'Mr Fogarty!' she called as she pushed the door open.
There was somebody inside, but it wasn't Mr Fogarty.
'Henry!' Blue exclaimed.
Henry jumped visibly. He'd been staring at something in his hand, a funny little black device with rows of numbered buttons on it. Now he glanced at her in surprise and what might have been delight.
'Blue,' he said breathlessly. 'What on earth are you doing here?'
'Looking for Gatekeeper Fogarty,' Blue told him simply.
Henry's eyes went back to the device in his hand. 'They've put him in jail,' he said in a small, astonished voice. 'He's just called me.'
Blue blinked. 'Who's put him in jail?'
Henry looked at her blankly. 'The police. He went out to make some arrangements about his house and now they've put him in jail.'
'They can't put him in jail,' Blue said imperiously. 'He's a Gatekeeper of the Realm.'
'Over here he's just an old-age pensioner who used to rob banks. They can put him in jail all right. He's in a cell at Nutgrove Police Station.'
'I don't have time for this,' Blue snapped. 'We'll have to get him out.'
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Henry stared around him miserably.
'Well, where is it?' Blue demanded.
'It must be round here somewhere,' Henry said. They were in Nutgrove Street, for heaven's sake. Nutgrove Police Station had to be in Nutgrove Street.
'Henry,' Blue hissed. 'I have to find Mr Fogarty. I have to get him back to the Realm.'
'Yes, I know,' Henry said.
What he didn't know was what they were going to do when they found Nutgrove Station. Blue seemed to have the idea they would just march in and demand Mr Fogarty's release.
'Let's try down there,' he suggested.
'We've already been down there,' Blue said. But she followed him as he moved off.
'Blue,' Henry said, 'what's happened?'
Blue's tone softened. 'I don't really know yet. But something's going on. My father's body has disappeared and I think there's a plot to kill Pyrgus. Pyrgus sent me to find Mr Fogarty – we need him.' She hesitated, then added, 'It would be nice to have you as well.'
Henry felt a flush begin to crawl along the back of his neck. 'Do what I can,' he mumbled, wondering just what he might mean by that. He looked about him in a moment of confusion and saw the police station down a side street. 'Oh, there it is!' he said brightly; and the words were swiftly followed by the thought, What are we going to do now?
'Henry,' Blue said, 'what exactly is a police station?'
Henry looked at her, then realised there was no way she could know. 'It's… it's sort of, like police headquarters. I mean, not the overall police headquarters -that's in Scotland Yard or somewhere. It's sort of headquarters for a district..'
'And all the police live there?'
'I don't think they actually live there. It's more like an office they come into.'
'And your police are like our police in the Realm?' Blue said. 'They flog you if you do something wrong and cut off your hand if you're caught stealing? Unless you're a noble, of course.'
'No, I don't think they do that,' Henry said uncertainly.
'Why not? It's pretty silly not to, isn't it?' Blue said. She set off down the side street.
Henry realised he was standing on his own and ran down the side street after her. He caught Blue by the elbow. 'What are you going to do?' he asked urgently. 'You can't just swan in and order them to let Mr Fogarty go.' He caught the expression on her face and stopped himself adding, You're not Princess Royal here, you know.
'I wasn't planning to swan anywhere,' Blue said coldly. She looked into his face and relented, giving a little smile. 'It's all right, Henry – I have some cones with me.'
'Cones?' All he could think of was ice cream, but somehow he didn't believe that was what she meant.
'Spell cones,' Blue said.
Henry felt his jaw drop. 'You're not going to… you're not going to…?'
'Use magic?' Blue prompted. 'Yes, I am.'
'You can't!'
'Why not?'
Why not? Why not? Henry cast around for a reason and couldn't think of one, except that using magic in a police station was probably illegal. Or would be if the police believed in it. Magic was all very well in the Realm where everybody used it, but using magic here -on anybody, let alone a policeman – was just something you didn't -
'What sort of magic?' he asked in a small voice.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Henry felt peculiar. In fact he thought he might be going to be sick. Everything around him looked swimmy and when he moved it was like trying to push against treacle.
'I don't feel so good,' he said. His voice echoed in his head like a hollow gong.
'You'll get used to it,' Blue told him briskly. 'Just follow me.' She moved to the front door of the police station and pushed it firmly. When nothing happened, she turned to look accusingly at Henry. 'This door's locked.'
Henry was trying to remember the last thing he'd eaten. He had an idea he might be about to see it again quite soon. 'They do that now,' he said, 'because of terrorists or something. You can't just walk in. You have to ring the bell and speak into that grille thing when they answer.'
'But if I speak into the grille thing won't they know somebody's here?'
Henry looked at her, wondering if he was going to be able to stand upright much longer. 'That's the whole point,' he said. 'So they can let you in.'
'But I don't want them to know I'm here,' Blue said.
It was all getting too much. Henry's brain described a slow, liquid circle inside his skull. 'Then how are we going to get in?' he managed.
The door opened and a man walked through without glancing at either Blue or Henry. Blue stuck out her foot to stop the door. 'Come on!' she hissed and slipped inside. Henry stared after her stupidly for a moment, then followed as the door began to close.
They were in a waiting area with lino on the floor, chairs at one end and a counter at the other. A uniformed sergeant was standing behind the counter. Behind him a young woman with very short black hair was typing at a desk. Three of the chairs were occupied – two by an elderly couple, the third by a middle-aged man trying unsuccessfully to look like Elvis Presley. Nobody paid the slightest attention to Blue or Henry.
'Right,' Blue said briskly. 'We'd better try to find Mr Fogarty.'
'We can ask the Desk Sergeant,' Henry suggested. All he really wanted was to get out, go home and – hopefully – die.
Blue looked at him strangely through the fog that was swirling round him. 'Are you trying to be funny?'
Henry shook his head. 'No. Why?' He reached out and gripped the back of a chair. The head shake had been a big mistake.
'What's the point of being invisible if we just walk up to the desk and ask?'
The fog cleared a little. Henry stared at her, open-mouthed. 'Invisible?' he echoed.
'What do you think that cone was for?'
'We can't be invisible,' Henry said. 'I can see you perfectly.' The perfectly bit wasn't quite true since his vision was still swimming, but he could certainly see her.
'Well, of course you can see me. I can see you and you can see your hands and I can see my feet because we're both invisible,' Blue said in the tone of one talking to an idiot child, 'and try to keep your voice down – the spell dampens sound, but if you make too much noise they'll hear you. You might try not to break wind again either – people will wonder where the smell is coming from.'
'I didn't break wind!' said Henry hotly. He realised he was speaking loudly and dropped his voice. 'I didn't,' he whispered.