod,whathappenedtothatunfortunatecreature!?”

ThereisarummagingfromthebushesandMrLoveheartappearswithapistolandwhatappearstobeabomb.

“Lovelyevening,”hesays.

“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”I’mconfounded.

“I’mheretorescueBoo

Booandblowthevillainup.Andyou?”

“We’reheretostealhisfavouritebutterfly.Canweatleastaccomplishthatbeforeyoublowthebuildingup?”

“I’mgettingconfused,”saysWalnut,stillgrippingtheferretleg,“Ifhe’sblowingtheProfessorup,thenwedon’tneedtostealthe

butterfly,dowe?”

“Whydon’tweallgointogether.Makeitagroupeffort,”saysLoveheart,glancingwithsuspicionattheobjectinWalnut’shand,

Walnutbreaksthesidewindowusingarockandweclimbthroughintooneofthehallwaysandsneakalongthepassageway,thebutterflies

aboveourheads,rowuponrowlikeancestralportraits.Themoonisouronlylight.Walnutoccasionallybumpsintome.

“Whataslumhelivesin,”Loveheartremarks.“Hehasnounderstandingofdécor.”

“WeneedtogetBooBoofirst,”Isay,andweascendasmallspiralstaircaseleading

totheupperfloorwheretherearesixdoorsandyetmorebutterflies.Thefirstroomisanemptybedroomusedtostorethekillingjarsandpoisonforthebutterflies.Walnutopensthesecondroom,whichcreakssoftlylikeahauntedhouse.Theroomisemptyexceptforthewallswheresevenphotographsinframessit,eachonewithapictureofa

woman.Eachwomanwearingaweddingdress.Whitelace,whitesmiles,whiteghosts.IrecognizeLucyDewdollimmediately:smileshy,awkward,ill-fittingdress,alizardcreamfrillroundherneck,ruffled,suffocating.

Itisthepicturethatisnexttoherthatworriesmemore.ItisBooBoo.Sheissitting

onachairinthephotograph,herlittlelegsdangling.Hershoewonky,hereyesglazedoverasthoughlostdeepinspace.

Loveheartglancesovermyshoulder.“Bridenumberseven?”

Ifeelsicktomystomach.Weleavethatroomandproceedtothethird.Walnut

tripsoverthecarpet,Loveheartcommenting,“IfeelsecureintheknowledgethatIamworkingwithprofessionals.”

Thethirdroomisanemptynurserywithbutterflywallpaper.Thefourthroomisfilledwithshelveswithhundredsofjars.Loveheartpicksoneupandexaminesitcuriously.

“What’sinsidethem?”Iwhisper.

“Deadbutterflies,”hereplies.

“Ihavethisbadfeeling,sir,”saysConstableWalnut.

“Keepittoyourself,Walnut.”

ItisLoveheartwhoopensthefifthdoor,whichrevealsa

massivebedroomwheretheProfessorliesasleeponahugeblackfourposterbed.Hisfavouritebutterflyhangsabovehishead,asblackasspace.Soft-footedlyLoveheartcreepsroundthebedandtakesthebutterflyoffthewallwhiletheProfessorsnores.

IgostraightintothelastroomandfindBooBoo.I

pickherupinmyarmsandcarryherdownthecorridor.WalnutisholdingthebutterflyandMrLoveheartisbusyplacingthebombundertheProfessor’sbed.

Loveheartcomesrunningout.“Quickly!”hecries,andweallrundownthestairsandtowardsthewindow.ImanagetopushBooBoooutthroughthewindowandthen

turntoseeProfessorHummingbirdandhe’sopeninghismouthandbutterfliesareflyingout,zoomingtowardsus.

ThesixwivesofProfessor

Hummingbird

1.Elizabeth:poisonedwitharsenic

2.Rowena:pusheddownthestairs

3.Guinevere:buriedalive

4.Pandora:committedtoanasylum

5.Lottie:strangled

6.Lucy:committedtoanasylumandthenescaped

DetectiveWaxfordreturnstoDarkwound

Ihatethisbloodyvillage.MyfoothasnothealedproperlyandI’mlimpingabout.Themorphinetakesthepainawayatleast.I’monaponyand

trapheadingfortheProfessor’shome.DetectiveWhite,ConstableWalnutandMrLovehearthavebeenmissingforthelastweek.IampreparedforanyeventualityasthispartofEnglandisfullofmadpeople.Theforestsaresinister,dense,stuffedwithstrangeplantlife.Iwasreallyhopingnevertocomebacktothisbackwatervillagewithits

abnormallyhighcriminalactivity.

Ihadbeenconsideringanearlyretirementfromtheforce:anicelittlecottageandanoverweightcatforcompany.

Whereareyou,DetectiveWhite?

Wecrossthebridgeand

enterthecourtyardtotheHummingbirdmoatedcastle,andthere’salittlegirldrawingwithapieceofchalkonthestoneslabs.

“Miss,”Isay.

SheignoresmeandsoIstepcloser.Iseeshe’sdrawingbutterflies,hundredsofthem.

“Miss,”Irepeat.

Shelooksup.

“Whoareyou?”Isay.

“MynameisBooBoo.TheProfessoradoptedme.”

“Oh,hashenow.IamDetectiveWaxfordandIamlookingforDetectiveWhite,ConstableWalnutandMrLoveheart,whoareall

currentlymissing.Haveyouseenthem?”

“Yes.TheytriedtorescuemeandblowtheProfessorup.”

“BLOODYHELL.Wherearethey?”

Shedoesn’treply.

“WhereistheProfessor,BooBoo?”

Shepointstowardsthedoor.

Idrawmygunoutandenterthehouse;thatcreepycorridorofredandbloodybutterflies.Imovealongtheredcarpets.Allthoseinsects,allthosesilverpins.

“Whereareyou,Professor?”Ishout.

Imovefurtherinsidethemaze.AndIhear,whatisthatnoise?Atapping,afluttering,thenIfinallysee.OhGod.Thebutterflies,allthebutterfliesaremoving.Theyarealive!

Andhesuddenlyappearsfromhisstudysmiling,“HowcanIhelpyou,DetectiveWaxford?”

“Wherearethey?”Ipointthegunathishead

“Who?”hesayssoftly.

“YOUKNOWWHO.WHEREARETHEYYOUFUCKINGLUNATIC?!”

“Calmdown,Detective.”

“ProfessorHummingbird.Iamtakingyouinforquestioning.”

“Oh,you’resodramatic,”hesighs

“THISISFROMTHEMANWHOSEHOMELOOKSLIKETHELAIROFAVILEMURDERER.”

“TutTut,don’tgetyourselfintoatizz-woz.”

“Iamveryhappytoblowyourdementedbrainoutof

yourskullrighthereanddumpyouinthemoat,butIneedtoknowwhatyou’vedonewiththem.”

Heshrugshisshoulders

“Aretheydead?”

Hedoesn’tanswer.

“ARETHEYDEAD?”Iscreaminhisear.

Hestickshistongueout.Atinygreenbutterflyzoomsoutofhismouthintotheendlessred.

Infuriated,ImarchhimatgunpointtotheponyandtrapwhereBooBooisdrawingagiantbutterfly.

“BooBoo,comewithme,”Isay,andliftherontoit.TheProfessorwavesgoodbyeto

hisbutterflies,“Toodleoooooooo.”

ProfessorHummingbird

questionedatScotlandYard

TheProfessor’slawyer,CedricEvening-Star,arrives

toattendthequestioning

“I’msosorry,Cedric,”Hummingbird’svoiceisplayful,“Ireallydon’tunderstandhowthishashappened.I’mnotsurewhatDetectiveWaxfordthinksI’vedonebutthisisridiculous.”

“Shutup,Hummingbird.Youradopteddaughtertold

usthatDetectiveWhite,ConstableWalnutandMrLoveheartwereinyourhouselastSundayearlymorningtorescueher.Thatwasthelasttimeanyofthemwereseen.”

“Youmeankidnap,”heretorts.

“Explaintomewhathappened.”

“Iwasawokensometimeaftertwointhemorningbyfootstepsandvoices.InoticedwhenIgotupthatmyprizebutterflyhadbeenremovedfromthewall.IwentdownstairsandcaughtsightofDetectiveWhitewithBooBooinhisarms,pushingherthroughawindow;ConstableWalnutwithmybutterflyinhishandsandMrLovehearttellingeveryoneto

getoutquicklybecausehe’dplacedabombundermybed.”

CedricEvening-Staradded,“So,kidnapping,theftandattemptedmurder.”

“Andwhathappenednext?”

“Thebombwentoffandblewupmybedroomandthe

entireroofofthekeep.”

“And?”

“Well,therewasalotofdustintheairanddebrisfallingaboutandIwasconfusedanddizzy.”

“WhereisDetectiveWhite?”

“Idon’tknowwhereanyofthemare.Theymusthave

escaped.”

“WhyisBooBoostillwithyouiftheyescaped?”

“Shecamebacktome.Sheobviouslydidn’tfeelsafewiththem.”

“Doyouhavethebutterfly?”

Hepausesforamoment.“Yes,ConstableWalnutmust

havedroppedit.Iwaslucky.Itispriceless.”

“Whattotalshite,”Isay.

“Ibegyourpardon,”CedricEvening-Stargasps.

“It’sratherconvenientthatBooBooandyourbutterflyarereturnedtoyouandthreemenmissing.Whatdidyoudotothem?”

“Searchmyhouseifyoumust,youwon’tfindthem.”

“Notwithoutawarrant,”addsMrEvening-Star.“Thisharassmentofmyclientwillstopnow.”

IleavetheroomtospeaktoBooBoo.Sheissittinginmyoffice,waitingforme,drawingbutterfliesonmydesk.

“BooBoo,tellmethetruth.Whathappenedthatnight?”

Sheputherpieceofchalkdownandlooksupatme.“DetectiveWhitecarriedmeoutofbedandputmethroughawindowandtoldmetorun.Thenthebombwentoff.Iwaitedforthemtocomeout.Butnoneofthemdid.IrantothevillagetoseeMrsCharmandshemademe

hotchocolate.LatertheProfessorcametotakemebacktohiscastle.”

“Doyouthinktheyaredead?”

“No.Heturnedthemintobutterflies.”

ZedockhasteawithQueenVictoria

Iamescortedbyaratherfrail-lookingservantgrippingapinkfrilledparasolintothegardensoftheQueen.Hergardensarefullofredroses.

Fatheapsoffleshypetals.OPENFORME.OPENFORME.Showmeyourinsides

Sheissurroundedbyherroses.Redwithinred.Youwanttounderstandaboutpower?Youwanttoknowwhatitis?Lookather.

COLLOSAL

Redhornsfivefoothighsproutfromherhead,curlintopoints.Shewearsadressofdazzlingred,andstaresatmewiththeintensityofaflesheatinginsect,whileanIndianservantfansherwithblackostrichfeathers.Aselectionofstrawberrytartsandagreenpotofteawaitforme.

“Ah,Zedock,”shesmiles

andcurlsafinger,drawingmecloser.SheisfromUnderneath.Sheistheverycoreofit.SheistheonlythingIhaveeverfeared.

ItakeoffmyhatandseatmyselfnexttotheQueenofEngland,

TheQueenofHell

Ikissherhand.Shepulls

meclosetoherlips.Thestrengthofher,themusclenearlybreaksmybonesintodust.

“Iamyourhumbleservant,YourMajesty”

“YESYOUARE,mydarling.”

Icanseeinsidehermouth.Therowsandrowsofteeth.

HowIworshipher,howIloveher.YouaretheMasterofmyheart.Magnificent,magnificent.EATEROFWORLDS.

SUPERCANNIBALSUPERCANNIBAL

AllhailQUEENVICTORIA!

Shekissesmylips.Ifeelplanetscollide,explodeintopieces.Lavahot.Whenshereleasesme,sheknowsallmysecrets,shehastastedallmythoughts,mydreams,mywishes.

Shepoursthetea,andsmiles.Ohthouwondrouscrocodile!MANEATER.Feelthechomp,thecrunchofbones.Liquidizeinher

stomach:meltintohermiddle

“YouaretheonlywomanIhaveanyrespectfor,”Isaydizzyfromherkiss,andIsipmytea,whichhasacuriousaftertasteofmeteorite.

“Allhumansaresausages,”shesighsandglancesfurtivelyattheservantwhoselegsaretremblingandplopsastrawberrytartonaplateand

passesittome.

Ithankher,biteintoit.Sliceitinhalfwithteeth.

“WhyareyousoworriedaboutlittleMrLoveheart,dearest?He’samadthing,nomatchforyou,mydarling.”

“HeIRKSme,”Ireply

“YouareMYprimeminister.Youaremy

commander.Youaremychampion.FLATTENHIM,EATHIMUP,”andshestaresintome,dragsmeunder.HerredeyesarecorridorsintoHell:thecarpetsspongywithblood.

“Ofcourse,myQueen.”

“Goodboy.MrLoveheartisedible.WhatdomadthingstasteofIwonder?Perhapshe

issweet,”andshetakesanothertartandpopsitbetweenherteeth.“You’vealwaysbeensocompetitiveZedock,”andIknow,ifshewishedit,shecouldsplatmelikeabug.

Shecontinues,“Butremember:Iamthetopofthefoodchain,”andsheraisesherfingertoherservant,“Cometome.”Hervoiceis

thedarkest,mostpowerfulhypnotism.Icanfeelthepressure;ohwondrousQueen.Sheisthehorrorfairytale.Thegardenshuddersunderher,leylinesform,fruitexplodesinthetrees.

TheservantputsdownthefanrathershakilyandwalkstowardshisQueen.

Hellishungry.

Hergardensarefullofredroses.Hergardensarefullofblood.Seethembloom,seethemburstopen!Oooze.Seeptheirjuicesontothelawn;

Lickapetalandyouwilltasteyourself.

PartTwo

BooBooGrowsUp

BOOBOOANDMR

ANGELCAKES

ThefirsttimehevisitedmeIwassixanditwasmyfirstnightinUncleGrubweed’s

house.PedrockhadkissedmegoodnightandIwasalone.Aloneinthestickyblackness,wagglingmyfeetovertheendofthebed,examiningthespacebetweenmytoes.Ihadalwayswantedredshoes.IrememberSisterHarrietattheconvent,whosmeltoffloorpolish,toldmethatwitcheswearredshoes.IthinkSisterHarrietisprobablydeadnow.

MrAngelcakeswaswearinganotherman’sskinwhenheappeared.Ithoughthewasanangel,hiseyesweresobright,likefirecrackers.

Ididn’tlikethewayhewaslookingatme.

Hemadebitemarksonmyarms,saidItastedlikeice-cream.

“Doangelseatice-cream?”Isaid.

“Allthetime,”hereplied.“Nowdon’tbeafraid,BooBoo.MynameisMrAngelcakesandIamheretoteachyou.”

“Teachmewhat?”

“Tokill.”

Icuddledmyfrogpuppet.Isqueezedhimclosetomyheart.

“Iamgoingtomakeyouverystrong,BooBoo.Iamgoingtomakeyouintoaweapon.”

“Idon’tunderstand,”Iwhispered.

“TonightIamgoingto

tellyouastory,”andhetouchedmyheadwithhisfinger,theskinlooseandyellowish.Ilayonthebedandclosedmyeyesandlistenedtothespider-wordsoozingfromhismouth.Hairy,blacklittlewords.Ticklingmewiththeirfangs.

OnceUponaTimetherewasayoungmancalledMrAngelcakesandhehadone

thinghelovedmostintheworld:hispetbutterflywhichwasblackandred.

ButaverybadmancalledHummingbirdstolehisbutterflyandlockedMrAngelcakesinatomb.MrAngelcakesstarvedtodeath.Andthensomethingrathernastytooktheskinoffhimandworeit.Thisnastythinglikedtoeathumanskins

becausetheymadehimbigandstrong.ThenastythinglikedthenameMrAngelcakesanddecidedtokeepit.

So,thenewMrAngelcakes,decidinghewantedthebutterflyHummingbirdhadstolen,followedhimbacktoEnglandandwatchedhim.Thebutterflywasvery

special,itprotectedHummingbirdfromanyharmandMrAngelcakescouldn’tgetcloseenoughtostealit.ThebutterflywasbelievedtobethesoulofanAztecwarrior,thegreatestwarrioroftheEmpire.Shehadneverbeendefeatedinbattle.Forallbutterfliesarewarriorsouls.

Andso,MrAngelcakeswaitedandwatchedHummingbirdformanyyears.Hummingbirdlikedtocollectbutterfliesandtoincreasehiscollectionhemarriedwomentoinherittheirbutterflycollectionsandthenkilledthemorstuffedtheminmadhouses.

OnedayMrAngelcakesfoundalittlegirlwhocould

helphimandhernamewasBooBoo.Hedecidedhewouldmakeherintoawarrior.AndwhenshewasoldenoughshewouldstealthebutterflyandkillHummingbird

SuddenlyPedrockcameintotheroom.MrAngelcakesdisappeared,poppedlikeaballoon.Afizzle-whiffofice-creamscenthungintheair.

Sweet-stale.

IwassofrightenedIdidnotknowwhattosay,soIsaidnothing.IfanAngelhadbeenspeakingtome,hemusthavebeentellingmethetruth,andsoIshutmymouth.

BeforeIfellasleepIcountedthewobblystarsinthesky.Icountedthemuntilmyeyelidsshutlikeabook.

AndIdreamtofskin,rollsandrollsofweirdfabric.Andtherewereangelssewinghumanskincostumes.Blackthreadsloopedthroughsilver-sharpneedles.Soggybitswerediscarded,slungaside.Scrapsfortheangel-dogs.Theychatteredamongstthemselvesandtheirlanguagewasstrange:squawksandlowmurmurs.Squealingandtongueclicking.Isthiswhat

angelsreallysoundlike?Amishmashofothersounds.Stolenperhaps.Aroundmyneckwasamagnifyingglassonablackchain.Anecklace.Iheldituptomyeyesandpeeredthroughthepeephole.Icouldseethemforwhattheyreallywere.

Rottingthings,fallingapartintime.Leatherybubblingskin,greenpoppingeyeballs.

Iputthemagnifyingglassdownandhunchedoverandvomitedbymyfeet.

ThenexteveningPrunellakickedGuardianandIslammedherheadintothetrifledishandfounditsurprisinglyeasy.Icouldhavekilledher.

MrAngelcakescameagainthatverysamenightandhebroughtmeanaxe.

“IwantyoutochopMrIcarusHookeye’sheadoff.”

“Why?”

“Itisatest.AndifyourefuseIwillskinyourbrother.”

Ididwhathesaidwithout

question.Icreptdownintothekitchen.IcouldseeMrHookeyelookingoutofthewindow.Ijumpedupontothetableandrantowardshim,swingingtheaxe.Heturnedtowardsme,alookofsurpriseonhisface,andIslicedhisheadoffaseasilyasslicingapieceofcake.Itbouncedonthefloor.

MrAngelcakeswasvery

happywithme.Helickedmyarm.

TheremainingdaysattheGrubweedhousepassedlikeadaydream.IplayedinthegardenwithGuardianandpickedblackberriesandwildflowersinthewoods.Iimaginedtherewereghostswanderingaboutsulking,and

Iwavedatthem.Proddedthemwithsticks,chasedthemwithbutterflynets.

MrAngelcakestoldmethatProfessorHummingbirdhadkilledmyUncleGrubweed,turnedhimintoabutterflyandsquashedhimbetweenhisfingers.MrAngelcakescouldseethingsotherpeoplecouldnot.Heknewsecretthings.

Thebutterflyhecarvedintomybackhurt,buthesaidtheProfessorwouldwantmeifhesawit.SoIstoppedcomplaining.Ishutmystupidmouth.

IdreamtthatIwasablackbutterfly.Monstrous.Landingonpoppyheads,devouringtheirjuices.Ipulsatedandswirl-dancedlikealittledemon,redeyedandhungry.

Steppingintospace,Ihoveredoverthestrangelittleearth:mybodyahotengine.Agreatemptinessexpandedwithinme.

Iamanimplodingstar.

IlickedeverythingItouched.Wetkisses,myspithoneybeesweet.Mylipsrazorsharp.

IdreamthatIamablackbutterflyandmynamehasbeenerased.

MrAngelcakes’planworkedandtheProfessorwantedtoadoptme.Hetookmetohiscastleinthewoodstogrowup.Theforestisdeepandfullofgianttoadstoolsandgoblinlaughter.Rootsofthetrees

arelikemuscles,swellingandachingunderthesoil.Milk-whiteflowersandstingynettlesgrowinhandfulsroundthepaths.Dark,secretandhappymossspreadsinmoistplaces.Ifpeoplegetlostinthesewoodstheyturnintoaplant.Fleshbecomesvegetation.

ThatnightIatejamtartsforpuddingwiththe

Professor.Iwashisadopteddaughter.Iwashisspecialgirl.IknewIwouldmissGuardian,butPedrockwouldlookafterhim.MybedroomwasbiggerthanmyoldoneandIhadabigredbed,alookingglassandaboxfulloftoyknightsonhorses.Myfavouritewastheblackknight,whowasthebiggest.Ilikedthecolourblackbecauseitisnotacolour,itis

likeaholeinspace.Imadehimkillalltheotherknights,hackthemdown.MrAngelcakesplayedwithme;hewasverypleasedwithme.

TheProfessortookaphotographofmesittingonachair.Hetoldmetobeverystill,asthoughIwasdead.HesaidIwasunusual.Heisanexpertinunusualcreatures.

Apuffofsmoke!Andthephotographwasdone.Iwascaughtlikeafairyinajamjar.

Iexploredmynewhome.Foundallthemagicrooms.Ifoundtheroomwiththephotographsofhisprincesses.TherearesixandIamnumberseven.Ilookedatalltheirfaces.Notoneofthemwasprettyandyetin

fairytalesisn’ttheprincesssupposedtobebeautiful?Aren’ttheysupposedtobedelicate,beautifulthings?Wearehisbutterflygirls.Sevenofusstuckonthewall,trappedbeneathglass.

Caught

LastnightDetectiveWhitetriedtorescueme.MaybeDetectiveWhiteisaprince?Hestuffedmethroughawindowandtoldmetorun.MrLoveheartblewuppartoftheProfessor’shouse.MrAngelcakesthoughtthatwas

reallyfunny.MrAngelcakessayshereallylikesMrLoveheart,hesaysheisaWildCard.IaskwhataWildCardisandMrAngelcakessays,“Unpredictable,anythingcouldhappen.”MrLovehearthasblackeyeslikeaninsectbutheisn’tone.

He’sglittery,sparkling,candlesonabirthdaycake.He’sonlyforspecial

occasions.

DetectiveWhite,MrLoveheartandConstableWalnuthavealldisappeared.MrAngelcakessaystheyareonthewallinaframe.Theyhavebecomebutterflies.Iamsorryforit.

ItisaweeklaterandMr

Angelcakeshasgivenmesomechalkandtellsmetodrawbutterfliesinthecourtyard,asmanyaspossiblebecausetheProfessorwilllikeitverymuch.AndsoIdo,Ibeginmywonkybutterflydrawings,somewithenormousleaf-likewings;somesquintandlimplooking;somesoaringlikedragons,heavyandhell-

raisers.Ihearaclippety-clopandaponyandtraparriveandoutstepsamancalledDetectiveWaxford.HelooksveryangryandheshoutsattheProfessorandtakesusbothtoLondon.Isitinhisofficeanddrawbutterfliesonhisdeskwiththechalk.HeasksmequestionsandItellhimwhatIknow.HethinksIammad.

TheProfessor’slawyer,MrEvening-Star,saysthatwearebothfreetogoandthatDetectiveWaxfordhasnoevidence.MrEvening-Starhasafacelikeaneel:greyishskinstretchedoverhisskull.

WereturnhomeandIamsotiredIfellasleeponthetrainandtheProfessorhastocarrymetobed.

ForthenexttenyearsIgrowupinthehomeoftheProfessor,themoatedcastleintheforest.AmIinafairytale?AllthedressesIhaveareblack.Itistheonlycolourhewantsmetowearandyetitisnotacolour.Iamnotallowedtoseeanyone.ImustremaininthecastlebutIamallowedtowanderinto

thewoods,aslongasIdon’tstraytoofar.SometimesIthinkIcanhearGuardianhowling,butIknowheiswelllovedandverywellfedandsoIamnotsad.Pedrockwillcuddlehimallthetime.IimagineIamastrangequeenunderaterriblecurse.IimagineIamabutterflytrappedunderglass.IimagineIamtheProfessor’swife.

DuringthedaysIwanderintothewoodsandplaygamesinmyhead,pickflowers,chaseghostsandfightwithawoodenswordtheProfessorgaveme.Ihackawayatthetrees.Icleavegreatchunksoutofthem.IamtryingtodisguisehowstrongIambecoming.

AtnightMrAngelcakesblindfoldsme.HesaysImust

learntobeabletofightwithoutseeing.ImustpretendIamblind.Ican’tdoitatfirst.Istumblearound,smackmyheadonthewall,stubmytoe.Andthenhetellsmetofocus,tothinkabouttheProfessor’sfavouritebutterfly.Iseeitinsidemyhead,alltheblackandred,thehugewingsandthentheslow,slowbeatingofwings.Ilookintotheeyesonthe

wings,theyseeall.Timeisslowingdown.Icanseeeverythingwithoutopeningmyeyes.

NowIfightinthewoodswithmyblindfoldon.ICHOPCHOPCHOP.

ICHOPCHOPCHOPtheair.

Ithinkaboutthebutterfly.

Itisswimminginmyhead.Itislightingfast.CHOPCHOPCHOP.

Idismemberspace.

Ineedsomethingbettertopracticeon.

Ineedarealweapon.

Ihaveturnedeightyearsold.

TheProfessorgivesmeapresent.Itisablackheartpendant.Heputsitonmyneck.Hesays,“NevertakeitoffBooBoo,”andsoIobeyhim.Iwonderwhatcolourmyheartis?Iwonderif,ittooisblack.Itouchthespaceinmychestandfeelforabeat.

THUDTHUDTHUD

Howfastdoesabutterflyheartbeat?

Wearehavingaguestfordinnertonight.HisnameisSebastianCrabmouth.HeisamedicaldoctorandtheProfessorhasknownhimformanyyears.MrAngelcakeswouldlikemetokillhimoverdinner.Thethreeofus

sitroundthedinnertable.Tonightweareeatingroastduckwithplumsandbutteredpotatoes.ForpuddingthereisabirthdaycaketheProfessorboughtinaLondoncakeshop.Itisredwithvanillaspongeandacreamfilling.SebastianCrabmouthisalittlemanwithdarkhairandspectacles,andaroundsquashyface.IlookatmyknifeandforkandIthink

aboutmurder.IknowMrAngelcakeswillwanttobeamused.

“Happybirthday,BooBoo.TheProfessortellsmeyouareeighttoday,”saysMrCrabmouth.

“Doyoucollectbutterfliestoo?”Iask.

“No,IamtheProfessor’s

physicianandIalsorunapracticeinLondon.”

Howlong,Iwonder,doIhavetowaitbeforeIcankillhim?

TheProfessorturnstoMrCrabmouth.“Sebastian,IwasthinkingofinvitingtheexplorerOberonLionheartoverfordinneroneevening.Ihearhehassomespecimens

oftheemperormothandIwouldlovetoarrangeanexhibition.”

IthrowmyforkatMrCrabmouth’shead.Itsinksbetweenhiseyes,burieddeepinhisskull.Hediesinstantly.

TheProfessorstaresatmewithinterest.“BooBoodear.Thatwasabadthingyoujustdid.”

“Butyouwon’ttellmeoff,willyou,becauseyouwanttomarryme?”

Thebirthdaycaketastesdelicious.

MrAngelcakesisverypleasedwithme.ButIfeelIneedmorepractice.Morehumantargets.ButnoonecomestovisitandsoIhavenooneIcankill.

DreamoftheAngel-Eater

ItisthewitchinghourwhentheAngel-Eatercomestome.Floatsabovemybed.Speakstomedirectly.

Sheisagreatblackstar.

“Oursoulsareunderglasssquashedtogether.Youmustgetsomeonetobreakusout!”shesays,hoveringoverme.

“Whereareyou?”Istandonmybed.

“Onyourweddingnighthewillrevealme.Itishispattern.Youhavetowait.”

Shevanishesintothewallpaper.

Idreamofedibleclocks.Eachonetasteslikeinsect-meat.

London

THEBUTTERFLY

EXHIBITION

IamnineyearsoldandIhave

hadtowaitawholeyearbuttargetpracticehasfinallycome.TonighttheProfessoristakingmetoanexhibitioninLondonattheBritishMuseum.Thefamousexplorer,OberonLionheart,willbetherewithhismoths.MrAngelcakeshasgivenmetwobutterflybladesmadefromsilver.Theyslotneatlydownmyhighleather-lacedboots.TheProfessorlooksat

mequizzically.“Areyougoingtokillanyonetonight,dearest?”

“Verylikely,”Isay.

“CanIaskyoutorefrainfrommurderingMrLionheart,atleastuntilIgettoquizhimonhisemperors?”

AhugebannerhangsoutsidethestepstotheBritish

Museumwiththeemperormoth,inallitsdazzlingbluesandpurples.Itisverybeautiful,butnotasrareastheProfessor’s.MrAngelcakestellsmetokillasmanypeopleaspossible.SoIwilltrymybest.

Iamletloosetoroamfreeintheexhibition,andIwouldsaythere’saboutfiftypeoplehereandalargeamountof

champagne.Itakeaglassandtryit,thebubblesfizzupmynose.Therearealsostrawberriesandcream,bigbowlsofthem.Idipmyfingersinthecream.It’slikeabowlfullofangeltears,delicious.

Iseeahugemanwithamaneofredgoldhairandgreatbushybeard.Hemustbethefamousexplorer,

Lionheart.Igoupandsayhello.

“MynameisBooBoo.IamProfessorHummingbird’sadopteddaughter.”

“Well,well,”hegrowls.“It’sanhonourtomeetyoulittlemiss,”andheshakesmyhandwithhisgreatpaw.“Andwhatdoyouthinkofmyemperors?”Hepointsa

fingerbehindhimtowherearowofthemsitencasedinadisplaycabinet,eachoneadeepmidnightpurpleblue.Liketheeyesofmermaids.

“Theyareverybeautiful,MrLionheart.HaveyouseentheProfessor’sangel-eater?”

MrLionheartisstartled.“Ihadnoideahepossessedone.”

“Ohyes,hehangsitusuallyinhisbedroom,orthestudy,ifguestsarecomingtovisit.Maybeyouwillcomeandseeus?”

“IwouldlovetoMissBooBoo,”andhesmilesagreatpredatorysmile.Ilikehimverymuch.Ihavedecidednottokillhim.

Iamblelazilyupthestairs

withahandfulofstrawberrieswhichIampoppingintomymouth,asifIwasagodeatingseveredheads.IcanseetheProfessornowtalkingwithMrLionheart.

Iwait.

Iamapproachedbyagentlemanwithafuzzyredmoustacheandacigarinonehand.

“Hello,mydear.MynameisRufusHazard.”

“Hello,”Ireply.“Areyouacollectorofbutterflies?”

“Egad,no!I’manadventurer,mylittleone.Athrillseeker,treasurehunter.MostrecentlyIhadmylegchewedbyanamorouswitch.”

“Whywasshechewingyourleg?”

“Animalmagnetism.I’madangerouschaparoundthewomen.”Hisupperlipwobbled.

“Theycan’tseemtocontrolthemselvesaroundme.You’retooyoungtounderstandmydear.Butletmetellyou,I’mcursedwitha

terribleaffliction.”

“Delusion?”

“No,”hecontinuesunabashed.“Sexualmagnetism.”

IactuallyfeelsorryforhimsoIflinghimoutofthewindow.Hescreamsandlandssafelyinadustcartamblingoffintotheshadows.

“Whattheblazes?”heyells.

Iremovethebladesfrommybootsandextendthemasiftheywerewings.

Itislikeadance.IcanfeelthelimbsflyoffasIspin.Icanhearthescreamingandtherunning.Icansmellthem:it’ssweat,humanshitandsemen.Fearbetweentheir

legs;intheirthroatsvomit.Headsspinoffmyblades.It’sabeautifuldance.Icanseethebutterflyinmyhead,IcanhearMrAngelcakeslaughingandclapping.Chopchop,spinspin.

Silence.Iamstandinginaheapofbodyparts.TheProfessoriswatchingmefromthecorneroftheroom,eyeslikedarkpools.He’sexcitedbymebuthealsofearsme.

Hetakestheemperormothsandwegetintothecoachanddrivebackhome.Intothedarkness;intothedeep,beautifuldarkness.

Fourteen

ThatishowoldIam.Ihaveaninsatiabledesiretokill.It’slikeafeverrunninginsideme.Ilieonmybedandputmyhandsbetweenmylegs.

MrAngelcakessaysIhave

surpassedwhathethoughtwaspossible.Herunshisfingerupanddownmythigh.Theskinsuitheiswearingisbeginningtorot.Ihavesuckedsomuchpoweroutofhim.Heisjustavoicenowandasackofskin.ButIfollowhiscommands.IamstrongerthanMrAngelcakes.IamstrongerthantheProfessor.Whydon’tIkillthemboth?BecausethenI

willbealone.

MrAngelcakesspeakstome,hisrottinggreentonguelollinginsidehismouth.“Mylittleweapon.”Hestrokesmyface.

Iamgoingmad.

Meltingintothefloorboards.

PedrockGrowsup,1899

SAILING

Thelaketodayisfullof

silverythreadsandspiralsofcolour.Insectsdartoverthesurface,deeplyinlovewiththeirreflections.IhavereturnedtothevillageofDarkwoundandborrowedGrandpa’sboat.Ihavereturnedformylittlesister’swedding.Ihaven’tseenherintenyears.Hehaskeptherlockedaway.Thelittleboatglidesgentlyoverthewater,likealeaf.Glidingwithout

anyparticularpurpose.Icanseetheedgeofthewoods,theedgeoftheworld.

Iworkasaclerkintheship-buildingfirmofWinkhood&SoninLondonandhavelodgingsnearStMartin’s.Iamcourtingahatmaker’sdaughter,aMissPennySeashell,withhairthecolourofwhitehoneycombbeachesandeyesasgreenas

algae.

Muchhashappenedoverthelasttenyears.MrsCharm’sMedievalHorrorswerepublishedandaphenomenalsuccess;sheiscurrentlywritingherseventhbook,TheWickedMonkofWinchester,whichagainexploresthenotionofdemonicpossessionintheclergy.Ihavereadand

enjoyedthemall.ShemissesMrLoveheartterriblyanddedicatesallherbookstohim,hopingsecretlythatheissomewheresafe,readingthem,andnotdeadaseveryonebelieves.Cornelius,whoisnowtwenty-six,hassadlybecomeanopiumaddictandiscaredforbyhismotherathome.Hehasalsobecomefascinatedwithturnips,which,Ihavebeen

informedbythevillageapothecary,MrPinhole,isasideeffectofthedrugusage,althoughMrsCharmtellsmethisiscompletenonsenseandMrPinholehasbeenobviouslyself-prescribinghimselflaudanum.Grandpaisstillwithus,attheripeageofninety,butGuardianthedogdiedafteranightofhowlingatBooBoo’swindowandisburiedunderarosebushin

thegarden.Hisghost,Iamsure,watchesoverher.HewillforeverbeherGuardian.

PrunellaandEstelle,nowtwenty,areplump,prettyandblonde,withthesoleintentionofmarryingHoratioBeetle,whoisstillunmarried,althoughhasbrokenastringofheartsaccordingtovillagegossip,andhasbyallaccountsseveralbastard

childreninthevillage.MrGrubweedwasneverfoundandMrsGrubweedhasstillnotyetutteredaword.Whethershehaschosennevertospeakorissimplyunabletoremainsamystery.

MrWormhole,thevicar,willbeperformingtheweddingserviceformysisternextSaturday.Heremainsstillparanoidthathewilljoin

theother“missing”.

Thesunisstartingtoset,anorangeballsinking;themoon,aswhiteasbabyteeth,emerging.Mylittleboatfloatsonunderthisnewmoonlight,sweatyglintingwaterripples.Itmovesforward,itmustkeepmovingforward.

Aboveintheblacksky,a

comettailblazesandexplodes.Ribbonsofgoldandshockingphosphorescencedazzle.ItisthemostbeautifulthingIhaveeverseen,andyetitis

Thebutterfliesinthehouse

ofHummingbird

areshakingonthe

walls.

Theglassiscracking

ScotlandYard,July1899

DETECTIVEWAXFORD

ANDTHEBUTTERFLIES

Tenyears.Tenbloodyyears.WhiteandWalnutpopintomyheadeveryday.EventhemadMrLoveheart!Icouldn’tfindyou,Iamsosorry,Icouldn’tfindyou.Idreamofbutterflies.Theydancebehindmyeyes,soarinmybrain.Iaminfestedbythem.

Isinkbackintomychair,peekatafileonalocalstrangler.Sipmytea,plop

anothersugarlumpinandgiveitaswirl.MrsSultana,thetealady,wheelshertrolleyinandgivesmeastickybun.

“Cheerup,ducky,”shesays.

“ThankyouMrsSultana,”Igrumbleinreply.

Shesqueakshertrolleyoff

andIhearherinthecorridor,“He’ssuchabiggrumpypussycat.”

ConstableLuckpeekshisheadroundthedoor.

“Sir,there’sagentlemanheretoseeyou.SayshehasinformationonProfessorHummingbird.”

Mybrainwakesup,“Send

himin,andgetsomemoreteaandbunsoffthetrolleywouldyou.”

“Yes,sir.”

Amomentlateralargeblackbeardedmanentersmyofficelookingextremelyuncomfortable.

“IamDetectiveWaxford.PleasetakeseatMr…?”

“OttoInk-Squid,”hesays,andhedoes,squashinghimselfintothewobblychair.

ConstableLuckappearsandplopsamugofteaonthetableandaplateofbunsandretreats.

“So,whatdowanttotellme,MrInk-Squid?”

“Ihavesomeworrying

informationregardingthisweddingannouncement,”andheplopsacopyoftoday’sTimesonmydeskandpointstothenewspaperarticle:

ANNOUNCEMENT

ProfessorGabrielHummingbird,

theeminentanthropologist,istomarryMissBooBooFrogwishonAugust8th

atStCuthbert’sChurchinthevillageofDarkwound,Kent.

Myheartfullofbutterflies.Theypoundwithinmychest.“Goon,”andIawaithisanswer.

“Itissomethingquitedisturbing.Imusttellyouquiteastory.IownamagicemporiuminSpitalfields.Ihavehadthebusinessforovertwentyyears.Tenyearsagoagirlcameintomyshopforhelp.Professor

Hummingbirdhadburiedheralive.”

Iseeabutterflyonthewindowflutterpast.

MrInk-Squid’svoiceisfullofsadness.“MyshopislocatedonBeeswaxLane:IsellOuijaboards,PsychicTraysandtarotcards;thatsortofthing.Idon’tgetmanycustomers,mostlypostal

ordersfromaverypeculiarcliental.So,Iwasquiteshockedwhenshefellthroughmyfrontdoor,coveredinmudandinhernightgown.Barefeet,hysterical.Itoldhertositdown,gotherablanketandacupoftea.Itriedtocalmherdown.ShetoldmehernamewasGuinevereHarloweandshewassixteenyearsold.Shesaidshewasthewifeofa

ProfessorHummingbird,amarriagearrangedbyherfather,whomshedescribedasafamouscollectorofbutterfliesandmoths.Shetoldmeherfamilyhadalargecollectionoffinespecimens:ghostmoths,fromPeru,‘worthafortunetoanavidcollector,’shesaid.ShetoldmethatwaswhatProfessorHummingbirdhadwanted.Thatwaswhathewasafter.”

MrInk-Squidpausedanddranksometea.Helookedweary.Hefeltlikeme.Hefelttheweightofaworldgonemad.

“Pleasecontinue,MrInk-Squid,”Isaidgently

“Shetoldmeabouttheweddingnight.Shesaidhewas–”hepaused,”–therewassomethingabnormalabouthis

desires.”

Iwaited.

“Shesaidthemorningafterthewedding,afuneralcarriagearrived.Sheaskedhim‘Whoisdead?Whohasdied?’Hehadreplied,‘Whyyouofcourse,mydear.’”

Iwaited.

“He’samonster,”MrInk-

Squidshuddered.“Aderangedcollector.Shetoldmeshewasscreaming,triedtorun,buttheycaughther,theProfessorandhisvilebrother,Ignatius.Caughther,druggedherandstuffedherinacoffin.Shesaidsheawokeindarkness.Runningoutofair.Shesaidshewasdying.”

“Howdidsheescape?”Ileantforward

“Aboydugherup,openedthecoffin.Shesaidshewouldhavethoughthimanangel,buthelookedsinister.Saidhehadeyesasblackasnightmares.Remindedherofalittleshark.Heopenedthecoffinlidandsaidtoher,‘Donotgobacktoyourhusband,ashewillkillyou.Donotreturntoyourfather,forheismurdered.SeekhelpfromamancalledOttoInk-Squid

whorunsanemporiumonBeeswaxLane.’”

“Thatismostqueer,”Isaidtakinganotherstickybun.

“Yes,apparentlyhesaidhehadsavedherbecauseheobjectedtopeoplebeingburiedwhoarenotactuallydead.Well,shepulledherselfoutquickasshecouldandmadeherwaytomylittle

shop.Ihavenoideawhothisyoungboyisandwhyhewouldhaverecommendedmetoheraid.”

“Andshedidn’tgotothepolice?”

“No,shewasterrified,asshewasstillhiswifeandproperty.Hewouldhavekilledher.Isaidthatshecouldstaywithmeuntilwe

couldsortsomethingout.Shehadnofamily:hermonieswereinthepossessionofthatvillain,Hummingbird.ShestayedwithmeforthreemonthsandeventuallyIarrangedhertransportationtoParistostaywithmysister;tobeginanewlife.Igaveherthemoneytodoitandshenevercameback.SheisnowengagedtoaCaptainFlintoftheBritishnavy,whoknows

nothingofherpast,andwilltravelwithhimtotheSouthAmericas.WhenIreadthearticleofhisyounggirl’sforthcomingmarriage,well,Ihadtotrytopreventitsomehow.”

“WouldGuinevereHarlowebepreparedtomakeastatement?”

“Icannothaveherinvolved

inthis.Ifheknewshewerealivehewouldsurelytrytomurderher.”

“Icannotarrestamanonamererumour.Ineedherstatement;Ineedproof,MrInk-Squid.”

“ShedoesnotknowIhavecomehere.IvowedIwouldneverbetrayhertrust.Butseeingthisyounggirlistobe

marriedtohim.Itisadeathsentence.”

“Thisyounggirl,BooBoo,willbehisseventhwife,”Isayandleanbackintomychair,thinking.

“Seventh?”MrInk-Squidcries.“Theremustbesomethingthatcanbedone.Theremustbe!”

“Tellme,MrInk-Squid,doyoubelieveinfate?Youdorunamagicemporium,soIexpectyouarepredisposedtowardsthemoreunusualandunexplainedaspectsoflife?”

“Well,yes,Isuppose.Itwasmyfather’sshoporiginally.Hewasamagician,performedonstage,andwhenheretiredopenedtheshop.It’sall

illusion,ofcourse:hiddenmirrors,sleightofhand.”

“Yes,illusion,quite.IhavemetthisgirlBooBoobefore.Shewashisadopteddaughter.MyfriendDetectiveWhitewentmissingattheProfessor’shousewhiletryingtorescueher.”

“Iamsosorry.Doyoubelievehimmurdered?”he

replies

“Ihaveneverfoundoutthetruth.Theonlywitnesswasthegirlanddoyouknowwhatshesaidtome?”

Ipause.

“Shesaidhehadturnedhimintoabutterfly.”

“Perhapsshewasinshock?”hesaid

“That’swhatIthoughtformanyyears.Ithashauntedme.Icannotletitgoandyettherehavebeennofurtherdevelopments.Ikeepdreamingaboutthatgirlandwhatshesaid.”

“Itisguilt,perhaps.Itweighsheavilyonyourmind.Hewasyourfriend.”

“Whatifshewastellingthe

truth?”

“Itisanimpossiblethingyousuggest.Maybeyoushouldspeaktoheragain,convincehernottomarrythismonster.Maybeshewillrememberwhatreallyhappened.”

“Thankyou,MrInk-Squid,foryourinformation.IwillseewhatIcandoandIwill

keepyouinformedifthereareanydevelopments,”andIshakehishand.

“Iwouldbemostgrateful.Wecannotletanythinghappentothatyoungwoman,”andheleavesmesinkingintomychair;theweightofdarknesspressinguponme.

Isuddenlyremember

seeingamagician’strickofconcealingabutterflyinhistophatsoitflewout.Itescapedonlyattheend.

VillageofDarkwound

DETECTIVEWAXFORD

ANDPROFESSORHUMMINGBIRD’SWIVES

Thisbloodyplaceneverchanges!Derangedwoodlands,crawlingwithspecimensoftoadstoolswithfangsandpotato-brainedvillagers.

IamoutsidethehomeofProfessorHummingbird.IknowthatheisawayonbusinessinLondon,seeinghisbrotherIgnatius.Iknockonthedoor.Ifnoonereplies

Iwillbreakin.

Ayoungwomaninablackdressopensthedoor.

“Ah,MissBooBoo.Helloagain.Ithasbeenmanyyearssincewelastmet.”

“Irememberyou,”shesays.

“Ineedtoaskyouonceagain,whathappenedto

DetectiveWhite,ConstableWalnutandMrLoveheart?”

“Please,comein,”shesays,andIfollowherintothehallofredandshepointstothreebutterfliesonthewall:onebrown,onewhiteandonebrightred.

“ItisasItoldyoubefore.TheProfessorturnedthemintobutterflies.”

“Yourealisewhatyouaretellingmeismadness.”

Shedoesn’trespond.Sheisaverystrangeyoungwoman,movingsilently,asthoughshedoesnotexist.

“Ineedtoknowwhathappenedtothem.Ihavetoknow.”

“Ihavealreadytoldyou.”

“ARETHEYALIVE?”Ishout,grippingherbytheshoulders.Shedoesn’tflinch.

“Yes,buttheyaretrapped.”

“WhatmustIdotofreethem?”

“Smashtheglass,”shesayssosoftly.

“What?”Isay,almost

laughing.“Youhavegonemad!”

“Smashtheglass,”shesaysagain,willingmetodoit.

“LUNACY!”Ishout.

“Smashtheglass,”shesaysagain.

Ipickupthebutterfliesandsmashtheframeagainstthewall.Theglasssmashesinto

pieces.Icanhearlightningcrackintheskyandahandtouchesmyshoulder.IturnroundandMrLoveheartissmilingatme.“DetectiveWaxford.Iammakingaconfessioninadvance.IamgoingputtheProfessor’sheadonastickoutsideScotlandYardandthenblowhishouseup…again.”

“Loveheart?”Iam

confounded.DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnutarestandingbesidehim.

“Youlookolder,Waxford,”DetectiveWhitesays,ratherwobblyonhisfeet.“Itmustbethiscasegettingtoyou.”

“ThankGod,you’realive.”Iamnearlycryingwithdisbelief.

Iturntothegirl.“Youcouldhavefreedthem.Whydidn’tyou?”

“Ican’t.Iamabutterfly.”Andshewandersoffdownthehallway.

“Now,sheisinteresting,”remarksLoveheart.

“Wehavetostopthewedding,”Iblurtout.

“Whatwedding?”saysDetectiveWhite.

“You’veallbeentrappedfortenyears.It’s1899.ThatgirlisBooBoo,andtheProfessorismarryinghernextSaturday.”

“Mygrandmaisgoingtoberatherworried,”sayConstableWalnut.

“Iwouldn’tconcernyourself,Walnut,”repliesLoveheart.“Shealreadythinksyou’redead.”

“WhatonearthdoItellher?”

“Sayyouwereonasabbatical.”

“Fortenyears?”

“Coma?”

“She’snotbuyingthat.Ineedsomethingmoreconvincing.”

“Bulletinthebrain…amnesia.”

“Shutupthepairofyou,”saysDetectiveWhite.“Thereisproof,Waxford,againstHummingbird.”AndDetectiveWhiteshowsmetheroomwherethe

photographsofhiswivesarehanging.

Theglasscracks.

BIGBENGOES

BACKWARDS

10YEARSfallofftheclock

ThePerilsofUsingBlackMagic!

Thespellisbroken

Theglassisbroken

TIMEISBROKEN

THEYEARISBACKTO1889

Andyet,wearestillthesame

Deathwakesupfromasnooze,checkshispocket

watchandsighs.

1889,again!

MrLoveheartandthewooingofBooBoo

I’vedecidedIshallmarry

her!She’sperfectforme.Wegotogetherlikecheeseandpickle(amIthepickle,perhaps?).OfcourseIshallhavetomurderherfiancébutIcan’tsupposeanyonewillmindtoomuch;he’saninsaneinsectcollector.He’sonlyafteryourwings,BooBoo!

LoveheartManorhasbecomeratherovergrown

aftertenyears.Ihavetohackmywaythroughthornyshrubsandteethyrosebusheswithmysword.Ouch!Thisremindsmeofafairytale.Nowwhichoneisit?

Hack,hack,hack

Mygardensarewild.Afleshypatchworkquiltoffruit,weedandflowers.Theyburstatthetouch;shapeinto

heartsandbreakwithinmyhands.Mykingdom,mybeautifulkingdom.

Abigorangecatissittingonmyfrontsteps;hisbottomasplattyshape.“AndIshallnameyou‘Pumpkin’,”Isay,“becauseyouresembleone.”

Thecatlooksatmewithdisgust,hisjadeeyesnarrowing,andthenraiseshis

tailandbreakswind.

“That’snotverynice,isit,Pumpkin?”Naughtycat.Andhewon’tbudgefrommyfrontstep.He’sblockingthedoorwithhishugeshape.Iwonderwhathe’sbeeneating?Possiblymyneighbours.

Ishallhavetoclimbthroughawindow.“Pumpkin,

youmustguardtheentrancetomykingdom.”

Thecatyawns.

“IamtheLordoftheUnderworld,”Iexplain.

Heisn’timpressed.Well,that’scatsforyou.

Ileapthroughadownstairswindowintomylibrary.Bitdustyinhere.Cough.

Splutter.Iamlookingforsomeroseshears.IhavedecidedtocollectsomeflowersforBooBoo.Myinsectqueen.IsprintintothekitchensandAhYes!GARDENINGshears,underneaththesinkperhaps?No.Ohwell,Ishallusemyswordinstead.

MrFingersfloatsinthemirrorinthehallway.A

specimeninajar.Hedoesn’tappeartobeabletodie.Dizzyintheeyes;fullofstars.Itapontheglass.Hestirslikeababyinawomb.Bareshisteeth.Maddog.

Ishouldendthis.Thishasgoneontoolong.

“Goodbye,MrFingers,”Isay.

Idrivemyswordthroughthemirroranditsmashes.Anexplosionofglass,ascream.Hedisintegrates.Thehouseshakes.Mykingdomwakes.TheUnderworldisawake.Tentaclesofblackbreakthroughtheearthinmykingdomandcoilintomytrees,theywindthemselvesabouttheflowersandintothearchitectureofmyhouse.

Iopenthefrontdoor.Pumpkinthecatisunaffectedbythehugedisturbanceofundergrowth.Thelandscapeisshifting,distorted.Myrosebushesareblooming;therosessoredtheystabmyeyes.Bigbloodypetalsintoxicateandoverpowerallotherflowers.

Mycrownsitsonthehalltable,glinting.Ipopitonmy

head.Glittermagicthing.Darkstar.Bestkeepitonfromnow.

AdarkfairyzoomspastinthehedgerowandPumpkinthecatmoveslikeanarrowafterit,hisenormousbottomwobblingoffintothewilderness.

Istepintomygardenswithmyswordandstartcollecting

rosesformybelovedBooBoo.Myqueenofhearts.

Theunder-stinkofthisnewworldisalittlelikemeatbeingleftouttoolong.Itmergeswithinmykingdomofhearts,inventsnewplants,newlifeforms.Imayhaveproblemsfindingagardener.

Anarmfulofroses:theyarebiggirls,heavypetals,red

asmeat;thornslikefairyblades.Ishallgatherheramountainofthem.Abloodywobblytowerofthemwithperhapsalittlenoteattached.

WouldyouliketobemyqueenandliveinmyPalace

ofHearts?

Aheartineveryroom,oneverything(includingthechamberpots),andallof

themforyou,mylove.Everyoneforyou.

Ifindmagpiefeathersonthepathandacoilofsnailshells.Wonderfulthings,littlepartsofmygarden.Thelanguageoffairies:magicgobbledygookfloatsinmykingdom.Andnowastaircasecoilingtotheunderworldshasappeared.Coilingdownintodark

places;blackfeathersandtoadcroak.Ileavetherosesinapowerfulheapbymydoorandgodownthestaircasetoinspectmyotherkingdom.Pumpkinthecatwatchesmefromadistance,lickinghispaws.Whatdidthefairytastelike,Iwonder?

Aloopyamputation–thatiswhatitfeelsliketowalkdownintotheunderworlds.

You’llfeeldisembowelled,steppingintodeepmagic.TheKingdomoftheUnderworldadjustsitselftoitsruler.Before,undertheruleofMrFingers,itwasmadeofdementedclockwork;theconstanttickingofmechanicalcontraptions;thesoundsoftime.Regulated,obsessivetinkering.

Istepintoaworldnowof

blackhearts:jamflowers,fairieswithtartanslippers,ariverofredflowerpetals.Lush,nervousenergy,burstingfairytales.Theclockshavemelted.Timehasnomeaninghereanymore.Myworldisanupsidedownfairytale.Aheartlollipoponastick.Goon,givemealick.Alittlemadnessneverhurtanyone.

IwanderamongstmyPalaceofHearts.Iamalonehere,despitethewildlife.Ihavenoqueen.Noheirs.ThereisofcoursePumpkinthecat,hewouldmakeaveryfineruleroftheUnderworlds.

Deathappears.“Don’tyoudare!”

“Darewhat?”Iturnaround,surprised.Healwayspopsupatthestrangestmoments.

“Don’tbequeathyournewkingdomtoanoverweightcat.”Heexaminesthelollipops.“Thisisanimprovementfromlasttime,ifalittlepeculiar.”

“Ididn’tknowyoucould

readmythoughts.”

“Sometimes,andit’squiteunnerving.Youwillbewonderingwhatyourresponsibilitiesarenow,Isuppose.MrFingersspentmostofhistimecollectingassassinsonsandclocks.Youwillserveagreaterpurpose,Ihope,”andheeyesmerathersternly.

“Shallwehavesometeaandcake?”Imotionhimtowardsatableunderablacktreeofraspberryjellyheads.Eyesmadeofmarshmallows.Onthetablesitsapotofsteamingteaandaplateofchocolateéclairs.Deathpourstheteaandaddsthreelumpsofsugarandadashofmilk.

“You’relookingverywell,”Isay,forthesakeof

politeconversation.

Hiseyesturnfromadeepshadeofgoldtoblackandfixuponme.Hishandselectsanéclair.

“Nowthen.Iwillbekeepinganeyeonyou,MrLoveheart.Youcanberathernaughtyandunpredictable.”

Itakemypistoloutand

shootsomethingabovehishead,whichscreamsandfallstothegroundwithathud.

“AsIwassaying,”continuesDeath,completelyunfazed,“Youcanseethisunderworldisorganic.Itmouldsitselftoitsking.Shapeshiftsaroundyou.Youhavemadeitbloomwithlife,MrLoveheart,burstwithit.Itwasastagnant,darkplace

before.Nowitisenergy.Itfizzes.”

AfairywithindigowingszoomsroundDeath’shead.Sitsonhisshoulder.She’safterhiséclair.

“Anotherlump?”Ipasshimthesugarbowl.

“No,thankyou,”andhepeersatthefairy,whorefuses

tomovefromhisshoulder.Shesqueakssomeinstructionsathim.

“Yourcreaturesareasimpertinentasyouare!”andhepassesheranéclair.Shepicksitup,(it’sthesamesizeasher)andcarriesitoff.

“I’mveryfondoffairies.Theybite,youknow,ifyoudon’tgivethemsugar.”

Deatheatshiséclair.“Thisisverytasty.Iseeyou’rethinkingofwooingMissBooBoo.”

“Yes.”

“ProfessorHummingbirdisinthewayofcourse.Hewillhavetoberemoved,”saysDeath.

“Whydoyouhelpme?”

“BecauseIlikeyou,MrLoveheart.Andbecause,Itooamlonely.”

PumpkinthecatmewsfromthetopofthestaircaseatLoveheartManor.Hewantsanéclair.

Revengeisbestservedwithcustard

Iamsittinginmyoffice,eatingacustardtart.

It’sMondaymorningandsurprisinglychilly.IamlookingattheTimes,whohaveprintedontheirfrontpageallsixphotographsofeverywifeoftheProfessor’s.Theirfacesstareoutofthepageslikefishunderwater.

MURDERINVESTIGATION

Urgentinformationrequiredontheidentityandwhereaboutsofthesemissingwomen.All

previouswivesoftheanthropologistProfessorGabrielHummingbird,brotherofIgnatiusHummingbird.Scotland

Yardinvestigating.

Ieattheooze,lickthepastryclean.

BooBoo

SIXTEEN

IamengagedtobemarriedtotheProfessor.Theweddingis

nextweek.Iexaminemyselfinmylookingglassandtouchtheblackheartroundmythroat.AmIuninteresting,ugly,wretched?AmIalunatic,gonemad,akillingmachine?AmIaprettygirl,beautifulgirl?Noneofthesethings,allofthesethings.WhatamI?Butterfly,butterfly,butterfly,butterfly,butterfly.

IthinkabouttheAngel-Eater,thetattooonmyback.Iammarkedwithher,sheispartofme.Undermyskin,insidemybones.Blackwings,sharpasarazoredge.Slicemeupwithyourlove;dissectme.Openmeupandfindbutterfliesinsidemystomach,

TodaytheProfessorisinLondononbusiness.More

butterfliestocapture.Iwanderroundthehouse.Myheadisfullofprisons,vaults,hiddenchambers,lockedwindowsanddoors.Ikeephearingabeatingofwings.MrAngelcakessleepsnexttomeeverynightbuthesaysthingswillchangeafterthewedding.ImustkilltheProfessorandtakethebutterflyandthenMrAngelcakeswilllickmyskin

withathousandgreen-tonguedkisses.

Icannotkillhimyet.Hehasmysoulunderglass.

TodayDetectiveWaxfordarrives.ItellhimwhereDetectiveWhiteis.Finallyhesmashestheframeandsetsthemfree.MrLoveheartlooksatmestrangely.Hiseyesfollowmeaboutlikea

puppydog.DoesheknowwhatIam?Myblackdressslipsliketricklingblackwatersalongthecourtyard.Hefollowsmeoutsideintothewarmth.

“Youareengagedtobemarried?You’venotpickedwell,MissBooBoo.He’sabitofashit.”

“WhowouldyouratherI

married,MrLoveheart?”

“Iwashopingwecouldgettoknoweachotheralittlebetter.You’reverycompelling.”

“Yourtimingisterrible.”

Hestepscloser.“Really?”

Ithrowhiminthemoat.

Night-TimeFizz

Puffsofblackmagic.Sleepytime.

aspoon.

Youfillmewithjam.

TheAngel-Eater.Wingsbeatingaboveme.

Myspookysister.

“Helloagain,”Isay.My

wordsarebubbles;theymakepops.

Blackflutter.Insectjudder.Flippetyflap.

Givemesomesugar.

Makemeyourcake.

Idreamofbutterflies,Idreamofbutter.

Idreamofbutterflies.

Idreamofbutter.

Don’tloseyourhead,Horatio!

TheBeetleshaveinvitedmeforafternoontea.Repugnantthings!Slipperyblack,slime

tonguedsocialites.ItisWednesday.Itisthreedaysbeforemywedding.TheProfessorisstillawayinLondon,stayingwithhisbrother;perhapsabachelorparty?HewillnotreturnuntiltheSaturday.SoImustentertainmyselfasbestIcan.MrAngelcakesandIplayhideandseek.Hesmellssobad,Ifindhimeasilyinthepantry,smallpiecesofrotten

greenishblackfleshfallingfromhim.

“Youneednewskin,MrAngelcakes.”

“WhenyoukilltheProfessorIwillbestrongagain.PerhapsIwillwearhisskin.”

Thegloomdarkofthepantrymakeshiseyesglint

putridyellow.

“GoandplaywiththeBeetles.Squashthem.”Hesmileswithwhatisleftofhislips.

Iwearmylongblackvelvetdress.OnlyeverblackfortheProfessor.Hedoesn’texplainhispreferences,hejustexpectsconformity.

TheBeetlemansion,creamcolouredandorderly.Aniceneatgreenlawn.Aperfectlyacceptableborderofflowers,neatlypositioned,controllable.

LadyBeetleandhersonsitwearingadarkshadeofpurpleintheirgarden.Ateapotandteacupsneatlyarrangedbeforethem.Apileofdelicatesandwichesand

fairy-likecakes.Beetle,Ithink.Beetle,rollingdung,livinginshit.

“Goodafternoon,MissFrogwish,”saysLadyBeetle,dryly.SheiswonderinghowfarupthesocietyladderIwillclimbonceIbecomeMrsHummingbird.

“Goodafternoon,”IreplyandsitdownbesideHoratio

Beetle,nowtwenty-sixyearsold,dashinglyhandsomeandstillanastylittleboy.Heiswatchingmeplayfully.

“Youinterestme,BooBoo.”Hewantstoplaygameswithme.“Youreyesaremischievous,tryingtobewitchme.Iam,asyoumayhaveheard,aheart-breaker.Ileaveatrailofweepingwomeninmywake.Much

likeLordByron,Iammad,badanddangeroustoknow.”

“Whatafuckingpileofshit,”Isayandremovemybutterflybladesfrommyboots.“You’reanignorantchildandIamgoingtoteachyoualessoninmannerstowomen.”

Isliceoffhismother’sheadfirstandflingitaside.

Hehasdefecatedhimselflikeananimalandiscrawlingawayfrommescreaming.Ithrowbothblades,whichlandinhiseyes,impalinghimtotheground.Ithencutoffhisheadandflingitinthepond.

Thisistooeasy.Iamboredwiththis.

MrLoveheartappears,sprintingacrossthelawnwith

abunchofroses.Hebowsverylow.“Ithoughtyoudealtwiththemrathertastefully.”Hehandsmetheflowers.

“Iamnotavailable,MrLoveheart.IamgettingmarriedonSaturday.”

“ThenIwillhavetokillyourwretchedfiancéinaduel.”

“Duel?Youwereintentonblowinghimup.”

“Yes,becauseit’sfunnier.MissFrogwish,myheartisinyourhands,dearlady.”

“Youhaveveryprettyeyes,MrLoveheart.”

“Iwon’tletyoumarryhim,BooBoo.Iwillnotgiveuponyou.”

Itaketheflowersandwalkthroughthewoodsandthinkabouthiseyes,whichareblacklikemine.

DetectiveWaxfordandWhitefindPandora

IamoutsidetheLupineAsylumwithDetectiveWhite.Wehavefound

Pandora,thefourthwifeofProfessorHummingbird,committedtothemadhouse.Ofhissixwives,wehavediscoveredthroughadvertisementintheTimesthatthreearedead,onewasburiedaliveandnowlivesinParisandtwowerecommittedtoanasylum,oneescapingwiththehelpofMrLoveheart.Thisisourlastlady.

Pandoraisoutsideinthecourtyardonaseat,knitting.Itappearstobeanextraordinarylongyellowscarfsheismaking,despitetherebeingaheatwave.

“Hello,Pandora.MynameisDetectiveWaxfordandthisisDetectiveWhite.Wewouldliketoaskyousomequestionsregardingyourlatehusband,ProfessorGabriel

Hummingbird.Hewillbemarryingasixteenyear-oldthisSaturday.”

Shelooksupfromherknitting.Thescarf,Iestimate,mustbetwentyfootlong,atleast.

“Isshepretty?”Pandoraasks,hervoiceverylightandchildlike.

“Sheissixteen,madam,andindanger,”Isay.

“HesaidIwaspretty,”sighsPandora.“Hesaidthatbeforewegotmarried.AfterwardshejustsaidIwasmad.”

“Whathappenedtoyou?Howdidyouenduphere?”

Pandoracontinuestoknit,

thegreatheapsofbutteryellowwooltrailinglikeRapunzel’shairbyherfeet.“Aftertheweddingnightheseemedboredwithmealready.Ididn’tknowhowtopleasehim.MaybeIshouldhavemadehimacakewithsomesugaredflowersorameringue.I’mnotmad.Iamagoodgirl.Iamagoodgirl.”

Ithinktomyself,shehas

beendrivenmad.Hemayaswellhavekilledher.

DetectiveWhitekneelsbyherside.“Itisaverybeautifulscarf,”hesayskindly.

“Thankyou.Thefairieshelpedme.”

DetectiveWhiteandIhead

backtoScotlandYard.Wearebeingfollowed.

“Percival,there’ssomethingwatchingus,”Isay,andglanceovermyshoulder,catchingsightofatop-hattedgentlemanwithaneyepatch.Insteadofflinching,heacknowledgesmysuspicionswithamusement.

WhenwearriveatScotlandYard,ConstableWalnutiswaitingforusbytheentrance,eatingamuttonpie.

“Detectives,there’saladyheretoseeyou.”Helookedatmesheepishly,wipingcrumbsfromhislips.

“Thankyou,Walnut.”Iopenthedoortomyoffice.Aladyinalong,moth-greyveil

whichcoversherfaceisperchednervouslyonachairbymydesk.

“Goodmorning,”Isay.

“AreyouHenryWaxford?”hervoicenervous,hersmallhandinalaceglove,pointingatme.Shelooksasthoughshebelongsinanotherworld,likealittleghost.

“Yes,andthisismycolleague,DetectiveWhite.Howmaywehelpyoumadam?”

“IsawthepicturesofthosepoorwomenintheTimes.ThebridesofGabrielHummingbird.Howmanyarestillalive?”

“Three.Wouldyoulikesometea,Miss…?”

“Yesplease.MynameisMarySummerfly.”

IpopmyheadoutofthedoorandaskWalnuttobringinsometeaandbiscuits.

“Didyouknowanyofthesewomen?”Iask,sittingmyselfbackdownagain.

“No,Inevermetanyofthem.I…Iam…”She

strugglesterriblywiththewords.

“Areyoualright,miss?”asksDetectiveWhite.

“No,Iamnot.Mylifeisindanger.Ineedyourhelp.Ineedyourprotection,”shegasps.

“Youaresafewithus,MissSummerfly.Pleasetellus

whathashappened.”

“DoyouknowGabrielHummingbird?”Iintervene.

“No,butIknewofhisbrother,Ignatius.IwasbroughtupontheRomneyMarsh.IlivedwithmyAuntinasmallcottagenearhisfamilyhome.IusedtotakewalksonthemarshlandandsometimesIwouldbumpinto

himandwewouldhaveconversations.Wewouldtalkaboutthewildlife,mostlythebutterflies.Heseemedlikeaninteresting,well-educatedgentleman.Ibelieveheworksforthegovernment,holdsapositionintheHouseofLords.”

Walnutenterstheroom,announces,“We’reoutofcustardcreams!”andlaysthe

trayonthetable.

“Thankyou,Walnut,”repliesDetectiveWhite.Hebeginspouringthetea.

“Pleasecontinue,”Isaytoher.

“Afewmonthsago,wemetuponthemarshlandsagain.Heinvitedmetotaketeawithhimathishome.He

saidthelocalvicarwouldbethere,astheywouldbediscussinganarchaeologicaldigtotakeplaceonthemarshes.HewentintosomedepthabouttheburialmoundofanAngloSaxonking.ApparentlyartefactshadbeendiscoveredwhichhadcausedsomeexcitementamongstboththelocalsandanexpertfromtheBritishMuseum.Iacceptedhisinvitationand

walkedbackwithhimtohishouse.”

Shesuddenlygoesveryquiet.DetectiveWhitepassesheracupoftea.Sheremovesherveil,revealingherface,whichisghostlywhite.Aroundherneckisathickblackchokerwithanivorycameo.Shesipssomeofthetea,herhandsshaking.

“Whathappened,MissSummerfly?”Iask.

“WhenIwasinsidehishousehehitmeacrossthefaceandImusthavebecomeunconscious.WhenIwokeupIwasinasmallcageinacellar.”

Walnutstepsbackintotheroom,“I’vefoundsomehobnobs,”andplacesthemon

thetable.

DetectiveWhitestaresathimratherseriouslyandheslipsquietlyoutoftheroom.

“Afterawhiletwomencame.Theymademedrinksomethingsweet.Itmademefeelsleepy.AbagwasputovermyheadandIwasdraggedintoacarriageandwetravelledforseveral

hours.WhenthecarriagefinallystoppedIwasdraggedoutandIheardamansaythewordbutterfly.Theytookmeintoabuildingandputmeintoanothercage.Thebagwastakenoffmyhead.”

“Whatdidyousee?”

“Otherwomenincages.Wewereinsomesortofundergroundcellar.Stone

walls;itwasverydark,afewcandlesburning.Theceilinghad…Theceiling.”Sheburstsintotears.

“Whatabouttheceiling?”Ipersist.

“Ithadblooddrippingfromit,”shesobs.“IwassofrightenedbutIcouldn’tshoutout,thedrug…thewords…Nonoisecamefrom

mymouth.Itriedtospeaktotheotherwomen.Icouldn’t.”

“Howmanyotherwomanwerethere?”

“Maybeten,maybemore.”

“Whathappenednext?”

“Thedrugwasbeginningtowearoff.Mencameinandstartedopeningthecagesanddraggingthewomenout.My

cagewasopenedbutbeforeIwaspulledouttherewasaterriblescreaming,awomanstartedattackingoneofthemen,punchingandkickinghim.Itookachance.IranasfastasIcould,pastthecagesandupsomestairs.Icouldhearthembehindme.Thereweresomanycorridors,somanydoors,alllocked.IjustkeptrunninguntilIcametoadoorIwasabletoopenwhich

Iburstthroughintothelight.Therewerelotsofmensmokinganddrinkingandlaughing.Itlookedlikeaformalclubofsomesort.IsawIgnatiussmokingacigar.Hewasjuststaringatme.Ithinkhewasamused.Myonlythoughtwasofsurvival.IsawagreatwindowontheothersideoftheroomandIrantowardsitandthrewmyselfthroughit.Ifella

greatheightintodarkwater.IntotheThames.”

Theteacuptrembledinherhands

“IthoughtIwasgoingtodie.Iwokeupwashedupontheshorelinenearaboatyard.IhavebeeninhidinginlodgingsinLondoneversince.Ihadbeentoofrightenedtocometoyouand

thenIsawthepicturesofthewomenintheTimesandIthoughtaboutallthosewomenIleftbehind.Godknowswhathappenedtothem.”Shebendsherheadverylow.

“Youareaverybravewoman,MissSummerfly,andyouareunderourprotectionnow.Thebuildingyouwereheldcaptiveinbythe

Thames,doyourememberanythingaboutit?Couldyoufinditagain?”

“I…Irememberverylittle.”

“Anything,eventhesmallestdetailmayprovesignificant.”

“Onlythesmell.Likeaslaughterhouse,”andsheheld

herhandtohermouth,trembling.“Thosepoorwomen,youmustfindthem…I…wait.Iremember,whenIwasinthecage,themenhadasymbol,atattooontheirhands.Ablackbutterfly.”

MissSummerflyisescortedbacktoherlodgingsbyConstableWalnutandplacedunderpolice

protection.IhaveadvisedhertoleaveLondon,tostaywithherrelativesbytheseauntilthisinvestigationiscompleteandthoseresponsiblearrested.ProfessorHummingbird’sweddingwillbetakingplacetomorrowmorningandIintendtointerceptthenuptials.DetectiveWhitewilltraveltoKenttoinvestigatethekidnapping.

BUTTERFLY

everythingiscracking

splintering

RomneyMarshes,England,1865

MRANGELCAKESANDMRHUMMINGBIRD

MynameisWesleyAngelcakesandmydearestfriendisGabrielHummingbird.IhaveknownhimsinceIwastenyearsold.WegrewuptogetherinEnglandontheRomneyMarsh,inhousesneartoeachother,acrossthateerie,ghostriddenlandscape.Weusedtopretendwewereexplorersanddigintotheearth.WefoundRomancoinsand

fragmentsofpottery,aflintbladeandtheskullofasheep.Wecollectedbeetles,hornedones:blackhairylegs,emeraldeyes,deepsetlikejewels.Westoredtheminjarsandthengavethemmockfuneralsdownwells.

Butafterafewyearswestartedtobothhaveadeepfascinationforbutterflies.Itbecameanaddiction.Our

fathersgaveusbutterflynetsforourbirthdaysandwechasedthosewhitemarshlandmoths,thepalebluesummerfliesandthecabbage-eaters.WechasedthemasthegodoftheunderworldchasedPersephone:unyielding,obsessively.

Bythetimewewereeighteenwebothhadextensivecollectionsand

everyvarietyofbutterflyinEnglandsatpinnedthroughtheheartinourhouses.WearrangedatripabroadtoSouthAmericatocollectvarietiesoftherarestintheworld.Ittookoverayeartoplanandherewenoware.

WeareinPeruexploringanAztectemple.We’vebeeninSouthAmericafortwomonthsnowandalreadyhave

agoodcollectionofghostmoths,emperorsanddancingflames.Thelatterisavibrantpinkandorangebutterfly.Gabrielhasfoundsevenofthose,eachonehekisseswhenhecapturesthem.

Thisparticulartempleiscoolanddarkwithgreatvinescreepingroundourfeetandsnailsthesizeofteapotssoftlymovingabout.Wehave

comeherebecausewehavebeentoldthattherarestbutterflyintheworldhasbeenspottedhere.HernameisAngel-Eaterandsheisalsothelargestbutterflyintheworld.Wemusthaveherforourcollection,forourexhibitioninLondononourreturn.

Wecreeplowerintothebowelsofthetemple,rubble

anddarkearthpiledroundourfeet,thewallsdecayingandcrumbling.Gabrielholdsthetorch,whichflickersandspits,revealingpaintingsonthetemplewalls.Picturescrudelyexecuted,showingthetemplestepscoveredinpilesofbodies,anoceanofbodiesandawarriorwomanstandingatthetop.Atthebottomofthetemple,ariverisdepictedstuffedfullof

humanhearts.

Wecometoagreatstonedoor,whichwithacombinedeffortwemanagetoheaveopen.

Insideisasmallchamberwithanaltar,andapicturedrawnonthewallofadeitywearinghumanskin.Gabrielpointshisfingertotheceilingandwebothgaspfortherewe

seeanangel-eater,twofootlong,wingsasblackashell,floatingaboveourheads.

Sosoftlymynetsweepsherin,asthoughaloverpluckingasweetheartontothedancefloor.Andinamomentshe’sdead.

Wearebothlaughinganddancing.Ashappyasdrunkbugs.Gabrielasksmeto

checktherestofthechambertoseeifthereareanymorebeautieshiding.Ipeekroundthecornersofthesmallchamber,movefurtherin.AndthenIhearthedoorshutbehindme.Gabrielhaslockedmeinandtakentherarestbutterflyintheworld.

WhyamInotsurprised?

Idon’tknowhowmany

daysithasbeenbutIamdying.Thepictureonthewallkeepstalkingtome.Itwantstowearmyskin.Itryandfillmymindwithmygirls:

Pearl-queen

Cabbage-eater

Blueemperor

Dancingflames

Jester-bells

Toad-eye

Devil’sfinger

Meadowsweet

Maiden-kiss

Butter-shark

Littleboyblue

Theyflickeroffmytonguelikespit.

Angel-Eater.Thebiggest.

Itellthepictureonthewallmyname.ItellhimbeforeIforgetit.Helikesmyname.

Helikesmyskin.Iamforgettingthenamesofthebutterflies.Istarttohallucinate.Ihaveturnedintoabutterflyandglideaboutmytomb.Iamajester-bell,brownasaleafinautumnwithlittleredsplodgesonmywings.Iamalittlebutterfly,quickmovinganddelicateasawispofsmoke.SeehowhighIcanfly!Andthendrop,deepandlowandskimthe

prisonfloor,mytinywingsbrushingitlikeaflowerpetalacrossacheek.ForamomentIamsohappy.Sodeliriouslyhappy.

BeforeIdiehecrawlsintome.Startstopeeloffmywings.

TheWedding

Myweddingdressisasblackasthestomachofademon.Aredsashisaroundmywaist.Atophatonmyhead,thecolourofliquorice.Butterfly

butterflybutterfly:mywingsaremycurvedsilverbladesconcealedwithinmyhigh-lacedboots.ShallIspreadmywingsforyou?

MrAngelcakesthinksIlookinteresting.Isay,shouldn’tabridelookbeautiful?HesaysIamnotanordinarybride.

MrLoveheartisthrowing

stonesatmywindow.Iopenitandpeerdownathim.Todayhe’sdressedinwhite,redheartslikelovebites.

“Don’tmarryhim,BooBoo!He’sincrediblydull.”

MrAngelcakesnodshisheadinagreement,hisskinwobblingslightly.

“Areyoustillgoingto

blowhimup?”Isay,curiously.

“I’mnotspoilingthesurprise,”hereplies.“ButIhavebeenconsideringbeatinghimtodeathwithhisownfoot.”

“Ilikethat,”MrAngelcakessays,“it’ssubtle,”andapieceofhisfacefallsoffontothefloor.

“He’stoooldforyou!”saysLoveheart,impalingawind-fallenappleonthepointofhisswordandexaminingit.

“He’samagicianandhewillturnyouintoabutterflyagain.”

“Ishallhavetodecapitatehimthen,mydarling,”andbowsverylow.

“Idohopeso,MrLoveheart,”andIshutthewindow.

Thecarriagearrivesformeinthecourtyard.Twoblackhorses,astheProfessorhadspecified,withredfeathersintheirmanes.MrAngelcakeskeepsmecompany.Heislookingforwardtotoday.Grinningtohimself,theskinroundhislipsdroopinglike

meltedwax.

“Youlookgoodenoughtoeat,”hesaysfiendishly.

Thecarriagemovesshakilyalongthewoodlandpath,judderingsoftlylikejellyonaplate.Asmallnoteformerestsontheseatofthecarriage:

MyDarlingBooBoo,

Myprizepossession,myAngel-Eater,isstayingwithafriendinLondon.Sheisinsafehands.IfeltitbesttomovehersinceDetectiveWaxford’scampaigntodestroymyreputation.Youwillserveasasufficientamusement

formeuntilIamreunitedwithher.

Yourdevoted,

Gabriel

“Ohdear,MrAngelcakes,youwon’tbegettingyourbutterflyjustyet.”

Thecarriagepullsuptothe

church,whichisdecoratedwithheapsofflame-redroses,evenonthetombstones.Amassacreofflowers.Outsidethechurch,IgnatiusHummingbirdawaitsme.Hewillbeescortingmedowntheaisle.

Thedoorstothechurchopen,revealingrowuponrowofmorebloodflowers.Thevicar,MrWormhole,stands

withtheProfessornearthealtar.Icanseemybrother,Pedrock,sittingwithMrsCharmandMrLoveheart.Behindthem,Grandpa,AuntGrubweedwithPrunella,EstelleandCornelius,andReverendPlumsmilingnervously.NexttothedoorisDetectiveWaxfordandstandingintheverycornerofthechurch,amanIhaveneverseenbefore,withan

eye-patchandblacktophat.

“Whoisthatman?”IaskIgnatiusaswewalkdowntheaisle.

“MrCobweb.Heisafriendofours.”

DetectiveWaxfordwithafacelikeagrumpygargoyleapproachesus.“MrIgnatiusHummingbird.Iamarresting

youforabductionandattemptedmurder.”

“Oh,DetectiveWaxford,you’remakingaverystupidmistake.”

Waxfordtakesouthishandcuffs,“EitheryoucomewillinglyorIshootyou,”andhewithdrawshisgunandaimsitatIgnatius’shead.

“Youwouldn’tdare.”

Waxfordpullsthetrigger.Piecesofbrainsplattermyface.Ignatiusfallstothefloorinaheap.Prunellascreams.MrLoveheartstandsupandwanderscasuallynexttothedetective,hisswordinonehand.

Thewallsofthechurchstarttocompress.Pillars

wobble.TheProfessor,brightredintheface,asthoughheisabouttoburstscreams;“Youcan’tkillmybrother,NONONO,”andstompshisfeet,“Youcan’thavemybutterfly,NONONO.”

MrCobwebshutsthechurchdoorsandstandsbythemlikeaguarddogfromhell,removingalongthinblade.

“Thisisbecomingquiteinteresting,”saysMrLoveheart.

Theguestsarestartingtorunforthedoor:thevicar,MrWormhole,nimblestonhisfeet,managestosqueezehimselfoutofthesidewindow.CorneliusrunstothedoorandishackeddownbyMrCobweb,limbsflyingoverWaxford’shead.

WaxfordshootsMrCobwebinthestomach,butCobwebremainsunhurtandstabsReverendPluminthethroat.

“What?”criesWaxfordstaringathisgun.

MrLoveheartthrowshisswordatProfessorHummingbird,pinninghimtothebackwalllikeoneofhisspecimens.Ipullthebutterfly

bladesfrommybootsandapproachmyfiancé.

MrCobwebhasPrunellabytheleg.HehacksitoffandthenstartschoppingupEstelle.MrsCharm,followingtheVicar,ispushingPedrockthroughthesidewindow.

Iapproachmyfiancé.

BANG!BANG!BANG!

Waxford’sgungoesoffagain,nodoubtstillshootingatMrCobweb.AfootfliespastWaxford’sheadandbouncesoffthepulpit.Waxfordisshouting,“Thisbloodyvillage!I’mretiringafterthiscase!”

TheProfessoristryingto

pulltheswordoutofhisheart.

“Mydarlingbutterfly.”

“WhereistheAngel-Eater?”Isay,mybladerestingagainsthisthroat.

“Somewhereyouwillnotfindit,sweetheart,”andhestartstolaugh.IseeMrsCharm’slegsgoingthrough

thewindowtohersafety.

MrLoveheartshootsMrCobwebinthebrain.

MrCobwebgrabsGrandpaandcutshisheadoff.AuntGrubweedstandsup,pickingupasmallangelstatue,andhitsMrCobwebovertheheadwithit.Hestaggers

aboutandthenslicesthetopofherheadoffwithhisblade.Hejumpsoutofthewindow,Waxfordshootingathim.

IlookagainattheProfessor.“Lastchance.”

MrAngelcakesisclappingandlaughing,“Suchfun,suchfun!”

TheProfessor,“I’mnot

tellingyou,youlittlebitch.”

“ButYOUmusttellher,”MrAngelcakespanics.“YOUmust.”

“NO,”hesays,andhewhispersawordofmagic.

Everyoneelseturnsintobutterflies.

Aheapofrainbowwingsflutteringabout.Somedeadonthefloor.IcanseeMrLoveheart;he’sacherry-glitterredonesoaringabovetheothers.Iamtransfixedbythismagic;Ismile,halfbewitched.

ProfessorHummingbirdpullstheswordoutofhisstomachandgrabsmebythehair.Thebutterfliessoarand

whizzroundus,swoopincircles,moveinspirals.

Hepresseshishandsroundmyhead,squeezesmyskull.

Iamonmyknees;Iampulledundertheweightsofhismagic.Ishutmyeyes;IshutmyeyesandIseehoveringinblackspace:theAngel-Eater.Huge,openingitswings.Abookturning

pages.

Mynameiswrittenonitswings.

TheProfessorkillsmewithakiss.Venom.Murdererofbutterflies.Itseepsthroughmyskin:blackinmyveins.Mystoryisending

AndIsee,IseetheredbutterflyofMrLoveheart

dazzleandfloatonair:theshapeofaheart.

Iraisemyblades.SlicetheProfessorinhalf.

Hisscreamisthesoundofglassbreaking.Thebutterfliesinhishouseareflyingoutoftheirconfines,awhirlwindofwingsbeatingatahundredmilesanhour.Thebutterfliesinthechurchturn

backintopeople.Hitthefloorwithathud.

Butthefavourite,theAngel-Eater,isstillbehindglass,andMrAngelcakesisweeping.

Deathhasarrived.

“Hello,BooBoo,”hesays,inavoicelikeliquidsilver.

Eyeslikeblackmirrorsandheholdsoutahandandhelpsmeoffthefloor.“You’dbettercomewithme.”

“No.”

“Excuseme?”

“Isaid‘no’.”

Hegrabsmebythearmandstartsdraggingmealongthefloor,butMrLoveheart

intervenessuddenlyandsweepsmeupinhisarmsandkissesme.

Timehasnomeaninganymore.Itiselectricity!Wearesparks!

“Whatdoyouthinkyouaredoing,Loveheart?”demandsaveryannoyedDeath.

“Iamsavingher,forIam

theLordoftheUnderworldandmykisswillbringthedeadbacktolife,”andhetakesabagofrhubarbandcustardsweetiesoutofhispocketandoffersmeone.

“Unbelievable!Iwillrequiresomecompensationforthisblatantdisregardforthenaturallaws.”

“Ofcourse,”smiles

Loveheartandoffershimaboiledsweet.

DetectiveWaxfordisbangingontheentranceofthechurch.

“Someoneopenthefuckingdoor!”heshouts.

MrsCharmopensobliges,“Ah!You’restillalive,detective.”

“There’sapileofdeadpeopleinhere!”hecries.

“Surelyit’snotthatbad,”shereplies,andweallturntoviewtheheapofbodypartssplatteredoverthechurchfloor.Waxfordwalksoutside,trippingupoverthedeadbodyofReverendPlumonthewayoutandcursingloudly.

MrLovehearttakesmyhand.“Ibelieveyouarenowavailableforcourtship.”

LoveheartandBooBoo

IhavetakenBooBoohomewithmetomyPalaceofHearts.Mylittleinsectqueen.

Allmyheartsareyours.

Sheplayswiththeheadsinmytrees,thosedanglingtrinkets.Shelickstheheart-shapedlollypops.

Wedrinkhotchocolate,danceroundmygardens.Ichaseherlikeabutterflywithanet.Jumpthroughhoopsforher.Thisiswhatloveis:itmakesalltheclocksgo

backwards,bringsthedeadbacktolife.Grave-leaping.Timebreaking.

Therosesinmygardensarelovebombs:theyareexploding.

WaitingforButterflies

Isleepinthebigbedofhearts,besideMrLoveheart.IdreamoftheAngel-Eateropeningherwingslikeaprayerbook.

WINGSAREPAGES.PAGESAREWINGS.README.

WORSHIPME

Shespeaks.“Youwillfindme.Youwillfindmebehindglass.”

Ispreadbutterflywingsonmytoast.

Openapotofmarmalade.

Talktomyknife.

IwonderwhetherIammadeofquestionmarks

??????????

PartThree

HousesofParliament

ZEDOCKHEAPEATINGABATTENBERG

I’vebeenthinkingaboutthatlittleprince,MrLoveheart,allday;hekeepspoppinginto

myheadforsomeunfathomablereason.Mmmmm.ItakeapieceoftheBattenbergandcrushitbetweenmyteeth.Succulentsqueeze.

Hangingonmyofficewall,abovemyheadistheAngel-Eater,abutterflyasblackasaholeinspace,asredasaheart.She’sbeatingherwings,tryingtogetout.Like

mywomenincages.Theyrefusetoaccepttheirconfinement;theyrefusetoaccepttheyaremyfood.

YOUAREACAKE,MYDARLING.SHOWMEYOURCREAM.

Iliketoconstructboundaries;Iliketoformedgesonspaces.KEEPYOUWITHINTHELINES.

Mymindisunsettledatthemoment;Ikeeptwiddlingmythumbs.

Aknockatthedoor.

“Comein,”Isay,yawning.

MrEvening-Starenters,hisvoiceaquiver,“Goodafternoon,PrimeMinister.Ihavecometoinformyouallthearrangementsareready

forthisevening.”

“Excellent,”Isigh.

“Ialsohavesomeratherbadnews,I’mafraid.IgnatiusandGabrielHummingbirdarebothdead.”

“Really?”Somethinginterestingatlast.

“Yes,amostunfortunateoccurrence.Slaughteredata

wedding.”

“Andwhokilledthem?”Ileanforwardandasuspicioncreepsintomythoughts.Asymbol,aheartonasstring,floatsinmyhead.

“Well,”herepliesnervously,“ItappearsIgnatiuswasshotintheheadbyaDetectiveWaxfordofScotlandYardforrefusingto

bearrested.”

“IlikethesoundofthispluckyDetectiveWaxford.”

“AndGabrielwasslicedinhalfbyhissixteenyearoldbride-to-be.AgirlnamedBooBoo.”

IglanceupattheAngel-Eaterintheframe.“Ahhh,thelittlebutterflygirl.Iwould

liketomeether.”

“Andanothergentlemanwasalsoinvolved:aMrLoveheart.MrCobwebinformsmethatthisMrLoveheartcanbringthedeadbacktolifewithakisswhichisquiteanunusualgift.ConsideringtheastronomicalmurderstatisticsinLondon,poweroverdeathwouldbeaformidableasset.Whyonly

thismorningIwitnessedamanhitovertheheadwithaprivydoor!”

Myheartstops.

“WHAT…Whatdidyousay?”Igasp.

“Privydoor.Apparently,accordingtoaninfamousandderangedlinguist,ofallthephrasesintheEnglish

language,‘Privydoor’isthemostbeautiful.”

Iheldhimupintheairbythethroat.

“Ah.”Hesqueezedthewordsout.“Iseethat’snottheinformationyourequired!”

“I’mwaiting,MrEvening-Star!”

“MrLoveheartcankissthedeadandbringthembacktolife.”

Iamshaking.“Thisisnotpossible,”andIdrophimonthefloorandgripthesidesofthedeskcompressingituntilitshatters.

“Sir?Doyouknowhim?”

“Ihavehadthecurious

pleasureofmeetinghim,”Ispitoutthewordsofboiledrage.

“Um,doyourequireanythingfromme,PrimeMinister?Acupofteaorperhapsanice,butteryegg?”Hecreepstowardsthedoor.

“GETOUTBEFOREIWHIPTHESKINOFFYOU!”

“Ofcourse,PrimeMinister,”aglassysmileonhislips;hedelicatelyshutsthedoor

slippingoutofexistence.

TheAngel-Eaterisbeatingitswingsintheframebehindme,pinthroughitsheart,tryingtobreakfree.

IcrushtheBattenberg

undermyfist.Pounditintotheremainsofthedesk.

LOVEHEART

SPLAT!

ZedockvisitstheBritishMuseum

AftermurderingtheBattenbergIslipoutintothestreetsofLondon;headtowardsthemuseum.Ineedalittlefreshair;itwillcalmthe

bubblingundermyskin,sooooothethepressure.IthinkaboutpullingMrLoveheart’sheadoffandsuckingonhisspinalcord.Littleprince,littleprince,youDAREstepintomyfairytale,youDAREtrytorearrangemystory.IamtheOGRE.TheMAN-EATER.

SURVIVALOFTHEFITTEST,MR

LOVEHEART,ANDIAMTHEBIGGEST

Ithinkaboutmywomenincages,screaming,beggingfortheirlives.MEAT.MEATMEAT.Thatisallyouareinmyworld.IthinkaboutthebottleofcherrywineIwillsuptonightwhenIeatoneofthem.Savourthevintage;uncorkandletitBREATHE.

IAMYOURPRIMEMINISTERANDYOUNEEDTO

FEEDMEENGLAND.

Mymoodisblack.

IchangethecolouroftheThamestomirrormythoughts.IcanshiftLondonintowhatevershapeIchoose.

Rippleandsludge.Simmerandboil.ImoveacrossLondon,pastthefilth,pasttheflesh,pastthestinkofyouall.Myfootstepsmarkthecity.Ileavemyimprint.Hellis,afterall,onlyafewinchesbelow.Canyoufeelthered?Canyoufeeltheheatunderyourfeet?

Iwalkintothebrightboxofspace.Ichangethecolour

ofthesky;aflashofgreenlightningstrikesStPaul’s.Unexpected!Imoveonwards.Mymoodasblackasdungeons.Loveheartonmymind.LOVEHEARTALWAYSONMYMIND.

ThecreaturesofLondonarewobblylines,somethingdrawnfromasketchbookwithcharcoal.Theycanbesmudgedout.Top-hatedrich

gentlemenaredeformedbird-menonthepaper.Bright-eyed,prettyladiesintheirrainbowdressesbecomescreamingtropicalbirds,fanningthemselvesandtwitteringnervously.Blackswirlsofcharcoal,nothingmore.

Andthoselower,darkerformsofLondon,thecreaturesoftheunderworld:

thefeeble,thehalfdeadwiththeirwretchedness,starvationandfilth,thecheapscentoflavenderonthegutter-pissgirls,theirblacktoothlessmouths,theenormousemptiness.

Acanvas.ThatisallyouareLondon.Acanvasformyartistry.HANDMEAPAINTBRUSH.Letmegiveyoualessonincreation.

Youopenyourmouthlikeamoney-box.You’llswallowwhatIgiveyou.

Thewhoresroundthehorsetrough,washingtheirthighs,tonguewagglinglies.Exhausted,worndown,swampedinsadness,theyclustertogether:amassofbruisedflesh,putridinsides,blacklungsandrottingbones.Thevastskyabovethem

swirlsandsimmers,savagegreen–thesoupyconcoctionofasorcerer.Iclickmyfingers.MAKETHEMMOVE.

Horseshitstuckbetweentheirswollentoes.Theystickfingersintheirmouths,counttheirremainingteeth.Abacksidepinchedbyagrubbyfacedrunk.Theyarethefoullittlespecimens.Iglidepast.I

AMTHESHARK.

IAMTHESHARK

Iambeingobservedbyamanwithporridgestainsonhiswaistcoat.Ihaveseenhimbefore.Hecomesoutinthedarkness.Yellowfingernails,leechfatfingers.Killerofwomen;girlsgomissingallthetime;slipofftheedgesoftheworld.Fallintoholes.

Istareintohim,makehimevaporate.MELTONTHESPOT.

Ileavehimbehind,movepastthebutchers,wherebloodysausageshanginsloppyribbonsfromahookinthewindow.ThebutcherexaminesmeasIpass:onebighairyhandclutchingaglitteringwetintestinalloop.

Meanderingthroughthemazeofsidealleys,Imakemywaytowardsthemuseum.Thesludge-brownstreetsarebobbingwithexcrement,bubblingfoulodours:thestenchoftanneries,pieshopsandsoap-boilers.IgazeintothecobwebbedwindowofaHocus-pocusden:seeahumanskullpaintedblue,andtinyfairy-sizecandlessizzlinginthedarkness.

Inside,hoveringoveradirtycrystalball,adecrepitlookinggentpeersgoggle-eyedintothefuture.Hewearsatatteredrobeofindigowithembroideredstars,nowfallingoff.Whatfuturedoeshesee?Whatother-worldscanheglimpse?

IAMFROMTHEOTHERWORLDS,FORTUNETELLER.

IAMFROMTHEUNDERNEATH.

ONLYANINCHAWAY.

Imovethroughthenarrowstreets,passingrowsofshops:smellpickles,deaddog,greencheesesandhotcider.Icouldgobbleupthelot.

Iamblisteringblack,blackerthanmidnight,blackerthanspace.

IAMTHESHARK

Themuseumgatesloomopen,thejawsofabeastcarvedinmarble.Theskyisfullofspiralsofmilkyclouds,whippedupwhite.Iturnthemgreen.Sourthepalette.

Iamanexecutionertoday,Iimagineathousandskullslieundermyfeet.

Loopsofenergyspinroundme,demonicatomscollidingandexploding.

Doyouwanttoknowwhatpoweris?

Ipickoutasmallgentlemaninthecrowdcarryingaheavypileofbooks.Hestaggersundertheirweight,wobblesonhisfeet.Ihavechosenhim.

Heexplodes;piecesofhisbodysplatteraschoolparty.Asmallchildholdsupaseveredarmwithdelight.Histeacher,drenchedinintestinaljuices,screams,“PUTTHAT

DOWNTHISINSTANT,PERCY!”

Percylooksdisappointed.That’seducationforyou.

Itipmyhatathim.

Percywavesbackandthenturnshisattentionaway,lookingforthehead.

Iaminaworldofskulls.Thepiecesofyou.

Itakeoffmycoat.Revealmywaistcoat,whichisquiteextraordinary:embroideredwithexquisitelizardsandbutterfliesinadazzleofaquaandcornflowerblues.Iamgettinghot.Ifeeltheboilinmyblood.

Youngwomendriftpast:

theysmellofbuttercups,bluebellsandraspberryjelly.Notreallymythingatall.Ilikemywomentotastelikefireworks.Meltinmyhands.Undermyweight.

AndherecomesthespindlycuratorUriahCushing,hunchedverylow,hiswordsamutteringwetness.“PrimeMinister,itisanhonourtoseeyou

again.”

Inod,acknowledgehisfeebleexistence.

“AndmayIsay,”heblitherson,“yourlastdonationtothemuseumwasconsiderable.”

He’sanervouslittlecreature,hooknosed,fearfulofpredators.Smellsof

somethingcabbagy.Everythinghastobelabelledandpositionedcarefullywithinwhitespacesinhisworld.Thewondrousandmagicalarestuffedintoglassjarsandcorked,sealedwithinavacuum.Nevertobereleased.

Ifollowhimupthegreatstonestepsintothemouthofthemuseum:myeyes

wanderingtotheheightsofthevastceilingwhere,hangingfromwireswithinthegloomydepths,thecompleteskeletonofagreatdinosaurisominouslysuspendedaboveus.Ilistenforthecreakofchains.Ilistenforthebreaking.

Wemoveintodarkindigospace.

“Ihaveaninterestinviewingthebottledmermaids,”IsaytoUriah,wholeadsmeuptheflightofstepstotheupperlevelofthemuseum.

Withinaglasscabinetsitsamonstrousstuffedfrog,observingquietly.

Withinthevelvetyblackshadowsofacornerofthe

exhibition,apickledgiantoctopusfloatsinajarofformaldehyde,aweirdcreatureofsurveillance.

Iimaginethecuratorstuffedandpreservedwithinacabinet.Thethoughtamusesme.

Uriahpointstothecabinet,“Herearethebeauties.”

BEAUTYBEAUTY

IHAVESEENSUPERNOVAS

YOURBEAUTYISAPIECEOF

SHRIVELLEDSKININAJAR.

Ipeeratthebottled

mermaids.Thereareadozenofthem,misshapenandpickled.Softgreenandpurple-veined.Theyhaveeyeslikehugewhitespaces,asthoughburiedunderdeepsnow.Iwanttopluckouttheireyeballs.Tastethem.

InmymindImovecharcoaloverthepaper,catchthem,thelittlefishwomen.Catchthemonpowdery

sheets,fingersblackwithdust.

NowIwanttolookatthedinosaur.Ilikeitsbones.Allcrackandsplinter.Iwanttofeelitsgreatteeth.Ilookoverthebalcony.Iseetwolittlegirls.Sweetasacustardtart.Iwanttoeatthemup.Theyarepartofaguidedtoursqueezingdownthenarrowcorridors,waftingastenchof

muttonfatandtobacco.IcanseethemummifiedPygmymidgets,withscissor-smiles.SnapSnapSnap.Teethbitingbone.Teethbitingbone.

AndthenIsmellhim.

LOVEHEART

Ipeeroverthebalcony;

he’swithintheguidedtour.He’swearinggreenwithredheartsexplodingalloverhiscoat.Andhe’swiththebutterflygirl.She’slikeabottledmermaid;she’sbeenpickledinaweirdformula.Iwanttostickmyfingersinherjar.She’scarryingweaponry!Unbelievable!You’dthinktherewouldbesomesortofsecurity.

Thetourguide,whoisahuncheddwarf,screams,“Andsohediedfromafesteringwound!”andthen“Ifwecanhurryalong,therearesomefascinatingexamplesofcannibalisminthenextroom.”

LoveheartlooksupandIspeakoverthetourguide.“Andifourpathscrosseveragain,MrLoveheart,ANDIF

OURPATHSEVERCROSSAGAIN,”andIbegintodescendthegreatstaircase.Thebottledmermaidsexplodeintheirjars.

Thebutterflygirlthrowsabladeatme.Itzizzes…impalesmytophattothewall.Iamimpressed!Iamlaughing.

Loveheart,BooBooandbottledmermaids

“Whatacoincidence!”Ishoutout,“WeJUSTkeeprunningintooneanother,”andIdrawmysword.

“YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITONMYBOOTTHATNEEDSREMOVING,”he

bellows.

BooBoolaunchesherselfupthestairsandleapsintotheair,bladeaimedathishead.

Hegrabsherbythethroatandpullshertotheground.

Asquickasawinkshespinsherbladeandsinksitintohisheart.

Hestaggersbackwards.Pullsthebladeout,“Youhavecompletelyruinedmywaistcoat!”andholdsherbythehairmid-air.

“LETHERGO!”Idemand.

“Orwhat!”helaughs.

Heclickshisfingers.Shedisappears.Reappearsbehind

himinsideaglasscabinetofthemermaids.Suspendedinwater.Bashingherfistsagainstmagicglass

“BOOBOO,”Ishoutandleapupthestairs.Hackintohim.

Thecuratorappears,“Gentleman!CouldIaskyoutodesist?”

Thedemonpullsthecurator’sheadoffwithhishands;itrollsdownthesteps,tomato-redsplatteringtheglasscoffin,withinwhichastuffedcrocodilesmirks.

Theguidedtourscreamsandsegments.Thetourguideglancesathisclipboardinbewilderment,theheadbouncesplayfullydownthestepsandrollsbyhisfeet.

Ismashtheglass,thewaterfallsoutandBooBootumblesintomyarms.Shecoughswater,gritsherteeth.

IAMLORDOFTHEUNDERWORLD.

Energiesloopandsizzle.

IAMOUTSIDEYOURRULES

Istabmyswordintothe

demon’sgut.Hegrabsme,pullsmeclosertohisface.“Iamhavingyoufordinner.”

Wedisappearinanexplosionofsparks.

TheHouseofZedockHeap

Iawakeonanimmensebloody-redvelvet-cushionedbed.IYAWN!

Theroomsmellsof

Turkishdelight.Iamasugarcube!IAMASUGARCUBE!

IwonderifIhaveIbeendrugged?

Iwasdreaming,Iremember.IwasdreamingIwasaLordoftheUnderworld.Mynamewaswrittenupsidedownonpaperstars.Eachoneapartofme.

Eachonedanglingongoldenthread;wobblingindeepspace.

PerhapsIhavebeendissected.Oooops!Ifalloffthebed.

Mylegsbuckleunder.Whereismysword?

Iholdthebedpost,propmyselfup.MynameisHeart.

MynameisHEART.Ihaveacat.Heisveryfat.Heisafatcat.Ilovemyfatcat.

I’minabedroom!Somuchred,ithurtsmyeyes.Thewallsaremadeupofrootswhichintertwinewithoneanotherandtheyaremoving.Thewallsarealive!Itouchthemandtheyswellandthenspiralinmyhand.Iexaminethedoorway–aredportal

withablackwetholeforalock.

Thisisaveryoddplaceandmybrainfeelsrathersoft.PerhapsIshouldhavealittlesleep,dreamoficingsugar,dreamofspacesmadeofsugar.

Agreatwaterymirrorhangsonthewallabovethebedanditshimmers.Icansee

sea-wormsandsmallopaquestarburst-fishswimwithinitsdepths.Istickmyhandintothemirrorandremoveit,drippingandglistening.Theloopingrootsbegintoentwinearoundmeandpullmeacrossthefloortothevastbedwhichsplitsopenlikeaflower.Ithasfangs!

Onasmalltablebythebedsitsasolitarybook.Ireach

forit,myfingersfondlingthecoverwhichismadewithhumanskin!Howverycurious!Thisbookmustbelongtoamadman!

TheVinegarDoctor

Thereisnoauthor.Iopen

atarandompage:

“Itexcitesyou,doesn’tit?”

ThisisindeedaveryODDthing.WhatwasthelastthingIrecall?Mmmmmm,IthinkIwastalkingtoabutterfly.Iwaskissingabutterfly.Isaw

ashark,Isawashark.ISAWASHARK.

Ipickanotherpage:

Blackasboilingnightfall.Unripefruitshunglikepoisonousgifts,lustrousgreens,other-worldly

blues,beetleblacks,devilreds,pomegranate.

Whosebedroomisthis?SomesortofdemonIcanonlypresume.Mymindisalittlemuddled,aspooninthejam.

blood-orange

blood-orangeblood-orange

blood-orangeblood-orangeblood-orangeblood-

orange

Braindamageperhaps?AmIinsideafairytale?IFSO,whoamI?Iamtheblack-

eyedprince.Iamthethingthatkillsthewickedmagician.IAMTHELORDOFTHEDEAD.Ireanimateyou!

Comehereandgivemeakiss.

IrecallIatericepuddingwithasplodgeofmarmalade

fordinner.

Insidetheforesttherearedeadshinycreatures.

IwonderifanyonewillbringmesupperforIamawfullyhungry.Perhapssometoast?Thicklybuttered.

Ieateeriebulging-eyedinsects.

AmIwithinadream.

Insideaspace,aroom,abrain?Tinyflowersofstarlight.IREMEMBER!MynameisJOHNandIlikecake.

Don’tbealarmed.Everyoneismadeofmarzipan.

Howcurious.Ipickanotherpage

Youwillhavetoeatyourwayout,MrLoveheart.

Orcuthisheadoff.

Aha!Abookthatishelping

me.Now,whereismysword?

You’restandingonit.

Ah!Yesofcourse.Thankyou.

You’rewelcome.

Ishutthebook.IthinkIamaPRINCE.Iamafairytale.Iamafairytale.Ilookinthemirroratmyface.Ihaveblackeyes.That,perhaps,isn’tquitenormal.

Imoveclosertothesurfaceofripple,uptothecurious

mirror.AmIademonprince?Ifeelmyheartbeat.Ifeelthethud,thespongythudthudthud.Iremembernow.Ah,Iunderstand,Iamabitbrokeninside.THUDTHUDTHUD

Iamquitemad.

THUDTHUDTHUD

Iamnotreallyhumananymore.Iwanttostepinside

themirror,wigglemytoesunderthewaters.BECOMELIQUID.

ACREAK!

Thedooropensandaqueer-lookingbutler,forheiswearingapinkturbanandholdingablowpipe,enters.

“MrLoveheart,youarerequiredfordinner,”andhe

shootsthepipe.Adarthitsmeinthethigh.

“Ifeelratherill-used!”Iproclaimbeforeitoozesintomybloodstream.Fizzing,wobblyjelly,wobblyjellywobblyjelly.

Ihearascreech,seehimbringinanoldironwheelchairwhichheplopsmeinto,squeaksmeoffdown

thecorridor.Intoadarknessthatoozes.Rathersplendidplumvelvetwallsdrippingwithsplodgesofvanillascentedwax.Lotsoftapestrieshangingabouttheplace,witherydithery!

“Idon’tbelieveIhaveanytapestriesatLoveheartManor,”Isaytothebutler,“Or,cometothinkonit,theremaybeoneofaninfamous

andweird-beardedancestorinthebasement.”

Thebutlerignoresme.

“Iamfeelingratherwooooooooozy.”

Iseetheprettypictures;aknightisbattlingagreatwhitecoiledworm.Poppyred,bonewhite,seaserpentgreen,Aztecgold.They

fizzleanddazzlemyhead.Eggysplatandgreenjellyflubber.Oohhanotherone.Amermaidthecolourofseaweedsplatandfoam.Shewriggles,shegiggles,fishtailquestionmark.

Isinkoutofthechair,stareatthecarpet,“ITISBLUE!”Ishriek.

Tapestrytapestry:black

dragon,amaidentiedtoatree,waitingtobedevoured.Sheissmiling.Howextraordinary!

FairytalefairytalefairytalefairytaleSPRUNGtolife!leapfromthewalls!

IAMWITHINAFAIRYTALE

Thewheelchairsqueaks,

“ANDTHECARPETISBLUE!”

TAPESTRYtapestrytapestry:thistimeamagicianinatophatspeckledwithstars,sawinginhalfagirlconfinedwithinamagicbox.

“MAGICBOX!”Ishout,“MAGICBOX.”Abovehimhangsamoon,awaxegg.“IWOULDLIKESOME

CUSTARD.”

Thebutlersighswearilyandopensadoorintoadiningroom,aroomwithfoodonabigreddiningroomtable.Iseecustardtarts!macaroons,butterflycakes,spongefingers,gingerbread.Iwanttogobbleupthegoodies,suckmyfingersofsugar.

Thereisamanattheheadofthetable.Abigman.IKNOWHIM!HEISTHESHARK.

“Hello,MrShark!”andIwave.

Helookshappyandhiswordsarealljellysquishandcherryflavoured.Idon’tunderstand,butIwatchhislipsmove.Gumslikea

rubberyfish.Hehasgotabigspooninhishands.

Iamwheeledtothetable.Infrontofmeisabigtrifledish.

Thebutlerpoursmewine.Hesmellsofpeppermintandformaldehyde–corpsepreservationstink.

“Whyismyheadfunny?”I

Hislipsmoveandhiswordsmoveinajumble.“Demonicparalysis.Feeblesthebrain,MrLoveheart.Itaffectsanythingofourkind.”

“Ihaveafeeblebrain!”Iannounce,followedby,“MayIhaveabowloftrifleplease?”Ipointtothewallbehindhim.Iseeabig

butterflyinaframe.Itismoving.“Itisalive!”Ishout.

“Yes,ofcourse,”hesmiles–ohsomanyteeth–andstepsclosertome.Heeliminatesthespace.Iknowwhatthebutterflyis;itzapsintomybrain.

“BOOBOO,”Ishout,“BOOBOONEEDSTHATBUTTERFLY.”

“Sheisapredator,”hespeaks.“Isn’tshebeautiful?”Hetapstheglass.“Sheistheonlyoneintheworld.It’sfunnyhowyoudon’tappreciatesomethinguntilitisgone.Untilitisnomore.Willsomeonemissyou,MrLoveheart,whenyouareeaten?”

“Ibelievemycatwouldmissme.”Myheadrolls

backwards.Ontheceilingisdeepspace.Iseeplanetsdangle,ashootingstarwhizzzzespast.Cometscollide.Blacksparkleandawhiffofsulphur.

“Youhaveaveryunusualceiling!”Iremark.

Heputhishandonmyshoulder.“YouandIcancannotcoexist,MrLoveheart.

Thatisthewayofthings,thewayofsurvivalofthespecies.Youarethecompetitionandyouconcernmeandyet,youareinsane.Yourbrainisacauliflower.Whyshouldyouworryme?Madlittleprince!Hellhasdominionoverthisworld.Myqueen,theQueenofHell,isconqueringtheplanet,herarmies,hernavies,claimingnewterritories.Andshesits

onthethroneofEnglandandrulesalreadyaquarteroftheearth.Weareeatingyouuplittleworld.Wearegobblingyouup.Humans!Youareafoodsourceforus.Thatisallyouare.”

“Ihavetostopyou,”andmyheadisfizzzzzzingandItrytoliftmyswordbutIcan’t.

“Stopme?Youareafool.Yourheadisfullofsponge,”andhelaughs,richtreaclelaughter.Itsoaksintothewallpaper,slipsoverme.Heputshismouthclosetomyear,whispers,“Ihaveeatenstardust.Ittasteslikesugar.”

Weareinsideabookoffairytalesandthepagesareturningthemselves.Myheadfeelssoheavy,myheartisthe

THUDTHUDTHUD.

“Redisthecolourofmyheart”Ilaugh“REDREDREDRED,”andmyheadsagsandplopsintothetrifledish.

Ohdear.

Iamthemeltingblueofspace.IAMANASTEROID.

CATCHME!

RufusHazardtotherescue!

IhavejustleftMissPussywillow’sHouseofDelight.Whatasplendid

eveningthatwas.Iwaswhippedwithinaninchofmylifebyaspiritedmistressofthecato’ninetailscalledBigGertrude.Amostpleasanteveningitwasandanexcellentroastpeasantsupperatmyclubbeforehandwithamarvellousplumpuddingandcustard.Whatmorecanamanaskforthanagoodfloggingandadecentpudding?

WellBuggeration!Thatoddfellow,MrDeath,hasmaterialisedinfrontofme.

“MrHazard,Irequireyourassistance.MrLoveheartisinperil.”

“EGAD!PERILISMYMIDDLENAME!WhatcanIdotohelptheyoungwhelp?”

“Really?”

“Ofcourse,RufusPerilHazardatyourservice.”

“Doyouhaveyourmachetewithyou?”

Ismile,showmyteethandwhipmyoldtrustymachetefromitssheathonmyback.Itglimmersundermoonlight.

TWING!

“Excellent,theprime

ministerisabouttoeathim.Number7,FlumpetCourt.IneedtofindBooBoo.Canyoumanage?”

“FlumpetCourt,Iknowtheplace.Neverfear,MrDeath,I’llsortthatcadHeapoutandrescueLoveheart!”

Iarriveunderaboldmoonandknockbrisklyontherathersmartreddoor.A

suspiciouslookingbutlerwearingapinkturbanandholdingablowpipeopensthedoor.

“IamRufusHazardandIbelieveyouremployerhasFOULintentionstowardsaverydearfriendofmine,aMrLoveheart.Iunderstandheisbeingheldagainsthiswilland…WHATTHEHELLAREYOUDOING

WITHABLOWPIPE?”

Heshutsthedoorinmyface.THECAD!

Ishout,“DOORSDONOTSTOPRUFUSHAZARD!”beforeIbootitwithmyfoot.Thedoorfliesoffitshingesandcollapses.Istepovertheremainsofdoorandglareatthewhimperingbutlerwhotriestoblowpipeme!The

darthitsthewallandIswipemymachete,slicingthelegsoffthesnivellingcoward.Historsoglidespastme,andoutthedoorscreaming.

“THATISFORTRYINGTOBLOWPIPEME,YOUIMPERTINENTSCOUNDREL!”

Istormthecorridorandbootinthediningroomdoor,

appreciatingtheexcellenttapestriesandstuffedbadgeronthemantelpiece.ItisdifficulttoacquireexpertsintaxidermyinLondon.

MrLoveheartislyingfacedown,headinatrifledish.Theprimeministerloomsoverhimwithacuriousshapedspoon.

“STEPAWAYFROM

HIMORYOU’LLFEELMYBLADE,HEAP!”andIstickmyleguponthechairandswipetheblade;itglintsundercandlelight.

Theprimeministerlooksgenuinelysurprised.“Whothehellareyou?”

“RufusHazard.EarlofDerbyshire,andthat,Ibelieveisabrainspoon.”I

pointmyweaponryattheaccursedobject.

Heputsthespoondownonthetableandsighs.“Iamgoingtoskinyoualiveandthensuckyoureyeballsoutofyourhead.”

“TRYIT,SHIT-HEAP.IDAREYOU!”Iscream.

Thewallsofthehouse

squeeze,theceilingwobbles.

Adarthitstheprimeministerintheforehead.

BooBooisbehindme.

“BITCH!”hecries,andslumpstotheground.

MrLoveheartstirsandliftshishead,whichiscoveredincustard,andsmilesatme.“Rufus!Hello.IthinkIama

pudding!”

“Dearoldsock,takemyarm,”andIhelphimup.

BooBoopointsattheframedpictureofagiantbutterflyonthewall,“Rufus,getitforme!”

Istepcloserbuttheroomisfillingwithblood.Kneehigh,Iwadethroughtowardsthe

butterflybutthereistoomuchbloodanditisrising!

“BooBoo,wehavetogetoutquickly.”Toolate!Wearewashedawayonawavealongthecorridors,fastoutthedoorintothestreet.

Avoice,thatvillainZedock,soarsoverthebloodandhe’slaughing.Hahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahaha

Whatblackmagicisthis?AndbeforeIcanstepbackinsidetochopthevillain’sheadoffthehousevanishesinatidalwaveofblood.HITSUS.SLAPSUSABOUT.CarriesusdownthestreetsofLondon.FASTER,FASTER,FASTER.Itrytograbalamppostandfail,screamandgetdraggedasfastasabullet

acrossLondon.Oozeandfoulslopofred.Itgoesdownmymouth,intomyeyesandnose.IseeBooBoowhizzzpast–andisthatLoveheartfloatinginastarshapeinthedistance?

WearevomitedoutintoHydeParkinaviolentexplosionofred.

Iawakefacedown,disorientatedbyaparkbench.BooBooisshakingMrLoveheart,whoisstillsomewhatdeliriousandtalkingaboutjam.

Istandupandraisemymachete.“Thisisnotover,Heap.”

DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnutmeet

MrPoppy

WalnutandIareinSpitalfieldsoutsidetheMagicEmporium,andwe’rewonderingifMrInk-Squidmayhavesomeinformationonthebutterflysymbol.

Waxfordthinkshemightcomeinuseful.

“DidIevertellyouthatmygreatgrandfatherwasanamateurmagician,sir?”saysWalnut,scratchinghischin.

“Idon’tbelieveso,”Isigh.

“Well,hewas.Pulleddeadrabbitsoutofhishat.Triedtosawmygrandmotherinhalf.

HiscareerhadanuntimelyendingwhenthestagecollapsedatBrightonpierandheknockedhimselfunconscious.Heneverrecovered.Couldn’trememberwhohewas.”

“There’salwaysasilverliningineverycloudofmisfortune,”Ireply,openingthedoortotheMagicEmporium.Alarge,black-

beardedgentlemanstandsbehindthecounter.

“MrOttoInk-Squid?”

“Yes,”hereplies.

“MynameisDetectiveSergeantWhiteandthisisConstableWalnut.IbelieveyouhavealreadyspokentoDetectiveWaxford.Wewerehopingyoumightbeableto

helpuswithourinvestigation.”

MrInk-Squidnods.“Whatdoyouneed?”

“Weareinvestigatingthekidnappingofayoungwoman.Shewastransportedtoagentlemen’sclubbytheriverThamesandkeptinacage.Themembersofthisclubhadablackbutterfly

symbolontheirhands.WeneedtoknowwhatinformationyouhaveonanyunusualgroupsoperatingintheLondonarea.”

“Youmeancults?DoIknowofanycultsinLondon?”

“Yes,doyou?”

“Ihaveheardofthis

butterflycult.Butonlyheardrumours.Theyareoneofthemoreextremecultsandextremelydifficulttojoin.Iknowofamanwhoisinvolvedwiththemonalowerlevel.Hehelpsthemwithtransportation.”

“Youmeankidnapping?”

“Verylikely.He’sanundertaker.HisnameisMr

Poppy.Hisestablishmentisroundthecorner;there’susuallyafewcoffinsproppedupagainsttheshopwall.”

“Doyouhaveanyideawhatthisbutterflycultdowiththewomen?”

“Ireallydon’tknow.Idon’tliketothinkwhatthesepeoplegetupto,”Ink-Squidsays,sadly.

“Whathaveyouheardaboutthem?”

“I’veheardMrPoppygetsalotofmoneyfordisposingofthecorpses.”

WeleavetheMagicEmporiumandinafewhundredyardsfindMrPoppy’sundertakingestablishment.MrInk-Squidwasright,halfadozen

woodencoffinslinetheentrance,asthoughpillarsintotheunderworld.

“Thisisabitcreepy,”saysConstableWalnut.

“Deathisalwaysabitcreepy,Walnut.”

Weenterthegloomypremises,theblacklettersofMrPoppyaboveourheads,

malign,sinistermarks.Inside,averytallskeletalman,wearingablackundertaker’scoatandtophatwithapurplefeather,sitstakingteaandcrumpets.Helooksoverahundredyearsold,facewitheredaway,skinstretchedoverhisskulllikeparchment.Theremainingwhitewispsofhishairhanglikeloosethreadsfromunderhistophat.Helooksatus

suspiciouslywhilstdevouringtheremainderofhiscrumpet.

“So,whohasdied?”hesayschuckling.

“Possiblyyourreputation,”Ireply.

“Whoareyou?”hissmileremoved,wipingbutterfromhislips.

“DetectiveSergeantWhite

andConstableWalnut.We’dliketoaskyousomequestions.”

“I’mratherbusy,gentlemen.Comebacktomorrow,”andhestartseatinganothercrumpet.

“Whoisyouremployer,MrPoppy?”

“Iamtheowner,butI

supposemyemployerinabroadersensewouldbeDeath,”andhelooksveryamusedwithhimself.

“Veryfunny.WhatcanyoutellmeabouttheButterflyClub?”

MrPoppy’sfacestretchesintoice.“Neverheardofthem.”

“Really?Iwasunderthebeliefthatyougotridofthedeadbodiesforthem.”

“Rumoursain’tproof.”HesneersandthrowsacrumpetatWalnut’shead,whichboingsoffandoutthedoor.

“That’sassaultingapoliceofficer,”saysWalnut,andwhipsouthishandcuffs.

“ITHREWAFUCKINGCRUMPETATYOU,THATAIN’TASSAULT!”

“Assaultwithadeadlyweapon,”repliesWalnutapproachinghim.

“EXPLAINTOMEHOWACRUMPETISDEADLY?”screamsMrPoppyinexasperation.

Walnutpicksupthecrumpetandpuncheshiminthefacewithit.MrPoppyfallsoffhischairandliesonthefloorunmoving.

Iturn,quiteastonishedtoWalnut.“Sometimesyoureallysurpriseme.”

Hegrins.“Thankyou,sir.”

MrPoppyafterawhile

regainsconsciousnessandstandsuprathercreakilyandremovesapistolfromhisjacket.Pointsitatmyhead.

“Boys!”heshouts.Tworatherburlylookingmeat-headsappear.“Boys,”repeatsMrPoppy.

“Yes,Dad?”oneofthemreplies.

“Wehavealittleproblem.”

WalnutandIareescortedatgunpointintothebackroom,wheretwolargeblackcoffinsrest.

“Getin,”MrPoppysays,wagglingtheguninmyface.

“MrPoppy,”Isay,tryingtoreasonwithhim.

“Getin!”hescreeches.

Thecoffinlidshutswithagentleclick.MrPoppy’sfingerstapthesurface,hummingtohimself.Icanseenothing.Iamsubmergedininkyblackness.

IhearMrPoppy’stoad-croakingvoiceaboveme,“Sillypolicemen.Really,whatwereyouthinking?”

Afewhourspassandthen

Icanfeelthecoffinbeingliftedandthelidtappedagain.

“Detective…”MrPoppyislaughing.“You’reofftobeburied.AlovelylittlespotinStAugustine’schurchyard.Hahahaha.”

Ipoundmyfistsagainstthelid.“Releaseme!”

RufusHazard’sLondonResidence,

“Dumplings”,Mayfair

LOVEHEARTRECOVERS

OohIhadalittlesleep.Feelmuchbetternow.IamlyingonapinksofabeingfedbutteredteacakesandTurkishcoffee.

“Amanmusthavehisteacake,”saysRufusstuffingoneintohismouth.“Howareyoufeelingoldboy?Havethedrugswornoffyet?”

Myheadisafuzz.

“Ihavealwayshadthefeelingthattheprimeministerwasanunscrupulouscad!”sniffsRufus,andpassesmeateacakewithextrasplodgeofjam.

Ihaveafluffyblanketandcushionformyhead.BooBooisalsoeatingateacake,andreadingMrsCharm’snovelTheCannibalBishopofEdinburgh,whichIhave

heardisamurdermysterysetinasinisterAbbeyandinvolvesmissingmonksandasuspiciousgiganticshepherds’pie.

“Whenyoufeelbetter,youmustdecapitatethatwretchHeap.Givehimagoodthrashing.Unspeakablebadmannersleavingamanwithhisheadinabowloftrifle.”

Deathappearswithabasketoffruit.“Feelingbetter?”

“Ihaveaterribleheadacheandghastlyflashbacksaboutspoons,”Isayandbiteintotheteacake.

Deathhandsmeabanana.“GettoStAugustine’sChurchassoonaspossible.DetectiveWhiteand

ConstableWalnutareexperiencingaprematureburial.”

Totherescue!

StAugustine’sChurchistiny,decrepitandoverrunwithweeds.Apartfromthedeadbodyofavagrantlyingfacedownonthepath,theonlysourceofactivityisafuneral

servicewheretwocoffinsarebeingloweredintotheearthbytwolargeruffians.Abedraggledvicarisreadingamumbledsermon.Heappearstobedrunk.IgrabBooBoo’shand.

“Ithinkwe’vefoundthem!”Weapproachtheruffiansboldly.

“Hello,gentlemen,”Isay.

“Sowhoareyouburyingtoday?”

Thevicar,whoseeyesareredandbulging,beginstospeak,butbelchesratherloudlyinstead,tohisownmortification.

“Neverheardofthem,”Ireply.

“Openthecoffins,”Boo

Boosays,pointingherbladesatoneofthethugs.Helaughs,whichisoften,Ihavediscovered,amistakewithher.Oneofherbladesembedsitselfinhisbrainandhefallsasidelikeasackofpotatoes.Thevicarscreamslikealittlegirl.

“Openthecoffins,”sherepeatstotheotherthugwhoobedientlydoesasshe

requests.Shethenshootstheotherofherbladesintohisbrainlikeanarrow.

“Ooooooh,goodshot!”Icry,clappingmyhands.

ConstableWalnutandDetectiveWhiteemergefromtheirtombs,shakenbutsteady.IkeepaneyeontheVicar.

“Youshouldbeashamedofyourself.”

“Ihadnoideatheywerealive,”hereplies,nervously.

“Ohreally?”

Walnutwobblesandgripsaheadstoneforbalance.

“Areyoualright,Walnut?”asksBooBoo.

“Notreally.IthinkI’mhavingalittlepanicattack.”

“Breathedeep,constable!”DetectiveWhiteslapshimhardacrosstheback.“We’realive!”

“Thankyou,sir.Ifeellikesomeone’sdonesomethingfunnytomybrain.”Walnutpokeshisskull.“Havethey?”

“Iaskmyselfthatsamequestioneveryday,”Whitereplies,andthenlookstome,“Where’sWaxford?”

“He’shereinLondon.”

BooBooinformsthemofnaughtyZedockHeap’sdemonicandcannibalisticpersuasionandthathenowhaspossessionoftheAngel-Eater.

“Frankly,nothingsurprisesmeanymore,”sighsDetectiveWhite.

“Whowouldhaveexpectedthat!”saidWalnut,“Thatourveryownprimeministereatspeople.Well,it’snotnormal,isit?”

“Sometimesitamazesmethatyou’veneverbeenpromoted.Howmanyyears

haveyoubeenaconstable,Walnut?”saysDetectiveWhite.

“Well,ifyouincludethetenyearsIspenthangingonawall,metamorphosedintoaninsectbyapervertedsorcerer,aboutthirty-twoyears,sir.”

“Walnut,returntoDetectiveWaxfordandinformhimofwhathas

happenedandarrestthatdodgyvicar.BooBoo,Loveheart,youwillbothcomewithme.”

“Wherearewegoing?”asksBooBoo

“Toextractsomeinformationfromanundertaker,”hereplies.

DetectiveWhiteextractsbutterflyinformation

WehaveMrPoppytiedtoachairinhisbasementandI

punchhiminthefaceanditfeelswonderful.Hescreams,hisskullvibrating.LoveheartandBooBoostandeithersideofhim,holdinganarmeach.

“Let’sstartagain,shallwe?WhatdoyouknowabouttheButterflyClub?”

“Sodoff,”MrPoppysays.

“Oh,that’scharming.Such

badmanners,”tutsMrLoveheart.

Ipunchhimagain,agoodhardslog.“I’mwaiting,MrPoppy.”

Hestartstolaughrathermanically.

BooBooimpalesoneofherbladesinhisthigh.Hisscreamisear-drum

shattering.

“ThisisthelasttimeIamgoingtoaskyou,andthenI’mgoingtoletherchopyouup…understand?”

“Ionlycollect,”hesays,fearfully.

“Collectwhat?”

“Thewomen.Icollectthem.”

“WhereistheButterflyClub?”

“Idon’tknow.Please,Ijustpickupthebodies.”

“Fromwhere?”

“Bytheriver.There’sanoldtheatre,theDancingImp.Theydumpthebodiesonthestage.”

“Whenareyoucollecting

themnext?”

“Tomorrow.Midnight.”

“Whodoyoucollectthebodiesfrom?”

“MrCobweb.”

MrLoveheartissittingonthedesk,flickingidlythroughhisdiary.“OoOHonTuesdayhepurchasedashovel!”

IgnoringMrLoveheart,Icontinue,“IsZedockHeaptheleaderoftheButterflyClub?”

MrPoppygritshisteeth.“Idon’tknowwho’stheboss.”

“Whoelseisinvolved?”

“Idon’tknowanythingelse.You’lljusthavetokillme.”

BooBoosliceshisheadoff.Itbouncesagainstthewallandrollsoutoftheroom.

“Hemighthavehadsomeotherinformation,BooBoo!”Iscream.

GoodfortunesmilesonPedrock

AftertheweddingmassacreIinheritedtheentireGrubweedfortuneandestateasthe

remainingmalerelative.

MrCedricEvening-Star,thefamilylawyerwhohasbeenworkingonmybehalf,soldtheGrubweedfamilyhomeandhelpedmearrangethefuneralsforGrandpa,AuntGrubweed,Cornelius,PrunellaandEstelle.Ofcourse,MrWormholethevicarwasunabletoperformtheservicesonaccountof

himfleeingtheareainfearofhislife,soareplacement,calledMrFishwick,wasbroughtinfromanearbyvillage.Hedidaverynicejob.

MrsCharmdecidedtoleavethevillageofDarkwoundandismovingtoTintagelinCornwalltocontinuethephenomenalsuccessofherMedieval

Horrors.Sheleftmeseveralofherchutneyrecipesandaplotoutlineforhernextnovel,TheSeveredLeg.

IlefttheshipbuildingfirmofWinkhood&SonandhaveboughtmyselfanenormousboatwhichIhavenamedDragonfly.Iintendtosailacrosstheworldinit.Ihavesomuchtimebeforemeanditisallmyown.Indigo

watersandcotton-wool-cloudskiesofnothingness.MissPennySeashellandIaretobemarriedatseathisveryweek.Sheismy“someone”toshareallthisfreedomwith,allthiswonder.

WhilemysisterslicesupLondoninabutterflydanceofblades,Iamsailingawayintocalmness,intoanoceanofsleep.

MrAngelcakesinLondon

Iamhavingsuchfunhere.Suchfun!Iameatingskinandithasmademesomuch

stronger.Myrottingskinisnolongerrotting.Nomorebrownteeth,greenlipsandheapsofsquashed,mushyintestines.

IcanmoveaboutLondonasagentleman.Strawberryblondhair,ice-creamsmile,brighteyes,tophat.Iamtallandrespectablelooking.Iamrecovered,Iamwholeagain.

ButtheonlythingIcaneatareskins.Mydietaryrequirementshavemademeaserialkiller.Icatchthematnight.Hookthemundermyarmsinback-alleys.Enticethemwithgoldcoins.Watchthemwriggle,squirmandsquealwithhorrorintheink-splatdarkness.

“Don’teatthat!It’salive!”

IeatandIwait.IamwaitingforBooBootoretrievetheAngel-Eater.Itwillbereturnedtome.Andalso,Isuppose,Imissher.Mylittlebutterfly.

little

butter

DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnutintheRomneyMarsh

TheRomneyMarshlandsaredottedwithsoftandsilvermothsthatflyroundourcarriage.OnelandsonConstableWalnut’shandandsticksitselftohimaffectionately.

DetectiveWaxfordandBooBooaretostayinLondonandinvestigatethe

DancingImpTheatrewhileIandWalnutarehereonthemarshlandstoviewtheHummingbirdfamilyhomeandseeifwecangetanyfurtherinformationregardingthecase.MrLovehearthastakenituponhimselftolocateMrAngelcakes,amanneitherDetectiveWaxfordormyselfhaveyetencountered,butwhoisleavingatrailofcorpsesthroughoutLondon–

withouttheirskins.

HummingbirdManorHouseliesintheremotestpartofthemarshlands.Atinychurchsurroundedbyplumpsheepsitsahalfmileawayfromit.Asourcarriagepullsuptothemaingates,aeweraisesherheadfromgrazingandstaresatusratherintently,eyeballslikesoftboiledeggs.

“Thatsheep’slookingatme!”Walnutsays,ratherworriedly.

“Don’tencourageher,”Isigh,andwestepfromthecarriage.

HummingbirdManorisalargesandy-colouredhouse,plainfeaturedbutwithalargestonebutterflyengravedoverthemaindoor.Anelderly

butlerappearsfromthesideentrancetrundlingasuitcasewithwhatappearstobeallhisbelongings.

“Hellothere.IamDetectiveSergeantWhitefromScotlandYardandthisisConstableWalnut.Ihaveawarranttoinspectthehouse.”

Thebutler–whoseface,oncloserinspection,resemblesa

turnip–sneers.“Therebenoonetoshowyeaboutthehouse.Themasterisdead.Servantsgone.I’mofftoo.”

“That’sfine.Ifyoucanjustgivemethekey.ItsavesWalnutfromkickinginthedoor.”

Thebutlerremovesalargerusty-lookingkeyfromhiscoatpocketandhandsitto

“IfImayaskyousomequestionsbeforeyouleave?”

“Idon’tknownoffin,”hereplies.

“We’llsee.What’syourname?”

“ThangusItch.”

“Sorry?”

“ThangusItch,”herepeats.

“Unusual.HowlonghaveyouworkedforIgnatiusHummingbird?”

“Ihavebeenthebutlerinthishousesincetheboyswereborn.Nearlysixtyyears.”

“Wearecurrentlyinvestigatingacasewhich

involvesIgnatiusHummingbirdandthekidnappingofwomenforacultinLondon.Itseemshekeptalocalwomaninacageinhisbasement.Doyouknowanythingaboutthis?”

“Idon’tknownoffinaboutthat.”

“Neverseenanythingsuspicious?Womenbeing

draggedintocarriages,screaming,himhittingthemovertheheadtoknockthemunconscious?”

“Nope.”

“AnythingyoucantellmeaboutIgnatiusatall?”

“Masterkepthimselftohimself.”

“That’sincrediblyhelpful,”

Isaysourly.“HaveyoueverheardoftheButterflyClub?”

“Nope.”

“OnemorethingMrItch.Iwouldliketoinspectyourluggagebeforeyouleavethepremises.”

Helooksstartled.“Why?”

“Youmighthavenickedsomething,”Walnut

interjects.

“Iain’tlettingyoupokeyournoseintomystuff.”MrItchspitsontheground.

“Walnut,holdhimfastwhileItakealook.”WalnutgrabsthebutlerbythescruffofhisneckwhileIopenthecase.Ahumanfootrestsneatlyontopofapileoflaundry.

“Wouldyouliketoexplainwhythereisahumanfootinyourbag?”

“Nope.”

“Walnut,handcuffhimtothecarriagewhilewesearchtherestofthehouse.”

“Withpleasure,sir!”

Ienterthekeyintothelockandturnit.Thedoorswings

gentlyopentorevealasombre-lookinginterior.AhugeportraitofIgnatiusandGabrielHummingbirdstandsinthehallwayglaringdownuponme.BehindthemisanAztectemple,surroundedbybutterflies.Itisabizarrepainting.

ThangusItchislaughingloudlyfromoutside.

“Shutit!”Walnutshouts.

“Ticktock!”MrItchshoutsmanicallyback.

Ipause.“Whatdoeshemean,ticktock?”

“Bomb,”saysWalnut.

Werunoutside.Thehouseexplodes,thefrontdoorflyingoffandbouncingagainstThangusItch,

flatteninghim.IamthrownintothegatesandWalnutfliespastmeintothefield,landingnexttothesheep.Thehouseisaninferno,theairfilledwithdustspreadingoutintothemarshlands.

WhenIregainconsciousnessIwaketoseethesheeplickingWalnut’sface.

“Areyoualright,Walnut?”Ishout.

“Yes,sir,”hereplies.

Istandup.Thereisnothingleftofthehouse.ThangusItchisdead,squashedbythedoor.IwalkovertoWalnutwhoissittingnexttotheinsolentlumpofasheep.Iextendahandtohimandhelphimupfromtheground.

“So,what’stheplan,sir?”

Ilookaroundusandoutatthemarshlands.

“We’llsearchthatchurchoverthere,”Isay,pointingafinger,“andthenwereturntoLondon.”

Thepairofus,halfblownup,strollthehalfmileoverthemarshlandsthrough

grazingsheepandbrownandgreybutterflies,whichswoopdelicatelyoverourheads.Theearthissoftunderourfeet,thesquidgeandsquashofbogland.Thechurchistiny,paintedwhite,withahugekeyholeinthedoor.ThekeytotheHummingbirdManorHouseisstillinmypocket.Itfitsperfectlyintothechurchlock.

“AsIthought,thischurchbelongstotheHummingbirdfamily.Wemayfindaclueyet,Walnut.”

Thedoorswingsopen.

“OhmyGod.”

Walnutfaints.Anearbysheepbleatsrathersarcastically.

Thechurchisstuffedtothe

brimwithskeletonsanddecayingbodyparts.Greenfleshhangingoff,leakingeyesockets.Thestenchisunbearable.Itnearlyknocksmeover.Igagandfeeldizzy.

Androundthewallsofthechurcharepaintedbutterfliesofathousanddifferentcolours,eachoneglitteringwithalienbeauty.Ishutthedoorandpassoutinan

undignifiedheaponthegrass.

DetectiveWaxfordandBooBooinvestigatetheDancingImp

Theatre

It’snearlymidnight.BooBoo

andIarehidingbehindthestagecurtainoftheDancingImpTheatre.I’vegotmygunandthelittleladyhasherblades.Thetheatreisaruin,thewallshalfcollapsed.AtattyposterofAMidsummer’sNightDream,starringLavenderCharmasTitania,hangsoffthewall.

I’msureDetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnut’s

investigationsintheRomneyMarshhavebeenuneventful.Nothingtherebutaloadofsheep.

Suddenlythere’sanoisefromthesideofthetheatre:thesoundofacarriage.Andinsteptwomencarryingabody,andbehindthemtheeye-patchedMrCobweborderingthemabout.Themendumpthebodyonthe

stageandthengoofftoretrieveanother.

Thebodyisofayoungwoman.Herchesthasbeencutopen.Anemptyredspacewhereherheartshouldbe.

IsignaltoBooBooandwestepoutontothestage.IaimmygunatMrCobweb’shead.BooBoolaunchesherblades,oneeachlandingin

theforeheadoffthehiredthugs.Theyfalltothegroundratherneatly.Shestepslightlyovertothemandpullsthebladesout,pressingherfootagainsttheirskullsasleverage;slightlydisturbingconsideringshe’sonlysixteen.

“MrCobweb,”Isay.“Nicetoseeyouagain.Fanofthetheatre,areyou?”

MrCobweb,alittlesurprised,says,“Shit.”

“Wouldyoucaretoexplaintomethecorpseonthestage?”

“Notespecially.”

Ishoothiminthekneeandhescreams.

“Let’strythatagain,shallwe?”BooBoostandsnextto

him,herbladegentlytappinghisshoulder.

“BooBooandIwouldverymuchliketovisittheButterflyClubandIbelieveyouwillbetakingusthere.Orshe’llchopyourarmsoff.”

“Thisisreallyapointlessexercise,DetectiveWaxford.Youhavenoideawhatyou’re

gettingyourselfinto.Torturemeallyouwish…”

BooBoosliceshisarmoff.Itplumpstothefloor.

“Therewasreallynoneedforthat!”hesaysthroughgrittedteeth.

“WhereistheButterflyClub?”Iaskagain.

“Thisisridiculous.”

“It’snotmyarmlyingonthefloor.”

BooBooplacesherbladeonhisotherarm.

“Stopthat!”’hecries.

“Iamlosingmypatience.YouknowwhatIwant,MrCobweb?Iwanttoretiretoanicelittlecottageinthecountryside.Relax.Writemy

memoirs.Maybegetacat.BeforeIcandothat,MrCobweb,Ihavetoprovidejusticetothispoorwoman,”(andIlooktowardsthestage)“andthecountlessotherwomenbeingkidnappedandmurderedbyyourassociates.IfittakescuttingoffeverysinglepartofyouranatomytoretrievetheinformationIrequirethenIwilldoit.”

BooBooraisesherblade.

“HousesofParliament,”hesayssoftly.

“What?”

“TheButterflyClubisunderneaththeHousesofParliament.”

PartFour

TheButterflyClub

HOUSESOFPARLIAMENT,1889

It’safullmoontonight.WhyamInotsurprised?Lightningcracksacrossthesky,explodingandsizzlingachurchrooftop.TheLondon

nightscapeboilsaboveourheads.

MrCobweb,BooBooandIaredressedinblackhoodedrobesandweareoutsidetheentrancetotheButterflyClub,situatedunderneaththeHousesofParliament.IhavemygunagainstMrCobweb’sbackincasehetriesanyfunnybusiness.IneverthoughtIwouldseetheday

whenIwouldbedresseduplookinglikethis.It’sfranklybloodyembarrassing.Infiltratingacult!

Anenormousbare-chestedmanguardstheentrance.Hemustbethesizeofatree.

“Goodevening,MrCobweb,”hesays,tippinghishat.

MrCobwebnods.“Ihavesomeguestswithmethisevening.”

“Verygood,sir,”andheletsusthrough.IamhopingnoonenoticesMrCobwebhasonlyonearm.WeleftitintheDancingImpTheatre,lyingonthefloor.

Weenteralongcandlelitcorridorandbegintodescend

aseriesofwindingstairswhichspiralsfarintotheearth,undertheThames.Onthewalls,aseriesoftinybluebutterfliesdanceandshimmerinspirals.Icanhearfaintmusicandchantingdeepbeneathus.

“Youdounderstand,”saysMrCobweb,“whentheyrealisewhoyoubothare,they’llprobablyeatyou

alive.”

Islaphimroundthebackofhishoodedhead.“Noone’seatingmetonight.EspeciallywhileI’mwearingthisstupidrobe.”

“Ithinkyoulookratherfetching,DetectiveWaxford,”saysBooBoo.

“Ican’ttakemyself

seriouslywearingthis.”

“Ifyouwanttoblendin,you’llhavetochant,”MrCobwebinterjects.

Islaphimroundthebackoftheheadagain.

“Suityourself.”

Furtherandfurtherdownwego.Thewallsarecoldstone,thebutterfliesare

intermingledwithbloodyhandprints.Thechantingbecomeslouder,themusicsomesortofhypnoticrepetition.AndfinallyweemergeintowhatIcanonlydescribeasanenormousAztectemple,thesizeofStPaul’sCathedral.Theremustbefivehundredhoodedrobedfiguresswayingandchanting;aseaofblack.Atthefarendofthisbizarretemple,ahuge

stonealtarsoakedinblood.Andsittingbehind,onathroneofhumanskulls,sitstheprimeminister,ZedockHeap.AbovehisheadtheAngel-Eater,withapinthroughitsheart.Itswingsbeatfrantically.

“Wellbuggerme!”Isay.“Theleaderofthisdementedcultistheprimeminister.”

“Ithoughtyouwouldhaveguessedbynow,”saysMrCobweb,adjustinghishood.

“IhavetoarresttheBritishprimeministerforrunningadeathcult.I’mnevergoingtogetmypension.”

“Probablynot.”

“Whythehellisheeveninvolved?”

“He’saverypowerfuldemon.Heeatshumanhearts;theyincreasehispower.”

“Didn’tLovehearttellyou?”saysBooBoo.

“NO,HEDIDNOTTELLMETHEPRIMEMINISTERWASADEMON.Ibloodyvotedforhim!”

“Wealldid.”

“Whyareallthesepeopleevenhere?”

“It’sabitliketheMasons,really,”MrCobwebcontinueshappily.

Islaphimroundthebackoftheheadagain.“It’snothinglikethefuckingMasons.Theydon’tkillpeopleandeatbodyparts!”

“DetectiveWaxford,”saysBooBoo.“Pleasecanyoufreethebutterflyforme?”andshepointstotheAngel-Eater.

“I’lltry,sweetheart.I’minshockatthemoment.”

Wemovetotheverybackofthetemple,nearanenormouspillar.Roundthewallsarehuge,weird

paintingsoftheAngel-Eaterbutterfly,liquoriceblack-winged,soaringovertheceiling.

Andthenwehearascreamandayoungwomanisdraggedfromthebackofthetempleandpulledontothealtarandtieddown.ZedockHeaprisesfromhisthrone,movingtowardsher,ablackdaggerinhishands.

Thereisnotimeleft.

Ishootmypistolattheceiling.Allfivehundredhoodedfiguresturn,gazingatme.ZedockHeapraiseshishead,curious.

“IamDetectiveWaxfordofScotlandYardandyou’reallnicked!”

BooBoouncoversherbladesandpositionsherselfinfrontofme.MrCobwebcreepsaside.AndthenZedockHeap,smilingtohimself,shoutsacrossthetemple.

“COMETOME,”hesaysandthewallsshake,oozeblood.

Ishoutback:“BooBoo,

WIPETHEFLOORWITHTHEM!”

DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnut

infiltratetheButterflyClub

WalnutandIhavejust

returnedtoScotlandYardwhereanotehasbeenpinnedtomydesk.

Percival,

ButterflyClubunderHousesofParliament.BooBooandIalreadythere.QUITEPOSSIBLYDEAD.HurryUp.

Waxford

“Let’sgettoit,Walnut!”

“Yes,sir!”

Weraceoutsideandhailthenearestcabbie.“Quickasyoucan.HousesofParliament.”

“Yes,guv’ner.”

OurcarriageracesalongthestreetsofLondon.Themoonisfulltonightandwicked.

“Eventfuldaysofar,”saysWalnut.

Iloadmypistol.WalnutholdsupthehandgrenadeMrLoveheartgavehimforChristmas,shapedlikeapotato,alittleredheart

paintedonit.

“Couldproveuseful,”hesays.

ThecabbiedropsusoffandwecircleroundthebackoftheHousesofParliamenttowhereanenormousmanstandsguardingasmalldoor,obscuredfromviewbytheshadows.Weapproachhim.

“CanIhelpyougentlemen?”hesays,carefully.

“Openthedoor.IamDetectiveSergeantWhiteandIaminvestigatingaseriesofmurders.”

“No,”herepliescoolly.

Itakemypistolout.“Earliertodaymyconstable

andIwereblownup.I’mnotinthemoodfortheword‘no’tonight.”

“You’llhavetoshootme.”

“Fairenough.”AndsoIdo,albeitintheleg.

Weenterthebuildingandfollowthestaircasedownwards,followingthenoisesofscreamingand

gunfire.Finallyweentertheenormoustemple.Abodypart(Ican’tdistinguishexactlywhatpart)fliespastmyhead.WalnutandIstandthereforamoment,dumbfounded.

Waxfordrunstowardsthealtar,shootinghoodedfiguresleftrightandcentre.Wehearhimswearingloudlyandasheproceedstopushhisway

towardswhatappearstobe–

“That’stheprimeminister,”saysWalnut,interruptingmythoughts.“AnditlookslikeDetectiveWaxfordisattemptingtoshoothim.”

BooBooisslicingherwaythroughamassofblackhoodedbodies.Thefloorissoakedwithbloodandbody

parts.It’slikewatchingadementedbutterflysoarabout.

“She’sverygraceful,”saysWalnut,asBooBooslicesanacolyteinhalf.Webothduckastheupperhalfofthebodyisthrownscreamingtowardsus,hittingthewallwithanundignifiedthud.

DetectiveWaxfordand

BooBooarenowatthefarendofthetemple,eithersideofZedockHeap.TheremainingmassofcrazedblackhoodedfiguresstartsrunningtowardsWalnutandme.

Iraisemypistolandaim.

Walnuttakesoutthepin,throwsthehandgrenade.

MrLoveheartversusMrAngelcakes

Wellit’salovelyeveningforhuntingdownMr

Angelcakes.Milkandbutterstars,acheesecakemoon.AndI’mdressedinaratherfetchingshadeofpeach.IcansmellMrAngelcakes:blackslimeandglitterdust.Thesmellofamagicdeadthing.

Followthetrailofeatenskins.

Iseemtohaveendedupdownafish-stinkalleyroundthebackofapub.Agroupofvegetable-facedmen–flatcapsandbigporkhands–eyeballingme.

“Queer!”oneofthemshouts.

“Excuseme?”Ireply.

“Youheardme,you

weirdo,”thethingwithapotatoheadreplies.

Iwalkuptothem,agroupoffourhuddledtogether,tobacco-brownteeth,yelloweyes,asmanyteethasbraincells.

“Wereyouattemptingtoinsultme?”

“Slingyourhookoryou’ll

getaslap.”

Ipullmysilverpistoloutandrestitonhisforehead.“Andyouwillfeelyourbrainalloverthewall.”

Oneofthempicksuparockandtriestosneakupbehindme.

Ileavethemalldeadinthealleyway.

Whoops.

Higgledy-piggledy,zig-zaggingsidealleys.ImovetowardsthetreacleoozeriverandthenIseehim.He’sstandingoverthebodyofaman,devouringaskin.Bloodsplatteredalldownhislovelywaistcoat.

“Hello,MrAngelcakes.”

Helooksatmeratherstrangely.

“HelloMrLoveheart.”

“IseeyouareenjoyingyourtimeinLondon.Thecapitaldoeshavealottooffer.Excellenttheatre,fashionandsightseeing,andofcourseoccasional

cannibalism.”

“Ilikeyourskin.”

“I’mafraidI’mratherattachedtoit.”

“Ilikeyourskin,”andhestepsclosertome

Ihavealittlehomemadebombinmypocket.Ithasaredloveheartonit.Abomboflove.

Igrabholdofhim.Shoveitintohismouth.

Ticketytock!

Heexplodes.Alloverme!Completelyruinedmypeachwaistcoat.Whatamess!Ipeeloffalargepieceofgreenishskinwhichislyingovermyfaceandplopitontothefloor.Imakemywayoutofthelittledarkalley.

AndthenDeathappears.

“MrLoveheart.Ifyoucouldjustrunalittleerrandforme?”

“DoIhavetimetochangefirst?Ineedalittlefresheningup,”Isay,brushingwhatappearstobeaneyeballhangingfrommysleeve.

“No.”

“Fine,”Isaysulkily.

“GettotheHouseofParliament.ZedockHeap’srunningacult.”

“Doyouknowhowdifficultitistofindacabthistimeofnight!”

Alightningbolthitsthestreetandpuff!Amagnificent

whitehorse,aswhiteasice-creamdreams,suddenlyappearsnexttoDeath.

“Getonthehorse,MrLoveheart.Bethehero.”

Ipatthehorse’snoseandhewhinnies.“Andhowdidyouacquirethissupernaturalhorseexactly?”

“Iborrowedhim,”sighs

Death.

“Fromwhom?”

“Theoldgods.”

“Youmeanyou’vestolenhim.”

“Borrowed!”repeatsDeath,exasperated.

“Verywell.Iacceptyourproposal.”

“Getonthehorse,MrLoveheart.”

AndsoIdo.“Doyouwanttocomewithme?Havesomefun?”

“No.Iamalreadystretchingtherulesforyou,Loveheart.And,frankly,I’mknackered.”

RidingacrossLondononawhitehorse.Thishorseissimplymarvellous.IgallopintothenightofLondon,downthestreets.Peoplestopandstare.Gogglewithdisbelief.Imustfizzlelikeweirdmagic.Ilooklikeaprincegallopingintotherattail,inksplodgeLondon,fasterandfaster.Eyesonstalks:theywatchuswhizzpast.

Iamlostdeepwithinthebookofafairytale.

Fizzywhizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

BooBooslicesanddices

Chopchopchoppitychop

chopchop

ZedockHeapandthebutterfly

Shereallyisimpressive.Littlekillingmachine.BUTTERFLYGIRL.She’skilledmostofmyfollowers,hackedthemupneatlylike

choppingcarrots.Apileoffeet,armsandheads.Shemoveslightningfast,ZOOMCHOPCHOPasthoughsuspendedonawire.I’veneverseenanythinglikeherbefore.MaybeIshouldsetheronfire.Orwhipheruplikeeggwhites.Makeameringueofher.

Abombhasjustexploded,myremainingfollowers

blownup,limbsscatteredoverthewallsofmytemple.Well,that’salittleembarrassing.

Andhereshecomes,thelittlebutterflylandinginfrontofme,andalongsideherarathermaniclookingDetectiveWaxfordaimingagunabovemyhead.HeshootsattheAngel-Eater;theglassshattersanditemerges.

LiquoricewingssoaracrosstheceilinganddivetowardsBooBoo.

Zoomintoher,likeaghost.Theymerge.

LIGHTNINGBOLT

She’shit.

She’sopeningherbladestome.Offeringmeanending.

“Nowthisreallyhasbeenfunbutthegameisover,”Ilookdownuponthemboth.

DetectiveWaxfordmovesclosertome.“ZedockHeap.Iamarrestingyouformassmurder,cannibalismandforrunninganunlicensedcult.”

“Youknow,I’mverygood

friendswithQueenVictoria.”

“That’sherproblem,”andheaimsthegunatmyhead.

“You’reallsoentertaining.”AndIliftDetectiveWaxfordintotheairandflinghimacrossmytemple.

“SHHHHHIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!

Hebouncesagainstapillar

andslithersintoacrumpledheaponthefloor.

Thebutterflygirlrunsherbladethroughme.Itfeelslikeatinyspiderkiss.Igrabherbythehairandpullhertome.Pullthebladeout.Holdittoherthroat.

DetectiveWaxford,stillalive,firesabulletintomyhead.

Isqueezethewallsofthetemple.They’reclosinginwithmymagic.Thetemplewobbling,theceilingbreakingapart.Iflingthebutterflygirlacrossthetemple,SMASHHERINTOTHEWALL.

AndIamlaughing.IAMLAUGHINGamidstthemountainofbodypartsandcorpses.

“IAMTHEMASTEROFYOU

ALL.”

Ahorsewhinnies.InridesMrLoveheartonagiganticwhitestallion.Well,there’sanentrance!“COMETO

ME,LITTLEPRINCE!”

LoveheartandZedock

Myhorsehasleaptintothetemple.Marvellousentrance,Iwagglemyswordabout.Oooooohlookattheheapsofdeadbodies!LOOKATTHEMESS.MARVELATTHE

Isliceupandfewmorenuttyacolytes.IridepastDetectiveWhiteandWalnutwhoarehidingbehindapillarandtheywaveatmeasIgalloppast.Afootfliespastmyhead!

TALLY-HO!

BooBooispickingherself

upoffthefloor,Waxfordlyingonthegroundsurroundedandshootingeverywhichway.

ZedockHeapissittinguponhisthroneofskullswaitingforme.Irideuptohisbloodiedaltarandpointmyswordathim.

“Andhereweareagain,MrLoveheart.”Heopenshishandslikeabook.Aretheremagicwordswrittenonhishands?

Myhorserearsandwhinniesappropriately.DAZZLEZAPSEETHESPARK!

Idismount.Iflashabrilliantsmile.“You’reabout

toretire,Zedock.Permanently,”Isay,andIslicemyswordthroughair,dismantlemolecules.

“COMETOME,”hegrins.“IEATLITTLEPRINCES.”

AndthenIseehimforwhathereallyis,Iseewhatisunderneathhisskin.Underthebonesofhim.I’veseenitsomanytimes.Insomany

things.Inaworldgonequitemad.

AndItellhim,“Wearethesame,Zedock.YouandI.Wearetheunderneath.Wearethesame.”AndIamsadbecauseIknowIammadanddangerous.IknowhowclosetohimIreallyam.Whatwouldittaketopushmeovertheedge,intohim,intohisspace?

“Cometome,littleprince,letmefeelyourmadness,”andheputshishandovermyheadandIlethimin,Ilethimunderstandme.

HEHOLDSMELIKEADADDY.

Hereadsmythoughts,seesmydreams.SeeswhatIammadeof.Theunderneathanditiselectricity.Itmakes

himshudder,unexpected.Itmakeshimquiver.ELECTRICALVOLTAGE.Hestaggersalittleundertheblastofit,andstaresatmedumfounded.

“Nowyouunderstand,”Isay.Ichophisheadoff.Watchitbouncedownthesteps.Boing!Bong!Splat!

Icanfeelhistoryreplay

itself;clocksmovebackwardsandthenjoltforward.Timelinesshifts.Butterfliesbreakoutofglassframesandwhizzintospace.Theworldliquidizes.Evaporates.Becomesair.

Thereissomuchscreaming.Bloodandbodyparts.AndyetIamelsewhere.Iamfaraway.Inthemeltofspace,onthe

edgesoftimelineswaitingfortheworldtore-form,spinagainanddissolveinafractionofasecond.Overandover.Roundandround.Thereisnoend.

IamtheLordoftheUnderworldandIwillalwaysbeontheedgeoftheworld.Iwillalwaysbeontheedges.

Ipeerthroughatelescope

andlaughatthedead.IlaughbecauseIseehumansouls;seethemflyintospace.Seethemburst.Turnintostars.

IliftbeautifulBooBooontomyhorse,kissher.MAKEHERMINE.

IholdtheheadofZedockHeapaloft.

ZedockHeapisasplatty

mess.Thetempleisaheapofbodyparts.

Waxfordiskickingthecorpse.

“DetectiveWaxford.Areyoualright?”

“I’mfuckingmarvellous,”andhekickshimagain,staringmad-eyeddownatthecorpse,“ZedockHeap–I’m

arrestingyou.”

DetectiveWhitethankfullyintervenesandputshisarmroundWaxford’sshoulder.“He’sdead,Waxford.It’sover.”

Ohdear,poorWaxford.Ithinkhe’sinshock.

IputmyarmsroundBooBoo.“Mylady,Ibelieveit’s

timeforustorideoffintothemoonlight.”

“Havewegotahappyending,MrLoveheart?”shesays.

“Ofcourse,Ihappentobeonverygoodtermswiththeauthoress.”

August1889

TheBagofTripePub,Whitechapel

Detective White has

organised a retirement partyfor Waxford. Isn’t thatcharming.

Thispub isacurioushole.Smells of meat pie andsomething dead. A gloomycavernof ragtagpickpockets,putrid corpse smugglers andScotlandYarddetectives.

Ihave,ofcourse,gotacardand a present forWaxford. I

inspect my thoughtful, well-chosen card, which has anillustration of a decapitatedheadonastick.Insideitreadsinbeautifulredink:

DearWaxford

Congratulations!Youarenotdead.

LovefromME&Boo

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ThepresentisapreservedstuffedfootIobtainedfromastudentmedicaldoctor.I’vewrappedapinkribbonrounditwithaheart-shapedgifttag.Hewillloveit!

It’s8pmwhenBooBoo

andIarriveinthisquaintlittlepartofWhitechapel.Acorpsedecomposesquietlyinabackalley.Themoonisaskylantern;thestarsa-fizzle.

Afewturnip-facedlocalslurkinthecornersofthisestablishment.Abow-leggedfolksingerhasbeenhiredfortheoccasion,singingasongaboutfishandbeardedmen.Hetapshisspindlyfoot

againstthefloor,beatingoutarhythm.Ithrowachairathim,knockinghimoutcoldwithasqueal.

RufusHazard,who’sleaningoverthebarchattingupthebarmaid,responds,ratherinebriated:“Goodshot,Loveheart!Iwasabouttopunchhimintheface.”

“Whatdoyouthinkyou’re

playingat,Loveheart?”shoutsWhite,who’sstandingwithWaxfordandWalnut.Walnut’sholdingascotcheggthesizeofaheadonacocktailstick.

“Whatdeviltryisthat?”Ipointmyswordatthescotchegg.

“Homemade,”smilesWalnut.

“Bywhom?”

Walnutpointsatthepublandlordwho’swipingapintglasswithadirtyrag.Hesmilesnervouslyatme.“Specialityofthepub.It’sperfectlynormal,Iswear!”

BooBoodrawsherblades.

Waxfordshouts,happyonwhisky,“Youtwostop

muckingabout.Comeoverhere.”

Aselectionoffingerfoodsliesacrossthebar.IsthatanotherscotcheggIspy?Mmm,somecuriouspotted-meatsandwichesandmini-quiches.Iinspectthemforbombs.

BooBoorunsovertoPedrockandhisfiancée,Miss

Seashell,whohaveappeared.Givesherbrotherabigcuddle.HehasamarvellousboatIhear,aninsectydelight.

IsneakuponWaxford,who’shelpingtheconcussedfolksingerrisefromthefloor.

“HappyRetirement.”Ihandhimthegift.

Helooksatitwithsuspicion.“MmmmwhatisTHISIwonder?”andunwrapsit.“Apreservedfoot!Howconsiderateofyou.”

Walnutpeersoverhisshoulder.“Symbolofgoodluck,thatis.”

“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”Waxford

shouts.

“It’swellknown,”Walnutcontinueswitharemarkablyseriousexpression,“thatinsomeprimitiveculturesafootwouldbehungoutsidethefrontdoortoencourageprosperity,aripeoldageandvirility.”

WaxfordslapsWalnutintheface.“STOPIT!I’m

surroundedbyinsanepeople.”

“Comenow,Waxford,”Ismilemybestsmile,“You’vehadfun.”

Waxfordputsthefootonthebar.Thebarmanexaminesitwithaconcernedinterested.“Whatareyoubloodylookingat?”hescreams.

DetectiveWhiteputshisarmonWaxford’sshoulder.“Weshallmissyou,Henry.”

Thefolksinger,whomI’vekeptmyeyeupon,hasremovedhimselftothecorneroftheroomandsheepishlysipshislimecordial.Ifhesomuchashums,Iwillbeathimtodeathwiththegiantscotchegg.

Rufusstaggersovertowardsmeandshouts“I’MWATCHINGYOU!”tothefolksinger,whosqueaksinfear.

“YouandI,”continuesRufus,pissedasanewt,“understandoneanother,dearboy.Webothhaveasensitiveappreciationofthearts.IoncesawamimeactinParis.Istrangledthefellowhalfto

deathwithmybarehands.Slipperybuggergotawaythroughaninvisiblewindow,buthelearntavaluablelessonthatday.”

“Whichwas?”DetectiveWhiteinterjects.

“NottoPRATaboutonthestreetsinaleotard.AsaproudEnglishman,Iwon’ttoleratethatnonsense.I

shouldhavetakenmybelttohisbackside.”

DetectiveWhitecoughsandraiseshispintglass.“ATOAST.ToHENRYWAXFORD,thefinestmanIhaveeverworkedwith.Thebravest.ScotlandYard’sbestandbrightest.ToWaxford!”

“WAXFORD,”weallsayandsinkbackourdrinks.

Thefolksingeropenshismouth.

“DON’TYOUDARE!”Rufuscries,andtakesoffhisbelt.Histrousersfalldownaroundhisankles.

Andtheyalllivedhappilyeverafter…

MRSCHARM

IhavejustreturnedfromabooksigninginEdinburgh.Lovelypeople,wonderfulshortbread.TheSeveredLeg,mymostrecentnovel,hasbeenamarvelloussuccess.IhavesentMrLoveheartseveralsignedcopiesofmybooksandhealwayssends

methemostcharminglettersback.

MyDearMrsCharm,

Asalways,youwoomewithyourwickedtales.‘TheSeveredLeg’isaparticularfavouriteofmine.Iwasespeciallyfondofthechapterwith

thejarsofSaints’toesinformaldehyde–whatabeautifultouch!

TodayIhavedecidedtoplayalittleprankonDetectiveWaxf♥rd.Iamwritingthisletterwhilsthidinginabushoutsidehiscottage.He’sretired,youknow–recoveringfromanervousbreakdowninthesleepy

villageofWugglethump,inKent.Hehasacattoo,calledMrLumpy–itisveryfatanditisstaringatmewithitsbeadyeyes!!!!

ImissDetectiveWaxford.

SoIamgoingtothrowacorpsethroughhiswindow.Idugoneup

fromthegraveyard.

Iwillletyouknowhowitgoes!

Love,yourdearfriend,

MrLoveheart♥

Oh,isn’theasweetie?Sothoughtful.

I’vegotanewbatchofchutneyonthestove:figandcherrywithadashofsage.Excellentcureforflatulence.IdoloveithereinTintagelandIhaveevenacquiredahandsomeadmirer,MrHoraceSunbeam,ared-hairedretiredProfessorofmedievalliterature.Heistakingmeoutforteaandcaketomorrow.TheVictoriaspongecakeisverygoodat

MrsGobble’sTearooms.Andhewritesmethemostbeautifulpoetry,wrappedupinbunchesofforget-me-nots,andputsthemoutsidemydoor.

I’mlovedandIlove,andthatisallanyoneofuscanhopefor.

PEDROCK

MyshiptheDragonflyhasbroughtmesomuchhappiness.PennyandIaremarriednow,underwobblystarsandaseafulloffish.Togetherwewillsailacrosstheoceans,thegreatflatmirrorsoftheworld.

MyloveandI.

MyloveandIandDragonfly.

LoveheartgavemeZedock’sthroneofskulls.It’sinmylibraryandI’msittinginitdrinkingabrandyandreadingmydailyhoroscopeintheTimesPsychicSupplement,

Todayisexcellentforgardeningandspendingqualitytime

withrootvegetables,especiallythoseoftheparsnipfamily.

Iputthepaperdown,write

myownprediction.Pluckupmyquill.

Todayyouwillsitona

giantthroneofskullsandpretendyouareRulerof

theUniverse!

OTTOINK-SQUID

Mybloodyshopburntdown.I’mgoingtocomplaintotheauthoress.Where’smyhappyending?FiftyOuijaboardsandaboxfulloftarotcardswentupinflames.

WhathaveIlearntfromthisstory?Don’ttrytopredictthefuture.

ImakelodgingsatthePearTreetavernfortheeveningandasmall,verysinisterlookingchildarriveswithapackage.

“MrInk-Squid?”

“Yes,”Ireply.

“Compensation,”andhehandsmeaparcel.

Hiseyes,Inote,areblackstars.Iuntiethepackage.Insideisalargesilverkey.

“Congratulations.Youarenowtheownerofalarge,moatedcastle.”

“Whowasthepreviousowner?”

“ProfessorHummingbird.Ibelieveyouhaveheardofhim.Hewasaderangedmass-murderingoccultist.Impaledonhisweddingday.”

“Oh.Thankyouverymuch.”

“Thepleasureisallmine.”

PANDORA

AmancalledMrLoveheartcameandtookmeawayfromtheasylum.TookmeawayinhismagiccoachtothefairylandofCornwall.

IamstayingwithTitania,QueenoftheFairies,whomakesverynicechutney.Iamknittingscarves,rainbowcolours,mileslong.Iam

insideoutwithhappiness.

DetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnutdownthepub

ConstableWalnutandIareintheNag’sHead,havingafewpints.

“IthinkI’vegoneabitpeculiar,”saysWalnut.

“You’veonlyjustrealisedthat?”

“It’sthebeer.Bitfrothy.Ihavequiteadelicatestomach.”

“Really.”

“Yes.It’sbecauseIhavepsychicability.I’msensitive

todarkauras.”

“Speakingofdarkauras,it’syourround,Walnut.”

“Thebarmaidfrightensme.Shekeepsgivingmetheeye.”

“Offyougo,noexcuses.”

Walnutslopesoff.Thebarmaidleansherenormousbosomonthebarandwinks

athimsuggestively.Hereturnsratherquicklywithtwopintsofbrownfroth.

“She’spredatory,”andhenervouslysitsbackdown.

“Ihavesomeinterestingnews.IreceivedaletterfromDetectiveWaxfordthismorning.Hethankedusfortheretirementgift,”Isaysarcastically.

“Ohshit,Iforgotaboutthat.”

“Yes.Ithoughtyoumight,consideringIsentyououtspecificallytogethimabookofWilliamBlake’spoetryandyoudecidedtochoosesomethingyourself.”

“Inmydefence…”

“Yes,I’mwaiting.”

“Iwasreallyhungover.”

“Walnut,yousenthimabookinstructinghowtoperformlobotomies.Andevenworsethanthat,youinscribeditwiththelines‘Ihopethishelpsyourecover’.”

“Ithoughtitmightprovidehimwithsomeinsightintohowtodealwithcriminals,sir.”

“Byremovingtheirbrains?”

“It’savalidtheory,sir.”

“So,yousentDetectiveWaxford–amanwhohasservedScotlandYardforovertwentyfiveyears,woncountlessmedalsforbravery–abookabouthowtoremoveabrainfromaskull.”

“Youthinkit’snotquiteappropriate?”

“No,it’snotappropriate.”

“Um…sowhatdidhislettersay,exactly?”

“Youreallywanttoknow?”

“Notreally.”

Itaketheletteroutofmy

coatpocketandgiveWalnutadeeplypenetratingstare.

DearPercivalandWalnut,

WhatcanIsay?Abookaboutlobotomy…Ipresumeyouchosethis,Walnut.Whata

thoughtfulgift.Iwasdeeplymoved.Mybrain,however,willremaininmyskull.ButIcan’tguaranteeWalnut’swillwhenIseehimnext.

WaxfordandMrLumpythecat

TheAngel-Eater

I’monlyasymbol.

Hangmeonawall.Pinmethroughmyheart.Paintmeonatemple.

TheonlypowerIhave

DetectiveWaxfordandMrLumpythecat

NexttimeIseeWalnutIamgoingtohithimovertheheadwithaweldingmallet.

It’sverypeacefulhereinWugglethump.NicespotofKent.Appletreesinmygarden,wildplumsandfloppyheadeddaises.HowhappyIam.Iloveyou,daisies!

I’vejustfinishedreadingoneofMrsCharm’smedievalhorrors:TheCurseofBlack-StumpPriory.MrLumpyquiteenjoyedit.Involved

somesortofblackmagicritualsgoingoninthecellars:incantations,whippings,humansacrifice.That’sthelovelypartofbeingretired.IcanreadaboutthehorrorbutIdon’thavetobeinvolvedanymore.Beautifuldetachment.Finally!

Adecomposingcorpsefliesthroughmywindowandlandswithasquelchythud

ontothecarpet.Icanhearlaughingoutside.Ipickupmygunandruntothewindow.

“MRLOVEHEART!IAMGOINGTOBLOODYSHOOTYOU!”

Andheappearssmilingatthewindow,dressedinlemonmeringueyellow.“Waxford!HappyRetirement.Aren’t

yougoingtoinvitemeinforteaandcake?”

“IAMSUPPOSEDTOBERECOVERINGFROMANERVOUSBREAKDOWN.WHATTHEHELLDOYOUTHINKYOUAREPLAYINGAT?”

“Imissedyou.”

“SENDMEAFUCKING

POSTCARDTHEN.DON’TTHROWACORPSETHROUGHMYWINDOW.”

“Ohcomeonnow,Waxford.Iknowyou’repleasedtoseeme.”

“WHATTHEFUCKAMISUPPOSEDTODOWITHTHIS?”Iscream,wavingthegunatthecorpse.

“Youcouldexamineitforanycriminalinterference?”

“IT’SALREADYBEENCRIMINALLYINTERFEREDWITH.YOUDUGHIMUP!GETRIDOFITNOWORIWILLKILLYOU.”AndIaimthegunathishead.

“Ooooooh,youspoilsport.”MrLoveheartclimbsthrough

thewindowandpicksthedeadbodyupbyitsdecomposingfootandbeginstodragitoutofthefrontdoor.

Islamthedoorshutandpeeroutofthewindow.“I’mwatchingyou,MrLoveheart,”andIwagglethegunathim.Hedragsthebodydownthepathandrollsitintoaditch,comesbackintomy

houseandslumpshimselfdowninthearmchair.Hesighs.“I’msobored.”

MrLumpyjumpsontohislapandpurrs.Thetraitor!

“Iamnotprovidingyouwithentertainment.GoandplaywithDetectiveWhiteandConstableWalnut.”

“Butyou’refunnier.IfI

prodyou,yousqueak!”

“You’renotgoingtoleave,areyou?”

“No,”andhestrokesMrLumpyaffectionately.

BooBoo

IlivewithMrLoveheartinhismansionofhearts.Theyareallovertheplace.There’sevenoneontheprivy.

Wedanceroundhishouselikemadbugs.

Hedancesroundmyheart.

Meandthemadprince.

Handinheart,heartinhand.♥

Loveheart

Iwalkmygardens.MakeUnderworldtreesappear,redfruitbulge.Wobbleanddropoff.Ilieonwetgrassandgazeatthestars,tryandcountthem.Losetrack,start

againandthenfallasleep.

Snore.

Dreamoftheunderneath.

IAMLORDOFTHEUNDERWORLD,.

Therearesharksswimminginmyhead.Thereareworldsspinningandbreakinginmyheart.

Ifyoukissme

forever.

Whatcolouristhedevil?You’reabouttofindout.

Epilogue

QueenVictoria

TheanswertoDeath’squestionisroyalblue.

It’sagloriousmorning;leavesthecolourofbloodspinoutsidethewindowandfalllikesplattersofadissectiononthegroundsofthepalace–asthoughtheskyhasbeenslicedwitharazor.IsGodperhapsawickeddoctor?

There’sadelicatetappingonthedoorandinslipsMrHourswithhislopsidedsmile

andbrokenteeth.

“YourMajesty,”andhebowsverylow.Notlowenough,inmyopinion.

“Whatnews,MrHours?”

“Somerathershockinginformation,Iamafraid,”herepliesnervously.

Istareoutofthewindow.“Continue.”

“TheButterflyClubhasbeenuncoveredbyScotlandYard.Allitsmembersslaughtered.ZedockHeap,theprimeminister,decapitated.”

“Isee.”ButIwanttocrushtheworldinmyfist.MybeautifulZedock.MybeautifulZedock.Istareoutintomygardens;intobloodroses.Theymelt,oozeacross

thelawnwithmyrage.

“Weareawarewhoisresponsible,”hestutters.

“AndWHOisresponsible,MrHours?”Myvoiceexertsapressurethatmakestheglasscrackinthewindows.

Veryquicklyhetakesoutalittlepieceofpaperfromhis

jacketpocket:“LordLoveheartchoppedhisheadoff.”

IAMTHERAGE.IAMTHERAGE.IAMBOILING.Thewindowsshatter.Thegardenerexplodes.Thebloodfillsthegarden,seepsintotheroom,undermyslippers.LOVEHEART,LOVEHEART,

LOVEHEART,LOVHEART,MYREVENGEwillbeahorrorstory.Iwillstoptheearthmoving.Iwillpulltheplanetsdownfromthesky.

IWILLEATYOUALIVE!

“But,”MrHourscontinuestrembling,“hewashelpedby…letmesee:aDetective

HenryWaxford,DetectivePercivalWhite,ConstableWalnutandMissBooBooFrogwish.”

Thebloodcontinuestofillthepalace

“Iwantthemsquashed.Iwanttoplacemyfootonthemandsquashtheminto

theground.”

“Anexcellentsuggestion,ma’am,”hestutters.

“Oh,andMrHours.”

“Yes?”

“Iamverydispleased.”

Hegivesmeacrumblinglook,asthoughevaporatingfromexistence.“I’mterribly

sorry.”

Itshouldn’tcomeasasurprisereally.Menalwaysdisappointme.Andhewithersawayoutoftheroom,leavingmeinstandinginblood.Leavingmewithmyrage.

Istareintospace.Intoyourlittleworld.Intotheholeofyou.Thebloodrises,wetsmy

skirts,ruinsthehemline.Myangeriscosmic,ifyoufeltityouwouldgomad,yourbrainswouldmeltunderitsenergy.IamyourQueen,IamyourQueen.YourMother,England.Comeandgivemeacuddle.Letmesqueezetheairfromyou.

LETMEBREAKEVERY

BONEINYOU.

IscreamandthePalaceshakes.Thechandelier

explodes.BigBenfallsover.

Timelinesfragment.Theplanetswobbleinthecosmos.

LOVEHEART,loveheart,Loveheart

Littleloveheart,youthinkyoucansendmebackto

BEYONDALLSTARS.

Acknowledgements

BIGthankyoustoBryony,PhilmyeditorandtheotherAngryRobots.Also,acheekymentiontoMattBerry&chocolateformakingthe

worldmorejoyful.

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