Underground kitchen, Oxford University
“H ere!” Chopin the Chopper handed Tom a kitchen knife. “Slice those carrots for me.”
“Seriously?” Tom said, taking the knife.
“If you want valuable information then you have to help me,” Chopin said. “Finish the carrots, then on to the onion. I will tell you what I know as we cook.”
“I hate onions. They make me cry,” Tom said.
“Wahhhh?” Chopin made a mocking baby face. “Do they make you cry, honey?”
Tom clenched his fists. “Why isn’t Inspector Dormouse helping, then?”
“You sound like a child now,” Chopin said. “The inspector falls asleep every couple of minutes. He could hurt himself. I did it once, see?” He showed his hand, which was missing a finger. “Chopped it off while working late at night one day because I was getting sleepy.”
“Ouch.” Tom stepped back from the missing finger. “What did you do with the finger?”
“Shoved it into the carrot soup. Looked like a paler carrot, but did the job,” Chopin said. “Now, where do you want me to start with the Fourteen’s story?”
“Why are they called the Fourteen?” Inspector Dormouse was alert enough to ask.
“Because there are fourteen members in their little circle of trust,” Chopin said.
“I thought only the Pillar and twelve men attended,” Tom said.
“First of all, the Pillar wasn’t part of the fourteen members,” Chopin said. “He was like the head of the community: taking care of their needs and organizing the meetings.”
“Okay,” Tom said. “Then according to you, there are still two members missing of the fourteen.”
“Of course.” Chopin chopped up some cucumbers fiercely, enjoying it too much, like a serial killer chopping off his victim’s body parts. “Two members never showed up.”
“How do you know about them then?” Inspector Dormouse asked.
“They talked about them. The Pillar, mostly. He had a great interest in finding the other two,” Chopin said.
“Are you saying the twelve who were there weren’t interested in finding the other two?”
“The twelve’s main job in the meeting was to track the other two. Pillar’s orders.”
“So those meetings were organized to look for the missing two?” Tom asked.
“Part of it,” Chopin said. “The twelve had some kind of deal previously arranged with the Pillar. Some kind of a grand plan that I will get into in a minute, because it’s really bonkers. For now, let me tell you about who the other two were.”
“I’m listening,” Tom said. Inspector Dormouse was already snoring, and Tom wondered if the three of them were the worst bunch of men acting like detectives ever.
“One of the two was most important to the Pillar,” Chopin said. “From what I heard, the Pillar wasn’t sure how to find the other.”
“So tell me about the one he was sure of,” Tom said.
“It’s a well-known man. When I first heard his name, I accidentally peed in my soup—but shoved it down some minister’s throat the next day,” Chopin said. “Point is this man, number thirteen, was a man the Pillar couldn’t bring to the meetings.”
“Why?”
“Because he is such an evil man, protected by a tribe of criminals in a faraway country, and the Pillar seemed to fear him the most.”
“The Pillar feared a man so much?” Tom asked.
“The thirteenth man was part of the Pillar deal,” Chopin explained. “A bonkers deal I never understood. It had to do with something the fourteen men, plus the Pillar, did way back in a place called Wonderland.”
“Wonderland?” Tom mopped his head in frustration, wondering about the many things that happened back then that he wasn’t aware of. Maybe he was such a trivial being back then that no one but Lewis Carroll bothered talking to him.
“Wonderland is real?” Dormouse jumped awake.
“Just go back to sleep,” Tom said, focusing on Chopin. “Do you happen to know what kind of deal that was?”
“All I understood is that fourteen men were involved with the Pillar, and that the deal wasn’t complete. To complete it, the last two needed to be found.”
“And killed,” Tom said, assuming. “The Pillar was only playing those poor fourteen men. Whatever deal they had, he figured he had to kill them at some point.” He paused for a moment and then said, “And that’s why he hadn’t killed the twelve for all those years since Wonderland. The twelve were his only way to find the missing two.”
“Are you saying the Pillar didn’t just kill twelve men, but fourteen?” Inspector Dormouse yawned, and Chopin seized the opportunity and shoved a tomato into his mouth.
Tom pried the tomato out, rolling his eyes at the silliness of his companions. “This is the only explanation. The Pillar only killed the twelve men when he was sure of the identities of the other two and how to get to them.”
“You sound like Sherlock Holmes,” Chopin said. “Though it should be Inspector Sherlock Dormouse who sounds like Holmes.”
“Don’t bother with Inspector Dormouse,” Tom said. “We’re getting closer to what happened to the Pillar. Now, tell me of the one person the Pillar identified of the missing two.”
“You mean the thirteenth man the Pillar needed to kill, but was afraid of?” Chopin grinned, showing a silver tooth.
“Yes, him,” Tom said, wondering if Chopin had managed to chop off his own tooth at some point.
“I hope you’re ready for the surprise,” Chopin said.
“Trust me, I’ve seen wonders,” Tom said. “I’m hardly surprised these days.”
“But you will be,” Chopin said. “Because the thirteenth member’s name is the Executioner.”
Tom was wrong. This did surprise him a great deal. “You mean the Columbian drug lord? The Pillar raided his crops and killed his army.”
“The Pillar had to kill everyone in Mushroomland to make sure the Executioner, the thirteenth member, was dead,” Chopin said. “Didn’t I tell you I would surprise you?”
Then Chopin accidentally chopped off another finger.