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“This is Miss Montague,” Tina said cheerfully. “She knows everything there is to know, when it comes to ruining a monster’s day.”

“Oh hush, child,” said Miss Montague. “I just have a gift for death and destruction.”

Miss Montague was a gray-haired little old lady, in a nice cardigan with puppies on it. She had a pleasant face and an easy manner, and the kind of bright eyes you just knew didn’t miss a thing. Daniel had to keep fighting down an urge to tell her that the dog had eaten his homework. He was pretty sure Hydes didn’t do that. Miss Montague sat behind a desk—on which all the paperwork had been ruthlessly sorted into In and Out trays—knitting something long and shapeless. The needles clacked loudly, never pausing, all the time she talked to Daniel and Tina.

“Back again so soon, dear?” she said cheerfully to Tina. “You can’t have used up everything I gave you last time, or most of London wouldn’t still be here.”

“We are finally ready to take down the Vampire Clan,” said Tina, just as cheerfully. “What strange and appalling weapons would you recommend for us?”

“I recommend that you stick to the basics, dear,” Miss Montague said firmly. “I always say, you can’t go wrong if you stick to the basics. And always carry extra ammunition.”

“Can I have this?” said Daniel. “I really like the look of this.”

The compressed-air machine pistol that fired miniature wooden stakes had all but jumped off the shelf into his hand. It looked like something he could do some serious damage with, and he really liked the idea of being able to stake vampires from a safe distance.

“Oh, you don’t want that, dear,” said Miss Montague. “The gears are always jamming, and it has an unfortunate tendency to blow back and perforate the user.”

Daniel reluctantly put the machine pistol back where he found it. Tina picked up a flashlight with a really large battery pack.

“What does this do?”

“Theoretically, it generates special wavelengths of light designed to undo the effects of a full moon, and force a werewolf back into its human form,” said Miss Montague.

“And does it?” said Daniel.

“Not noticeably,” said Miss Montague. “It just makes bits of their fur fall out. The only reason our last tester wasn’t killed was because the wolf pack couldn’t chase him for laughing.”

Tina put the lamp back, while Daniel picked up a pair of scissors that smelled strongly of spices.

“And these?”

“Specially treated to cut the bandages off a living mummy,” Miss Montague said patiently. “Providing you can get close enough.”

Daniel put the scissors down again, and gave Miss Montague his very best hard look.

“Does anything here work?”

“Of course, dear! It wouldn’t be much of an armory if we couldn’t supply you with something absolutely guaranteed to rain on a monster’s picnic. But it’s not like there’s a manual when it comes to developing new ways of disposing of vampires, werewolves, and mummies. We are constantly trying out new methods and tactics, but in the end it all comes down to trial and error.” She shook her gray-haired head sadly. “We get through more field agents that way . . . which is why I always say, stick to the basics. You always know where you are, with the basics.”

“At least tell me you have another bomb for us,” said Daniel. “Preferably something even more powerful than the one we just used to destroy the Frankensteins.”

Miss Montague smiled modestly. “It did do the job nicely, didn’t it? Took the top right off that hotel. I saw it on the news. Apparently all kinds of terrorist organizations have come forward to claim responsibility, which is always helpful in our line of work. And it served the hotel right; you wouldn’t believe what they charged me for using the minibar, the last time I stayed there. And the porn channel was a great disappointment. But that bomb was merely a standard whizzbang. I have something much more emphatic for you, this time.” And then she broke off from her knitting, to look sharply at Tina. “Please put that down, dear. We don’t want a nasty incident, do we?”

“But what is it?” said Tina.

“A black hole in a jam jar.”

Tina put the jar back on the shelf, very carefully. “Really?”

“It’s a very special kind of jam jar,” said Miss Montague. She sighed quietly, put aside her knitting, and got to her feet. “I can see I’m going to have to sort out what you need personally, if we’re to avoid sudden bangs and unpleasant stains on the carpet. Not that there are any carpets, despite all the forms I’ve filled in. Come along with me, dears—and from now on don’t touch anything if you like having fingers.”

When she came out from behind her desk, to stand blinking mildly in the gloomy passageway, Miss Montague turned out to be barely five feet tall. But her back was straight and her gaze was still sharp as she bustled between the towering shelves, making sudden turns without warning or hesitation. This was her territory, and she knew every inch of it. While Daniel wasn’t even sure which way he’d come in. Miss Montague did pause briefly to coo affectionately at a cat dozing on a low shelf. Tina put out a hand to pet it, and her hand went straight through.

“Ghost cat,” said Miss Montague. “See where curiosity gets you?”

But Tina had already stopped listening to her, having become far more interested in something else. She strode over to a large wooden case, half hidden in the shadows, and studied it curiously.

“What is this?”

Daniel moved over to join her. The long, rectangular box was blunt and basic, with no detailing, apart from a really big padlock to hold the heavy lid securely in place.

“It looks like a coffin,” he said slowly. “Only twice the normal size. It has to be at least ten feet long, maybe more. Miss Montague, why do you have a giant coffin in your armory?”

“It’s not a coffin, as such,” said Miss Montague. “It’s a container. Built to provide long-term storage, for a very important specimen.”

“You mean there’s someone alive in there?” said Tina, studying the long box with even more interest.

“Not someone,” said Miss Montague. “Something. Now please come along, dears. That really isn’t anything you want to mess with.”

“Oh, I really think I do,” said Tina. “Edward never mentioned anything to me before about a coffin in the armory, and if it’s that secret I want to know all about it.”

She stood before the coffin with her arms folded firmly, in a way that suggested she was perfectly prepared to stand there until hell froze over and congealed, if that was what it took to get an answer. Miss Montague pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily, recognising someone just as stubborn as herself.

“Well if you must know . . . ”

“Oh, I must,” said Tina. “I really must. Or I won’t sleep at night.”

“It all goes back to when Dr. Jekyll was creating his Elixir,” said Miss Montague. “You don’t just test a new drug on yourself and see what happens. You try it out first on a test animal.”

“And the original test animal is what’s inside this coffin?” said Daniel.

“Yes, dear. But it’s really not a coffin. As such.”

“But why is there a really big padlock on this coffin, Miss Montague?” Tina said sweetly. She leaned over to study it, and then straightened up abruptly to stare suspiciously at Miss Montague. “Is the lock there to keep something from getting out? Is the test animal still alive?”

“An interesting question,” said Miss Montague, “given that the box has been securely sealed for longer than I care to think. I suppose it’s like Schrödinger’s famous cat: there’s no way of knowing whether the subject is alive or dead until you open the lid. But I really wouldn’t recommend it. The creature could be very angry, after being locked in there for so long. Not to mention extremely hungry.”