The Case of the Vanished Sea Dragon (12 page)

When she came back in, he said, ‘I'm sorry I never returned your call.'

‘That's OK,' she said. ‘You're here now.'

‘Won't your parents come and check on you?'

‘No. My dad's out and his wife has a friend coming round, so she'll spend all evening drinking wine and smoking cigarettes in the garden.'

‘Let's go, then.'

Across the road, Mrs Baxter was watching Mr Winter from number forty-five, who was having a very intimate conversation with a young blonde woman in a short skirt who certainly wasn't his wife. Taking down a full description of the woman, Mrs Baxter completely failed to notice the dragon slipping out of Holly Bigsby's bedroom window, dropping his tail down, hoisting the girl on to his back and disappearing across the rooftops.

With Holly's arms clung tightly around his neck, Dirk scampered across the row of residential roofs, expertly negotiating every aerial or satellite dish in his way, stepping on chimneys to gain extra height, flying from street to street, over gardens and backyards, before coming to a halt on a rooftop by the high street.

‘There's a bus coming,' said Holly.

‘Quick, blend with me,' ordered Dirk, turning roof-coloured.

Holly focused on what it would feel like to be Dirk's back blended with the roof tiles and vanished from sight just as the bus stopped next to them. She
saw that its top deck was level with the roof where they were hiding.

The bus indicated right and pulled out.

‘That's the problem with buses,' said Dirk. ‘The top decks are ideal places for dragon-spotting.'

‘So how do we avoid being seen?' asked Holly.

‘We do what everyone else does,' he replied. ‘We catch it. Hold tight.'

Dirk leapt off the roof, spread his wings and landed gently on top of the moving bus, gripping tightly with his claws.

Through the upstairs window of his house overlooking the high street, an overweight advertising executive was trying out the new running machine his wife had bought him, when he noticed a dragon with a girl on its back landing on top of a passing bus. He stopped the running machine, rubbed his eyes and looked again to find the bus still there but the dragon and the girl gone. Deciding that exercise clearly didn't agree with him, he went downstairs to the kitchen, where he found a large tub of strawberry-cheesecake-flavoured ice cream and a big spoon.

When the bus stopped outside the Global Sands laboratory, Dirk flew over the silver gates and landed on the flat roof of the lab. He poked his head over the
edge and looked through the window at the office.

‘It's empty,' he said.

Holly checked her watch. ‘It's almost time,' she said.

Dirk got into position and pulled out a black sphere about the size of a golf ball from behind his right wing.

‘Hold this,' he said, handing it to Holly.

‘What is it?' she asked, inspecting it.

‘It's a retroreflective camera-neutraliser. It sends invisible infrared lasers to block the security cameras.'

‘Where did you get it?'

‘I found it,' he replied, flicking out the claws on his right paw, checking the sharpness of each on his teeth, then plunging them into the roof. With the claws on his left paw he began to cut a hole.

‘Mr Buchanan said nothing could cut through this roof,' said Holly.

‘Buchanan has obviously never come across a dragon claw,' said Dirk.

Once he had made the hole, he pulled the piece of roof away. The polystyrene ceiling of Brant Buchanan's office was divided into square metres. Carefully he lifted one away, revealing the room below.

‘What time are we on?' he asked, taking the black sphere off Holly.

‘Thirty seconds,' replied Holly. ‘I'll see if he's there.'

She crawled to the edge and looked over. In the alleyway, a man in a baseball cap was standing in front of the back door to the lab. The man checked his watch and swizzled his baseball cap around, revealing the well-worn face of Ladbroke Blake, the private detective who had once been hired to follow Holly and, ever since, helped her out whenever she most needed him. The baseball cap replaced his usual wide-brimmed hat. In place of his trench coat was a lurid red puffa jacket and in his hands was a large pizza box. He glanced at his watch, chucked a piece of gum into his mouth and pressed the intercom buzzer at precisely 19:45.

‘Aye?' Hamish's voice came through the Intercom.

‘Free pizza,' said Ladbroke, chewing the gum, speaking in a strong cockney accent.

‘Ah didn't order a pizza.'

‘Nah, mate, it's part of a promotional campaign. It's free, ain't it.'

‘Ah can't go opening this door for a free pizza. Ah've got my job to think about here, laddie,' said Hamish.

‘Fair enough, mate. I'll see if anyone else wants this free haggis pizza, then.'

‘Did you say haggis pizza?' said Hamish, suddenly sounding interested.

‘Yeah, it's one of our specials, sounds disgusting if you ask me.'

‘Ah've never had a haggis pizza.'

‘Whatever,' said Ladbroke.

‘Well, Ah am a wee bit peckish. Stay there, Ah'm coming now.'

Ladbroke glanced around him. On the phone Holly hadn't told him where she would be or why she needed him to act as a distraction, and he hadn't asked. Holly always got the feeling that Ladbroke Blake had seen a lot more of the world than most people.

She nodded at Dirk and he dropped the camera-neutraliser into the room, waited for a second of two, then jumped in after it.

Dirk landed in a crouching position and quickly took in the layout of the office. Behind him was the glass desk. In front was the purple sofa. There was a door to his right, and on the ceiling were three cameras. He hoped the camera-neutraliser was working, otherwise the security guard was in for the shock of his life when he looked at the monitors only to find a dragon creeping around the room.

Holly's head appeared at the hole in the roof.

Dirk straightened up and grabbed her, lowering her down into the room.

‘We need to be quick,' he said. ‘Where's the book?'

‘In the desk,' replied Holly, pointing to the glass desk, where the book was clearly visible in the drawer. She rounded it and tried to open it. ‘It's locked,' she said.

Dirk slid the polystyrene ceiling square back over the ceiling and said, ‘Go and keep a lookout while I pick the lock.'

Holly made her way down the stairs. At the bottom she stopped. She could hear footsteps. She looked through a glass pane in the door and saw the lithe grey figure of Weaver striding down the corridor, heading her way. She dived back into the stairwell and he walked straight past. She crept back out into the corridor. Weaver had gone into the room full of animal cages that she'd seen on her last visit.

Holly found the window that looked into the room. The bright overhead lighting flickered on and she saw Weaver carrying a plastic container with air holes along the top. He placed the container on a counter and pulled out what appeared to be a remote control from his pocket. He pressed a button. The container opened automatically and six white mice
filed out, each walking to its designated cage. They were wearing the same metallic collars she had seen on the tabby cat.

Holly was distracted by the door at the end of the corridor opening again. Brant Buchanan entered, carrying a silver case in his right hand. His mobile phone rang and he paused to retrieve it from his pocket with his spare hand, giving Holly enough time to get out of the corridor and back up the stairs without being seen.

Dirk pushed the tip of his smallest claw into the keyhole and jiggled it about. Picking locks was a fiddly business. Eventually he heard the click of the drawer being unlocked, but, before he could grab the book, the door burst open and Holly entered.

‘Hide,' she whispered. ‘Buchanan's coming. There's no time to get out.'

She ran to the side of the couch. Dirk dived into the corner by the desk. They both blended with their surroundings as the door opened.

From his position on the floor, Dirk watched Brant Buchanan cross the room. He placed the silver case on the desk, pulled up a chair and sat down. Through the
glass, Dirk could read three letters on the base of the silver case;A, O and G.

‘Hello, this is Hamish Fraser on security.' The voice came through the intercom.

‘Yes, Hamish,' replied Buchanan.

‘Is everything all right up there, Mr Buchanan, sir? The security cameras are out.'

‘Everything's fine, thank you.'

‘Right, then. Sorry to bother you.'

Buchanan pulled open the desk drawer and lifted out the red book with the white zigzag on the cover. He failed to notice that it should have been locked.

For a few moments they all sat in silence while Buchanan flicked through the book. The door opened and Dirk saw a man dressed in grey enter the room.

‘Ah, Weaver, listen to this,' said Buchanan. ‘“Snow Dragons are one of the biggest challenges to a dragon-spotter”,' he read aloud. ‘“Not only do they live in the furthermost regions of Antarctica but, being both white-bellied and white-backed, they are incredibly well camouflaged. If you are lucky and do get close enough to see one in detail you will notice that the underbelly is covered in a very fine fur. This provides excellent insulation against the cold.”'

‘Very interesting, sir,' said Weaver, sounding not at all interested.

‘A white furry dragon, how sweet,' said Buchanan.

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Did you believe in dragons when you were a child, Weaver?' he asked.

‘I can't remember, sir.'

‘I did. It sounds stupid but I believed that the world was full of dragons. Only they were in hiding, waiting for the right time to attack us. The funny thing was, I wasn't scared. Do you know why?'

‘No, sir,' said Weaver sounding like he didn't care either.

‘Because for some reason I believed they would destroy everyone except for me.'

‘We all think stupid things as children, sir,' said Weaver. ‘Can we deal with the matter in hand now?'

‘It's always work work work with you, Weaver,' sighed Buchanan, smiling.

‘I'm sorry, sir. But don't you think this is more important than fairy stories about made-up creatures.'

‘As usual, you are completely right,' admitted his boss. ‘Show me how this thing works.'

Weaver reached over the desk, his grey shoes stepping dangerously close to Dirk's nose, and pressed
buttons on either side of the silver case. It opened but Dirk couldn't see what it said on the screen.

‘Normally it requires the Prime Minister's DNA authentication to operate,' Weaver said, ‘but fortunately because of the recent government change we have acquired it during a handover period.'

‘Meaning?'

‘Anyone who knows how to use it can operate it.'

‘And do we know how to use it?' Buchanan asked.

‘Luckily, it came with instructions.' Weaver smiled and dropped a pamphlet on the desk.

Dirk read the cover:

AOG PROJECT
NAPOW TECHNOLOGY
THE VE 6.2 OPERATING MANUAL
TOP SECRET

‘How very considerate of our friends in the Ministry of Defence,' said Buchanan.

‘Ah'm sorry to bother you again, sir.' The security guard's voice came again from the intercom. ‘You've got a visitor. Mr Malcolm Bigsby.'

‘Thank you, send him up,' replied the billionaire.

‘Are you sure this is wise? We barely know him,' said
Weaver, pacing anxiously.

‘Relax. He's on the payroll. He's one of us now,' said Buchanan.

The door opened and Holly's dad entered.

‘Ah, Malcolm,' said Buchanan in a welcoming tone. ‘Look what we have here.'

Mr Bigsby looked at the silver case on the desk. ‘But … but,' he stammered. ‘But how did you steal it so quickly?'