They laughed at him.
And then the Branko twins appeared. Standing close together, they stared at the stones in the wall, stared and stared. A huge boulder dropped out and the whole wall shuddered.
Can they do that? thought Charlie. Can they bring down a wall that's lasted nine hundred years?
They could. Two huge stones tumbled from the top of the wall, and then one of the twins began to talk. They so rarely spoke it was quite a shock.
"What a tragic accident," said the black-haired, doll-faced girl. "Charlie Bone climbed an old wall, and down it came, rumble, tumble, with Charlie on top...."
"And then underneath," continued the other twin in a deeper, more sinister tone.
With a jarring thud, another huge stone hit the hard earth, and this time the wall trembled so violently, Charlie fell to his knees. He clung to the mossy surface as it rocked and shook, trying to imagine what it would be like to be buried alive.
When the sound came Charlie thought it was from another part of the wall. But then it grew louder, an angry, swelling buzz.
The children on the ground were looking up. They began to back away. Some of them screamed. Following their gaze, Charlie saw a black cloud falling through the trees. The buzz became a roar and the whole crowd scattered, howling and screaming. Joshua Tilpin was the last to go. "You're going to be stung to death, Charlie Bone," he shouted as he ran off.
Bees? Swarming in winter? Who had sent them? The shadow? Charlie closed his eyes. Which was worse, he wondered, being stung to death or buried by a wall?
The buzzing stopped. Charlie kept his eyes closed, waiting for the tickle of bees' feet on his bare face and
hands. Waiting for the first angry sting. Nothing happened. Charlie opened one eye. Nothing on the wall. Nothing in the air.
"Charlie!"
Charlie opened his other eye. He saw Emma and Olivia looking up at him from the base of the wall. They were both smiling.
"What on earth... ?" said Charlie.
"An illusion!" cried Olivia, leaping in the air. "It was a good one, wasn't it?"
"Certainly was." Charlie gingerly let himself down from the wall.
None of them noticed a woman approaching through the mist. She stopped a few yards away from them and hid behind a tree.
"We saw them following you," said Emma, "so we followed them, but we didn't know what to do. There were so many of them. Joshua's magnetism is definitely having an effect."
"And then I thought of bees." Olivia gave another joyful leap. "I'm so proud of myself."
"You saved me!" Charlie gave her a hug. "Phew. I'm so glad to be..."
There was a sudden rustle in the trees behind them, and they all turned to see a figure making off, rather fast, into the mist. There was no mistaking the neat gray suit and short trim haircut.
"Mrs. Brown," Charlie whispered. "She must have heard you, Liv."
"And now she knows about your endowment. Oh, no!" Emma wrung her hands. "What are we going to do?"
"There's nothing we can do," said Charlie. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."
Apparently, Mrs. Brown was biding her time. Olivia wasn't summoned to the headmaster's study and no one dragged her away for questioning or locked her in a classroom. Wondering when the Bloors would make a move against Olivia was almost worse than knowing what they would do. At bedtime, when Charlie crept up to the girls' dormitory, Olivia came
prancing down the passage in her black-and-gold pajamas, as chirpy as ever.
"I'm OK," she said, waving Charlie away. "Don't get detention on my account."
"Good luck, then, Liv." Charlie backed down the stairs. He intended to keep an ear open for any unusual sounds in the night, but just in case he fell asleep, he passed on the word to Billy, Fidelio, and Gabriel.
"Blessed will let us know if anything happens," Billy whispered before he closed his eyes.
Charlie didn't have much faith in Blessed. He was a bit deaf for a start. But if he was the best they could do for a guard dog, they'd have to trust that it was one of his better days - or nights.
Paton Yewbeam was eating a cold supper. Candles shone from every corner of the kitchen, and there were four more on the table. Paton told himself that he needed the light to read the small print of a particularly engaging book, but truthfully he had lit the extra candles to keep at bay the dark thoughts that
had begun to creep into his mind. Was it his imagination, or were some of the people walking down Filbert Street really strange? Men and women who peered into windows, who ran their hands over gates and railings, who squinted at door numbers, and wrote hurried notes in small black books.
Spies, thought Paton. Bought by the count. Won over, hypnotized, coerced, or whatever. They belong to him. What's to become of us all?
Paton shivered and quickly tossed back a glass of white wine. He shivered again and took a bite of his cold salmon sandwich.
He was not inclined to answer the sudden loud knock on the front door. One of them, he thought. Well, they won't catch me like that.
But the knocking continued, and detecting a rather frantic note in the sound, Paton reluctantly went into the hall.
"Who's there?" he called through the door.
"Oh, Mr. Yewbeam, please, please, I must speak to you."
Recognizing the voice, Paton opened the front door and Mrs. Brown practically fell into the hall.
"I must talk to you, I must," pleaded Mrs. Brown. "I don't know who to turn to. I don't know what to do."
"Please calm yourself, Mrs. Brown," said Paton. "Would you care for a salmon sandwich?"
"No, no, not unless, that is... well, I am rather hungry. My husband won't speak to me."
"Good lord. How uncivil." Paton led the way into the candlelit kitchen. "Forgive the lack of electricity. You're probably aware of my little weakness."
"Oh, I wouldn't call it a weakness, Mr. Yewbeam." Mrs. Brown took the chair that Paton drew out for her.
"Paton," he said. "Do call me Paton."
"Thank you." Mrs. Brown looked startled. "I'm Trish."
"Trish. How nice." Paton poured Mrs. Brown a large glass of white wine. "Do go on."
"Yes, well, I don't know if Charlie told you, I expect he did, but I've been working for Ezekiel Bloor.
Both of us have. Mr. Brown and me." Mrs. Brown paused to get her breath. "He offered us a very great deal of money to find out certain things about the children at Bloor's Academy."
"To spy on them, Mrs. Brown?" There was a note of accusation in Paton's tone.
"Well - yes!" Mrs. Brown quite suddenly burst into tears.
Paton handed her a handkerchief and then went to the counter, where he placed a piece of smoked salmon between two slices of bread, cut it in half, and brought it to the table on a small plate.
"Th-thank you," sobbed Mrs. Brown, wiping her nose on Paton's hanky. "It's all been too much."
"Go on," said Paton.
"What?" Mrs. Brown seemed confused. "Yes, well, I did discover something about one of the children. Olivia Vertigo, as a matter of fact, but I just couldn't bring myself to - to betray her. My husband knows I'm on to something, but I refused to tell him. And now I just don't know what to do."
"Patricia!" (Paton disliked shortened names.) Mrs. Brown looked up in alarm. "Yes?" "How can you possibly be in any doubt?" Paton said gravely. "You must on no account breathe a word of what you have discovered to anyone. Think what your betrayal would do to Benjamin! Charlie would never speak to him again, never visit your house, never dog-sit your dog. At the risk of causing a divorce, I absolutely forbid you to tell your husband. He is obviously not as principled as you."
