Boathook Man lifts his hook hand high and sweeps it towards me. I drop to the floorboards, and his arm slices through the air where I was just standing, showering me with water.

  “You cannot stop us!” he roars like a gathering storm. “I will be free!”

  By now, Vi is out of the window and clinging to the snowy frame. “Quick, Herbie!”

  I jump to my feet, pushing my cap out of my eyes, but Boathook Man is between me and the window now, bringing his hook hand up again. I grab something from the nearest crate – an old silver tea tray – and hold it like a shield just as the hook comes crashing down. I see the underside of the tray bulge and split as the hook punctures it. The tray is wrenched from my hand.

  The man bellows with fury. I’m running now, straight for the window, but I don’t think I’ll make it.

  Then something white flashes past me and flies up at Boathook Man. It spits and hisses and wraps itself around the man’s face. I look back and realize what it is.

  “Erwin!”

  The cat is attacking the old mariner’s head ferociously, raking at him with his claws. But instead of blood, only water spouts from the wounds.

  “Come on!” shouts Vi, and I don’t need telling again. I grab her hand and she pulls me out onto the roof. Or, rather, the narrow stretch of roof below the windowsill. The snowy ground four storeys below wavers before my eyes.

  The Boathook Man finally gets his hand on Erwin, and the poor cat is flung to one side.

  I wish I could do something to help Erwin, but it’s all I can do to edge away from the window before Boathook Man lunges at it, his face a blank roar, his beard streaming with salt water from his torn face. He thrusts his hook hand forward again but the tray is still stuck to it and it catches on the window.

  “Don’t look down!” says Vi, pulling me further along, her feet braced against the lead guttering. It bulges with our combined weight. The roof is steep, and the tiles offer no grip whatsoever.

  “Where should I look, then?” I gasp, as the guttering makes another groan. “Back?”

  I give “back” a try and instantly regret it – Boathook Man is already climbing out of the window, the tray shaken free of his hook.

  “The next-door roof looks flatter,” says Vi. “And it’s only a small jump.”

  “Jump?” I say.

  But what choice do we have?

  Boathook Man is standing on the guttering now, which shrieks and twists as the metal gives under his watery bulk. And I’m not far enough away. He raises his hook hand to strike at me yet again, so I duck…

  Then something happens that changes everything.

  An object flashes over my head.

  It’s one of Sebastian Eels’ steel harpoons.

  If I hadn’t been ducking at that moment, the harpoon wouldn’t have been flashing over anything, because it would have been going straight through me!

  Instead, it strikes the roof tiles above with a crack, sending up an explosion of snow, before ricocheting back …

  … and clonking Boathook Man in the face.

  The ancient sailor, as surprised as I am by all this, clutches at his face with both hand and hook, letting go of the window frame.

  And he falls.

  I can’t turn away, can’t not look as the man plunges down, down, down, and shatters into a great cloud of swirling vapour and ice particles on the snowy cobbles below.

  As the mist whirls away to nothing, I see someone standing there, just beyond the empty man-shaped crater of snow: Sebastian Eels, looking up at us, fury on his face.

  And still holding his harpoon gun.

  “Now!” shouts Vi, and she runs at the gap to the next house. Without pausing, she jumps. She lands, and her feet slide. Leaning forward into the tiles, she braces against the guttering and stops. “Herbie, come on!”

  I look down again.

  Sebastian Eels raises his harpoon gun and takes aim.

  I don’t even have time to straighten my cap. I run at the gap and jump.

  It’s as I’m sailing through the frosty air, high above the town of Eerie-on-Sea, that I see the harpoon hit Violet.

  SILVER-TIPPED

  I DON’T SHOUT. I don’t even say the bad word. I’m too shocked. Somehow, I land on the roof and brace myself on autopilot. The only thing I can see, the only thing I can focus on, is Violet falling back against the roof tiles, the harpoon sticking out of her chest.

  “No, no, no…” I start yammering. “Violet, no!”

  I grab the harpoon and pull it out. There’s no blood, but I put my hand on her chest and push down hard before any can start gushing.

  “What are you doing?” Violet looks at me, dazed.

  I let go, expecting my hands to come away crimson and dripping, but there is still no blood. “Violet, stay calm, I can get you to Dr Thalassi, he can do something, they can do amazing things these days, doctors, and…”

  Violet reaches into her coat. She pulls out the blue-green volume she was dispensed by the mermonkey. Its cover is pierced with a neat triangular hole, right through the second “a” in Malamander. She turns it over, and we see a small bulge where the harpoon nearly, but not quite, punctured through the other side.

  “If this book had been a page shorter,” says Vi, staring, “I wouldn’t have lived to finish it.”

  I’m still holding the harpoon. I see it trembling in my hand. I look down to where Eels was standing, but the man is no longer outside his house.

  “He’s probably coming up the stairs for a closer shot,” says Vi, pulling herself up. “Come on!”

  “Come on where?” I say.

  But before Violet can reply, there’s a miaow! from the apex of the roof.

  “Erwin!”

  And sure enough, the cat is already sitting there, looking only slightly tousled after his encounter with the Boathook Man.

  We manage to climb up to join Erwin, then all three of us slide down the other side. Without warning, Erwin hops over the edge. Looking over, we are relieved to see the cat standing on a metal balcony just below. And connected to this is an old fire escape.

  We reach the bottom of the rusty metal steps and I’m surprised no one has called out, or challenged us during our descent. Even when we scramble over a garden wall and drop into a neighbouring street in front of a startled old man walking a snarly dog, no one shouts. Violet scoops up Erwin and we hurry away, trying to act as normal as possible, even though my heart is rattling round my ribcage like a rubber ball and my legs feel like squids.

  “Will we be safe,” Vi gasps, “in the hotel?”

  “Dunno,” I say. “But where else can we go?”

  We stop to get our breath back.

  “I think the place I most want to go right now,” says Violet after a moment, “is Jenny Hanniver’s bookshop.”

  I nod. “We should take Erwin back anyway.”

  “Thank you, puss,” says Vi, giving him a quick kiss on the head as we hurry away. “I hope you didn’t get hurt.”

  Erwin closes his eyes and purrs.

  When we reach the Eerie Book Dispensary, I’m surprised to find it’s closed and all dark inside.

  I rattle the door handle uselessly, before slumping down on the doorstep. Stupidly, I’m still clutching the harpoon.

  Violet sits down beside me. “Did you see…?” she says. “Boathook Man! Did he really…?”

  I nod.

  “Like a ghost,” Violet continues. “He came out of the tap like a ghost. I didn’t think such things were possible.”

  I shrug.

  “If the impossible is possible anywhere, it’ll be possible in Eerie-on-Sea.”

  Hey, that’s quite good, that is. I should say it more often. Then I realize that it wasn’t actually me who said it at all. And it wasn’t Violet.

  We both look at Erwin.

  The cat narrows his blue eyes at us and emits a smug purr.

  “You heard him that time, right?” says Vi to me. “Herbie, please tell me you just heard Erwin say those words.”

  “I heard him,” I say. Then I turn back to the cat. “Oi, fleabag. You’re talking to everyone now, are you?”

  Cats don’t have eyebrows, but Erwin manages to raise one at me anyway.

  “OK, OK, I’m sorry,” I say. “‘Fleabag’ isn’t fair. Not after you saved me from Boathook Man. But I thought you only spoke to me. I thought we agreed years ago you’d keep it secret.”

  Erwin half lowers his eyelids at me and, in a bored human voice, says, “Me-ow.”

  But the look on his face is all, Oh no Herbie Lemon, I didn’t agree to any such thing.

  Then the cat climbs onto Violet’s lap and purrs in exaggerated contentment as she strokes him.

  “This town is weird,” says Vi, in an amazed voice. “Weird, but wonderful.”

  “Weird and wonderful, yes,” I say. “But also dangerous. Thanks again, Erwin.” I give the cat a scritch behind the ear.

  “And how about me, Herbie?” says Violet, sticking her chin out. “Still not sure you can trust me? I mean, now I’ve been shot and nearly killed by a harpoon. Do you still think I’m in cahoots with Sebastian Eels?”

  I adjust my cap and nearly meet her eye.

  “Um,” I say, twiddling that very same harpoon between my fingers. “Sorry about that.”

  “How could you even think it?”

  “It’s just…” I start. “Vi, how did you know where Eels lives?”

  Vi’s chin wobbles slightly. “OK,” she says. “I suppose I haven’t been completely straight with you.”

  “Oh?”

  She folds her arms. “Look, it took me a long time to pluck up the courage to leave my guardian and come here, Herbie. And I might not have come at all, if Great-Aunt Winniegar hadn’t decided to start a new life in Tasmania.”

  “You came here from Tasmania?”

  “No!” says Vi. “Tasmania’s on the other side of the world. If I’d gone too, it would have been years before I could have come to Eerie-on-Sea, if ever. But I knew that if I ran away just as we were due to leave, my guardian wouldn’t bother trying to find me. She’d never risk missing her boat, and that new life she wanted would certainly be happier without me getting in the way.”

  Erwin arches his back and rubs Violet’s cheek with his head.

  “Anyway,” says Vi, “it also meant I had less time to prepare than I thought; less time to research Eerie-on-Sea. Almost all the information I could find was about Sebastian Eels.”

  “Eels?”

  “Yes. He’s more famous than you might realize, Herbie. My local library has lots of his books. Even Great-Aunt Winniegar has read some. So when I got here, I honestly thought he would be my main lead to my parents. I imagined, since my dad is an author too, that Eels would have known him, that they would have been friends. It’s what gave me the idea to come here in the first place.”

  “But I thought you said you came to see me?” I say, though I hate the whiny tone it brings to my voice. “You said you needed a detective, that you needed my lost-and-foundering to solve the case. You said I was famous.”

  “Oh, Herbie, I do need you. I didn’t lie. It’s just that I’d never met you, and the hotel sounded so strange when I read about it, and I was nervous about coming to such a grand old place. I didn’t know how you’d react. So, instead, when I arrived at the railway station, I asked someone the way to Sebastian Eels’ house, and they told me, simple as that. I went there – just to look at first – but when I saw that a back window was open, I thought… Well, I thought…”

  “You thought you’d start the adventure without me.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” says Vi, with a groan. “Anyway, I had a good look over the house, which I thought was empty, and found the study. I was just about to get down to some serious rummaging when I realized there was someone there.”

  “Eels?” I say, but Violet shakes her head and shudders.

  “No, worse. Imagine how it felt to be in a stranger’s house, without permission, in the dark, and to see Boathook Man emerging from the shadows. It was terrifying.”

  “That’s when you came to the hotel?”

  Violets nods. “I tried to lose him. I ran and I ran but he was faster than I would have ever imagined. I couldn’t shake him off. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “And that’s it?” I say. “That’s all you’re keeping from me?”

  “Yes, I promise,” Vi says. “I should have told you sooner. I just thought you’d get the wrong idea if you knew where I’d been and what I’d been doing, and I was right, wasn’t I?”

  I say nothing. I lift my eyes to the glass tower of the Grand Nautilus Hotel, peering like an eye over the roofs and eaves of the old town. Lady Kraken can see a lot with that cameraluna of hers, but seeing isn’t necessarily understanding. No wonder she needs someone like me on the ground. For a moment, I’m tempted to wave up at her. Then it crosses my mind to make a rude sign. In the end, though, I just get to my feet and brush the snow off my bottom.

  “I’m starving,” I say. “Let’s go to Seegol’s for chips. We need to work out what to do next.”

  “Good idea,” says Vi, standing too.

  Erwin strolls over to the door of the bookshop and miaows, pawing at the door.

  “I’m sorry, puss, but it’s locked,” says Vi, and she rattles the handle to show him. “You’ll just have to wait for Jenny to—”

  Then she stops.

  We both stare open-mouthed as the door, which I swear was locked fast a moment ago, swings quietly open.

  THE ACHILLES SPOT

  IT’S DARK INSIDE THE BOOK DISPENSARY. The fire is cold in the hearth, and the only light comes from the tall bow window.

  “Hello?” I call.

  There’s no answer.

  “We shouldn’t really be in here,” says Vi, hesitating in the doorway.

  “Ha!” I reply. “Says the girl who breaks into people’s houses all the time. Besides, it kind of feels like Erwin has invited us in. This is his home too. I don’t think Jenny would mind.”

  As if to confirm this, Erwin jumps into one of the armchairs, and curls up. But I cannot help noticing that he keeps one of his eyes open, watching us.

  Violet walks over to the mermonkey, and I join her. The creature leers down at us over its black typewriter, its hairy shoulders hunched, its ancient battered top hat extended for the offering. There’s a slight whiff of burnt hair and spent fuses about it.

  “Thinking of asking it what we should do next?” I ask. “People do that, you know. Ask it for guidance. But you have to be careful.”

  “What do you mean?” says Vi.

  “Well, you never know if the book it dispenses will tell you something about your future, or something about your past. Or something else entirely. I met a man once who swears he belched in front of the mermonkey and got dispensed a copy of Gone with the Wind, so it definitely has a sense of humour, too.”

  Violet shrugs. “It doesn’t feel like the moment for a new book,” she says. “I’m still working my way through the last one.”

  “You’re probably right,” I say. “Anyway, did you find anything interesting in Eels’ study?”

  “Yes, my dad’s manuscript! His unpublished book about the malamander. It was just lying there on the desk. Eels must have stolen it from my parents’ luggage, as we thought. But there’s a page missing. Eels has stuck notes all over the pages either side of where it should be, trying to work out what was missing. But it doesn’t look like he managed it.”

  “That missing page must be pretty important,” I say, remembering the conversation we overheard in the study.

  “Eels said it was the page where my dad described the malamander’s one weakness,” says Vi. “The gap in its armour he will need to know if he’s going to be sure of killing it and keeping the egg.”

  “Then your dad did the right thing taking that page out!” I say. “I can’t believe he put in something like that.”

  “He probably couldn’t help himself,” says Vi. “From all I’ve heard, I think my dad loved the old stories a bit too much. I expect he couldn’t bear to leave anything out. In the end, though, he must have known it was a mistake and hidden the page somewhere. Maybe he sensed danger from Eels. Thank goodness he did.”

  “It sounds like Eels is mad enough to try to steal the egg anyway,” I say. “So hopefully the big bully will get himself eaten by the monster, and the rest of us can live happily ever after.”

  “I won’t, though, will I?” says Vi, with a sigh. “I still won’t know what happened to my mum and dad.”

  I nod. What can I say to that? Then I think of something.

  “Let’s go and get those chips.”

  I turn and head towards the shop door. But I see that Violet hasn’t moved.

  “Herbie, do you remember what Jenny said about my dad’s last visit to the book dispensary?” she says. “The time he brought my mum?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “She said he wanted to show the mermonkey to your mother. And that he had his manuscript with him.”

  “But there was something else,” says Vi. “Don’t you remember? Jenny said Dad was goofing about with the mermonkey’s hat, trying it on.”

  I shrug. Why is that important? But then…

  “Hey, wait – what are you doing?” I blurt out, because Violet has just tugged the mermonkey’s top hat right out of its hand! The mermonkey shivers, and a few dead flies fall to the floor. But the creature remains inactive.

  Violet raises the crumbling hat with both hands, as if about to put it on, even though there’s no way it would go over her mass of curls. Then she lowers it again, and peers inside.

  “Vi, you should put that back,” I say. “Jenny won’t mind us being in her shop, but she will mind very much if we break the mermonkey. You heard what she said about your dad always having to fix it.”

  But Violet just peers even closer into the fusty old hat. “I did hear,” she says. “I heard that he even patched up this very hat, though the band inside is loose and the lining is coming out…”

  “The whole cronky apparatus must be a hundred years old, at least.” I start hopping from one foot to another, as I watch Violet poking her finger into the lining of the hat. “Vi, please be careful!”

 

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