The lightbulb jiggled on its wire, and Stuart cringed, expecting the ceiling to give way.
“What is going on?” asked Jeannie. She strode to the door and pulled it open. As she did so, there was a rattle of wings and the white dove fluttered past the office, landing on top of one of the forklift trucks parked a few feet away.
A second later, Clifford fell past the office window. “I’m fine,” he called, scrambling to his feet and then wincing dramatically and clutching one leg. “Followed it onto the office roof,” he gasped. “Very nearly got it. I was wondering if you’d count catching a dove as a grade-two skill. Ow.”
He sat down on the floor again and Jeannie, looking extremely irritated, went out to help him.
“Stuart,” said Leonora.
He turned to look at her.
“What else is in the cabinet, dear?”
“Um …” He went over and stood on tiptoe. “Besides the photograph, there’s a little cage with a fake bird in it and there’s a metal tube with Chinese letters all over it, and a—oh.”
It was a cylindrical tin box, painted with red and blue interlocking circles. The word MONEY was visible, printed upside down and back to front.
“A money box,” Stuart told her rather breathlessly. It was exactly like his father’s, which he’d found the threepences in.
“Will you bring the items to me?” asked Leonora. The cabinet wasn’t locked, so Stuart gathered up the bits and pieces and brought them over to her. She took them eagerly and arranged them on the desk beside her.
“These were some of the first tricks your uncle ever engineered,” she said. “He was terribly proud of them.”
“You knew him?” asked Stuart.
“Tremendously well. He was engaged to my elder sister, Lily—she was his assistant, you saw her in the photograph. Now take a look at this.”
Confidently, she picked up the little birdcage. It was made of silvery metal, and the white bird within was of folded paper. Leonora moved her hands very slightly—and suddenly the cage was gone. Gone completely.
Stuart stared.
“It’s here,” said Leonora, pulling what looked like an umbrella spoke from her sleeve. She placed a finger at either end and pushed gently. The birdcage unfolded, the little paper bird spun on his perch and Leonora laughed. “I’ll bet you’re looking startled,” she said in her pleasant, husky voice.
“And this is the Fiendish Finger Trap,” she said, laying a hand on the slender silver tube. “The more you try to free yourself, the firmer you stick. Next to it is the Magical Money Box.” It rattled as she turned it upside down.
“You unscrew the bottom counterclockwise,” said Stuart quickly, and Leonora smiled.
“You must have seen one before. I know that the factory sold thousands.” She twisted off the base and a penny coin fell out. “But have you seen the other trick to it?” she added.
Stupidly, he shook his head before remembering that she was blind. “No,” he said.
She turned the money box the right way up again and opened the hinged lid at the top. “I wonder whether the penny coin will work,” she said. “This old model was actually designed for threepenny bits.”
She inserted the edge of the coin into a slit just below the hinge, and gave a little push and a twist. There was a springy click. With the lid still open, she turned the tin upside down again and gave it a shake, and a metal disk clattered onto the table.
“A false bottom,” said Leonora. “Is there anything beneath it?”
Stuart peered into the money box.
“A circle of cardboard with the word surprise! written on it,” he told her.
Leonora laughed, and then leaned toward him. “What’s Jeannie doing?” she asked under her breath.
Stuart looked around. “She’s fetched a first-aid kit and she’s put a sort of elastic sock on Clifford’s foot. He’s trying to stand up.”
“We don’t have long to talk, then,” said Leonora. “And I’d love to know how you tracked me down. I’m sorry I lied to Jeannie about inviting you here, but I could sense you were struggling for an answer.”
“I was a bit.” Stuart paused. “I’m not sure you’ll believe it when I tell you,” he said.
“I think you’d be surprised what I’d believe,” said Leonora quietly. “Could you meet me the day after tomorrow? Eleven o’clock in the Gala Bingo Hall on Fitch Street? I go there every Thursday morning.”
Stuart did the nodding thing again, before remembering to speak. “Yes,” he said. “I’m sure my dad will let—” and then he realized suddenly that he had left his house ages ago, and that his father would be coming back from his walk to find Stuart gone and no note of explanation. “I’d better go,” he said. “I’ll be there on Thursday. I promise.”
He hurried out of the office and nearly bumped into Jeannie. “I’ve got to get home,” he said.
“Not before you tell me what you were going to say before Clifford decided to jump without a parachute. We were talking about your great-uncle’s workshop and you said, ‘Has anyone looked in the—’” She raised an eyebrow.
“I was going to say, the burned-out factory,” said Stuart. “Maybe he rebuilt it in the ruins of Horten’s Miraculous Mechanisms.”
There was silence, apart from the dove crooning from the rafters high above, and then Jeannie laughed. “No, he absolutely, definitely didn’t do that,” she said. “Something else was rebuilt from the ruins of the factory.”
“What?” asked Stuart.
“This place.” Jeannie spread her arms to indicate the enormous warehouse. “We’re standing on the very spot. But in case you come up with any better ideas, let me give you this.” She took a little silver card from her pocket. “My number’s on it,” she added. “And, Stuart”—she crouched to talk to him, in a way that made him feel like a toddler—“I really am the very first person you should speak to if you find out anything useful. Come straight to me. There might even be a lovely reward for you.”
She smiled widely, but her eyes were like chips of glass. She showed Stuart out the back way, through the yard and the pair of metal gates that he’d seen on his first day in Beeton. After they’d clicked shut behind him, he glanced up at the lettering on the arch.
He thought of a fire so fierce that it left nothing but molten scraps, and then he set off at a run for home.
He felt as if he’d been away for hours, but when he got back to Beech Road, he saw his father walking just ahead of him.
“Hi,” said Stuart, breathlessly catching up to him.
“Oh, hello,” said his father, looking pleased. “Been on an excursion yourself, have you? Are you ready for your repast? I shall be preparing a Neapolitan speciality, with fungal and caseous addenda.”
“No caseous addenda on mine, thanks,” said Stuart. And while his father got on with making a mushroom and cheese pizza (no cheese for Stuart), he hurried upstairs to his room, grabbed the money box, unscrewed the base, and tipped out the six remaining threepenny bits onto his bed. Flipping open the lid at the top, he inserted one of the coins into the slit beneath the hinge and gave it a push. There was an immediate twanging noise. He turned the tin upside down again, and the false bottom fell onto the bed. Then he turned it the right way and peered in. And read the words:
TO MY NEPHEW