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‘Safe harbour,’ the bird announced in a clear, distinct voice.
Kleo sat down and coiled her tail around her legs. ‘Yes, there’s that,’ she said. ‘We think that’s why she came here, to get away from whatever it was that scared her. All the animals around here know, or at least sense, that Watchward Lane is a safe haven – unless you’re a mouse or a bird when Ari’s around.’
‘You mean you don’t eat mice and birds?’ asked Jack.
‘Not when they are seeking refuge,’ sniffed Kleo.
‘The devil and the deep blue sea,’ said Cornelia, waddling over to inspect the nut Jack held. She sniffed him first and, after a moment’s careful consideration, deigned to take the offering.
‘She says that a lot, too,’ Kleo observed. ‘I don’t know what it means.’
‘Isn’t it a saying, like caught between a rock and a hard place?’ asked Jaide.
Jack nodded. Hector Shield liked to say that he was stuck between the kettle and the steeped oolong tea.
‘So she was frightened at the estate and she’s frightened here, too,’ Jack said. ‘But she’s safe here, isn’t she?’
‘Perfectly, while Custer is keeping Ari distracted,’ Kleo said. ‘She might be the only witness who can tell us what really happened to Young Master Rourke on the night he died.’
‘Can you tell us, Cornelia?’ asked Jack, offering her a big shiny pumpkin seed this time. ‘We just want to stop it from happening again.’
Cornelia raised her head and tilted it to one side, glancing at Jack first, then Jaide, then back again. She seemed to be trying to work something out.
‘Out of the rain,’ she said.
‘That’s new,’ said Kleo, ears pricking up.
‘Out of the rain,’ Cornelia said again, more firmly than before.
‘What are you trying to tell us, Cornelia?’ asked Jack.
‘That’s not rain.’
‘What isn’t?’
‘You daft old fool. Batten down the hatches! Rourke! Rourke!’
Cornelia spread her wings and flapped them up and down, sending tiny feathers and seed husks flying all around them. Jaide retreated, spluttering, while Jack tried to calm the bird down.
‘Shhh! Cornelia, it’s all right! We’re here – you’re safe!’
But the bird couldn’t be consoled, and in the end they had to throw the cover back over the cage in the hope that she would settle down. Slowly, with the occasional raucous ‘Rourke’, Cornelia did become quiet, although Jack could hear her moving about inside the cage.
Kleo went back to the dragon seat and sat like a sphinx, facing the twins.
‘Well.’ She sighed. ‘That was all new. I don’t think it means anything, but it’s progress of sorts. She likes you, Jack.’
‘She still doesn’t like the way I smell, though,’ he said, sniffing his fingertips. They didn’t smell like anything more sinister than hamburger, and perhaps a small amount of dirt. Next time he would wash his hands to be sure.
‘I’m just going to look in the Compendium,’ Jaide told Kleo, giving Jack a keep her distracted look as she went to the desk.
‘Not gold cards again, I hope,’ said the cat, looking amused.
‘No,’ Jaide said truthfully. ‘We’re just worried about getting out of touch while Grandma’s in the hospital and we’re busy helping Rodeo Dave.’
She opened the Compendium and began to focus her thoughts on the idea of skeleton keys in general, since she didn’t know what this one looked like.
‘Speaking of Rodeo Dave,’ said Jack, ‘has he seemed all right to you lately?’
‘Not really,’ Kleo said. ‘He has been very tense since the old man died.’
‘Were you with him the night it happened?’
‘I was. The phone call woke us both up.’
‘What phone call?’
‘The one from the old man.’
‘Young Master Rourke called Rodeo Dave?’ This was a twist Jack hadn’t anticipated. ‘What did he want with him?’
The cat shook his head. ‘I don’t know, but it was definitely him. Rodeo Dave said “Rourke” three times, then he went out to the estate in a hurry. That’s why he was the first to find the old man.’
Jack sat on his knees in front of Kleo, struggling to absorb all this new information. Rodeo Dave had spoken to Young Master Rourke while he was still alive. Then Rodeo Dave had rushed out to the estate and found the old man dead and the lodge thoroughly ransacked. Or had he? Had he taken the opportunity to look for the Card of Translocation while Young Master Rourke had been out of the picture? Or had he killed the old man himself because of something he had been told on the phone . . . ?
That was a picture of Rodeo Dave quite unlike the man Jack thought he knew. But as Jaide said, nothing in Portland was ever simple.
‘Jack?’ said Jaide. ‘Come look at this.’
There was something odd about Jaide’s tone, and with good reason. Her thoughts had been distracted by Jack and Kleo’s conversation. Instead of focusing on skeleton keys, she had been thinking about Young Master Rourke, living alone on the giant estate, the son of a man who had made such an impact on Portland’s prosperity but had not been terribly well liked.
Then she had turned the page and seen a familiar picture.
‘This one again?’ said Jack, leaning close over her shoulder. ‘Portland in 1872,’ he read. The image showed a whale carcass being winched ashore in front of a crowd of old-fashioned people. Everyone in the photo had wide, white eyes, indicating that they belonged to The Evil.
‘Look at him,’ said Jaide, pointing.
Standing with one arm upraised, facing the camera, was a man in a black suit.
‘Do you recognise him?’ Jaide asked.
Jack squinted, then gasped.
‘That’s Young Master Rourke’s father!’ he said. ‘The one in the portrait and the statue in the library . . . but it can’t be, can it? I mean, it’s too long ago.’
> ‘It looks like him,’ said Jaide. ‘And he was Evil.’
Kleo made them both jump as she hopped up onto the desk and nosed the picture.
‘That’s the first Rourke,’ she said. ‘The grandfather. He started the whaling, but it was his son who built up everything else. They looked very alike. And the white eyes there might just be because it’s an old photograph.’
‘Oh,’ said Jaide, disappointed. ‘There are too many Rourkes.’
‘Only three,’ Jack pointed out. ‘Grandfather Rourke, the whaler. Mister Rourke, the rich one who built everything. And Young Master Rourke.’
‘I still think Grandfather Rourke was part of The Evil,’ said Jaide, studying the photograph again. She shuddered and said, ‘Look at all those white eyes . . .’
‘Can you imagine what it would be like to have a dad who was part of The Evil?’ Jack wondered aloud.
Jaide shuddered again, as though something slimy had slithered down her spine. She didn’t want to imagine anything as horrible as that – not on top of Grandma X being in hospital and Rodeo Dave being a possible sleeper agent.
‘I don’t think I want to look at this for a while,’ she said, shutting the Compendium. ‘I guess we should go to bed.’
Jack looked at her in surprise. ‘I don’t want to go to bed. It’s too early.’
‘I suppose we could stay here and keep Cornelia company for a while,’ said Jaide, with a wink that the cat couldn’t see. ‘Do you want a break, Kleo?’
Kleo’s ears twitched.
‘I could do with a stroll,’ she acknowledged. ‘The night does beckon.’
‘Well, we’ll stay here for, say, half an hour,’ said Jaide. ‘Would that be okay?’
‘That is most considerate of you,’ said Kleo. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’
She jumped down from the table, shot up the steps to the tapestry-covered door, whisked behind one corner, and was gone.
Jaide waited for a few seconds, in case the cat came back, then shut her eyes and placed her hands on the Compendium. This time she thought ferociously about skeleton keys and, in particular, the one owned by her grandfather.
