DB looked at the clock. Ten minutes until the interval. Where was Oz?
‘We can’t wait any longer,’ she said finally. ‘We’ve got to get this show on the road.’
She stood up. Nigel heaved himself out of his chair and waddled over to join her.
‘You can take off your Oz suit for now,’ said DB, helping him unbutton the coat and remove the cushions. ‘I need you to be Nigel again.’
‘What are we going to do?’
‘First, we need to get Slushbutt here into her costume.’
Working quickly, the two of them bundled the sleeping Priscilla Winterbottom into the costume from the Nutcracker ballet’s wardrobe. ‘There,’ said DB, adjusting the hood. ‘Suits her to a T.’ She looked around the room, frowning. ‘Now, the question is, how do we get her past the policeman?’
‘There’s a big laundry basket in the housekeeper’s cupboard outside,’ offered Nigel. ‘We could put her in that.’
DB smiled. ‘You don’t miss a trick, do you, kid? I think Oz may have been right about you.’
The small, pale boy fingered his MICE-6 badge proudly and offered a shy smile in return.
‘Think you can get that basket in here without the guard seeing?’
‘I’ll try.’ Nigel opened the door a sliver and peeked out into the hall. The policeman’s back was turned; he was watching the concert from the stage wings. As the two sopranos swung into ‘The Holly and the Ivy’, the tune that would close the first half of their Christmas programme, the younger boy tiptoed to the housekeeper’s cupboard, grabbed the laundry basket and wheeled it back to Lavinia Levinson’s dressing room.
‘Give me a hand, would you, Nigel?’ whispered DB, hoisting the sleeping form of Priscilla Winterbottom up off the sofa. The two of them managed to sling her gently – very gently – up and over the side of the basket, settling her on to a heap of soiled linen.
‘Peee-eeeewww,’ said DB softly, wrinkling her nose as she climbed in beside the British soprano’s daughter and burrowed beneath a towel.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Nigel. ‘Those ballet dancers really work up a sweat.’
‘Can you get us to the lift?’ DB asked him, her voice muffled by dirty laundry.
In reply, Nigel Henshaw wheeled the basket quietly out of the dressing room. The guard’s back was still turned. The younger boy pushed the basket slowly and carefully down the hall. Just as he passed the guard, Priscilla Winterbottom let out a snore. The policeman wheeled round.
‘Stop!’ he called.
Nigel halted, and the policeman eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re the conductor’s son, right?’
Nigel nodded.
‘I thought your dad told you to stay in his dressing room.’
‘Just until the interval,’ Nigel said meekly. ‘I’m taking these down to the laundry for housekeeping.’
The detective glanced into the cart. ‘Whew,’ he said. ‘Stinky.’
Nigel nodded in agreement. ‘The towels always need a good wash after the matinee. They weren’t seen to today – housekeeper’s off on holiday.’
‘Right then, lad. Nice of you to lend a hand. Off you go. Haven’t been bothering those two American kids, have you?’
‘Oh, no, sir,’ said Nigel. He started forward with the basket again. It let out another snore, and Nigel coughed loudly to cover it. The guard frowned, but the haunting strains of the ancient carol drew him back, and with one last glance over his shoulder at Nigel he allowed his attention to return to the stage.
Nigel turned the corner of the hallway and broke into a run. He screeched to a halt in front of the lift, and a minute later they were in the basement.
DB climbed out of the laundry cart and slid open the back of the enormous silver foil-wrapped present on the hydraulic lift. ‘Be careful not to wake her,’ she whispered as she and Nigel wheeled the laundry basket up on to the platform and into the box. Priscilla squirmed restlessly for a moment, then settled in with a sleepy sigh.
‘Can she breathe in there?’ asked Nigel anxiously as DB slid the back of the box into place again.
DB nodded. ‘Plenty of air holes,’ she said. ‘Oz and I checked.’
They crossed to the laundry room, and DB climbed into another basket. ‘Keep your fingers crossed, Agent Henshaw,’ she said as Nigel covered her with fresh towels. ‘Let’s just hope Oz’s plan works.’
