Cowley opened the sliding doors of what appeared to be a metal cage and gestured for Billy and Charley to move into the small dark cave beyond. The butler stepped inside with them and then closed the doors with an ominous clang. The lift floor shuddered and, with a creak and groan of pulleys, it began to slowly rise, just as their spirits fell. They both felt it, not just Billy with his sixth sense. Some buildings can be rotted by damp; the joists and the floorboards – the bones of the house – silently decaying until the whole thing collapses. 44 Morningside Place was being eaten away by something darker and far more deadly.
Billy leaned in towards Charley and whispered, “What have we got ourselves into this time, Duchess?”
“And this is His Lordship’s Egyptian hall,” said Cowley, as they completed the grand tour of 44 Morningside Place. The butler opened the door for them but Billy placed a warning hand on Charley’s shoulder.
“What is it?” asked Charley.
“Echoes of the tomb,” said Billy softly.
Although she didn’t have her partner’s “gift”, Charley understood – he was sensing something dangerous. She paused…and then went straight in. That was what S.C.R.E.A.M. detectives did.
Cowley had explained that some items had been destroyed when the mummy went on its rampage but there was still cabinet after cabinet full of Egyptian treasures. Pottery and jewellery and fragments of the past. Racks of gleaming weapons, statues of strange gods and beautiful women. And gold. So much gold. It was breathtaking. But what really held Charley’s attention were the dead things.
Wrapped in rotting bandages they were assembled at the far end of the hall, like the strangest family that ever lived. Or died. From their outlines Charley could recognize the preserved remains of a cat, a monkey and a baby crocodile. Behind this disturbing gathering stood an upright coffin. Its door was open and its occupant was gone.
Beside her, Billy took a shuddering breath, but kept his thoughts to himself.
“Billy,” she said, turning. But Billy wasn’t there any more.
He was moving like a sleepwalker towards the open casket, heavy-footed and clumsy. His legs were stiff, as if he was suffering from rigor mortis, Charley recognized with horror; the rigidity that came over a corpse when the life had drained away.
“Billy,” she said, louder this time, following him. If Billy heard her then he didn’t show it. Charley spun her wheels and drew level with him. Billy was panting in short, sharp bursts. And this close she could see the trembling in his fingertips. His eyes were impossibly wide, the pupils expanded into deep dark holes, seeing only the sarcophagus – or perhaps into the spirit world beyond.
Cowley caught up with them. “Are ye all right, Master Flint?” he said.
Charley shushed him urgently. “I’ve seen him like this before,” she said. “We mustn’t wake him from the trance.”
Billy’s expression grew more intense. Now his eyes rolled up into his head until only the whites were showing and his eyelids fluttered rapidly. Charley hated to see Billy like this; whatever was happening to her friend, it looked like torture. And still Billy’s focus remained on the empty sarcophagus…the last earthly resting place of the marauding mummy.
Billy continued to stumble forwards. Then suddenly, after half a dozen faltering paces, he picked up speed until he was half running, half falling towards that terrible open coffin.
Billy reached the sarcophagus. He stepped inside and turned around to face them, his eyes screwed tightly shut. Long seconds passed while he stood where the dead Egyptian had stood. Then his eyes sprang open again, wide and staring. Billy’s jaw twitched.
“For those who dare disturb my tomb, Remember you have sealed your doom!” he chanted.
Charley’s hands clenched into fists as the message from beyond the grave vibrated inside her soul. The ripples spread out through 44 Morningside Place, until it seemed that every timber, every brick resonated with the mummy’s curse.
Cowley was rooted to the spot. The blood had drained from his cheeks, leaving his face as grey and cold as the grave.
The message delivered, Billy dropped to the ground. Lifeless. Charley rushed to him. Leaning over the side of her chair, she placed one hand on his cheek, rousing him gently. “I’m here, partner,” she said.
Billy woke with a gasp and sat bolt upright. He looked confused, as if he was struggling to make sense of the world around him.
“Billy,” said Charley soothingly. “It’s me, Charley.”
Billy stared at her as if they had never met, then, with another blink, the light of recognition dawned. “It’s real,” said Billy. “The mummy, the curse, all of it.”
Charley nodded. She was a scientist at heart but she was also a S.C.R.E.A.M. detective. She knew that science had only begun to scratch the surface of the mysteries of the universe.
“We can solve this,” she said, but her voice wavered slightly as she said it.
“Yes,” said Billy, squeezing her hand, hearing the tremble in her voice. “I’m afraid too.”
“Blast,” said Charley. Back in her room after the tour of the house, she was rifling through her suitcase for the third time with growing irritation. But it wasn’t there. She felt a sudden pang of emptiness.
It was silly, Charley knew – it was only a small piece of silver. But it was something she treasured and she always carried it with her. Her father had given it to her and when she held it in her hand, she imagined that he was near.
“Blast and damn!”
Where was it? She remembered having it at the hotel because she’d shoved it into her bag when they had to get out in such a hurry.
“What’s the matter?” asked Billy, arriving in the doorway.
“I can’t find my watch.”
“The little pendant you wear round your neck? You had it on the train, I’m sure.” Billy frowned. “It’ll come to light,” he said hopefully.
He was about to help her look when Doogie knocked on the door. “If you’d care to follow me,” he said, “Sir Gordon has rearranged the conservatory so that ye have an area to work in.”
Charley smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Be a good chap and carry these down for me too, please.” She indicated her precious microscope and the bags containing some of her books and chemicals. “I collected a rather interesting sample at Lady Fitzpatrick’s and I’m keen to unravel its secrets.”
“Oooh,” said Billy. “I’m intrigued.”
“It’s that tiny strand of cloth fibre I told you about.”
“Uh-huh. I’m slightly less excited now.”
Doogie hesitated. He still hadn’t picked up Charley’s microscope.
“Is there a problem?” Charley asked.
“No, miss, but…I don’t think ye’ll be needin’ it.”
“Why ever not?”
“His Lordship has a surprise for ye. It’s best if ye just come and look.”
They returned to the lift. Cowley was out, walking Wellington apparently. Doogie closed the doors and, with the usual creaking and groaning of the suspension cables, the lift juddered down to the ground floor.
“This way,” said Doogie, bouncing ahead of them down the corridor. Charley paused at a huge portrait of Sir Gordon. She smiled. Though it was definitely Sir Gordon, the artist had been very kind, making His Lordship taller and much slimmer than he was in real life. “He looks a real Skinny Malinky long legs,” Doogie chuckled.
When they had wiped the grins from their faces, Doogie took them the rest of the way, finally stopping at a set of double doors. Doogie turned the handle and flung them wide. “Welcome to the crime lab!”
Charley gasped. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Like every room in 44 Morningside Place, Sir Gordon’s conservatory was full of surprises.