The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse (15 page)

'I hope it's a good one,' said Jack. 'I'm getting my trenchcoat all dusty.'

'It's a great one,' said Eddie. 'I'll explain it to you on the •way.'

'The way to where?'

'The way to where we steal the police car.'

There was a really nice police car parked near by, as it happened. It was a Mark 7 Fairlane Cruiser, pressed steel construction, hand-enamelled in black and white, with a nickel-plated grille and brass roof bell. It was all polished up and the pride and joy of a certain Special Constable named Chortle. Jack had no trouble at all picking the lock on the driver's door.

'I feel utterly confident that this will work,' said Eddie as he slid into the police car beside Jack.

'And what makes you feel so utterly confident?' Jack enquired.

'My natural optimism. Do the business, Jack.'

'Righty right,' said Jack. And he took up the little microphone that hung beneath the dashboard. He held it between his fingers and viewed it disdainfully. It was just a plastic nubbin attached to a piece of string. 'How can this work?' he asked.

'You just speak into it. You can talk to the police at the police station.'

'How?' Jack asked.

'With your mouth,' said Eddie.

Jack shrugged. 'Hello,' he said.

'Hello,' said Eddie.

'No, I'm saying hello into this silly pretend microphone on the piece of string.'

'Very professional,' said Eddie. 'Very good.'

'Hello,' said a voice.

'How did you do that without moving your mouth?’ Jack asked.

'It's the police station, talk to them.'

Jack shook his head. 'Right,' he said. 'Emergency! Emergency!'

'Who's that saying emergency?' asked the voice.

'Me,' said Jack. 'Who's that asking?'

'Me,' said the voice.

'Officer down!' shouted Jack.

'That's not my name,' said the voice. 'I'm Officer Chuckles. And there's no need to shout.'

'There's every need to shout,' shouted Jack. 'I said
officer down!
An officer's down!'

'A downy officer?' said the voice. 'An officer covered in down?'

Jack put his hand over the microphone. 'Have you got any other great ideas?' he asked Eddie. 'This isn't going to work.'

'Yes it is. Explain in urgent tones that you are at the fire at the Clockwork Car Company showrooms. And that the
woman
who started the fire, the same woman who murdered Humpty, Boy Blue and Madame Goose, is attacking officers. Give a full description of her and demand lots of assistance. Do it, Jack.'

Jack did it. 'Send every officer you have,' he said. 'And quickly.'

'Ten-four,’ said the voice in the affirmative.

'There,' said Eddie. 'Job done. Now all we have to do is sit here and wait for things to happen.'

'But she's not attacking any officers,' said Jack.

'Well, she sort-of-will-be.'

'How can she sort-of-will-be?'

'If she's attacking a police car, then that's almost the same as attacking a police officer.'

'I suppose so,' said Jack. 'But why should she be attacking a police car?'

'Because
we're
in it. I saw her following us through the crowd just before I had my great idea.'

'What?' said Jack.

'Here she comes,' said Eddie, pointing. 'Lock the doors, Jack.'

'Oh no.’ Jack made haste with the door lockings.

The woman in the feathered headpiece, and Jack was in no doubt that she
was
a woman, strode across the street and stopped in front of the police car. She leaned forward and placed her hands upon the bonnet. And then she smiled at Eddie and Jack, who took to cowering in an undignified manner.

‘Jack,' whispered Eddie, 'start the car.' Jack fumbled in his pockets, searching for his piece of growler.

The woman raised her hands, made them into fists and brought them down with considerable force onto the bonnet of the Mark 7 Fairlane cruiser, making two nasty dents and spoiling the hand-enamelled paintwork.

'Waaah!' went Eddie. 'Hurry, Jack.'

Jack hurried. He pulled out the wire and went about the business. But it wasn't easy, what with the car now shuddering beneath the repeated blows.

'Get a move on!' shouted Eddie. 'She's smashing the bonnet to pieces.'

Jack got a swift move on. The wire clicked in the keyhole, releasing the twin-levered drop-bolt side-action tumblers in the lock, which freed the clockwork mechanism that powered the automobile. Jack put his foot down on the clutch and stuck the gearstick into reverse.

'Don't reverse,' cried Eddie. 'Run her down, Jack.'

'I can't do
that,'
Jack said, appalled. 'I can't run over a woman.'

'She's not a woman. She'll kill us, Jack.'

'I can't do it, Eddie.'

Jack put his foot down hard on the accelerator. Wheels went
spin spin spin
and
shriek
upon the road, but the police car stayed where it was.

'I can't reverse,' shouted Jack.

'That's because there's a big fire engine parked behind us. The only way is forward, Jack. Run her over.'

'I'll try and nudge her out of the way.' Jack stuck the car into first gear and put his foot down once again.

Spin spin spin
and
shriek shriek shriek
went the wheels once more, but in a different direction this time.

'She's holding back the car.' Jack had a fine sweat going now. 'It's impossible.'

'For a woman, yes,' said Eddie. 'But not for whatever she is.'

'She's a robot from the future,' said Jack.

'What?' went Eddie.

'Sorry,' said Jack. 'I don't know why an idea like that should suddenly come into my head.'

'Put your foot down harder, give it more revs.'

'The cogs will fracture.'

'Do it, Jack.'

Jack did it. Well, he would. Anyone would have.

The police car edged forward.

Jack and Eddie cowered.

And members of the crowd were turning now, drawn away from fheir interest in the flaming holocaust by the sounds of the shrieking police car wheels.

Lots of heads were turning. Most of the heads, in fact. Even policemen's heads.

The woman-or-whatever strained against the moving car. The visible area of her face wore a taut and terrible smile.

'What is she?’ Jack pressed his foot down as far as it would go. 'What is she?'

'Robot from the future,' said Eddie. 'Definitely. Run
it
down, Jack. Run the nasty robot down.'

The wheels spun and shrieked and sparks rose and flickered; the police car inched forward. Whatever she was, or was not, she clung to the bonnet.

And then she leapt onto it.

Freed from her restraint, the police car footed and yarded it forward at the hurry-up, but not out into the open road that might have led to freedom. The offside wheel buckled from its axle; the car swerved and plunged across the street towards the gathered crowd and the blazing building.

'We're gonna die!' shouted Jack.

'We're gonna die!' shouted Eddie.

Aaah!
And
Oooh!
And
Eeek!
went members of the gathered crowd, parting in haste before the on-rushing car.

'Ho ho ho,' went the laughing policemen, parting in haste with them.

'Out of the car,' shouted Eddie. 'Jump, Jack.'

'The doors are locked!'

'Unlock them!'

'Hang on to me, Eddie, I'm opening mine!'

'Waaah!'

Shrieking screaming wheels.

A smiling face against the windscreen.

Fleeing crowds.

Burning building.

On-rushing police car.

Doors now open.

Jack and Eddie jumping.

More on-rushing police car. Woman-or-not-woman clinging to the bonnet.

And into the inferno.

Mash and crash. Explode and grench. And spragger and munge and clab and plark and blander.

Jack and Eddie, bruised but alive.

The Clockwork Car Company showrooms coming down.

And then a terrible silence.

'Am I alive?' Eddie asked.

'You're alive,' said Jack. 'We're both alive. We're safe.' And then a voice.

The voice of Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis. 'You are both under arrest,' said this voice.

'The secret of being a successful policeman,' said Chief Inspector Bellis, 'is in doing everything by the book. And before you ask me which book that is, I will tell you. It is the policeman's handbook. It tells you exactly how things are to be done. It covers all the aspects of gathering and cataloguing evidence. It is most precise.'

'Is there a point to this?’ Jack asked.

'There is,' said Chief Inspector Bellis. 'There is.'

He, Jack and Eddie sat in the interview room of the Toy City Police Station. It was hardly a gay venue, as was, say, the Brown Hatter Nite Spot, over on the East Side.

Neither was it a Jolly Jack Tar of a place, like The Peg-legged Pirate's Pool Hall, over on the West Side.

Nor was it even an existential confabulation of spatial ambiguity, such as the currently displayed installation piece at the Toy City Arts Gallery, down on the South Bank Side.

Nor was it anything other than an interview room in any way, shape, form, or indeed, aesthetic medium.

In the way of such rooms, its walls were toned a depressing shade of puce. In shape it was long and low and loathsome. In furnishings, it was basic: chairs, a table and a filing cabinet, lit by a naked light bulb which dangled from the ceiling at the end of a piece of string. There was no aesthetic involved in this lighting. But the string was of medium length.

So it was, as interview rooms go, very much of a muchness.

Eddie quite liked it. It reminded him a bit of Bill Winkie's office.

Jack hated it.

'I've told you everything,' said Jack. 'And it's all the truth.'

Chief Inspector Bellis nodded his perished rubber head. He was accompanied by two laughing policemen. One of these was Officer Chortle. Although he was laughing, he pined for his police car.

'The truth,' said Bellis, staring hard at Jack. 'Now what would
you
know about the truth?'

'I've told it to you,' said Jack. 'All of it that I know.'

Chief Inspector Bellis shook his head, and sadly at that. 'Would it were so,' he said. 'But you see, criminals are notable for never telling the truth. You rarely if ever get the truth from a criminal. A criminal will profess his innocence to the end. Criminals do not tell the truth.'

'I wouldn't know about that,' said Jack, 'because I am not a criminal.'

'Which brings me back to doing things by the book,' said the Chief Inspector. 'Gathering evidence. Writing it all down. I write everything down. I have really neat handwriting. See this piece of paper here?' Bellis displayed the piece of paper. 'It has all manner of things written down upon it, in really neat handwriting. All manner of things about you. About how you entered Humpty Dumpty's apartment without permission from the authorities. And appeared shortly after the death of Boy Blue, disguised as a wealthy aristocrat. And later returned and broke into the premises, and later still escaped from police custody, and today stole Officer Chortle's brand new police car and drove it into a flaming building. How am I doing so far?'

'I demand to see my solicitor,' said Jack.

'Me too,' said Eddie. 'And even though I had a big breakfast, I'm quite hungry again. I demand to see a chef

'Anything else?' asked Chief Inspector Bellis.

'You could set us free,' said Eddie. 'After we've eaten.'

'Office Chortle, smite this bear,' said the Chief Inspector.

Officer Chortle leaned across the desk and bopped Eddie Bear on the head with his truncheon.

'Ouch!' went Eddie, in ready response. 'Don't hit me.'

'No, don't hit him.’ Jack raised calming hands. 'We
have
told you the truth. That woman-or-whatever-she-was was the murderer. We're detectives; we were tracking her down. Did you find the body?'

'We found something,' said Chief Inspector Bellis. 'But we're not entirely certain what we've found.'

'Robot,' said Jack. 'From the future.'

'What was that?' Chief Inspector Bellis raised a perished eyebrow. Officer Chortle raised his truncheon once more.

'Nothing,' said Jack. 'Nothing at all.'

'Nothing at all.' The Chief Inspector sighed. 'Well, I have you two bang to rights, as we policemen say. So why not break new ground by simply confessing? It would save so much unnecessary violence being visited upon your persons. Not to mention all the paperwork.'

'We're innocent,' said Eddie. 'We were just pursuing the course of our investigations.'

'Oh yes,' said Chief Inspector Bellis, consulting his paperwork. 'On behalf of this mystery benefactor who paid the handsome advance to your employer, Bill Winkie, who has mysteriously vanished without trace.'

'He'll be back,' said Eddie. 'He'll tell you.'

'Perhaps,' said the perished policeman. 'But for now I have you and I have all my impeccable paperwork, all penned in precise terms, in a very neat hand, and all pointing towards your guilt. Go on, confess, you know you want to.'

'I certainly don't,' said Eddie.

'That's as good as a confession to me,' said Bellis. 'I'll make a note of that.'

'And make sure you spell all the words right,' said Eddie. 'Especially the word "twerp" and the manner in which it should be applied to yourself

Officer Chortle smote Eddie once more.

'Eddie,' said Jack, 'don't make things worse.'

'How can they be worse?' Eddie rubbed at his battered head. 'This fool won't listen to reason. He won't believe the truth. But at least the killer is dead. That's something. We'll have our day in court. He can't prove anything against us. There's no evidence linking us directly to the crimes.'

'And how do you know that?' asked Bellis.

'Because we didn't commit them,' said Eddie.

'I have circumstantial evidence.'

'That's no evidence at all. It won't hold up in court.'

'I don't know where you keep getting the "court" business from,' said Chief Inspector Bellis. 'There won't be any court involved in this.'

'What?' said Eddie.

'I was going to mention that,' said Jack. 'But I didn't have time. This is some kind of "authority from higher up" jobbie; the Chief Inspector has been given the power to simply make us disappear.'

Eddie made growly groaning sounds.

'Killing the cream of Toy City's society is a very big crime,' said the Chief Inspector. 'It calls for extreme measures. Now, you can confess all and I'll see to it that you go off to prison. Or you can continue to profess your innocence, and...' The Chief Inspector drew a perished rubber finger across his perished rubber throat.

'But we didn't commit these crimes.'

'I saw you drive that woman into the burning building with my own two eyes. That's enough for a murder charge on its own.'

'If it
was
a woman,' said Eddie. 'Which it wasn't. As you know.'

'There's an autopsy going on at this moment.' Chief Inspector Bellis arranged his paperwork neatly upon the desk. 'We'll soon know all about that. And you
did
steal this officer's police car.'

Officer Chortle glared at Eddie.

Eddie took to a sulking cowering silence.

'Look,' said the Chief Inspector. 'I'm a fair fellow. Firm but fair, and I do believe in justice.' He turned to Jack. 'What say we just blame it all on the bear and let you go free?'

'Well,' said Jack.

'What?' said Eddie.

'No,' said Jack. 'Eddie is innocent. I'm innocent. Why not just wait for your autopsy report? See what that has to say.'

Chief Inspector Bellis sighed. 'I think we've said all that can be said here.' He rose from his chair and tucked his impeccable paperwork under his arm. Til leave you in the company of these officers. They can beat the truth out of you. Then you'll both be disappeared.'

'No,' said Eddie. 'No more hitting. We give up, we confess.'

'We do?' said Jack.

'We do,' said Eddie. 'Just leave us alone here and we'll draft out our confessions.'

'Make sure that you do, or...' Chief Inspector Bellis drew his finger once more across his throat, nodded his farewells and, in the company of the two laughing policemen, left the interview room, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

'Well,' said Eddie to Jack. 'That's sorted.'

'Sorted?' Jack threw up his hands. 'We're done for. They'll disappear us. And why did you tell him we'd write out confessions?'

'To stop me getting hit again and buy us some time alone. Now, out with the wire, Jack, and pick the lock.'

'They confiscated the wire,' said Jack.

'We're done for,' said Eddie.

Time passes slowly in a police interview room when you're left all alone in it. Or even with a friend. Especially when you're waiting for something terrible to happen to you. Time should pass quickly in such circumstances. But it doesn't. It passes very slowly indeed.

'It's all so unfair,' said Eddie. 'We're heroes; we shouldn't be treated like this.'

'Eddie,' said Jack, 'what do you think this is really all about?'

'What do you mean?' Eddie fiddled at the door. 'If I had an opposable thumb,' he said, 'I'd always keep a really long nail on it, just for picking locks.'

'What I mean,' said Jack, 'is
what
is all this about? Who was the murderess? Why did she do what she did?'

'Who can fathom the workings of the criminal mind?' said Eddie.

'Detectives,' said Jack. 'That's what they do.'

'Not in this case, Jack. She's dead, we'll never know.'

'And soon we'll be dead. Disappeared. And that will be that for us. It's all been a bit pointless, really, hasn't it?'

'Don't talk like that, Jack. We did our best.'

'We were useless, Eddie. We were rubbish at being detectives. Everything we did was wrong. Bill Winkie would be ashamed of us.'

'Don't say that. All right, we made a few mistakes...'

'A few
mistakes? We made nothing but mistakes.'

'We did our best.'

'And where has it got us? We're lucky to still be alive. And we won't be alive for much longer, I'm thinking. I'm going to write my confession and hope I can escape from prison.'

'Don't be so pessimistic, Jack. There has to be a way out of this mess.'

'Eddie,' said Jack, 'there is. I
could
pick the lock. You've got a new growler, haven't you?'

'Now hold on.' Eddie covered himself as best he could. 'That would really hurt. It really hurt the last time.'

'Yes, but we
could
escape. I'll just rip your stomach open.'

'No.' Eddie dropped from his chair and backed away.

'Only joking,' said Jack.

'Good,' said Eddie, still backing away.

'We'll just wait here until the policemen come back and beat you up some more and then disappear the both of us.'

'Out with my growler,' said Eddie Bear.

'No, there has to be another way.'

'I wish I knew one,' said Eddie.

'You know what,' said Jack, 'you were right. When you said that we were going about things in all the wrong way. About the hunters being hunted, and how we should do things the way Bill Winkie would have done them.'

Eddie nodded in a hopeless kind of way.

'I've read all the books,' said Jack. 'He wouldn't have ended up here.'

'That doesn't help,' said Eddie.

'No, sorry, it doesn't. But if he
had
ended up here, there would have been a twist to it.'

'There's always a twist in detective books,' said Eddie. 'That's what makes them special.'

'So there should be a twist here.'

'This isn't a Bill Winkie thriller.'

'Let's assume it is,' said Jack. 'Or an Eddie Bear thriller. Let's look at it all from a different perspective.'

'Big words,' said Eddie. 'So what's the twist?'

Jack shrugged. 'I wish I knew,' he said.

'Thanks very much,' said Eddie. 'That's all been very helpful.'

'Give it a chance, Eddie.'

'What, we simply sit here and wait for this twist to just happen?'

'That's exactly what we do. That's what would happen in the books. And when it happens here to us, it will change everything and we will go out and do the job properly. The way it should be.done. The way it's done in detective thrillers.'

'I don't get it,' said Eddie.

'You will,' said Jack. 'Just trust me.'

And so they waited.

It was tense, but then, important waiting is always tense. It's filled with tension, every waiting moment of it.

The tense waiting was done at the exact moment when it ceased.

And it ceased at the sound of a key being turned in a lock and the sight of the interview room door swinging open.

Chief Inspector Bellis entered the interview room. •

'Have you completed your written confessions?' he asked.

Eddie flinched.

'Not as such,' said Jack.

'So you've decided to go for the violent beating and disappearance option.'

'No,' cried Eddie. 'Have mercy.'

'Mercy?' The Chief Inspector's eyebrows were raised once again. 'You are asking me for mercy?'

'We are,’ Jack agreed.

'Oh well, fair enough then, you can go.'

'What?' went Jack.

And 'What?' went Eddie too.

'You can both go free,' said Bellis. 'I'm dropping the charge.'

Jack's mouth hung open. Now this
was
a twist.

Eddie said 'What?' once again.

'You heard me, I'm dropping the charge.'

'Charge?' said Eddie. 'You're dropping
the
charge? Only the one? I don't understand.'

'Taking and driving away a police vehicle,' said Chief Inspector Bellis. 'That's the only charge against you and I'm dropping that charge.'

'Ah, excuse me, sir,' said Jack, 'but why?'

'Somethings have come up.'

'What kind of somethings are these?'

'Two somethings,' said the Chief Inspector. 'The body in the morgue. Or what's left of it. Isn't a body.'

'Then what is it?' Jack asked.

'I'm not authorised to tell you that.'

'Oh,' said Jack. 'And the other something?'

'There's been another murder,' said Chief Inspector Bellis. 'And, as you've both been here in custody, I know that you are not responsible. But it's the same killer as before; I'd stake my reputation on it.'