Then a deafening boom rang out Somebody was using a heavy four-bore, its cracking report almost drowning those of the lesser gauges. Fire, reload, fire! Flame stabbed from a dozen or so windows, in a vicious crossfire of angry lead shot, fired by men who could kill a springing teal in the half-light of dawn or dusk simply by snap-shooting. Now they were presented with a target a hundred times larger, almost stationary.
Tom Southgate dropped his gun to the floor. There were no more cartridges. The barrels were almost too hot to hold anyway. Somewhere at the end of Main Street somebody was still shooting. The man with the four-gauge. It was his last cartridge, and the Slime Beast was level with him now. Twenty yards, no more. An easy head shot. His shoulder ached but he punished it again. Dense clouds of black-powder smoke filled the room and hung heavily over the village street.
The Slime Beast moved on, unperturbed.
In the end house a large man was pulling on a dark blue uniform. The silver-plated buttons were more difficult than usual to fasten. He reached for helmet and truncheon, changed his mind and picked up the telephone receiver. This was no matter for a village constable. A higher authority had to be consulted.
CHAPTER NINE
IT was midday when Chief-Inspector Harborne and Detective-Inspector Borg arrived at the blockhouse. They had noted the absence of the Land Rover by the sea-wall and at first glance the concrete building appeared to be deserted. However, just as they were preparing to enter, Professor Lowson appeared in the open doorway. He was unkempt and dressed in an open-necked shirt and ex-cavalry trousers. He gave the impression of just having risen from his bed.
'Good morning gentlemen.'
He was more affable than usual. 'What can I do for you?'
'We've now established beyond all doubt,' Harborne was inclined to be abrupt, dispensing with any formal greeting, 'that there's a dangerous creature on the loose. God only knows where it came from and where it's hiding. Anyway it paid a visit to Sutton village last night, killed a dog... and ate it! Almost everyone who owns a gun opened up on it. They might just as well have used pea-shooters for al the difference it made.'
Professor Lowson lit his pipe and waited for the other to continue.
'Where's Mr Royle and Miss Beck?' Harborne snapped.
'Gone into Spalding for supplies,' Lowson replied, eyeing the two official men keenly. He was far from pleased but managed to conceal his feelings. Too many people were showing an interest hi the Slime Beast for his liking. He made no effort to invite his visitors inside. The sooner they left the better.
"I've called in the Army.' Harborne made no secret of the importance which he felt 'Some heavy artillery and a few soldiers will be moving into the village this afternoon. I have no doubt in my own mind that this creature will return; if not tonight then tomorrow, or the next night. Whichever it is, we'll settle it once and for all. Make no mistake about that! '
Lowson wished they would go. However they did not seem to be in any hurry to depart
'We retrieved the remains of Glover yesterday afternoon,' Harborne growled. 'On the face of it it appeared to have been the work of a homicidal maniac again. Terribly mutilated but that foul slime had disappeared completely. Never seems to last more than a few hours. We've got a top boffin down from London, but he can't fathom it out either. Any ideas?'
'Search me!' Lowson gave a hollow laugh. 'Everybody else seems to think it's come from outer space. Might as well go along with that idea. It's as good as any.'
'It's crazy. There's got to be a logical down-to-earth explanation. No doubt we']! find one when we nail this monster once and for all. Sightseers are flocking in from everywhere. Word soon gets around, and that fellow Southgate's making a bomb out of it. He sold more beer this morning than he's sold all year. He's fully booked up too. There's caravans and campers all over the place.'
Lowson fumed inwardly. Bloody interfering busybodies. Just when he wanted to be left alone. One more night, that was all he asked. A chance to drop the net over the Slime Beast. After that it wouldn't matter any more.
'Which brings me to another point,' Harborne went on.
'I'm not too happy about you lot camping out here. Especially the girl Mr Royle informed me yesterday that you've had a couple of close scrapes already. It isn't worth the risk. Move out for a couple of days. Professor. Just give us a chance to clear this whole business up and then you can come back in peace.'
'Certainly not!' Lowson's eyes blazed and his beard bristled. 'I am here for a specific purpose. This expedition is in the interests of the public. I have a job to do and I intend to do it no matter what. I don't give a damn for space monsters or whatever you call them!'
'You're a bloody fool,' Harborne snarled, 'like all these other idiots who've moved in today. You're just asking to get yourself killed I could get an order to move you but why the hell should I? I've got enough to do as it is without worrying about you lot.'
With that he stormed off back across the saltings followed by the silent Detective-Inspector Borg. Lowson stood in the doorway and watched until they were mere dots along the sea-wall.
He knocked the ash out of his pipe and went back indoors. Damn them. Damn them .all! He would still capture the Slime Beast, no matter what
It was just after three o'clock when Gavin and Liz returned. Their growing tenseness had been eased by temporary jubilation at the successful purchase of a flame-gun.
'Even if it did take us six shops to find one, we got it in the end,' Liz joked as they approached the blockhouse,
Gavin was carrying their latest weapon in the war against the Slime Beast wrapped up in brown paper.
'Better not let your uncle see this,' he murmured, 'the old devil's up to something himself, I'm sure. He didn't spend all night out on the salt-marshes for nothing.
They went inside. The place was empty. Even the tobacco smoke filling the Professor's compartment was stale.
'He's gone off somewhere,' Liz muttered, 'been gone an hour or two by the staleness of this pipe smoke.'
'Well in that case,' said Gavin, wrapping their parcel inside a bundle of blankets, 'I'm going to take a quick dekko inside his quarters.'
'It seems a bit sly.'
'To hell with that! No doubts he's been poking through our stuff while we've been out. In fact I'm sure of it. Come on!'
Professor Lowson's concrete cubicle was a mass of papers and books. Sheets and sheets of foolscap were covered with his sprawling handwriting, but Gavin gave them scarcely a glance. He would not be able to decipher them anyway. In fact he did not know what he was looking for until he found it, and even then it was some seconds before he recognised the object.
'Why, it's a big square of fishing-net!' he exclaimed after he had unravelled the bundle which they had found beneath a couple of packing-cases. 'Now just look at these. Tied on all four corners. Grappling hooks. What the devil's he up to?'
'He's going to try and catch the Slime Beast alive with it!'
'Christ Almighty!' Realisation dawned on Gavin. 'So that's why he was out half the night. Crazy, but it might just work.'
Suddenly a shadow filled the small doorway. They whirled round in alarm.
'Hah!' There was triumph and sarcasm in Professor Lowson's voice. 'So you have decided to rifle my belongings eh?'
Gavin decided that the best form of defence was attack.
'Now let's get this straight Professor,' he snapped as Liz began to blush with guilt 'As members of your expedition, supposedly to locate King John's treasure, we've a right to know what's going on. You seem to have forgotten all about our original reason for coming here. You're obsessed with this Slime Beast Hoping to catch it alive with your net, eh? Like a minnow in a rock pool. You must be stark raving mad. This place is crawling with monster-hunters. The army has moved into Sutton, and set up defences in the middle of the village street, all loaded up with armour-piercing shells, grenades and the lot. What chance do you think you stand with a bloody fishing net?'