"I believe you. Dagbert and me often steal things." Joshua gave the man a crooked smile. "What's he stolen from you?"
"Seven golden charms, Joshua: a fish, five crabs, and a sea urchin."
Joshua wrinkled his brow. "But they're his charms, Mr. Grimwald—"
"Lord Grimwald," Manfred hastily corrected him.
"Lord Grimwald," said Joshua. "Dagbert said his mother made the charms for him, so he'd be protected."
"From me," said the Lord of the Oceans. "I know his story. All lies, Joshua."
Joshua kicked the floor with the toe of his boot, and Manfred scowled at the dried mud falling onto the polished floorboards.
Lord Grimwald sighed heavily and paced around the globe, saying, "I suppose you want a reward for your services, Joshua?"
Joshua looked at his mother, who said, "Of course he does."
"Very well." Lord Grimwald, having circled the globe, stopped beside Mrs.
Tilpin and sighed again. "Your accommodation here is not much, I imagine."
Manfred's scowl deepened. "Damp probably," Lord Grimwald continued. "I can see you've got a touch of arthritis. I can offer you a small castle in the north. A servant. Heated rooms and ..."
Mrs. Tilpin began to sway with pleasure. She had to steady herself on Manfred's arm, which he didn't much like. "And?" she prompted.
Lord Grimwald turned to Joshua. "What is your favorite food, Joshua?"
The boy gave a broad grin and, without hesitation, said, "Chocolate, sausages, Battenberg cake, lemon sherbet, strawberry jelly, chips, and beans."
"Fish?" asked the Lord of the Oceans.
"I hate fish," said Joshua.
Lord Grimwald's cheeks turned a greenish pink, and for a second, a look of hatred passed across his face, but pulling himself together, he waved a hand and said, "You'll get all those things, but—"
"Yippee!" Joshua gave a little jump for joy.
"But only when you've done what I ask."
"Spit it out," said Mrs. Tilpin, momentarily forgetting to be grateful. "I'm tired." She shuffled over to one of the gold-painted ballroom chairs and sank down on it.
Lord Grimwald became very businesslike. "I know that Dagbert will hide the charms. You will find them, Joshua. Wherever they are. You are magnetic. The charms will be drawn to you; they will cling to you, even if you are twelve feet away from them."
"I've never done gold before," said Joshua doubtfully.
"Believe me, you will attract gold if you think about it. If you truly want it. I know a little about magnetism, and the mind plays a great part in it.
Why are you covered in paper, mud, and crumbs, for instance? Do you want to look a mess? Think them away"—Lord Grimwald flipped a hand at the mess on Joshua's sweater—"and you'll feel much better."
Joshua frowned at the crumbs, but nothing happened.
"I think we are done here," said the Lord of the Oceans. "You may go now.
Bring me the charms as soon as you can."
"Yes, sir." Joshua turned to his mother, who shuffled forward and grabbed his hand.
"I'll come and see you later, Titania," said Manfred.
"I want your opinion on a new development. Olivia Vertigo is endowed."
This news brought a twisted smile from Mrs. Tilpin. "Indeed?" she murmured.
"I can have some fun at last, a little shape-shifting." Her blackberry eyes glittered with excitement.
As the Tilpin's walked out, a few bits of paper floated off Joshua's head, and squeezing his arm tightly, his mother whispered, "You're going to make our fortune, Josh."
Manfred waited until the Tilpins had gone before asking, "When will you find Lyell Bone's boat, then? I'd like to watch the drowning."
"Patience," said Lord Grimwald. "I want those charms. If I don't get them, I might not survive long enough to help you."
Manfred found it difficult to believe that the powerful man standing beside him could be overcome by a twelve-year-old boy. But a curse was a curse, he told himself, and there was no getting around it. "I haven't told Greatgrandfather the latest news," he said, striding to the door. "I'd better go up to his attic right now. He always likes to be the first to know things."
Lord Grimwald followed Manfred into the hallway. "Must be dinnertime," he said. "Can your cook make fish cakes?"
"No idea." Manfred closed the ballroom doors, slid a bolt across, and locked them. "Don't want anyone tampering with your globe," he said.
The two men made their way down the gloomy hall, opened the low door at the end, and stepped into the main hall. As soon as the door had been closed, a small person emerged from the shadows at the other end of the passage. Cook had been listening through a crack in the ballroom door and had heard almost every word of the conversations that had taken place. Certainly enough to know that she must tell someone about the Sea Globe. She had even caught a glimpse of the awful thing.
Cook and Lord Grimwald had a history. Not once, but twice, he had asked her to marry him. She had refused both times, and for this he had swept away her house and drowned her family. Tears stung her eyes when she thought of the dreadful day she had returned to her island home to find nothing but a few planks of wood bobbing beside a rock.
"He won't get away with it again," she muttered as she tiptoed hastily down the passage. "Better the boy than the man. Whatever Dagbert has done, it can't be worse than what that slimeball has in mind."
Cook opened the door into the corridor. Looking quickly about her, she ran across the hall and down the corridor of portraits to the blue cafeteria.
Once there, she slipped into the kitchen and over to a broom closet. Her assistants were all off duty for the weekend, so she was able to use the access to her secret apartment without fear of being observed.
At the back of the broom closet and covered by aprons and towels, a small door opened onto a softly lit corridor. Cook hurried along, muttering under her breath, "Mustn't let him. Must stop him," until she came to a flight of steps leading down to another cupboard.
This one opened into a cozy room where bright coals flickered in an old black stove. The walls were hung with paintings, and an ancient dresser was filled with gold-patterned china. There was a comfy sofa and an old armchair beside the stove. In the armchair sat a large man with a lot of white hair and a lined but handsome face.
Dr. Saltweather, Head of Music, was Cook's friend and ally. It was only recently that she had begun to trust him enough to let him into her secret room. And how he loved it. What a contrast it was to the cold, gloomy room he had been allotted in the academy.
When he saw Cook's anxious face, Dr. Saltweather flung down his newspaper and exclaimed, "What is it, Treasure?" This was not an endearment, although the doctor was very fond of Cook. Treasure was actually her name.
"Oh, Arthur. It's dreadful!" cried Cook, and she related everything she had heard—and caught a glimpse of. "I've got to warn them," she said, putting on her tweed coat and woolly hat. "Charlie and his uncle have got to know. We've got to stop that wicked, murdering, drowning monster."
"Let me go," said Dr. Saltweather, springing up.
"No, no. You're too... er... distinctive." She blushed slightly. "You'd be noticed. I'll go to the bookstore rather than risk being seen by the Bone grandmother. Mr. Yewbeam is bound to be with Miss Ingledew today."
"If you're sure. But do take care." Dr. Saltweather anxiously watched Cook dart about, putting things into her bag. And then, with a little wave, she was off again.
Dr. Saltweather sank back into the armchair and patted the old dog at his feet. "I don't like it, Blessed," he said. "I don't like it one bit."
9. THE FALSE GODMOTHER
Cook remembered that she was on duty tonight. She would be expected to produce a meal for the Bloors and their unwholesome guests. Fish cakes had been mentioned.
"Nothing for it; Mrs. Weedon will have to take over," Cook said to herself as she ran through the blue cafeteria. "Better warn her."