The Case of the Wayward Professor Page 8

  ‘You could put the kettle on,’ said Reg. ‘I’m parched.’

  ‘Quick, through the window,’ whispered Dirk, urgently lifting up Holly, pushing the window open with his tail and putting her through it.

  ‘But they’ll see you,’ protested Holly. ‘Even if you blend they’ll walk straight into you in such a small room.’

  Dirk placed her down on the ground and said, ‘Don’t worry about me, just run into the woods as fast as you can, wait five minutes, then come back, but make sure you get out of earshot.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Holly. ‘They’ll see you.’

  ‘Don’t argue, run.’

  She jumped over the stone wall and ran full pelt into the woods as Dirk had told her, but before she got far she felt her feet slow down. She could hear music. Beautiful music. Her feet felt like lead, unable or unwilling to take her any further from the sound. It was beautiful, like an ancient hymn sung in a forgotten language, like nothing she had ever heard and yet like it was coming from inside her, the harmonies and melody being produced by her own breathing. All she wanted was to hear the music, to get lost in it, to be the music.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dirk found Holly standing on one leg, the other angled out in front of her, frozen mid-stride. Her arms were outstretched, her lips curled into a smile, her eyes open with a faraway look as though remembering a happy but distant memory.

  ‘Rats of the wild frontier,’ he cursed.

  He zipped around her, lifted his paw to her face, said, ‘Sorry, Holly,’ and slapped her hard on her cheek.

  Holly toppled to the side, waking from her stupor. ‘What did you do that for?’ she said, regaining her balance.

  ‘Sorry, kiddo. The only way out of the trance is a jolt to the head. I tried to go as easy as I could.’

  ‘What happened to me?’

  ‘You heard Dragonsong.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Holly, the light returning to her eyes, ‘it was beautiful. Like … Like … Like no music I’ve ever heard.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why are you sorry? It was amazing.’ ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’

  They approached the cottage. A yellow car was parked outside. As they went through the front door, Dirk said, ‘Try not to scream.’

  Holly stopped in the doorway. In front of her were the two crooks. Reg was sitting at the table. Arthur was standing by the doorway. A man with a bald head, who she guessed was the professor, was leaning over the cooker with a box of matches in one hand and a match in the other, as though about to light the hob. All three of them wore the same vacant look on their faces, standing perfectly still, like a moment preserved in time.

  ‘Don’t worry, I turned off the gas,’ said Dirk.

  ‘Is that what happened to me?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Yes. You heard the music right up to the point that I slapped you, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I only sang for a few seconds. It gets inside you.’

  ‘It was almost like I was making it,’ said Holly, smiling at the memory. ‘Do they know we’re here?’

  ‘They can see the world around them, but they’re not looking at it, and they’ll only listen when spoken to directly. All they care about is the Dragonsong.’ Dirk turned to the professor and said, ‘Professor Rosenfield, I want you to stand upright and light that match.’

  Instantly Rosenfield did exactly as Dirk told him.

  ‘Wow. Can you make him do anything?’

  ‘Yes. I could make him blow out the match or light the hob and make us all a nice cup of tea …’

  ‘That’s brilliant.’

  ‘Or I could make him drop it and burn down the cottage with him and these two in it.’

  Holly blew out the match. ‘You could make him kill?’

  ‘Lots of good dragons have died this way,’ said Dirk. ‘Dragonsong is a gift in the right hands, but a deadly weapon in the wrong. It’s been against our laws to use it as a weapon for thousands of years. I hate it. I’d never have used it at all but I had no choice, I couldn’t let them see me.’

  ‘What do we do with them now?’ asked Holly.

  ‘We’ll send them home after we’ve extracted information from the professor. Needless to say, these two idiots don’t know anything.’ Dirk turned to the professor and said, ‘Professor Rosenfield, why are you here?’

  Still smiling, with a spaced-out look on his face Rosenfield replied, ‘I’ve reprogrammed the QC3000.’

  ‘That’s what it said on the screen of the silver case,’ said Holly.

  ‘What’s it for?’ asked Dirk. ‘Is it a weapon?’

  ‘It’s a weapon, all right.’ The professor smiled.

  ‘Have you stolen it?’

  ‘Yes, don’t tell anyone, will you?’ He spoke like a little child who had done something naughty and didn’t want to get told off.

  ‘Won’t someone be looking for it, then?’

  ‘No. Hardly anyone knows about it. It’s top secret.’

  ‘What does it do?’ asked Holly.

  The professor didn’t answer.

  ‘He’ll only answer the questions or take orders from the first voice he hears,’ said Dirk, turning to the professor and repeating the question. ‘What does it do, professor?’

  ‘It uses sonar signals to create small but significant movements in the earth’s tectonic plates. It’s completely revolutionary, the only one in the world.’

  Holly gasped. ‘It makes earthquakes.’

  Dirk looked at her. ‘So you have been listening in school?’

  ‘No, I read it somewhere. The earth is made up of tectonic plates. They’re always moving, but earthquakes are caused when they suddenly shift.’

  ‘Manmade earthquakes,’ said Dirk. ‘Professor, what does AOG stand for?’

  ‘Acts of God, weapons designed to create natural disasters like tornadoes, tsunamis and earthquakes so that governments can wipe out entire cities without having to declare war.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Holly.

  ‘That’s humans,’ said Dirk.

  ‘It’s dragons who have stolen it,’ replied Holly.

  ‘Fair point,’ admitted Dirk, then to the professor asked, ‘Who are you working for?’

  ‘I don’t know who they are. I’ve never seen the man with the deep voice. The only people I’ve met are the two silly idiots with the smelly car.’

  Holly looked at Arthur and Reg, who remained oblivious to this insult.

  ‘Where are they planning to attack?’

  ‘I entered the coordinates but I don’t know where they relate to. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be responsible.’

  ‘I see, so if an earthquake happens, you can just convince yourself it was a natural one and you’ll never know for sure if it was you.’

  The professor nodded then added, ‘But they can’t make it work. I told them that.’

  ‘Why can’t they make it work?’

  ‘It can only be activated by one person.’

  ‘Which person?’

  ‘It was developed for the British government. Only the Prime Minister of Great Britain can operate it,’ said the professor, swaying a little. ‘I told them, I can’t get around it. It’s programmed only to respond to his DNA.’

  ‘Callum,’ said Holly.

  ‘Would it work with his son’s DNA?’ asked Dirk.

  ‘No, it requires a direct match and it scans for exact fingerprints. Only the Prime Minister’s hand will activate the machine.’

  ‘What happens when the wrong person tries to operate it?’

  ‘It shuts down and becomes impossible to touch for one hour.’

  Holly could tell from the amount of white smoke coming from Dirk’s nostrils that he was getting angry. ‘And what did you get for your hand in all this, professor?’ he asked. ‘What does it cost to make you betray your country and your species, to break the law and put your job and your family on the line?’

  The professo
r’s distant smile neared. He leaned forward and whispered, ‘Proof.’

  ‘Proof? Proof of what?’

  ‘Dragons. I saw a dragon once, while holidaying in Wales as a child. My parents said I was making up stories, of course, but I know what I saw and ever since then it’s been an obsession of mine. My wife has never understood it and my colleagues laugh at me behind my back, but now they will have to believe me,’ he said. ‘Now I have proof.’

  ‘What proof?’ said Dirk calmly.

  ‘Behind the TV. There’s a parcel.’

  Holly dived to the TV and pulled out the parcel. She placed it on the kitchen table, opened it up and lifted out what looked like a piece of ivory.

  ‘A dragon claw,’ said Dirk.

  ‘A dragon claw,’ repeated the professor.

  ‘If only he knew who he was talking to,’ said Holly.

  Dirk took the claw from Holly and said, ‘Professor Rosenfield, I want you to listen very carefully to me.’

  The professor nodded and leaned forward.

  ‘When I say, these men will take you back to the station. Catch a train home, go back to your wife, whom you love very much, and try to lead a normal boring life. You won’t remember any of this conversation or the events of the last few days and when your wife asks, you’ll say the cryptozoological conference was a complete bore and gradually, over time, your interest in dragons will wane. You’ll find a new hobby. Holly, what’s a good hobby?’

  ‘Skydiving?’ suggested Holly.

  ‘Something safe.’

  ‘Bungee jumping?’

  ‘You’ll become interested in stamp collecting instead, professor.’

  ‘I’ll become interested in stamp collecting,’ repeated the professor.

  Dirk turned to the crooks.

  ‘You two, take the professor back to the train station. When you get there slap him in the face then slap each other. When you wake up you’ll give up your life of crime and dedicate your time to making the world a better place.’

  ‘Will they be safe driving in that state?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Drive carefully,’ added Dirk to Reg. ‘They will now. Remember, they can see the world around them if instructed to look. Reg will drive more attentively than he’s ever done before.’

  Compliantly, all three of them left the cottage and climbed into the car. Holly and Dirk followed them out.

  ‘Will it work?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Dragonsong is very powerful, particularly on human minds, which are weaker than dragons. No offence.’

  He tucked the claw in a fold of skin behind his right wing, motioned for Holly to climb on his back and they took to the sky.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m taking you back to school,’ replied Dirk.

  He tilted his wings to gain a little height. In the distance he could see the school. Holly saw it too.

  ‘Why can’t I stay with you?’ she said.

  He dipped down again, flying close to the tree tops.

  ‘I’m sorry, Holly,’ he said. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t protect you where I’m going.’

  Dirk was telling the truth. He really did want to take Holly with him. On the whole, dragons were solitary creatures. Sometimes small groups would stick together for short periods of time if they had a mutual goal, like the Tree Dragons in the forest or the other Kinghorns he had encountered on his last case, but these unions would rarely last more than a few months. Dragons learned loneliness when they were abandoned as younglings. Dirk remembered the morning he awoke to find his mother gone. Barely ten years old, he had searched everywhere for her until, eventually, he realised she was not coming back. He only ever saw her once after that and by then it was too late. She was dead.

  Maybe Dirk had spent too much time surrounded by humans, with their constant need for company, and perhaps some of that neediness had rubbed off on him because, since meeting Holly, he had come to enjoy having someone to confide in.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dirk landed by the trunk of a large, fallen sycamore tree, near the perimeter fence of the school. Holly could see the main gate. She didn’t want to go back. She wanted to stay with Dirk.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Those Tree Dragons said the Dragnet were arresting Kinghorns. That means they know something. I want to find out what. I’ve got to go and speak to the Captain of Dragnet and tell him what I know.’

  ‘What’s the Dragnet?’

  ‘It’s the Dragon Council’s police force. Dragnet officers are Drab-Nosed Drakes, flightless, soil-eating dragons with a bad case of wing envy, but they’re tough. If they saw you with me, I’d be banished and you’d be killed.’

  ‘I could keep watch over those Tree Dragons while you’re gone,’ suggested Holly.

  ‘Holly, you saw what they did to me. Besides, they don’t even know what they’re involved in. I need to get to the dragon behind all this.’

  ‘You mean Vainclaw Grandin?’ said Holly, remembering the name.

  ‘Exactly.’ Dirk sat with his back against the trunk, eyeing the surrounding trees, looking out for green eyes.

  ‘If the Kinghorns want a war why would they choose a weapon which makes it look like a natural disaster?’ asked Holly.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe they’re looking to weaken the human armies before the main attack. They’re gaining in numbers but I doubt Vainclaw has a big enough army yet to take on the whole of humanity. He needs more supporters and the Council will never sanction war.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back,’ protested Holly. ‘I want to come with you, to help stop the war.’

  Dirk craned his neck and looked her in the eyes. ‘I’ll come and see you as soon as I’m back, but I can’t take you with me. I can’t risk losing you.’

  Holly could tell there was no way she would be able to persuade him. Quietly she said, ‘OK. I’ll go, but you have to promise to come back.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Dirk and he stood up and held out his paw, which Holly took and held to her cheek.

  ‘Wait five minutes before leaving,’ she said. ‘I’ll draw the guard away from the main gate, so you don’t get seen.’

  ‘Take care, kiddo,’ said Dirk, ‘and stay out of trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ smiled Holly. ‘Me? Never.’

  She hugged him one more time and ran into the woods.

  Dirk sat back down and considered the case. It was the second time he had found himself up against the Kinghorns and yet he was still no closer to Vainclaw Grandin. All he knew was what Karnataka had told him, that Vainclaw was a Mountain Dragon, that he was cautious, smart and extremely dangerous and that at the great conference he claimed to be the first in the air, voting to declare war on humanity.

  Deciding that enough time had lapsed, Dirk stood up and stretched. He spread his wings, flapped them a couple of times, and took to the sky.

  Flying south over the forest, towards the caves, Dirk felt almost like Holly was still with him. It was like when you’ve been wearing a hat all day and then take it off but it feels like you’re still wearing it; Dirk could almost feel her arms around his neck, and her body pressed against his back. He looked over his shoulder to make sure, but she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t. She was back at school, probably making some poor teacher’s life a misery. He supposed that this was what it was like to miss someone.

  He glided towards the base of the hill, making sure there was no one around. For human visitors the caves weren’t very exciting, being neither very big nor particularly deep. There were no cave paintings to boast of nor any spectacular stalactites or stalagmites to marvel at.

  Certain there was no one around, Dirk swooped down and landed inside one of the caves. If you had told one of the few human visitors that the shallow caves provided an entrance to a matrix of tunnels deep inside the bowels of the earth, they would probably have thought you were mad or being silly, or just plain lying. Humans considered rock to be a very solid, non
communicative substance.

  Dirk, on the other hand, knew that rock was actually quite malleable and, although not the world’s greatest conversationalist it was, at least, capable of understanding and following simple instructions, providing they were spoken in the ancient language of Dragonspeak and said very slowly.

  Dragonspeak was a beautiful language but it was dated and lacked the richness and subtleties of, say, English or French, which was why dragons tended to use human language when talking to each other. Rock, on the other hand, had resolutely refused to learn a new language in all the billions of years it had been hanging around.

  Dirk crouched down on a slab of stone and made a strange growling, muttering noise, syncopated by clicks and barks, which roughly translated meant, ‘Down, please.’

  The rock shifted with ease, lowering Dirk into the ground like an organic elevator. His head disappeared beneath the surface and the rock re-formed above him, cutting out the daylight and plunging him into darkness.

  After several hours descending through the dark, it grew lighter and Dirk felt the surface he was standing on pull away from under his feet. He braced himself. Orange light appeared beneath his claws and he dropped down into a vast tunnel, landing heavily and feeling a twinge in his back like something kicking against it. He looked over his shoulder. At first he saw nothing and then he noticed the faint outline of a girl, barely detectable, but there if you looked for it, blended to match his red scaly back.

  ‘Holly?’ he said disbelievingly. ‘But how?’

  A pair of brown eyes appeared.

  ‘Hi, Dirk.’ Holly’s mouth materialised.

  ‘I don’t understand …’ he started. ‘You can …You can blend like me …even your clothes. How are you doing that?’

  ‘I don’t know. At first I thought that hiding from the security guard during my escape was lucky but when that Tree Dragon looked straight at me in the forest and didn’t see me I began to realise what was happening. I was doing it without thinking. Like you said, you just have to think like whatever you’re trying to blend with. It’s easy, really, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s easy for Mountain Dragons. It’s not supposed to be easy for humans,’ countered Dirk angrily.