Underground kitchen, Oxford University
“D evil, my arse,” Tom snapped. “You don’t expect me to believe that?”
“Why not?” Inspector Dormouse said. “You believe in the nonsense of Wonderland and not in good and evil and the forces beyond our grasp.”
“Everything is beyond your grasp, inspector,” Tom said. “You’re asleep two-thirds of your life. I’m surprised you know what it’s like to be awake.”
Chopin snickered.
“So you think the Pillar is the devil?” Inspector Dormouse turned his gaze toward the cook.
“I didn’t say that.” Chopin shrugged. “But look, I accidentally chop off a finger every time I mention the Pillar. Diabolic!”
“You heard anything else?” Dormouse said. “Please remember. It’s important.”
“I don’t want to remember.” Chopin pulled his chin up and away, like a silly cartoon character in a manga. “I only have eight fingers left.”
“How about a hundred pounds?” Inspector Dormouse slapped the money on the kitchen table.
“For a finger?” Chopin seemed interested.
“Two hundred pounds.” Dormouse pulled out another hundred.
“I need three hundred pounds,” Chopin said.
“Why? You’ve lost only two fingers.” Tom felt the need to interfere.
“And I will lose a third once I mention that devil again,” Chopin said.
“Here is another hundred.” Tom offered a hundred of his own, not sure why he felt so curious all of a sudden. Maybe he’d like to see Chopin lose another finger.
“Talk!” Dormouse seemed aggressive.
“Say what?” Chopin said. “I will not talk.”
“But you took the money,” Tom argued.
“I didn’t say I would not fulfill my promise, but I will not talk.”
“You’re wasting our time,” Dormouse said.
“No I’m not.” Chopin pulled a flash drive from his pocket. “This will tell you what you need to know.”
“What is this?” Tom squinted at the drive suspiciously. “A bomb?”
“Why would I explode myself with you losers?” Chopin said. “This is a secret recording of some of the sessions. You go over it and hear everything.”
“Why haven’t you told us about this before?” Tom snapped.
“And lose three hundred pounds?” Chopin said.
“But you also lost a finger.” Tom was getting mad.
“The devil took one finger, yes, but I fooled the devil and kept the other when you gave me the last hundred and I didn’t talk.” Chopin looked sideways, as if the devil were hiding in a teapot nearby, listening to his genius conspiracy.
“Give it to me.” Tom snatched the drive, but then something incredibly unexpected happened.
Dormouse found himself standing in a room where both Chopin and Tom fell asleep while standing on their feet. It didn’t take him long to realize it was the Chessmaster’s doing. The madman had earlier announced that he’d make Oxford and London sleep next.
“Hmm…” Inspector Dormouse picked up the flash drive, wondering why he was the only one left awake. “This is weird.”
He took the flash drive outside, preparing to listen to it in Tom’s car stereo—it had an MP3 player that would accept the flash drive—and looked around at a sleeping University of Oxford.
“I don’t think it’s weird,” he said. “I think it’s frabjous. The one man who sleeps the most is the only one awake right now. Could it be that my sleeping has kept me immune to the Chessmaster’s curse?”