He turned and jabbed Adolf and Knocker. ‘And you two will go upstairs, look into the studies and bedrooms. Nice antique stuff they’ll have up there, Ming vases I should think, and if that don’t work out you get into the children’s playroom. Rich family, ain’t it, spends a fortune on their little brats, I shouldn’t wonder. Well, stealing’s a great leveller, I say. Beats income tax. We’ll take some of those rich toys, me dearios, and I’ll give ’em to someone else, make ‘em happy. Now go on, and don’t forget to come back, else you won’t see your friends no more … not alive.’
The Borribles leapt from the cart, each of them taking a sack to carry booty in, and they ran across the grounds of the house to the back garden, out of sight of the road. It was dark everywhere and not a thing moved in the whole world. Knocker soon had a window open and the Adventurers lost no time in getting inside. Leaving the other three to work the ground floor, Knocker and Adolf raced for the stairs and in the light of their torches they rifled the bedrooms, snatching up anything they considered worthwhile.
When their sacks were nearly full, they went into a long wide room that was obviously the nursery; there were models and games everywhere. Without a word Adolf and Knocker began to collect some of the smaller and more expensive items.
After a while Adolf said, ‘I think we’ve got all we can carry.’ His voice was flat and depressed. ‘We’d better get back to Dewdrop now, or he’ll be beating us again for being too slow.’
‘And if we don’t get enough stuff he’ll beat us for that, too,’ said Knocker. He went to the last of the toy cupboards and said, ‘I’ll just have a look in here.’
Adolf was at the other side of the room when Knocker opened the
cupboard. He couldn’t see what Knocker saw but he heard a gasp and a chuckle, and then a whistle of pleasure and happiness with a note of hope in it too. It had been so long since Adolf had heard anything so uplifting that he took notice immediately and scuttled across the room shouting, ‘What is it, what is it?’ and then he saw and he swore his favourite oath.
‘Verdammt,’
he said and then again,
‘verdammt,’
and finally, ‘A million
verdammts.
’
In front of the two Borribles, on the second shelf, level with their eyes, were two of the finest steel catapults they had ever seen. The elastic was black and square and powerful, new and full of resilience. Adolf and Knocker looked at each other, their eyes gleaming and shining with a bright spark such as had not glowed there for many weeks.
‘How on earth can we get them back to the cage?’ asked Adolf. ‘Dewdrop and Erbie search us every night.’
‘They do,’ said Knocker. ‘They do, but they never look under our feet.’
‘You’re right,’ shouted Adolf. ‘You’re right. I saw some Sellotape over there, just the thing, but we must be quick, or he’ll think something fishy is going on.’
Both Borribles, their hearts thumping, hastily fixed a catapult to the sole of a boot. With a minimum of luck, their plan might be successful.
‘Where can we get some stones?’ asked Knocker. ‘And how could we smuggle them in if we had them?’
Adolf struck his forehead with the flat of his hand.
‘I saw some large marbles in that cupboard over there. I tell you, the kids in this house have everything.’
It was true enough. In a large cake tin was a fine collection of coloured marbles, all of them as big as a good-sized stone and all of them heavy.
‘We can’t take more than five,’ said Knocker, counting them out. ‘We’ll have to carry them in our mouths and just hope that Dewdrop doesn’t make us speak when we get back to Engadine.’
They left the house and ran across the starlit lawns to where Dewdrop sat on the cart, his shoulders hunched and his head swivelling at the slightest sound.
‘Where’ve you been?’ he snapped. ‘The others got here hours ago. You’re trying to get me caught, ain’t it? Well, you remember, me dearios,
if I gets caught I’ll make damn sure you lot does, so hop in the cart with them sacks and make sure no one sees you.’ And Dewdrop cracked the whip and old Sam leant into the traces, turned the cart round and set off, his bones aching.
Half an hour later the cart rattled into the backyard of the house in Engadine, the place where the rag-and-bone man kept his scrap metal and where he stabled the horse. That night Sam was shut away as usual and Dewdrop shoved the Borribles into the house, staggering as they were under the sacks of booty.
‘Come along, my beauties, my little stealing wonders,’ he muttered. ‘I want to see how well you have been working for my early retirement. Ho yes, this is my redundancy pay, ain’t it, me dearios? Hurry along, you brats, ‘fore I flattens yer.’
The five Borribles said nothing. Each was holding a precious marble in his mouth and dared not speak. Inside the house they dumped the sacks in the hallway and then filed down the narrow steps to the cellar. Erbie was waiting, snorting like a brainless ape, drooling and smiling and nodding as they went into the room and stood in line.
“Hurry up, Erbie, me ol’ darlin’,’ said Dewdrop as he came into the room. ‘There’s such a lot of stuff tonight we’ll be up till morning just looking at it. Get those little dearios locked up safe and sound and give ‘em a little bit more bread, just so they knows how much I appreciates ‘em.’
Erbie came along the line and under the watchful eye of his father he ran his hot and heavy hands over the frail forms of the Borribles. He felt everywhere, making sure they had stolen nothing from the sacks to keep for themselves. The Borribles stood with their mouths firmly closed, the marbles feeling as big as footballs. When Erbie had finished his searching and fondling, Dewdrop went over to the cage and stood there with a truncheon in his hand. He opened the gate and quickly pushed the Borribles inside. The door clanged, Erbie threw some stale bread through the bars and then both he and his father sped from the room, to spend avaricious hours with their swag.
As soon as Dewdrop and Erbie were upstairs the marbles were brought from their hiding places and aroused a certain amount of interest: but when the catapults appeared, why then there was rejoicing and hope.
‘Oh, my,’ chortled Vulge, as he fingered one of the weapons, ‘I know who’s going to get a clout round the ear with this little beauty. Knock his
bloody brains out, if he had some. Ain’t it, me deario?’ he added in impersonation of his jailer.
‘Man, oh man,’ cried Orococco, jumping up and down and smashing his right fist into his left hand, ‘this is it. I’ll pulverize them, I’ll feed ‘em to the sparrows.’
‘How’d it happen?’ asked Napoleon. ‘How’d you do it?’
‘Knocker found them,’ said Chalotte, her eyes alight, ‘at the house we were turning over, and Adolf found the marbles; there’s only five, but that’ll be enough.’ She blushed and added, ‘Knocker told us all about it in the cart on the way home.’ Then she smiled at Knocker, apologizing in a way for telling his story but showing that she was proud of him.
‘Look,’ said Knocker. ‘Tomorrow it’s you others who go out. When you get back, me and Adolf will have our catapults ready. We’re out of practice but we should be all right, and we’ve got five good heavy marbles. This is how we’ll do it. When you’re lined up and Erbie’s waiting for his old man to come and supervise the searching, that’s when we strike … We shoot to kill.’
‘After what we’ve put up with nothing else will do,’ said Napoleon, and his face had murder in it.
‘We must get Dewdrop,’ Knocker went on. ‘He’s got the keys. You lot will unlock the cage. Then we’ll get into the backyard, take the horse and cart, and anything else we want. Agreed?’ Everyone nodded. For the first time in weeks they were happy and hopeful.
The next day was a long day and there was a longer evening to follow it as Knocker and Adolf waited for the return of Dewdrop. Two catapults and five marbles were all they had to help them reach freedom. Knocker walked up and down the cage, flexing his muscles, watched by his four companions.
‘They won’t be long now,’ said Chalotte, trying to calm him. ‘It will be all right, you’ll see.’
‘Adolf,’ said Knocker at one point, ‘you have had more adventures than me. We have five stones only; you take three, I will take two. You aim at Dewdrop, I will take Erbie. We fire, without words, as soon as Dewdrop steps into the room.’
Adolf said, ‘You do me a great honour, Knocker my friend, for you are a good shot with the catapult.’
‘I saw you fire at the policemen,’ said Knocker. ‘You did it well.’
‘Listen,’ said Bingo, in a whisper. ‘Here they come.’
Sure enough there were footsteps upstairs and Erbie came creeping sideways into the cellar like a white crab. He slithered over to the cage and prodded the captives with his pointed stick, a glimmer of pleasure showing on his vacant face.
‘Better get an aspirin, Sonny,’ murmured Bingo, ‘because you’re going to have an awful headache. You think you’re dopey now, but wait till you’ve had a little bash round the bonce.’
There was a slamming of doors above and some heavy thumps as sacks of loot were dropped onto the floor.
‘You lazy little fools,’ shouted Dewdrop. ‘Nothing, nothing you brought me. How can I make a living like this? Monsters, ungrateful monsters, I’ll be working until I’m a failing old man at this rate, never able to retire.’
He rushed into the cellar, his face an angry red, purple in the tight skin near his mouth. ‘None of you shall eat tonight, none of you,’ he snarled.
Adolf and Knocker had their backs to the door, crouching in the cage, catapults firmly gripped, spare marbles in the ready hand of a colleague. They glanced at each other and on the nod they turned unhurriedly, stretching the catapult rubbers as far as they would go, a murderous extent, and let fly, each at his target.
Knocker’s marble hit Erbie on the left temple hard. He swayed, his smile petrified, stiff as blancmange, but he did not fall; unconscious, some trick of gravity kept him upright.
Adolf did not have the same luck. As he released his missile Dewdrop moved forward, intending to thrash the Borribles, for he was in a foul temper, and the marble only clipped him on the back of the head, serving but to increase his anger and his vigilance.
He looked towards the cage and reached for the truncheon that always stood just inside the cellar door; the moisture at the end of his nose glowed blue, green and mauve.
‘Throwing stones, ain’t it?’ he roared, then he saw the catapults and was terrified.
‘Erbie, we’ll have to lock the doors on these guttersnipes until they comes to their senses.’
But it was too late. Napoleon kicked the truncheon out of Dewdrop’s reach. Adolf reloaded and he didn’t miss a second time. The projectile crashed and splintered into the middle of the rag-and-bone man’s forehead
and he staggered back against the wall, sorely hurt, and his dewdrop, that globe of multicoloured mucus, finally broke its infatuation with the nose and fell to the floor.
‘Oh, Erbie,’ Dewdrop cried piteously. ‘Oh, Erbie, help me, my boy, my son, my joy.’
But Erbie was in no state to help anyone. Chalotte had thrust a second marble into Knocker’s hand as soon as he had fired the first. He reloaded and shot at Dewdrop’s crazed offspring, still rocking on his heels. The heavy glass bullet struck Erbie a fatal blow above the heart and he fell backwards, demolished, like an old factory chimney.
Dewdrop could not believe what he saw. He raised a bewildered hand to his bleeding forehead; the blood trickled down into his eyes and confused him. Napoleon picked up the truncheon and stood ready, but he waited for Adolf to fire his last shot.
The German, veteran of many a battle and survivor from a multitude of tight corners, took his time.
‘Oh, my son, my poor little Erbie, what have they done to you, you little darling what wouldn’t hurt a fly? Oh, what a cruel world it is, my boy. Erbie, speak up and chat to your father.’
Adolf’s marble flew straight as an arrow, and as fatally, to the temple of the Borrible-snatcher, who lurched and pressed both hands to his head. Then, lifeless himself, he fell forward with a mighty crash across the lifeless body of his son.
‘So perish all Borrible-snatchers,’ said Knocker grandly, and the others looked at each other with a wild delight. They were free.
It was the work of only a few minutes to find the keys and open the door of the cage. The expedition haversacks were discovered in the adjacent cellar room; the catapults and bandoliers were there too. Soon the adventurers were re-equipped and in marching order. They found food upstairs in the well stocked kitchen and they ate as they had not eaten for many a week. Then, smiling and almost crying with happiness, they went out into the yard.
Knocker moved towards the cart and threw his haversack into it; Napoleon, keeping close behind him, did the same. The others hesitated.
‘Where,’ asked Sydney, ‘are you going with that cart?’
‘What do you mean?’ said Knocker, his eyes widening, taken aback. ‘Rumbledom, of course.’
‘We think,’ said Chalotte, ‘that escaping from a Borrible-snatcher is an adventure in itself, let alone killing one. We’ve earned our names already, twice over.’