Read The Monster Within Online

Authors: Darrell Pitt

The Monster Within (10 page)

‘Do you think you might get married one day?' she had once asked him as they walked
through Hyde Park in London.

‘Uh, I suppose so,' he said, reddening. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘The Primrose Society have been saying that marriage may be obsolete within a decade.'

‘Really?'

‘The expectation of marriage for life is an outdated concept,' she explained. ‘Because
people are living so much longer.'

‘It is a long time,' Jack had said. ‘I suppose you need to find the right person.'

He had wanted to add:
Someone like you.

Almost as if reading his mind, her eyes met his, and she smiled.

Jack swallowed, but his throat was parched from the heat. His back was aching terribly
now and he had a headache. He needed to put Scarlet down, but he doubted he would
be able to pick her up again.

He focused on the sound of the wind as he counted.

…two hundred and nine…two hundred and ten…

The whispering wind grew louder.

‘Wait a minute,' he croaked. ‘That isn't the wind.'

A trail of dust was cutting across the valley. A steamcar! Jack carefully placed
Scarlet down and ran. The dirt track had almost reached a bigger road where an old
vehicle chugged along with a man and woman inside.

‘Help!' Jack yelled, weakly. ‘Help!'

He placed himself squarely in the middle of the road and the car ground to a halt.
Jack went to the driver's side and pointed back to Scarlet.

‘Mi Dios!'
the woman exclaimed.

Jack mimed what had happened with the snake before they loaded Scarlet into the back
of the truck. Her pulse was weak, but she was still breathing. Jack almost wept.
As the truck bounced over the stony road, he nursed Scarlet's head in his lap, wiping
away the dried vomit on her collar.

‘You're going to be all right,' he promised. ‘Not long now.'

They drove for another twenty minutes before reaching a settlement of half a dozen
buildings. The man hurried to the nearest, knocking on the door. Jack
lifted Scarlet
from the truck.

A newcomer, a thin man wearing a neat ivory-coloured suit, pointed them inside. It
was a small clinic. Jack struggled Scarlet onto a bench before falling back on a
seat. The man asked him questions in Spanish, but Jack could not understand him.

Then Jack produced the snake. The man shied back for a second before realising it
was dead. Then he stared at it, nodding.

The couple who had picked them up took Jack from the room. He settled into another
chair and they gave him water. He thanked them before they left. Then, exhausted
and filthy with sweat and dust, he closed his eyes, determined not to sleep.

I need to stay awake
, he thought.
I need…

Someone prodded his arm. Jack blearily opened his eyes to see the doctor next to
him, his arm pointing to the doorway.

‘Scarlet!' he cried.

She lurched towards him and gave him an enormous hug. They both burst into tears.

‘How do you feel? What do you remember?'

‘I'm fine, but I don't remember very much,' Scarlet admitted. ‘I recall walking down
the hill. The snake biting me. Everything after that is blank.'

Jack explained how he had carried her to the next road and flagged down a car. At
that moment a small girl appeared in the doorway. She could speak English and introduced
herself as Rosa.

‘The snake was poisonous,' she said. ‘She would have died if you had not brought
her to the clinic.'

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. ‘Jack saves the day—again!'

‘You'd do the same for me.'

‘No. I'd just leave you in the desert.' She gently punched his arm. ‘Joking.'

‘You know the most frightening part?' Jack said. ‘You had a strange expression after
the snake bit you—almost
zombie
-like.'

‘Lord help me.'

Scarlet asked Rosa about transportation back to Granada.

‘There is a bus that comes through here each day,' Rosa said. ‘It will be here in
the morning.'

‘Is there no other way?'

‘No, senorita.'

They arranged to spend the night in a small room at the back of the clinic. It contained
two small beds, firm but comfortable. A local woman bought them soup and bread for
dinner. They offered her money, but she declined.

‘These people have been so good to us,' Scarlet said.

‘Most people are kind. It's a shame that the rotters ruin it for the rest of us.'

The next morning Jack and Scarlet caught the bus back to town. Limping with exhaustion,
they tumbled into the lobby of the Hotel Hermoso.

‘Jack! Scarlet!'

They turned to see Mr Doyle hurrying down the stairs. He threw his arms around them.
‘Where have you been?' he asked. ‘Are you all right? Why are you limping—'

Slumping into the plush lobby lounges, Jack and Scarlet gave an account of their
adventures. Mr Doyle took them back to their rooms where they quickly showered and
changed. He sniffed at Jack's green coat.

‘We may need to send that out for cleaning, my boy,' he said.

Jack dusted it off. ‘Not yet,' he said. ‘Not until we return to London.'

At a nearby café, Mr Doyle ordered
fabada asturiana
—a stew of sausages and beans—and
Jack and Scarlet wolfed it down as they gave him more details about what had happened
over the last two days.

Finally, Mr Doyle sat back, forming a steeple with his fingers. ‘This is strangely
reminiscent of a case involving a monkey, a loaded revolver and a washing machine,'
he said. ‘It started when…'

‘Mr Doyle,' Scarlet interrupted.

‘Oh, yes. Well, there seems to be more to all this than meets the eye,' he said,
tossing back a piece of blue cheese. ‘I must tell you that I engaged in my own life
and death struggle with John Fleming.'

‘What?' Jack exploded.

‘He tried to kill me,' Mr Doyle confirmed. ‘It was only through my knowledge of jiu
jitsu that I was able to overcome him. Unfortunately, he escaped.'

‘So he wasn't with MI5?

‘I'm not saying that. Actually, I believe he
was
with MI5, but was a double agent.
I have sent a message to their headquarters in London informing them of his treachery.'
He frowned. ‘I wonder about this business involving Domina.'

‘Have you ever heard of them before?' Scarlet asked.

‘I have. They are exactly as John Fleming described: an organisation that buys and
sells new technologies. They have been implicated in several schemes involving unscrupulous
Darwinists, engineering illegal biological creatures.'

‘What about…X-29?' Jack said.

‘Of that, I have no idea.' Mr Doyle brightened up. ‘Still, at least we have a strong
lead.'

‘Which is?' Scarlet asked.

‘The house you were taken to,' Mr Doyle said. ‘Whoever lives there is involved in
this mystery. We will approach the local authorities and seek their assistance.'

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘Ah, Senor Doyle,' Inspector Ruiz said. ‘I have heard of you.'

The inspector, a goatee-bearded man in the blue uniform of the Spanish police, shook
the trio's hands. They followed him into his office, a compact room with a view over
a city square. Outside, a band of musicians were busking, playing traditional music
as the smells of spicy food wafted through the window.

‘Then I hope you'll help us,' Mr Doyle said.

‘I will help you as I would help any citizen, but—correct me if I am wrong—you are
not officially with Scotland Yard.'

‘I am not, but I assist them on an unofficial basis.'

‘And I'm sure you are very helpful,' Ruiz said, smiling. ‘But we have our own ways
of doing things here. We do not use “consulting detectives”. We look after matters
ourselves.'

‘Then I hope you will help us as you would help any visitor to your country,' Mr
Doyle said. Without going into the details of their investigation, he explained that
Jack and Scarlet had been kidnapped and taken to a house. ‘A crime has been committed
and I hope you will investigate it.'

‘We will, senor,' he said, frowning. ‘We take the kidnapping of children most seriously.
Please give me the details.'

‘We're not sure of the address,' Jack said. ‘But we can take you there.'

Within minutes, Inspector Ruiz and three other officers had piled into a police van
with Jack, Scarlet and Mr Doyle.

‘I think it was through here,' Scarlet said as the steamcar cut through town.

‘No, it was down this street,' Jack said.

‘Actually, I think it may have been…'

Finally they turned into a street with factories lining both sides. Jack pointed
to a house at the end. ‘There!' he said. ‘There it is!'

‘You're right!' Scarlet said. ‘That's definitely the place.'

The van stopped and everyone climbed out. There was no movement in the house: the
curtains were drawn closed.

‘This is it,' Scarlet said. ‘I remember the roses at the front gate.'

‘You should tell your officers to be careful,' Jack said to Inspector Ruiz. ‘These
men had guns.'

Ruiz said something in Spanish to his men. Two remained at the bottom of the steps
while they climbed to the front door. The inspector knocked. No sound came from within.

‘They've probably gone,' Jack said. ‘After they tried to kill us—'

The door swung open, revealing an elderly lady.
‘Si?'
she said.
‘Te puedo ayudar?'

The inspector spoke to her for a moment. She frowned and shrugged, her brows creasing
with confusion.

Ruiz turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘This is Senora Sanchez,' he said. ‘She says she
doesn't know anything about any men with guns.'

‘What?' Jack said. ‘She must be working with them!'

The conversation continued between Ruiz and the old lady. Then an elderly man appeared
behind her. ‘May I help you?' he asked, with only a trace of a Spanish accent. ‘Why
are you here?'

‘You're part of a criminal gang!' Scarlet said.

The old man's lips creased into a smile. ‘What is this?' he asked. ‘Are you making
a joke?'

‘If you're not a criminal then you'll let us search your house!' Jack said.

Ruiz intervened. ‘These people are under no
obligation to allow us inside,' he said.
‘You must have the wrong house.'

‘You may enter,' Senor Sanchez said, standing aside. ‘But you will find nothing.'

Jack stormed ahead. ‘There!' he said. ‘That table was—'

He stopped. The building had been clean and bright before. Now it was old and dilapidated.
The carpet was threadbare, the sideboard in the hallway faded and broken.

‘This is…this…' Scarlet stopped in amazement. ‘It's different.'

Jack pushed a door open. It had been stylishly decorated with a chandelier in the
ceiling, nice walls and paintings, but now it was bare, the walls empty. A solitary
table sat in the centre with two rickety chairs.

‘Are you sure this is the same house?' Mr Doyle murmured to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Possibly
you've mistaken it for a similar property.'

‘This is the house!' Jack said. ‘And I can prove it!' He marched down the hall to
the door under the stairs. The others caught up with him as he swung it open. ‘I'll
show you exactly—'

Jack's mouth fell open. There were no stairs. The stairway had been bricked up.

‘I…I don't know how…' Jack stuttered.

‘Why is this closed off?' Scarlet demanded. ‘We know you're hiding something—'

Inspector Ruiz ignored her, turning to Senor and
Senora Sanchez. ‘I'm so sorry we
have wasted your time,' he said. ‘It seems our visitors are making a little joke.
The British sense of humour is not like our own.'

He hustled them back to the street.

Mr Doyle tried to speak. ‘It's obvious these people are part of a conspiracy,' he
said. ‘They have changed the house to put you off the scent.'

‘Part of a conspiracy?' Ruiz looked at him as if he were quite mad. ‘That harmless
old couple? If they're criminals then I am…how do you say it…the King of England!'

The inspector ordered his men back to the truck. Mr Doyle, Jack and Scarlet tried
to make him see reason, but he cut them off. ‘I trust you will not waste any more
of my time,' he said. ‘I am a busy man.'

‘We need to get back into town,' Scarlet protested.

‘Catch a bus!' Ruiz snapped, and the vehicle roared off.

‘Well,' Mr Doyle said, taking a piece of cheese from his pocket, ‘that could have
gone better.'

‘Those people are criminals!' Jack said. ‘They're working with Domina!'

‘Probably, but there would seem to be little we can do about it at the moment.'

Navigating their way back to a main road, Mr Doyle hailed a horse-driven carriage
and climbed into the back. ‘This reminds me of a case I investigated involving a
pile of hay, a pianist with no arms and a giraffe wearing a tuxedo—'

‘Sir!'

‘Oh yes. Back to the case at hand. I think we'll make use of the most valuable tool
at our disposal.'

‘Which is?' Scarlet asked.

‘Our minds. We'll go back to the hotel and plan our next move.'

The carriage weaved through the city streets. Finally they reached their hotel and
went upstairs. Scarlet screwed up her nose.

‘Jack,' she said. ‘I don't mean to appear rude, but you may need to wash.'

‘I already showered today!'

Inside the room, there was a knock at the door. Mr Doyle answered it and returned
with a note. ‘That was the concierge,' he said. ‘A message has come from Scotland
Yard. There seems to have been a breakthrough in the case. We will return to London
at once.'

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