the contrary tale of the butterfly girl: from the peculiar...
TRANSCRIPT
ISHBELLEBEE
TheContraryTaleoftheButterflyGirl
fromTHEPECULIARADVENTURES
OFJOHNLOVEHEART,ESQ,
VOL.II
ForTomx
REVENGE
SHOULDHAVENOBOUNDS
WilliamShakespeare,Hamlet,IV.vii
butterfly
butterfly
Butterfly
Butter-fly
BUTTERFLYFLYFLY
butterfly
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.
Zap!
Thegodsansweredwithalightningbolt.Struckmedown.
Iwoke–dragonfliesdancing
inmyheadonthetemplefloor.Thebutterflytattooonmybackwasmoving,shiftingundermyskin.Itswingswerebeating.
Ispun,mybladesinmyhand.Theywhirredlikeahummingbird.Fastasmagic.Ipoundedmyfootonthetemplefloor.Acrackappeared,zigzagging.Wobblingthetemplepillars.
POWER
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.
Weare
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
but
so
many
hearts.
WhoshouldIpick?Theanswerissimple:
SOMEONE
JUST
LIKE
ME
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?”
CHOP
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
yawn
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
ask.
“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
cart.
“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
head.
“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
wall.
“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
says.
“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
door.
Itakemypistoloutandpointitathishead.“You’recominginforquestioning.”
TheProfessorpoundshisfistsonhisdesk.Thewallsmove,ripplelikewater.
ZAP!
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
eyes.
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
fly
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.
SHEIS
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;
drip
drip
drip.
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.
Boo
Hoo
DreamoftheAngel-Eater
ItisthewitchinghourwhentheAngel-Eatercomestome.Floatsabovemybed.Speakstomedirectly.
Sheisagreatblackstar.
“Oursoulsareunderglasssquashedtogether.Youmustgetsomeonetobreakusout!”shesays,hoveringoverme.
“Whereareyou?”Istandonmybed.
“Onyourweddingnighthewillrevealme.Itishispattern.Youhavetowait.”
POP
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.
Chop
chop
chop
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
the
death
of
a
star.
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.
BONG
BONG
BONG
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.
My
head
is
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
being
d
e
st
r
oy
e
d
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
Ghost
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.
BANG!
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.
ZAP!
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
BASH!
LOVEHEART
BOOM!
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.
POWER
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-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
say.
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.
My
little
butter
f
l
y
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
me.
“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.
BOOM
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
chop
chopchop
chopchop
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
CHOP
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
GOO!
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
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.
RUFUS
LoveheartgavemeZedock’sthroneofskulls.It’sinmylibraryandI’msittinginitdrinkingabrandyandreadingmydailyhoroscopeintheTimesPsychicSupplement,
Leo
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
is
what
you
give
me.
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
you
will
live
forever.
Death
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
Hell?
IAM
BEYONDALLSTARS.
Acknowledgements
BIGthankyoustoBryony,PhilmyeditorandtheotherAngryRobots.Also,acheekymentiontoMattBerry&chocolateformakingthe
worldmorejoyful.