23

‘We need to get a good look at that safe,’ said Sophie, glancing at Alex, who was super keen to see the mechanism he had to deal with.

‘Yes,’ agreed Zack, looking at his watch. ‘And the quicker we can cart it up these stairs, the better!’ He rapped lightly on the council-chamber door.

‘Enter!’ came President Pickle’s booming voice once again.

Zack popped his head round. ‘Do you mind if we grab the safe now and take it upstairs?’ he asked, smiling his infectious grin. ‘We’d like to get in as much practice as possible.’

President Pickle suddenly burst out laughing. A deep, large-man’s laugh that shook his vital organs and made his chin jiggle about. The kind of laugh that he reserved for special occasions, when something really tickled him. Or like the first time Cynthia had turned the eggshell of her freshly eaten boiled egg upside-down, placed it back in the eggcup and served it to him on their finest, chintzy crockery as a joke. Oh how he’d roared! Truly one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. And now these little mites – one of whom was a girl – were asking whether they could take one of the heaviest things ever up a huge flight of stairs! Eventually he calmed down, mopping his brow theatrically, his cheeks and jowls all flushed. ‘Be my guest,’ he said, trying to suppress another wheezy laugh. ‘Try not to wake Bill, though. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone touching his safe.’

Could this man really be in league with the thieves? Sophie mused as they traipsed cautiously over to the safe. He was a complete clown, but the facts seemed to fit. He needed cash to save his floundering society … Could all this buffoonery merely be an act? A fantastic display of foolishness as he colluded and constructed some beastly plan with the nation’s most-wanted to ensure his survival at the top?

Why, oh why did he dislike children so much? wondered Zack. It wasn’t just a casual dislike; this was something bigger than that, something more deep-seated bubbling away under the surface. Perhaps they’d get to the bottom of it one day.

The three looked over at Bill, now lolling back, mouth gaping wide, his lungs working overtime to pump the stale air in and out of his decaying body.

The three friends swiftly sized up the safe as they approached. It sure was a chunky old thing, with easily enough space for the four of them to fit inside. Jonny would have to do something clever with his spine, thought Zack, but that’s what Jonny always had to do whenever he got inside anything smaller than a blue whale.

Alex felt the cold, stinging metal walls – the kind of sucking, all-pervading cold that you could almost sense from a distance. He placed his hands on the door itself, which swung clunkily on its fat hinges, heaving and sighing. In the very centre on the outer side of the safe door was a series of circular dials, one on top of the other, with numbers and letters set round the grooved edges. Alex ran his fingers along them, glad to feel that the ancient mechanism had been well oiled.

‘How do you want to lift it?’ asked Sophie, looking at the bronze handles on the sides of the safe.

‘I guess we just take one side each,’ answered Zack, slightly overwhelmed by the dense weight of the object now they were this close. ‘Alex, do you want to stop the door from swinging open?’

Alex pushed the door to, being careful not to shut it. Bill snuffled and adjusted his position but didn’t wake.

‘Careful!’ sang President Pickle from the other side of the table, eyeing the three like they were a bunch of performers brought in for his amusement. ‘He might look like a kitten when he’s asleep, but he turns into a wild cat when startled.’ He chuckled loudly, clearly trying to wake Bill.

Sophie and Zack took up their positions on either side of the safe and heaved on the handles, straining their shoulders as Alex supported the door. It was a mighty effort. The sort only reserved for something like moving house; the kind you didn’t want to do too regularly; the kind advised against by all qualified doctors.

‘You couldn’t … perhaps … give us a hand … could you?’ asked Zack between breaths as they inched forward under the monstrous weight.

President Pickle stuck out his bottom lip mockingly. ‘As much as I would love to be of assistance,’ soothed the man idiotically, clearly enjoying himself, ‘I’m afraid I can’t be seen to offer any preferential treatment ahead of your auditions in front of Council.’ He smiled sympathetically before checking to see if Bill had woken up yet, frowning wildly like a pantomime villain. ‘Uh-oh, he’s stirring!’

‘It’s … all right …’ managed Sophie. ‘We’ve got this … Thank goodness society finances are so low … Otherwise this might be a lot heavier!’

President Pickle shot her a warning glance as they slowly manoeuvred the safe towards the doorway.

‘Oh, now look – you’ve only gone and woken Bill!’ shouted President Pickle all of a sudden. ‘BILL! These children are trying to make off with your safe! What are you going to do about it?’

Bill rustled awake, his eyes blinking slowly as bits of dust and sleep fell out of his ageing eye-sockets and clattered noiselessly to the stone floor, catching the light – a faint dusting of DNA should someone wish to replicate Bill as a future science project. For a second they thought he was about to pounce. But no, not today. Today’s frail Bill didn’t really have it in him any more. He couldn’t even see what President Pickle was getting so worked up about to be honest – everything was such a blur in this dimly lit cave. The only thing he knew was that he was meant to be counting … something.

Bill’s shoulders sagged and he drifted back into a deep, deep sleep.

The three placed the safe down at the foot of the spiral staircase, glad to be out of the stuffy chamber. They looked up at the tiny speck of landing, way, way, way above their heads. If this was payback for their earlier treatment of the banister, then they’d been got back fair and square. How on earth were they going to get up with this cumbersome thing? They certainly hadn’t figured this in their eleven-point plan!

Alex popped his head out, clearly embarrassed not to be bearing much, if any, of the load. He looked up at Sophie. ‘I … I don’t mind swapping places.’

Sophie couldn’t help grinning. ‘Well, that’s very gentlemanly of you, Alex,’ she said, stretching her arms for relief. ‘But there’s no way you’re stronger than me!’

Alex nodded quickly and retreated.

Zack smiled at them. ‘OK, well, let’s just take it one step at a time, then, shall we?’

They heaved the safe up on to the first step with a solid thud. And then on to the next step. Thud. And then again. Thud. Three steps in a row this time. Scrape, scrape, thud! The whole staircase seemed to bend and moan at the colossal weight moving at tortoise speed, the banister creaking like a floundering ship, in serious danger of just giving up and falling apart.

It was a strange spectacle: Zack with his nose squashed against one side of the safe, his back to the curved stone wall; Sophie opposite, holding up the other side, her back jammed into the rail, which shone from the earlier polishing effects of the Young Magicians’ slidey bums.*

Alex was doing his best at the downhill end of things, leaning forward to stop the safe door swinging open while offering words of encouragement. Still, it gave him the opportunity to study the locking mechanism in a bit more detail. ‘The … The dial looks … difficult, but pickable,’ he called out optimistically.

‘Hang on … can we just … put it down a sec?’ said Zack, wincing as he lowered his side of the safe.

‘Not tired, are you, Zack, mate?’ asked Sophie, a blatant edge of competitiveness in her voice.

‘No, I just … I just heard something,’ said Zack, lowering his voice and concentrating.

They stood motionless, about a quarter of the way up the spiral staircase, straining their ears.

Zack looked up as a cool breeze swept over him. Was it his imagination or was there a voice travelling down with it, spirit-like, freezing the three of them to the spot.

‘Children … Children …’ the whisper echoed, filtering through the air, cooing and beckoning them softly. Zack looked over at Sophie, his brow furrowed. ‘What mischief are you up to now?’

Sophie gripped the banister, feeling it vibrate. ‘I think there might be someone sliding down,’ she said anxiously, looking over at the two boys.

Alex’s face started to turn the colour of Greek natural yogurt (with no bits).

The voice sounded again, closer this time. ‘Clever girl, Sophie! You’d be surprised how easily sound travels in this building!’

Zack opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He looked around, wondering how to squeeze out from between the wall and the safe, and realized that he and Sophie were well and truly trapped. Should either of them move, the safe would topple back down the stairs, possibly taking the entire stairwell with it.

‘Not like you to have nothing to say, Zack!’ The banister started to groan under the weight of someone approaching, like some mournful chorus, dragged in begrudgingly to mark the arrival of this strange character. ‘I’ve been watching you all for quite some time now,’ continued the voice, which was arguably the most creepy thing he’d said so far. And then, as if to take the edge off:

‘Not that I have much else to do, you have to understand!’

Although quite exactly how this made things any clearer or less unnerving was entirely up for grabs.

Alex looked up into the gloom, letting out a small cry as a dark figure whizzed round and round above them, facing forward on the banister (brave!), as if travelling by broom and caught inside a tornado. He was now only three or four turns above them, hugging the rail close, his whole body low and creeping, shooting forward.

‘Now, now, don’t fret, young Alex,’ the voice said soothingly. ‘Nothing to be afraid of, I promise.’

But as Alex knew all too well, people – his parents, for example – broke their promises all the time.

Sophie took a deep breath as the figure came to a halt, gripping the rail with his gloved hands, his nose stopping inches away from her shocked face. She looked disbelievingly into the kind eyes, for this was a face she’d never expected to see in a hundred years. For a hundred years was roughly the time when this man was last seen alive. There was even a painting of him up in the corridor above saying exactly when he died.

‘Hi! I’m Alf. I’m here to help!’

ALF?!