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"So there's only us," Emma finished breathlessly.

"OK." Reluctantly, Charlie stood up. "I'll get my coat."

"You will not, Charlie Bone. And it is not OK." Maisie plunked down her iron and walked over to stand in front of the kitchen door. "I forbid you to leave this house today. Your parents would never forgive me if something happened to you."

"But Mrs. Jones... ," Emma began.

"Don't you Mrs. Jones me, Emma Tolly," said Maisie. "I'm surprised at you, forcing our Charlie into dangerous streets after all that he's been through."

This embarrassed Charlie. "Maisie," he cried, "I'm not a child!"

"Yes, you are," Maisie retorted.

Charlie didn't like arguing with Maisie, but he hated being made to look like a sissy, and a nasty scene might have followed if Uncle Paton's camper van hadn't arrived outside the house.

Charlie's uncle looked tired when he came in. Maisie asked him where he had been, but he merely shook his head and told her it was a long story and not a very satisfactory one. "I shall have to go to Ireland," he muttered, before gulping down a large cup of black coffee.

Charlie noticed that his uncle had a familiar "don't ask me any more questions" look on his face, so he sat beside him at the table and related everything that had happened on the previous day. And now, at last, he got a reaction from his uncle, who quickly helped himself to another cup of coffee, exclaiming, "I shouldn't have left, I see that now. They're getting too bold, those villains, and yet"—he scratched his unshaven chin—"I must find out more about that will."

"I've got an idea," said Emma. But before mentioning Mr. Bittermouse, she repeated Cook's description of the Sea Globe and Lord Grimwald's terrible power.

"I never imagined that was how he did it," Paton murmured, and an anguished look passed across his face. "I can't reach Lyell. Every contact I had seems to have gone dead. There was a harbormaster but he left his post, and the captain of the ship that carried your parents' mail hasn't been seen for a month. But there is a ray of hope. The sailor who was with them on one of their journeys says he's received word from Lyell, very recently, and will try and contact him again."

"I had a card from them," said Charlie. "Just a week ago.

Another whale. The date on it was smudged."

"But don't you see," said Emma, wringing her hands fretfully, "if we find the box, then there'll be no need for Lord Grimwald to drown anyone."

"Unless he just likes doing it," said Charlie.

"We've got to try." Emma groaned with impatience. "Please, Mr. Yewbeam, please, please will you come with us to see Mr. Bittermouse? He's a lawyer.

He knew Charlie's dad. Lawyers deal with wills, don't they?"

"It's a long shot, Emma." Paton gave her a rueful smile. "But I was going to the bookstore this morning, so we could pop in to see Mr. Bittermouse on the way."

"Thank—" Emma began.

"But"—Paton held up his hand—"not before I've had my breakfast and a shower."

"Thank you." Emma sat down, exhausted by her efforts. "So now can Charlie come?" she asked Maisie.

"We'll see." Maisie set about cooking Paton's breakfast while he went upstairs. He came down looking very clean and dressed in his blue velvet jacket and a new red tie.

Emma and Charlie waited patiently while Uncle Paton ate a large plate of bacon, tomatoes, asparagus, mushrooms, eggs, and beans. After two slices of toast and marmalade, a croissant, and a third cup of coffee, Paton rose from the table, saying, "Bless you, Maisie," and made for the hall, where he wound a gray scarf around his neck and put on his black fedora and long woolen coat.

Light snowflakes were drifting through the air, and frost still lingered on the grass and hedgerows. Charlie huddled into the thick scarf that Maisie had bought him for Christmas. He would have preferred to stay at home, but how could he possibly ignore any attempt to save his parents? And again he was beset by worrying, unpleasant thoughts. Why was his father so far away when the city was in trouble? Had he been in a trance for so long that now he was too weak to face any danger? No. For the ocean was a dangerous place.

Charlie had been so lost in thought, he was surprised to find they were already approaching the street where Mr. Bittermouse lived. A large moving van was parked outside the lawyer's house, the wheels on one side resting on the pavement and blocking their way. The cobblestone street was so narrow, they had to squeeze by the van on the other side of the road.

"I'm sure this is illegally parked," puffed Uncle Paton as he shuffled sideways, trying to avoid the mud spattered on the side of the van.

When they had all gotten through, they discovered that the van was not parked outside Mr. Bittermouse's house but standing in front of the house next door to his. Here there was much activity. The doors at the back of the van were wide open and several moving men in brown overalls were pushing furniture up a ramp and into the van's depths.

"Is someone moving?" Charlie realized that this was a silly question because someone was very obviously moving.

"We are." A young woman with a baby in her arms stood in the doorway. "And not a moment too soon for my liking."

Uncle Paton touched his hat. "Paton Yewbeam," he said. "What's been going on?"

"What hasn't," said the young woman. She nodded at the turn to Piminy Street, almost opposite. "Those ruffians in Piminy Street have made our lives a misery. I just can't take it any longer. Stone creatures banging on the door at night, unearthly singing, laughter like I've never heard. Bats in the chimney. Glowing eyes at the window. It's... it's..."

"A nightmare," said Emma.

The woman winced. "Yes, a nightmare."

"I'm so sorry." Uncle Paton looked very concerned. "If there's anything... ?

But, of course, you'll soon be away from all this."

"Yes." The young woman smiled at last. She stood aside as a baby's crib was maneuvered through the door. "I'm Lucy Palmer and this is Grace." She held up the baby's hand. "We've found a nice little place a hundred miles away from here and we won't ever come back."

A cheerful-looking young man came through with a rocking chair. "It's all done, Luce," he said. "We can be off soon.... Oh, hello!" He grinned at Uncle Paton and the children.

After introductions were made all around, Uncle Paton explained that they were intending to visit Mr. Hector Bittermouse, who lived next door.

"Not anymore," said the young man, whose name was Darren. "He moved a week ago, along with half the neighbors. Who'd want to live in a place with THEM

on the doorstep?" He too nodded at the turn to Piminy Street.

This was bad news, especially for Emma. She'd had such high hopes. But all was not lost, because Charlie remembered that Hector Bittermouse had a brother, a Mr. Barnaby Bittermouse, who lived at number ten Tigerfield Street.

"Charlie, what an excellent memory you have," Uncle Paton remarked in surprise.

"It's not the sort of thing you can forget," muttered Charlie.

Darren thought he knew a Tigerfield Street. He pointed to the cathedral square, telling them it could be one of the small alleys leading off the road at the back. "I can't be sure," he said. "I thought it had another name, like Tigerfield Way, or Steps, or something."

They said good-bye to Lucy, Darren, and Grace and wished them good luck in their new home. Then they made their way up to Cathedral Close. They had to pass the bookstore on the way, and Uncle Paton was about to stop and look in on Miss Ingledew, when Emma grabbed his arm and said, "Not now, Mr. Yewbeam.

Let's find the other Mr. Bittermouse first."

Uncle Paton frowned. Emma's tone seemed to suggest that something was amiss.

"Is your aunt all right?" he asked.

"Yes, but..." Emma hesitated. "She's been sort of burgled."