The Policeman of Secrets

Chapter 13 Part 3

The professor was looking hard for their next target, and discovered it in the furthest corner: a staircase to the roof or attic space. Lily led the way, quietly opening the trapdoor at the top of the ten steps and moving inside. Lady Protheroe needed only a little encouragement before she began to climb, but Claymore and Solomon had the difficult task or maneuvering an increasingly conscious De’Ath up each step.

They found themselves in a forgotten room, a grand space that seemed to stretch the whole length of the building yet was filled only with detritus. Here were open crates that spilled forth unused inmates’ clothing; there was a broken bed and torn mattress. The air was thick with the stink of damp and dereliction.

“Why would Lord Stone be in such a place?” asked Lady Protheroe, pushing aside a case of books and revealing a moth-eaten couch spotted with mildew.

She sat, and stared expectantly at the group that assembled before her.

From somewhere high above them, far over the arched roof that was only a few feet from their heads, came the soft and repetitive thudding of an airship’s rotors. Professor Claymore paused to check his watch, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Milord is on his way,” said Lily, “but first we shall take you from this horrid place so that we might talk. That will be most pleasant, don’t you think?”

“Let’s find a skylight,” urged the professor, signaling for Solomon to bring De’Ath with him. “It sounds as if Mother Cog managed to obtain an airship, if that is her waiting overhead. I trust she has been scouring the roof for sign of us.”

It was no easy task as the soiled and useless bric-a-brac of years served to block their way quite effectively. Lily gave a soft cry of alarm as she almost sent a tin box rattling to the floor. She caught it in time, but there was a tinkling of broken glass inside. Opening the box’s lid, she withdrew a handle of medicine bottles, each carefully labeled by a precise hand.

“Tranquilizers and pain relievers,” she told the others. “Dozens of them. Why should they be here when they could do so much good downstairs?”

“I think De’Ath wants his charges to suffer instead,” said Solomon. “Presumably his predecessor was more caring.” He had sat the administrator on a fallen pile of boxes, and turned at the sound of movement.

“What’s happening?” said De’Ath, his voice slurred. A half-closed eye spotted Claymore and Lily clearing space beneath a wide skylight that was so marred by smoke and grime that it cast little sunshine into the attic.

The thud-thud-thud was becoming louder as the professor began forming crates and other items into a hill that would be high enough to reach the skylight. Lily rummaged for a pole or lever that could open it.

Solomon pulled an unresisting De’Ath to his feet. The man swayed, and struggled to keep his head upright.

“Listen to me,” said Solomon, slapping him into some form of wakefulness. “We are taking Lady Protheroe from this terrible place, and you will be coming with us. If you tell us everything you know about the Black Pages, we will let you go. If you do not, or if you make it hard for us to escape, I will inflict such pain on you that you could become an inmate here yourself.”

De’Ath managed to stare back, all defiance drained from his pale and confused face. He nodded once.

“Ah,” said Claymore, “here we go.” A pole with a hooked end was enough to push open the skylight, allowing a golden square of sunshine into the gloom. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the brightness, and then Lily was leading Lady Protheroe towards the makeshift steps.