The Lunatic's Curse (32 page)

The breakout changed everything, of course. When he realized that the asylum was empty, Gerulphus emerged and found only two people left: Freakley and Mrs Runcible. They didn’t want to
leave either. It was their home and for now they had the chance to do what they’d always wanted to do.

But he had never forgotten Claude’s betrayal.

And then, incredibly, Claude himself in the guise of Dr Velhildegildus came to the island and Gerulphus saw at last his chance for revenge. But he bided his time. What was a few more days after
ten years! Dr Velhildegildus didn’t recognize him he was so thin, but Gerulphus knew exactly who this ‘doctor’ was; how could you forget that square jaw?

He’d watched them down in the underground chamber, building that thing. He’d heard Tibor and Acantha plotting, and heard the screams of Cecil Notwithstanding as they tortured him.
They had left his body in the maze near the torture chamber. Gerulphus felt sorry for him but ultimately saw no reason not to feed him to the fish. Gerulphus picked up the book and turned it over
in his hands. The fact that Rex and Hildred had found it was only a minor setback. Yes, the lunatics had burned the books to keep themselves warm, and he had encouraged it, but it would appear
that Ambrose had found the most incriminating. Obviously he had read it and then hidden it for Rex.

That’s what comes of doing people favours, thought Gerulphus. He’d invited them both, Hooper and Ambrose, to stay in the maze for a few days but they were determined to leave. Now he
knew why. To think, he’d even given them a couple of diamonds each to help them on their way! ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ he murmured philosophically.

He thought of Rex and Hildred in the torture chamber. Should he go down and release them? No. There would be someone over soon enough from Opum Oppidulum, and besides he wanted as much time as
possible to get away.

As for Tibor, what did that man take him for? Did he think that he, Gerulphus Godsacre, was just another feeble-minded fool? He was badly mistaken. Gerulphus was not like those knuckleheads who
had tried to swim across the lake. ‘But he needed me tonight, when those children found the book,’ he said softly. ‘Oh yes, I was useful to him then. But did he really think he
could pay me off with his diamonds? Did he think that would make up for his betrayal?’

Gerulphus wondered how far the self-styled doctor had managed to get before the monstrous fish caught up with him; for naturally as soon as
Indagator
had submerged he had summoned it with
his stick.

Satisfied that everything had worked out as he wished, Gerulphus gathered up his jewels and put them in a dark leather drawstring bag. He looked one last time at the book and then threw it on
the fire and watched it burn.

46

‘If I could just reach these manacles I could use my picklock,’ groaned Rex. He looked over at Hildred. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose
you heard any of that.’

He was still reeling from the revelation that she was deaf. He thought back to all the times she seemed in a world of her own, the times she had ignored him, the way she stared at him so
intensely, and now it was all crystal clear. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t guessed. She
was
in her own world: a world of silence. And that was why she stared;
she was
lip-reading.
That’s how she knew what was in the letter from Acantha. She didn’t read it through the paper, she was lip-reading Tibor. And that was how she knew
Acantha was coming down to the
Indagator
. Shecould feel her heavy tread. And, of course, she was completely immune to Tibor’s mesmerizing voice.

‘It happened over many years,’ she explained. ‘I can hear some things, high-pitched noises.’

‘Like Walter’s whistling?’

‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘And the creature’s singing. They are very similar.’

‘The creature’s singing?’

‘That monstrous fish, it sings as it approaches. I could feel it when we were on the lake. I think it echoes Walter’s whistling. And I feel things too, with my hands.’

‘So that’s why you always felt the walls. That’s how you “heard” the moaning.’

‘Yes,’ said Hildred, squirming around on the table in a very odd manner. ‘But now stop talking and let me concentrate.’

Before Rex realized what was happening she threw off her manacles and sat up.

‘That’s better,’ she said, and shook herself quite violently. With a series of clicks and pops she seemed to reassemble her joints. She looked over at Rex with a big smile.
‘I’m a contortionist, remember?’

Rex laughed softly. ‘You are full of surprises,’ he said. ‘Now, take my picklock, it’s in my pocket, and open these cuffs.’

When they were both free again Rex went to the door. ‘It’s no use,’ he said. ‘It’s padlocked from the outside.’

Hildred was unworried. ‘We’ll have to go down into the maze. If we can get to the underground chamber then we can come back through Tibor’s study.’

‘But how can we do that?’

‘Easy,’ said Hildred. ‘When I followed Gerulphus, I left a trail of bones!’

‘You really do think of everything,’ he laughed. Then Hildred frowned. ‘Where’s the book?’

Rex shook his head. ‘Gerulphus has it.’

47

G
RAMMTICUS
D
OUBLE
T
RAGEDY

by
Alf Hack

The ill-fated Grammaticus family have been struck yet again by misfortune. It was reported last night that Mrs Acantha Grammaticus (widow of Ambrose Grammaticus) and Mr Alvar
Stradigund, the family solicitor, were both found dead at the dinner tab Grammaticus's house. The local physician has said that it looks like a straightforward case of food poisoning. Diseased meat was found in the kitchen. Constables are searching for the butcher but so far he
has not been traced.

High water levels continue to present problems for Opum Oppidulum, with reports of flooding near the lake shore. The latest Madman's Tide has exceeded all previous records and there are fears
that the lower parts of the asylum on Droprock Island, where Mrs Grammaticus's stepson, Rex, was residing under the care of Dr Tibor Velhildegildus, has been flooded. It is unclear whether there are any casualties. As soon as the water subsides a boat will be sent over. At present it is not possible to land.

The search continues for Cecil Notwithstanding, a dedicated journalist on this very newspaper.

‘I think we chose a good time to leave town,’ said Gerulphus, tossing the
Hebdomadal
behind his seat. He turned to the driver. ‘I see from your cart
that you are in the business of pest control.’

48

My dear Robert,

I believe this will be my last letter to you. Shame will no longer allow me to keep up our friendship, but let me say now that it has meant a great deal to me these last few weeks.

I have experienced horrors that are a great burden to me and until such a time as I can forgive myself I cannot live as others in the world of men. I want you to remember me as I was; I pray God that you will never know me as I now am.

I am in good health, I suppose, and I have a purpose, which is a comfort for I believe it is the only thing that keeps me going. I seek a man called Arthur Buttonquail, for I have news of his daughter, but much more than that I cannot say.

I have found that words are not enough any more. Goodbye, Robert.

Rex

49

‘I have been told, Mr Zabbidou, that you pay for secrets,’ said the young man.

Mr Zabbidou nodded and handed the youth a glass of golden liquid. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘And I can tell that yours is a great burden. Take a seat. Have a drink. My assistant here,
Ludlow, will write it all down . . . ’

My name is Rex Grammaticus and it is with great relief that I confess on this page to a secret of the greatest magnitude. It is true that many a child finds just cause for
his misbehaviour in his parents’ treatment of him in his formative years, but although I might blame my father for what has taken over my body I cannot say that it was his fault.

I have lived for years denying what I am, resisting daily the terrible urges that rack my body without warning; but I am not strong and I have given in too many times to mention, when it has
become too hard to bear. My father was right – it is a curse.

I beg you neither to pass judgement on me nor to condemn me, just to listen while I unburden myself.

Six years ago, still a boy, I was placed in a predicament that was brought about by circumstances wholly beyond my control. After a series of unfortunate occurrences my companion Hildred and I
found ourselves in a rocky tortuous maze beneath the old asylum on Droprock Island in the centre of Lake Beluarum. Although we were initially confident of our way to the safety of an underground
chamber, by means of strategically placed finger bones, we hadn’t bargained on the rising waters of the lake.

We made good progress at first but we had only one lantern and the oil was burning rapidly. When we reached the next interchange of tunnels we were distressed to find that the rising water
had washed away the markers. The tragedy that unfolded is as fresh in my mind today as it was then . . .