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The Clockwork Conjuror: Chapter 3

The room was darkened from black drapes on the windows and there were a number of laboratory tables covered in mechanical objects and notes in spidery writing. On one was a cup of cold coffee swimming in a small sea of black liquid next to a pile of equally cold, slightly burnt, toast. Occasionally there was a whirr or a tick, like a broken clock. But there were no sounds of living beings.

From outside the door there came a knocking.

“Mr Bosch?” said Sir John through the door. “Phlebotomous? Are you alright?”

More knocking followed, then an exclamation and the sound of a ringing bell. As the bell rang a sign lit up in the room saying VISITORS! The ringing and sign lighting continued for a little longer. Then Sir John spoke again.

“I don’t think he’s here, Detective Symonds,” he said.

“It’s good you called me,” said the Detective. “I’ll need to force an entry.”

“Oh will I get to see one of those skeleton keys?” said Sir John, sounding enthusiastic. There was then a loud thump in the door and it swung open. Detective John Symonds and Sir John Jennings walked into Phlebotomus’ house.

“Ah,” said Sir John. “Not a key.”

“Not as such,” said Detective Symonds, rubbing his shoulder. “My god, this place is in chaos, it must have been ransacked.”

“Actually,” said Sir John, “I’ve been here before, this is fairly normal.”

“Let me check the bedroom in case he’s…” said Detective Symonds heading off.

“Actually, he’s already dead,” said Sir John. He saw the lake of coffee and mountain of toast.

“Hmm,” he said. “What’s this?”

“He’s not here,” said Detective Symonds returning. “But there is an unusual perfume in the bedroom.”

“I think that’s normal too,” said Sir John. “Mr Bosch is fastidious about personal hygiene, but has no sense of what scents match well. It’s not unusual for him to smell like the perfume floor at Harrods. But look, there’s some breakfast machine here that’s been running for days. It suggests that he hasn’t been here for a while.”

Detective Symonds inspected the coffee and pile of toast. He stuck his finger in the coffee cup and licked it quizzically then spat rapidly.

“Poison!” said Sir John.

“No, sugar,” said the Detective. “I suspect three of four spoons of it.”

“Ah, yes,” said Sir John. “He has a sweet tooth.”

“Let’s look for a clue as to where he went,” said Detective Symonds “Does he have an active social life?”

Sir John snorted.

“Not as such… oh, what’s this,” he held up a flyer for a theatrical performance. Detective Symonds came over.

“The Clockwork Conjuror presents his latest show of technological wonders and robotic marvels,” the detective read. “All are invited to this spectacle at the London Palladium on October 18th.”

“Three days ago,” said Sir John. “That’s exactly the sort of thing Phlebotomous would be excited about.”

“Then we need to speak to this Clockwork Conjuror,” said Detective Symonds.

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The Clockwork Conjuror: Chapter 2

Sir John and Marie were sitting in the drawing room of their Southampton Row house. Marie was busy with her crochet and Sir John was simultaneously reading the newspaper and eating biscuits. A series of grumbling sounds and appreciative mutterings were issuing from him depending on the activity.

“It really is too much,” he said, putting down the paper.

“What is?” said Marie.

“That whole business,” he said, waving a hand vaguely at the paper. 

He turned to look at the plate of biscuits, now empty.

“We go through those rather quickly don’t we?” he chuckled. “I’ll ring for some tea, there might be more.”

Marie smiled to herself and then at the maid as she entered the room.

“Here is some tea and I brought you some more biscuits,” said Miss Henderson.

“That was rather quick,” said Sir John. “You must be a mentalist.”

“I can assure you my mental facilities are in full working order,” she said, looking a little put out. “By the way, do you know when Mr Bosch might be calling? Only that ironing device he gave me is playing up a bit. Well, a bit more than usual. A lot more in fact.”

“I…he’s… well isn’t he here?” said Sir John. “It seems like he usually is.”

“I don’t think I have seen him for a few days,” said Marie.

“Well, if you do see him, please kindly send him downstairs,” said Miss Henderson. “On a not unrelated topic, I’m afraid I’ve had to send that skirt with the lace trim to the repairer Mrs Jennings. There is a small mark on the waistband and the lace is completely destroyed. As is much of the skirt”

“Oh dear,” said Marie. “Yes, we’ll definitely send Mr Bosch to you when we see him.”

“And finally, here is the post,” said Miss Henderson, handing a few envelopes on a silver tray.

“Thank you Miss Henderson,” said Sir John and began attacking the post and the biscuits with equal vigour.

“Oh here’s one from Osvold,” said Sir John. “That’s rare, I wonder what he wants.”

Sir John opened the letter and a frown crossed his face as a biscuit was inserted into his mouth.

“Hur-rur-rur fur-rur  hur-rur,” said SIr John through the biscuit.

Marie looked puzzled and so Sir John handed her the letter.

“Oh, he hasn’t heard from Mr Bosch either,” said Marie. “And he usually gets a telegram every day.”

“I shall call Mr Bosch on the telephonic device” said Sir John. “This is one mystery we can solve easily.”

Sir John picked up the telephone and called. There was a pause whilst it rang then it was picked up.

“Ah here he is,” said Sir John. “Hello Phleb… What do you mean you’re not there, I’m talking to you. Stop, slow down man you’re not listening to me. What do you mean ‘leave a message’? Phlebotomous? Phlebotomous?”

The telephone made a high pitched tone. Sir John put it down, looking at it suspiciously.

“Something is seriously amiss,” he said. “I shall go at once.”

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The Clockwork Conjuror: Chapter 1

Dear Mr Clockwork Conjuror

Before I begin this letter I should probably clear up how to address you. Debretts was unable to tell me the correct format for addressing a conjuror and I wasn’t sure if conjuror was an honorific. As it is the second word in your name I guessed not and then realised that I didn’t know whether you were a Mr, a Dr or even a Rev. Having checked Hansard I have established you are not an MP which at least rules out Rt Hon. I wondered if maybe I should even address you as The Clockwork Conjuror, but that seemed strange to use as a greeting. So In the end I settled for Mr. If indeed you are a medical doctor, a holder of a PhD or a minister, I apologise in advance.

So, having established that point, I now will turn to the main part of my letter. I am writing to tell you that I am very much looking forward to your upcoming show at the London Palladium. I have booked 4 tickets, one for me and two either side so nobody puts their elbows on my seat and also the one in front so a lady with a large hat won’t spoil my view. I am rather short and I have had this problem in the past. I once watched an entire performance of Giselle through an oversized ostrich feather. The problem was magnified as I have allergies to large flightless birds. And also many birds that can fly.

Anyway, what I really wanted to say was that I was hoping that after the show we may meet up and talk about your technical achievements. I am an inventor myself and so the chance to not just witness a performance of twenty three automata, but to converse with the genius that created them, is one I don’t want to miss. I mean you of course when I mean the genius as I have assumed you have built them. If not and someone else has built them and they are also at the show, it would be nice to see them. Of course it would be nice to see you too as you could talk about how you operate the automata on stage. Again, unless there is a third person that does that. In which case, meeting all, or some, of you if you are not busy would be wonderful.

Anyway, I will be at your show on October the 18th and hope we can talk about the automata.

Best Regards

Phlebotomous Bosch

PS As I mentioned I am an inventor myself. If you are agreeable I can bring a small portfolio of some of my diverse inventions. Perhaps you may even find something useful for your show! Although I have to tell you now that I would be unable to accompany you on any tours as I have unusual sleeping arrangements and an aversion to overly starched hotel sheets. But nevertheless I could perhaps create a set of instructions to help you fully utilise any device you wished to have in your show. I am also unable to offer guarantees of safety at the request of my lawyer (made shortly before his untimely demise).

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 13

“Well, here we are again,” said Lord Hollingbury cheerily. “Midnight on the promenade with the Omega device.”

He shot a glance at Sir John, who didn’t say anything, then smiled a little.

“Is that them there?” said Marie as they saw a group of men approach. They walked without talking in a small group. They seemed to be carrying a heavy bag.

“I think so,” said Sir John. “They look to be heading toward that new paddling pool.”

Double Sovereign“For Fun?”

The men stopped in front of the pool and dropped the bag gently. Tools were removed and passed around. Mr Wombly started first, leaning down and prying the tiles from the edge of the pool. The tiles were passed back to the group and broken apart, Other members of the group joined Wombly in removing the tiles.

“Good guess on the pool,” said Lord Hollingbury.

“It looked like the most attractive thing after the merry-go-round,” said Sir John. “Now let’s try the Cryptozoetropometer.”

He got the device out and pointed it at the wrecking crew in the pool. He grunted an affirmative sound.

“It’s as we thought, lines of power as we saw before,” he said. “Now I’ll trace them back to their source.”

“Forgive me if I don’t act surprised,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Is it the church, perchance?”

“Exactly,” said Sir John. “Let’s go and see what’s happening there.”

“Tell you what, let’s not.” said Lord Hollingbury.

“But this is what we’ve been looking for?” said Sir John. “We can conclude our investigations.”

“Just out of interest, have you gone up against a group of mysterious cultists before,” said Lord Hollingbury.

“Yes, we did in London,” said Sir John.

“And how did that work out?” asked Lord Hollingbury.

“It went well, by and large,” said Sir John, “although we did have a martial arts expert, a vampire, and a powerful alchemist to hand at the time. Not to mention a large dog.”

“You know Sir John, I never really thought you had the capacity to surprise me but there you go,” said Lord Hollingbury. “The point is, we don’t have those things, just ourselves and our wits. Luckily, at least for me, that’s quite an arsenal, but we need to deploy it correctly.”

“How do you mean,” said Sir John.

“Well, this is my particular area of expertise,” said Lord Hollingbury.

“I thought that was wanton debauchery and drunken decadence?” said Sir John.

“Oh, touché, bravo,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Yes true, but in a professional capacity, this sort of thing is my area of expertise. Assuming these are your common garden cultists, then they’re probably all ensconced in a nice safe circle in the church whilst all sorts of ghoulish what-nots spin around. In order to get to the cultists and avoid the aforementioned what-nots we need a circle of our own and preferably one that moves.”

“What do you have in mind?” said Marie.

“Wait but a moment,” said Lord Hollingbury before opening the door in a nearby shop selling seaside toys. Sir John looked alarmed and Lord Hollingbury returned with 3 large hoops of the type rolled down a street by children.

“That’s robbery!” said Sir John.

“I know,” said Lord Hollingbury, “I only had a double sovereign to leave the shop owners. It’s a disgrace.”

“What do we do?” said Marie.

“Step in these hoops, I’ll mutter some incantations to protect us and we can pick them up and walk to the church, go into the church, and catch the cultists.”

“That’s … a rather good idea,” said Sir John.

“I know,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Look if you wiggle your hips like this you can keep the hoop up without holding it.”

Sir John and Marie tried to wiggle their hips like Lord Hollingbury, but their hoops fell to the ground. Lord Hollingbury sighed.

“I have no idea what you two do for fun,” he said.

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 14

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 12

Marie looked around at the church and its bizarre decoration again. Without the shock of the first viewing and the distraction of Lord Hollingbury she was able to see the artwork more clearly. In particular she noticed the background. For behind the fish, crustaceans and fantastical sea creatures there was a constant pattern of pale yellow disks set in a blue base.

SS Ch 12“Mysterious Ways”

She looked at some of the paintings as well. They were mostly biblical scenes, almost all with a watery theme. But some of the scenes she didn’t recognise. She knew the story of Jesus walking on water, but when did the disciples, or anyone, go bathing? Why was there a painting of an old man walking out of the sea? Why was there a …

Suddenly the entrance opened up and Marie swung round. Reverend Phillips had entered the church. He came in and shut the doors behind him then walked up the aisle.

“Hello,” said Marie. The vicar stopped with a start and looked at her.

“Who’s that?” he said nervously, “Who’s there?”

“It is Marie Jennings,” said Marie. “I was here the other day.”

The vicar looked at her and nodded.

“I remember you now. Came with that man. The strange one. And the idiot.”

“That’s my husband,” said Marie.

“Which one?” said the vicar. “No don’t tell me, it’s not good either way.”

“I wanted to talk to you about the men that have returned,” said Marie.

“The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” said the vicar.

“But,” said Marie, “they must have been dead. That’s very mysterious indeed, is it not? When we spoke the other day, you mentioned the resurrection. And now a man is alive who should be dead.”

“The sea is a fickle mistress,” said the vicar. “She sometimes gives and she sometimes takes.”

“She?” said Marie. “You make her sound like a person.”

“All the time I’ve lived here I’ve never once thought of her as anything different,” said the vicar. “For the sake of your health and sanity, you’d better do the same.”

“What makes her a person?” said Marie. “What does she take exactly?”

The vicar grunted scornfully.

“If you’d tended to those I’ve tended to, you’d know well enough. She gives life and she takes it. She sustains us here with her bounty, but it comes at a price. Every year I have services for them that don’t return. Them I can’t bury as there’s no body to bury. So yes, I see her as a fickle mistress and one that takes in a heartbeat.”

“And when she returns them?” said Marie.

“I have to prepare a sermon,” said the vicar. “I have a service this evening. You’ll have to excuse me.”

With that, the vicar headed to the vestry. Just before he arrived there he stopped and turned to look back at Marie.

“Them with eyes can see,” he said and shut the door behind him.

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 13

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 11

“Why are we here again?” said Lord Hollingbury as he and Sir John looked at the remains of the merry-go-round. It had indeed been destroyed and meticulously at that. The pieces had seemingly been removed, systematically broken and left in a pile.

SS Ch 11“Well Spotted”

“Well it’s another mystery,” said Sir John. “It may be of importance.”

“Well I think the mystery of how an apparently dead man walked into a bar is slightly more pressing than, oh let me hazard a guess, a piece of sabotage by a rival. But do carry on.”

“Well this sort of thing doesn’t happen here, apparently,” said Sir John.

“You mean none of the other merry-go-rounds have been dismantled,” said Lord Hollingbury.

“I think this is the only one,” said Sir John.

“So mathematically speaking we can say this sort of thing happens 100% of the time,” said Lord Hollingbury. “That’s rather more than never. Let’s focus on the dead man, shall we. Where is Mrs Jennings this morning? I daresay she could conjure something to help us.”

“She’s otherwise engaged,” said Sir John.

“That’s rather vague,” said Lord Hollingbury, “so I’m going to infer you don’t want to tell me. And given that she mentioned the reverend last night, I’m going to assume that she went to find him. Further, she probably suggested it would be best if I wasn’t to come along in case either he or I spontaneously combusted.”

Sir John went a shade of red.

“Subterfuge is my metier,” said Lord Hollingbury. “You can’t outplay a grandmaster.”

“Look, there’s Wombly,” said Sir John, pointing further down the promenade to some men on a bench. Sir John and Lord Hollingbury started walking briskly toward the fisherman.

“Who’s that with him,” said Sir John as they approached.

“From the pictures I’ve seen I think they’re other missing fisherman. Maybe Mrs Jennings was right after all.” said Lord Hollingbury.

“She usually is,” said Sir John. The two men arrived at the bench.

“Hello Mr Wombly,” said Lord Hollingbury cheerily, “we wondered if we could ask you a couple of questions about where you’ve been this past week or so.”

“Oh, I couldn’t rightly say,” said Mr Wombly, sheepishly. “I’m just glad to be here.”

“What, glad to be back on dry land or sitting on this bench?” asked Lord Hollingbury.

“Well, you know me,” said Mr Wombly.

“Not terribly well,” said Lord Hollingbury, “only enough to know that everyone thought you died.”

“I feel as fit as I ever did,” said Mr Wombly.

“Look,” whispered Sir John, “all these men have paint on their hands. Paint the colour of the merry-go-round.”

“Well spotted, Sir John,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Wombly, what’s that paint doing on your hands.”

“Oh, I couldn’t rightly say,” said Mr Wombly, sheepishly. “I’m just glad to be here.”

“And the other chaps?” said Sir John. “Would they know?”

“Well, you know me,” said Mr Wombly.

Sir John and Lord Hollingbury looked in confusion and mild horror at the man. After a pause he spoke again.

“I feel as fit as I ever did,” he said.

“You know,” said Lord Hollingbury to Sir John, keeping his eyes fixed on the fishermen on the bench, “I rather fancy a drink.”

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 12

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 10

“Two teas,” said Mrs Pimplenick, dropping the teacups in front of the Jennings at the breakfast table. Some tea sloshed around in the saucer.

“Oh, we thought we might have orange juice this morning,” said Sir John.

Mrs Pimplenick went red.

“But I’ve made tea!” she said and left the table. Sir John went to the sugar pot and saw it was empty. He turned round to say something and saw Mrs Pimplenick staring at him.

“Thursday,” she said by way of explanation.

Sir John took a sip of his tea and pulled a face. Mrs Pimplenick was still staring at him.

“Very nice,” he said and the landlady left, a sour look on her face. Marie took the opportunity to pour her tea into a nearby plant pot. She stroked the plant’s leaves and apologised to it.

SS Ch 10.jpg“Very nice!”

“I was thinking overnight about this strange re-appearance,” said Sir John. “I think we need to speak to Wombly, try and find out what he remembers.”

“I was thinking to speak with the priest,” said Marie.

“That’s a good idea too, we can find him as well,” said Sir John.

“Maybe it would be better if I went alone,” said Marie, “Lord ‘Ollingbury may … set the priest off a little. I think he likes to irritate ‘im. Amongst everyone else.”

“Yes, fair point,” said Sir John, “well I can keep Lord Hollingbury occupied with the search for Wombly.”

The delivery man from a few days before entered the front room, preceded by an aroma of fish.

“Got the latest delivery, Mrs P,” he called out. He turned round and saw the Jennings and smiled sheepishly.

“Morning to you,” he said.

“I have remarked more than once on the correct entrance to use,” announced Mrs Pimplenick grandly, arriving from the kitchen.

“Sorry Mrs P,” said the man, “but it’s a devil to shift them that far. Oh sorry – do mind my French.”

“Pas de problem,” said Marie and the man looked surprised.

“Yes, well, next time perchance you’ll remember,” said Mrs Pimplenick.

“Have you heard the latest news,” said the man. “About the promenade?”

“I’m sure Sir Jenkins doesn’t want to hear some local tittle tattle,” said Mrs Pimplenick and started to lead the man into the kitchen. The man unconsciously took off his hat and stared at the Jennings with awe.

“Actually, we wouldn’t mind at all,” said Sir John.

“Well, it’s been destroyed hasn’t it,” said the man, whilst Mrs Pimplenick looked on in annoyance.

“The promenade?” said Sir John.

“No, the latest attraction, the merry-go-round for the little ones. The paint wasn’t even dry on it and it was taken apart over night and broken up. Who’d do such a thing, eh?”

“It must be outsiders,” said Mrs Pimplenick, “like when those scoundrels from London with sticks had a fight with those gentleman who laughed at them.”

“Oh yes,” said the deliveryman, “the rods and the mockers.”

He was dragged into the kitchen and some strong sounding language came from behind the door.

“Well then,” said Sir John, “it seems like we have three things to investigate.”

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 11

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 9

“I still can’t quite believe it,” said Lord Hollingbury, looking pale and clutching a glass as he sat with the Jennings in the Cock and Bull.

“It must ‘ave been very shocking,” said Marie sympathetically. Lord Hollingbury glanced up at her with sad eyes.

“It was,” he said. “I fear my hands may never fully recover.”

“Are you…” started Sir John, “are you talking about the rowing?”

“Shush, “said Lord Hollingbury, “people will hear.”

“A man has died!” said Sir John.

“People die all the time,” said Lord Hollingbury petulantly. “It’s about the only thing they’re consistently good at. I never row.”

Sir John threw his hands up in despair then glanced down at the glass of brown liquid in Lord Hollingbury’s hands.

“Isn’t a bit early for that?” he said. “It’s barely 9am.”

Lord Hollingbury looked down at the glass in confusion and then back up.

“Oh, I haven’t been to bed yet,” he said. “After we parted I came back here to recover my nerves and see if the fishermen might tell me more. There was a lock-in, so I was here some time trying to find out something. Nobody spoke about the creatures though, no matter how much I plied them with drink.”

“So you’ve been here all this time?” said Sir John.

“Oh no. I went home with the barmaid,” said Lord Hollingbury, taking a sip of whisky. “And her friend.”

SS Ch 9“Barely 9am!”

Sir John muttered something under his breath. Just then there was a commotion in the main bar as a group of people burst in.  From the looks of them they were local fishermen. There were excited voices and laughter.

“Look who it is!” said one of the group. “It’s Wombly! He’s back!”

Everyone in the pub looked around, and the disappeared fisherman walked up to the bar surrounded by the group. They were patting his back and shaking his hand, large smiles all around.

“Well, well, well. Mr Wombly,” said the Landlord, warmly. “Where on earth have you been?”

“Oh, I couldn’t rightly say,” said Mr Wombly, sheepishly. “I’m just glad to be here.”

“Well, we’d better get you a drink then, a pint of the usual then,” said the Landlord, “A pint of water.”

There was much jovial laughter at this.

“Well you know me,” said Mr Wombly.

“How are you man?” said another person at the bar. “Are you well?”

“I feel as fit as I ever did,” said Wombly and a cheer went up.

The trio at table turned round to look around at each other.

“Well there you go,” said Lord Hollingbury. “There really was no need to chastise me about the missing man. If he’s anything like this one he’ll be turning up at the bar in a few days.”

Sir John looked perturbed at the scene.

“Whatever can this mean?” he said.

“It is like the priest said, n’est ce pas?” said Marie. “It is the resurrection.”

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 10

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 8

“It would probably help if you rowed a bit as well,” said Sir John, pulling on the oars in the little boat.

“I’m not the sort of chap to row,” said Lord Hollingbury. “I might get callouses on my hands, and then what would people think?”

“Then why do you own a boat if you don’t row?” said Sir John.

“I don’t own a boat,” said Lord Hollingbury, sounding perplexed.

“But you said we could use this boat,” said Sir John.

“I said we could use it,” said Lord Hollingbury. “I didn’t say I owned it.”

Sir John stopped rowing and the boat came to a halt.

“We’re stealing it?” he said.

“Are we?” said Lord Hollingbury. “Gosh, you’re rather racier than you seem. I had intended to give it back.”

Sir John continued rowing in silence. After a pause he spoke.

“You’re incorrigible,” he said.

“You say the nicest things,” said Lord Hollingbury. “But look, we’re nearly there, I think. The energy was arcing to this spot, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe so,” said Sir John. “Let me get the lantern.”

Sir John shined the lantern over the side.

“What are those things?” he said, half to himself.

“Some sort of jellyfish maybe?” said Lord Hollingbury, staring down at the mass of yellow which surrounded the boat. “No, they don’t have tendrils. They’re more like … thin disks of translucent yellow. Looks like a sort of rubbery material.”

“Probably best not to touch them,” said Sir John earnestly. Lord Hollingbury shot him a look.

“So is this what the bizarre congregation were doing?” he said. “Communing with aquatic prophylactics?”

“Does it seem like there are more around the boat now?” said Sir John. “That they are clustering somehow?”

SS Ch 8“Man Overboard!”

“Ahoy!” shouted a voice from a little way off. The two men looked up to see a fishing boat moving towards shore at speed with another one close behind. At the front of the first was the man that had called out.

“Row, you fools, row!” he shouted at them, “Row for your lives! Get out of the sea!”

Sir John immediately starting rowing back to shore. There was a cry and a splash from the second boat heading to shore. A man floundered in the water.

“Man overboard!” shouted Sir John, pointing to the boat.

“Leave him!” shouted the fisherman on the first boat, “Save yourselves, it’s too late for him.”

Lord Hollingbury focussed the lantern toward where the man had fallen in. He was thrashing about in the water and dozens of the yellow jellyfish were crawling over him. He screamed one last time as one slithered over his face, and he was silent.

Lord Hollingbury grabbed the second pair of oars and locked eyes with Sir John.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone I did this,” he hissed as he started to row.

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 9

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 7

“What it the name of all that’s holy is that!” said Lord Hollingbury, staring into the bag that Sir John held up.

“I wouldn’t have thought you knew the names of anything holy,” said Sir John with a wry smile.

“Oh touché again,” said Lord Hollingbury. “You know you’re in terrible danger of developing some wit. But, seriously what is it, why are we here, and most pressingly, is it liable to explode?”

“Probably not,” said Sir John, “although the constructor has a bit of a track record. It’s called a Cryptozoetropometer, and it’s a device of my own inventing.”

“Well I hope the device is better than the name,” said Lord Hollingbury. “I think I shall call it the Omega Device. There, a decent name for you. No charge. What does it do?”

“The Cryptozoetropometer…” started Sir John.

“The Omega Device,” interrupted Lord Hollingbury.

“The Cryptozoetropometer…” started Sir John, again.

“The Omega Device,” interrupted Lord Hollingbury again. “I can do this all night.”

“Messieurs!” hissed Marie. “We are standing here on the promenade, in the freezing cold! Can we maybe use the device now and debate the name later? Peut être somewhere warm?”

The two men looked at Marie.

“Yes, fair point, Mrs Jennings,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Stop getting hung up on the name Sir John and explain what it does.”

Sir John opened his mouth then shut it again.

“It can detect spectral energy for a wide variety of creatures, real or imaginary. I was mindful of what Marie said, of there being some presence but nothing she could recognise. I reasoned that if different creatures have different etheric patterns, if we were encountering something new, we may need to look for new energies. And hence I commissioned…”

“The Omega Device,” said Lord Hollingbury. “I see, I’m impressed. That explains the device. Now perhaps you could explain why you are intent on giving myself and your good wife pneumonia.”

“Well man,” said Sir John, “we could hardly come during the day. For one thing, there could be all sorts of background energies from any passerby and for another it would be too conspicuous, it would create a scene. It had to be midnight.”

“As an expert on the topic, I think I can reassure you that two gentleman and a lady wandering round at midnight are more likely to create a scene, but I take your point,” said Lord Hollingbury.

“So we are here, close to the church so we can detect any latent cryptozoological etheric energy across a wide range,” finished Sir John, with a flourish.

“Brilliant,” said Lord Hollingbury. “One flaw – the church is occupied.”

They all turned to look at the church a short distance away. There was no sound, but a low light which flickered.

“I’ve been around enough “seekers of the light” to know what a circle of candles looks like at 50 feet,” said Lord Hollingbury. “Someone is in there, having some sort of ritual, and I suspect it’s not a reading of the Book of Common Prayer.”

“Blast,” said Sir John.

“Maybe we can try anyway,” said Marie, “It is preferable to standing here slowly freezing.”

“Alright,” said Sir John, looking into the device’s eye piece. “I’m turning the dial now, going through the spectral spectrum…”

“Oh that’s quite good,” said Lord Hollingbury, “it would make a good name for a musical ensemble.”

“Nothing … nothing…” muttered Sir John. “Good Lord!”

“What is it?” said Marie as she and Lord Hollingbury crowded in to look. Sir John passed the device to Marie, who looked.

“Mon Dieu,” she said and passed the device to Lord Hollingbury. His eyes widened as he looked in.

“Tell me what you see,” said Sir John, “so we’re sure we’re seeing the same thing.”

“There are … lines of … light or power,” said Lord Hollingbury. “And they are arcing like a rainbow,”

He looked up and at the Jennings.

“Arching deep into the sea.”

Sepia Church“Good Lord!”

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 8