Read The Borribles: Across the Dark Metropolis Online
Authors: Michael de Larrabeiti
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic
The Borribles: Across the Dark Metropolis (34 page)
BOOK: The Borribles: Across the Dark Metropolis
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Hanks, by way of celebration, winkled something out of a nostril and held it close to his eye in order to compare it with the hundreds of other soft things he had discovered up his nose in the past. Absentmindedly he wiped it on the rags that covered the Queen Mum’s back. ‘Pretty good one that,’ said the Sergeant. ‘It’s amazing where they all come from.’ Then he grabbed the old tramp by her hair and dragged her upright. ‘What shall I do with the prisoner, sir?’ he asked.
Sussworth stopped clicking his heels on the floor and stared at the Queen Mum for a couple of seconds while he made up his mind. ‘Why,’ he said at length, ‘send her down to C Division, of course; she’s a murder suspect.’
There was a loud cry and the Queen Mum fainted, slipping from Hank’s grasp. She lay on the floor, her old face a solid skull with deep black pits in it.
Officer Blume saluted again. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘C Division?
C Division is Birdlime’s division, sir. Well, why should we do him any favours? He’s going to look very good if he solves that King’s Cross murder … whereas if we catch the Borribles we’ll be unbeatable, sir.’ The constable lowered his voice so that the Queen Mum should not hear though she looked as close to unconsciousness as made no difference. ‘We can hold the old bag while we check her story, then, if what she says is true, we can let her go, for a week or two, and then pick her up again. That way we get the Borribles and, after a suitable lapse of time, we’ll solve Birdlime’s murder for him. We’ll be as shiny as a new coin and he’ll look about as useful as a cup of yesterday’s cocoa.’
C Division is Birdlime’s division, sir. Well, why should we do him any favours? He’s going to look very good if he solves that King’s Cross murder … whereas if we catch the Borribles we’ll be unbeatable, sir.’ The constable lowered his voice so that the Queen Mum should not hear though she looked as close to unconsciousness as made no difference. ‘We can hold the old bag while we check her story, then, if what she says is true, we can let her go, for a week or two, and then pick her up again. That way we get the Borribles and, after a suitable lapse of time, we’ll solve Birdlime’s murder for him. We’ll be as shiny as a new coin and he’ll look about as useful as a cup of yesterday’s cocoa.’
Sussworth stopped jerking his body up and down and placed his hands on his hips. He advanced slowly towards the constables.
‘Officer,’ he said, his face paralysed with wonder, ‘you are a mindreader, a talented mind-reader. I have to admit that you have made an excellent exposition of what was going through my brain at this particular and actual moment in time. My suggestion was merely a test of your powers of thought, a probing of your loyalty to the SBG esbrie de corpse. Mark my verbals, Blume, when all this is over you’ll be Sergeant Blume. Hanks could do with an assistant.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
The inspector celebrated this latest achievement with a tango step and then trotted over to his map of London. ‘Listen carefully,’ he said. ‘Here are your orders. I want the stations above and below Swiss Cottage blocked off and the exit and entrance to the LMR tunnel as well. Telephone London Transport and tell them that a gang of villains has gone to earth at Swiss Cottage and until we’ve got them out the power will have to be cut off in that section. Send officers to every station on the Bakerloo and stop commuters using the trains. Telephone the Yard for reinforcements, and, Hanks, round up all the dwarfs you can find at short notice. Get that Nonch fellow here.’
‘The dwarfs, sir?’
‘Yes, Hanks, why should our men take all the risks? I’ll send those dwarfs in as a first wave, that’s what Rommel would have done … Find out where the Borribles are hiding, flush them into the open. By the time our chaps move in the dwarfs will have done half the work. This time I want no mistakes. This is my finest hour.’
‘Of course, sir. Brilliant, sir. Shall I inform the DAC?’
‘No, no, no! Certainly not, Hanks. The DAC doesn’t want to know how it’s done, he just wants to know that it is done. Above all he does not want to know about dwarfs … Make sure the men realize that, whatever happens. All he wants at the end of the day is a fate accomplice, got that? Now, any questions?’
‘Yessir,’ said Hanks. ‘What shall we do with this prisoner?’ He indicated the silent form on the floor.
‘Ha, yes,’ said Sussworth. In his excitement he had completely forgotten about the Queen Mum. ‘Keep her in custody until we know for sure the Borribles are where she said they were, then throw her back on the streets. Right now there is more important work to do.’ The inspector smirked at the photographs of Rommel and Monty. ‘This time we knock ’em for six,’ he said, and quickly pulling on his long overcoat he left the caravan to assemble his men and organize his patrol cars and vans.
The moment the inspector had gone Officer Blume grabbed the Queen Mum by the scruff of the neck, hauled her to her feet and pushed her towards the open door. Sergeant Hanks picked up the telephone and spoke to Scotland Yard, slipping an eager finger into a wide nostril. The Adventurers did not know it but the greatest danger they had ever faced was coming closer and closer.
The same darkness as before filled the disused tunnel and the Adventurers were ill at ease in it. Such a darkness was difficult to live with, suffocating and soft, but the fugitives were obliged to make the best of it. They had no option and nowhere else to go. It was daylight now and there would be no hiding place for them or the horse on the streets above. All they could do for the time being was eat what was left of their provisions, drink the tin-tasting water from the old tap, and draw lots to see who should sleep and who should stand guard.
For a long while there was quiet in the lost space behind the old
control cabin, a strange prickly quiet, and only the distant thunder of the trains on the Bakerloo line disturbed it, and only occasionally did that same thunder cause a stream of fine dust to pour from the loose bricks of the roof and add itself to the thick carpet of stone dirt already lying deep on the ground.
control cabin, a strange prickly quiet, and only the distant thunder of the trains on the Bakerloo line disturbed it, and only occasionally did that same thunder cause a stream of fine dust to pour from the loose bricks of the roof and add itself to the thick carpet of stone dirt already lying deep on the ground.
At last some of the Adventurers went to explore the two deserted trains that stood, rusty, in the sidings. There they soon discovered that the closed doors could be forced open and that in the carriages the long wide seats made comfortable beds, providing them with the best day’s sleep they had enjoyed since leaving Battersea.
Those who remained awake sat at the rough workbenches, resting their heads in their hands, talking in low tones, not shining their torches and not daring to think even that Neasden was only a night’s march away.
Two Borribles were on sentry-go: Napoleon on the far side of the trains, staring round a bend towards the lights of Swiss Cottage station, and Bingo who watched the back road, peering into the blackness of the tunnel which took the LMR line from Marylebone Road right up to West Hampstead. It would not do to be caught napping at this late stage in the game; the Adventurers had only to get through the day and then they would be on the final lap. Unfortunately it was not to be that easy; it was not to be that straightforward.
Sometime during the mid-morning of that day Knocker raised his head; he had heard a Borrible whistle coming from Napoleon’s direction. He heard someone curse in the dark and the Wendle came round the side of the control cabin at speed. Knocker swivelled on his chair as did the others who sat near him: Chalotte, Vulge and Twilight.
Napoleon flicked his torch on and off, just to show his face. It was angry. ‘Have you noticed?’ he asked.
‘Noticed what?’ said Knocker.
‘The trains,’ retorted Napoleon. ‘They’ve stopped; I haven’t heard one for about half an hour.’
‘You’re right,’ said Sydney. She was sitting on the ground by the horse, against the wall.
‘I went right up dose to the station when I realized,’ went on Napoleon, ‘right close … There’s a lot of blokes on the platform, blokes in uniform, Woollies, hundreds of ’em.’
‘We’ve been shopped,’ said Chalotte.
‘Too bloody right,’ agreed Napoleon. ‘Queenie! Who else could it be? I said we should have brought her with us, or slit her throat.’
‘Perhaps we can get out the way we came in,’ said Chalotte, ‘before they close the tunnel that end.’
It was the only chance they had but it was scotched at that very moment by the arrival of Bingo, running as fast as he could, his torch beam cutting across the darkness. He halted by the table, gulping for air. ‘I went up the tunnel,’ he began, ‘to explore … I heard some noises and back where this tunnel joins the Marylebone one there’s lights, a barrier, blokes in uniform. Coppers. What about the other way?’
‘We’re rats in a trap,’ said Napoleon. ‘There’s just this tunnel and we’re in the middle of it and there’s Woollies at each end. It’s the end of the line all right.’
‘Oh no,’ cried Sydney. ‘Not now, not when we’re almost there. They’ll get Sam for sure this time. I don’t care for me but—’
‘I care for me,’ said Napoleon. ‘I care a lot.’
Vulge struck the workbench with his fist. ‘Fancy marching so far and struggling so hard just to end up here … in this filthy hole in the ground, just to die in this shitty pit.’
‘Well,’ said Twilight, ‘at least we got Sam away from Sussworth. He’s had some freedom, even if it was only for a little while.’
Knocker got to his feet and picked up two bandoliers of stones from the table; he slipped them over his shoulder. ‘That’s not enough,’ he said. ‘We shouldn’t have to die, we shouldn’t have to lose our ears and Sara shouldn’t have to be turned into catsmeat, not for any reason at all. It ain’t right.’
‘One thing’s on our side,’ said Napoleon. ‘They’re going to have to fight us in the dark and that won’t be too easy for ’em.’ And as Napoleon spoke there was a whirring noise in the vaulted roof and a pale and sickly light flickered over the Borribles, disappeared and then flickered again, hesitated and then steadied to become a pallid whiteness that gave no shade. The Adventurers glanced upwards. There in the roof shone long tubes of fluorescent lighting, stretching away as far as the eye could see; tracer bullets along the tunnel.
The Adventurers looked at each other, the blood driven from their faces by this light that had no pity in it. Now they could see the bleakness of the spot to which their fate had directed them: the dirt and the dust, the broken and abandoned tools, the piles of rubbish and the sacks of cement.
There was worse to come, a noise this time, a metallic whining that split the white light in two. The Borribles leapt to their feet and the noise came again, humming and crackling loudly before at last dying away with a plaintive whistling. Someone tapped on a microphone. then, and blew and tapped again. A voice resonated through some faraway speakers, counting: ‘One, two, three, four; testing, testing. Can you hear me?’ It was Sussworth’s voice and it skated along the walls of the tunnel, howling and wowing and turning over and over, looping the loop until finally it banged against the eardrums of the Borribles where they stood, rooted to the spot in fear and surprise.
‘Can you hear us, Borribles,’ Sussworth’s voice boomed, ‘because we know you’re there; your friend Queenie told us. Just goes to show that you can’t trust anyone, doesn’t it?’ A splutter broke in on Sussworth’s words; he was laughing and a strange thin laughter it was, whipping through the air like barbed wire uncoiling.
‘Now listen,’ continued Sussworth when he had recovered himself. ‘This time there is no escape. I have men at this end and men behind you, hundreds of men and all the reserves I need. Lay down your catapults and march straight down here to Swiss Cottage and give yourselves up. You will be well looked after and no harm will come to you … except of course for the statutory removal of the aural appendages, but that does go without saying.’ Sussworth was silent for a moment, as if he expected an answer through the microphone. When he received none he went on.
‘You have five minutes to surrender,’ he said. ‘Walk into this station with your hands on your heads. If you comply with this request your horse will be spared and put out to graze in a special horse hotel and there he will live out the rest of his days in tranquillity. Fortunate horse.’
‘Baloney,’ said Napoleon.
‘But,’ the voice resumed, ‘if these five minutes of time elapse without
your surrender I shall renege on my offer for the horse, and you know what his fate will be then as well as I do. He will end up catsmeat as guaranteed, in tins weighing two hundred and fifty grams, as advertised. Five minutes only or I send in my first wave of shock troops to flush you from your rat holes. Nooch and his dwarfs are ready and eager to come looking for you … but, friends, let it not come to that. Surrender and avoid bloodshed.’
your surrender I shall renege on my offer for the horse, and you know what his fate will be then as well as I do. He will end up catsmeat as guaranteed, in tins weighing two hundred and fifty grams, as advertised. Five minutes only or I send in my first wave of shock troops to flush you from your rat holes. Nooch and his dwarfs are ready and eager to come looking for you … but, friends, let it not come to that. Surrender and avoid bloodshed.’
There was a silence followed by a click and the speakers went dead.
Knocker took his catapult from his back pocket; the others did the same. ‘This is our last battle,’ he said. ‘Has anyone got a plan, for I haven’t. I don’t know what to do. I never felt so rotten in my life.’
There was a sound of footsteps by the control cabin and Stonks, Torreycanyon and Orococco arrived. They had been sleeping in the trains but the lights had woken them. They had heard Sussworth’s speech too and knew what danger they were in.
‘There’s nothing to be done,’ said Stonks, ‘except fight and try to make sure those stinking dwarfs have nothing to crow about.’
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ said Chalotte, her voice a wail of despair. ‘I can’t believe it. How did it come to this?’
‘It came, that’s all,’ said Napoleon bitterly. ‘I say we get down by the front of the trains and wait for Ninch and his mates. Sydney could stay back here with Sam; that way if anyone tries to take us in the rear she can give us the whistle.’
‘It’s got to be worth a go, man,’ said Orococco.
‘A go is all we’ll get,’ said Knocker. He sounded empty, devoid of hope. ‘The dwarfs are only to soften us up. Once the coppers get in they’ll have helmets and riot shields and all. Our catapults won’t be any good against them.’
‘Hide and seek to the death,’ said Napoleon.
‘And Sam,’ said Sydney. ‘Is it the end for him too?’
Chalotte sighed. ‘A lot of things are going to come to an end today, Sid,’ she said. ‘All you can do is hide him over there against the wall, behind that big pile of rubbish, then keep a watch on the tunnel for us. At least you’ll be with Sam at the very last.’
‘Let’s go,’ said Stonks. ‘Get it over with.’
‘When it starts going bad,’ said Knocker, ‘we’ll rally round the front
of the cabin. That way we’ll be able to see ’em coming from both directions and we’ll have a wall at our backs.’
of the cabin. That way we’ll be able to see ’em coming from both directions and we’ll have a wall at our backs.’
There was no better plan than this and it was immediately agreed. Silently the Borribles moved to take up their positions, facing the southbound tunnel from where it was thought the first attack would come. As they walked to the battlefield the nine friends decided to split their forces into three groups as they had done at the scrapyard: Orococco, Twilight and Bingo in the first group, Torreycanyon, Stonks and Vulge in the second; Chalotte, Knocker and Napoleon in the third.
‘That’ll make sure,’ explained the Wendle, ‘that them dwarfs don’t know where we are exactly.’ He glanced beyond the others, looking at the roof of a carriage, his face crafty. ‘And we three could hide up there,’ he said.
Now that the lights had been switched on there was in fact a good view from the top of the trains. The two sidings were in a wider area than the tunnel itself so there was a kind of open space of about seventy yards square lying just in front of the carriages, though eventually this space narrowed down into a single track which led onwards to Swiss Cottage and the main Bakerloo line.
It was not possible however for the Adventurers to see very far into that Swiss Cottage tunnel. Although it too was lit by the same fluorescent lighting as illuminated the control cabin section, it also curved rather sharply on its way to the station. The enemy, when they came, would not be visible until they turned the corner, about a couple of hundred paces distant from where the Borribles waited.
Knocker and Chalotte followed Napoleon to the roof of the carriage he had chosen and all three lay on their stomachs. Below them and over to one side they could see Twilight, Orococco and Bingo taking cover behind two large packing cases that had been dumped against the wall. Somewhere to the left, Torreycanyon, Stonks and Vulge were hiding behind the wheels of the second train.
‘Let them get out into the open before we fire,’ Knocker called. ‘Don’t want to frighten the little bleeders.’ Then he settled down to wait, and so did his companions.
Sussworth’s five minutes soon elapsed and when the dwarfs came they came quietly, moving cautiously along the tracks, the thick stone
dust deadening every footfall. They stepped from sleeper to sleeper, they searched every alcove let into the walls and they peered into every shadow. In their hands they carried long wooden truncheons and they wore green jackets made of luminous plastic so that the police would know them from Borribles in the heat of battle.
dust deadening every footfall. They stepped from sleeper to sleeper, they searched every alcove let into the walls and they peered into every shadow. In their hands they carried long wooden truncheons and they wore green jackets made of luminous plastic so that the police would know them from Borribles in the heat of battle.
The dwarfs—there seemed to be about twenty of them—were led to the end of the tunnel by Ninch himself. When he arrived at the edge of the open space he halted, held up his hand and gazed suspiciously at the two trains that stood before him.
‘We know you’re there, Borribles,’ he shouted. ‘You might as well give up, you’re outnumbered and surrounded.’
There was no answer. Each Borrible lay motionless in his hiding place, face down, stone and catapult ready. Ninch waited; he shouted again.
‘You can’t fight all of us, we’re stronger than you; you might as well give in.’
Still there was no response so Ninch raised his hand once more and the dwarfs moved into the open, spreading to right and left, heading for the trains and stepping over the criss-cross of the tracks, lifting their feet high over the conductor rail although they all knew there was no power in it. Their truncheons were held at the ready, their eyes were everywhere.
They drew level at last with the packing cases and still everything remained quiet. They came to within ten yards or so of the front carriages and Ninch called out his orders.
‘Remember, dwarfs. Get to grips with ’em. Don’t let ’em use their catapults.’
‘Oh no?’ yelled Bingo, and he suddenly appeared from his hiding place, his catapult ready in his hand. ‘Well cop this!’ And so saying he fired at Ninch and a stone struck the chief dwarf in the chest and he staggered backwards. As Bingo released his shot Twilight and Orococco appeared also and each of their missiles struck a dwarf and knocked some of the bravado out of them.
BOOK: The Borribles: Across the Dark Metropolis
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