The Highland Falcon Thief Page 7
A passing Inter-City Express honked its horn, and the Highland Falcon tooted her whistle in reply. Hal held up his picture, comparing it to the engine, and frowned as he caught sight of something white and fluffy moving between the wheels of the observation car.
It was Bailey.
‘Closer … closer …’ Joey called, as the locomotive’s giant wheels rolled towards the observation car.
Hal leaped to his feet in horror.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE THRONE ROOM
‘Stop!’ Hal shouted, dropping his sketchbook as he sprinted forward, waving his arms madly.
Mr Singh saw him and slammed on the brakes. Reaching the observation car, Hal dropped to his knees and scanned beneath the carriage. A pair of frightened blue eyes peered at him through the dark.
‘Here, Bailey. C’mon, girl,’ he called to the dog.
Bailey made a whimpering sound, then bounded out from under the train, leaping into Hal’s arms, knocking him to the ground and licking his face.
‘S’all right, girl. I’ve got you.’
‘Is the dog OK?’ Uncle Nat was holding Hal’s sketchbook. He laughed as Bailey tried to sit on Hal. ‘I think she likes you.’
‘Bailey, you shouldn’t play on the train tracks!’ Hal scolded. ‘You could’ve been hurt.’
Uncle Nat waved to Mohanjit and Joey to indicate the dog was OK. There was a high-pitched whistle, and Bailey shot out of Hal’s lap. She ran to Rowan, who took two fingers from his mouth as the five dogs gathered at his feet, sitting on their haunches, tails wagging. He grimaced as he stooped to scoop a poo into a bag, which he dropped into another bag, before tying it up.
‘He shouldn’t have let Bailey run under the train.’ Hal scowled at the man. ‘She could have been killed.’
Uncle Nat returned Hal’s sketchbook. ‘I know. Come on – let’s get back on board.’
Hal followed his uncle up on to the observation car veranda and back inside. It was odd to see the iron face of the Highland Falcon peering in through the glass doors. She gave a cheerful whistle, a puff of black smoke pumping out of her chimney, as she hauled the train backwards.
Steaming away from the main line on to a single track, they chuffed past the backs of people’s homes. Hal watched as a girl ran to the end of her garden and excitedly waved at the train. The houses began to thin, alternating with flashes of green, until soon they were ambling through a verdant valley, the River Dee threaded through it like a silver ribbon.
‘We’re not going very fast,’ Hal said.
‘Special speed restriction on the royal branch line,’ Uncle Nat replied. He sat in a leather armchair, scribbling in a small pocketbook. ‘Queen Victoria never liked to go faster than thirty miles an hour.’
‘Can I go and get that book about inventing time from the library?’
Uncle Nat didn’t look up but nodded.
The Invention of Time was lying just where they’d left it on the table. Hal picked it up, glancing up at the far door and wondering if he could get away with a quick trip to the royal carriage.
‘Psst!’
Hal jumped. His heart startled into a canter as he looked around. The library was empty.
‘Psst!’
He heard a familiar giggle.
‘Lenny? Is that you?’ he whispered. ‘Where are you?’
‘Come to the history books.’
Hal spotted a corner of books about the Tudors and made his way over. He brushed his fingers over the leather spines as he passed. One book sat out a little from the shelf: The Tudor Beard Tax. He instinctively pulled it, there was a click, and the case of books moved towards him. Behind the small secret door was a tiny chamber decorated with a mural of red and gold leaf flowers. Inside, Lenny sat grinning up at him.
‘Are you sitting on a toilet?’
‘Shh.’ She grabbed him and pulled him into the loo, shutting the bookcase behind him. ‘This is not just any toilet,’ she said. ‘This is the Queen’s toilet!
‘The Queen has a secret loo?’
‘The Queen doesn’t share toilets,’ Lenny replied. ‘She is the only person allowed to … you know what … in here. And when she does, no one is allowed in the library.’
‘I’ll bet she reads on the loo.’ Hal chuckled. ‘Listen, I was coming to find you. I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Me too.’ Lenny leaned forward. ‘I know who the Magpie is.’
‘What? I bet you don’t.’
Lenny lifted her nose. ‘It’s Milo Essenbach.’
Hal gasped. ‘How did you know?’
‘I worked it out. Milo is the baron’s second son.’ Lenny raised her eyebrows. ‘When his dad dies, he won’t inherit a penny. In aristocratic families, the first son gets everything, and everyone else gets nothing.’
‘That doesn’t seem fair.’
‘Apart from you and me, everyone on this train is rich or has been hired to do a job. They have no reason to steal jewels. But Milo Essenbach has a motive. He seems rich, but he’s not.’
Hal nodded. ‘And because he’s a baron’s son, he is surrounded by people with expensive jewellery.’
Lenny smiled. ‘So he has opportunity … And he doesn’t like trains. His dad is crazy about steam locos, but Amy says Milo looks bored when the baron talks about them. So why is he here?’
‘To steal jewellery!’ Hal grabbed Lenny’s arm excitedly. ‘I saw something in his fist; something sparkly. He hid it in his pocket. And then he pretended to go off to his room, but ten minutes later, he was here in the library. Uncle Nat and I surprised him. He dropped his book and looked guilty.’
‘Which book was it? It might be a clue.’
Hal shook his head. ‘It was just some dumb book about ducks.’
‘Oh.’ Lenny looked deflated.
‘What should we do – tell the police?’
‘We can’t just accuse him. Who’s going to believe a couple of kids? And I’m a stowaway, remember! We need proof.’ She frowned. ‘Has anything else gone missing since last night?’
‘Not as far as I know.’ Hal shook his head and an uncomfortable thought crept into it. ‘Lenny, what if Milo Essenbach didn’t come on the Highland Falcon to steal small things like a brooch or earrings?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘If I was a notorious jewel thief, I’d want to steal something big, from the richest people in the world …’
‘The prince and princess!’ Lenny’s mouth dropped open, and she grabbed him. ‘I know what Milo’s going to steal! The necklace that the prince gave his wife as a wedding present. It’s from the royal collection. It’s got the biggest flawless diamond in the world dangling from it. It’s called the Atlas Diamond, and it’s the size of a small egg. The newspapers say it’s priceless.’
‘The size of an egg?’ Hal tried to picture it. ‘How come you know about it?’
‘Everyone knows about it! There were pictures on the front of every newspaper. A huge diamond on a chain studded with loads of smaller diamonds. She wore it at the wedding. That’s what Milo’s planning to steal – I know it!’
Hal felt a rush of urgency. ‘We have to stop him!’
‘Or –’ Lenny bit her lip – ‘we could try to catch him in the act. Then we’d have the evidence we’d need to get him locked up and claim the reward.’
Hal frowned. ‘But we don’t know when he’s going to steal it. Or how.’
‘Think about it. He can’t steal the necklace until he meets the prince and princess. From the moment he says hello to Her Royal Highness at Balmoral, we won’t take our eyes off him.’
‘When you say we …’
‘Well, obviously I can’t go to Balmoral. You’ll have to do that.’
Hal nodded. ‘And you could search his compartment while we’re in the castle.’
‘I’ll try.’ Lenny chewed her bottom lip. ‘But before the royal family gets on the train, there’s always a security sweep. All train staff have to get off.’
&nbs
p; ‘Won’t you get caught?’
‘When the train pulls into Ballater, I’m going to jump off before it stops. Dad says I have to tell Harold the station master that I’ve stowed away.’ Lenny smiled. ‘He went to school with my dad. I’m going to stay with him till the train’s ready to leave.’
‘If there’s a security sweep, won’t they find the missing jewels?’
‘Only if they’re looking for them, which they won’t be. They’ll be looking for bombs and stuff. Most of the train staff think Lady Lansbury is batty and has too much jewellery to know what she’s lost, and that Lydia Pickle probably dropped her brooch, and it’ll turn up.’
‘If I were Milo, I wouldn’t risk leaving stolen jewels on the train,’ Hal said. ‘I’d bring them with me.’
‘Good point. Check his pockets.’
‘How am I supposed to do that?’
But before Lenny could answer, they heard Lydia Pickle squawk a greeting. Lenny put a finger to her lips.
‘I just wanted to say – in private, like – that I trust you. I know you’d never nick my stuff.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Hal recognized the honeyed voice of Sierra Knight right outside the door.
‘You know, cos of what they said in Hot Stories mag – about how you was done for shoplifting.’
‘I was just a k-kid,’ Sierra stammered. ‘I would never steal …’
‘Oh, I know. I just wanted you to know – now that we’re mates – I never once thought you nicked it. Stevie thinks it’s that boy, but I reckon one of them waitresses found it and kept it.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention … my past.’
‘Mum’s the word.’
‘I’m … going to my room to get changed now.’
‘I’ll walk with you.’
‘Oh, you don’t have to.’
‘I want to.’
Their voices drifted away.
Hal mouthed at Lenny, ‘Sierra?’
Lenny shook her head. ‘Too much to lose,’ she whispered. ‘It’s Milo – I know it.’ She looked at her watch and put her ear to the door. ‘You should go – we’re nearly at Ballater.’ She pushed Hal out into the empty library. ‘Remember: don’t take your eyes off him.’
Hal heard the train’s whistle announce their approach to Ballater as he stumbled into his compartment. He grabbed the smart clothes and pulled them on, tucking his St Christopher into his shirt. Mum would laugh to see him dressed like this. He’d ask Isaac to take a photo to show her.
The brakes of the Highland Falcon hissed as they eased into the station. Hal leaned out of the window. A small crowd of people were hanging over a fence by the quaint white station building, ogling the train. At the far end of the platform, he saw Lenny’s dad jump down to shake the hand of the station master.
Uncle Nat tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Oh good, you’re dressed. Come here – let me redo that bow tie. Grab your blazer – it’s nippy out there.’
Ballater was a world away from King’s Cross. Mountains framed the small town, and a crisp wind pushed Hal along the platform. He hurried forward, falling into step beside Milo, who was walking with Sierra and Lucy, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his grey coat.
‘Honestly, Lucy, that Pickle woman is unbearable,’ Sierra muttered. ‘She won’t leave me alone.’
‘I like her,’ Lucy replied. ‘What you see is what you get with her. It’s refreshingly honest.’
Milo said nothing as Hal followed the three of them through the station building and out on to the street, where four black Jaguars with tinted windows were parked. Hal gawked.
‘Are they for us?’
Milo nodded. ‘I believe so.’
Hal smiled at him, deciding he would try to get in the same car as his suspect, but Uncle Nat called him back to ride with him, Isaac and Ernest.
Clambering into the car, Hal sat in the middle, leaning forward, his eyes glued to the car in front and the back of Milo’s head.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BOWLED OVER AT BALMORAL
Rising from behind a wall of towering fir trees came the stone parapets of Balmoral. Hal felt as if he were in a movie as the convoy of black cars rolled soundlessly along the curved drive towards the castle.
‘It looks like Camelot,’ he said, ‘but real.’
‘Fairy-tale architecture,’ Uncle Nat agreed.
The cars stopped in a neat line. The drivers got out and, like synchronized dancers, opened the doors for their passengers in unison.
Hal saw Sierra swing her legs out of the car in front, rising elegantly in her emerald pencil skirt and matching jacket with fur trim. Lucy Meadows climbed out after her, and Milo was the last to emerge.
‘What are you waiting for, Hal?’ Uncle Nat chided. ‘There’s a prince and princess to meet.’
Lady Lansbury had insisted on bringing her dogs. She got out of her car, ignoring the driver’s outstretched hand, and strode over to the baron. Behind her, Rowan struggled with the Samoyeds, who were jumping around, yapping, and pulling in different directions, clearly excited to be outdoors again. Hal smiled, wondering if they were catching the scent of rabbits.
‘The Scottish Highlands are truly magnificent,’ the baron declared to Lady Lansbury, audibly filling his lungs with fresh air.
Lady Lansbury raised her eyebrows and nodded. ‘Indeed.’
Hal noticed that Milo was stood apart from the group. Isaac screwed a long lens on to his camera and began taking pictures. Sierra pouted prettily for him.
An enormous pair of wooden doors swung open in the crenellated porch at the near corner of the castle, and two rows of house staff filed out dressed in black-and-white uniform. The staff greeted the guests with silent bows and curtsies. Hal wasn’t sure how to respond and found himself bobbing up and down as he walked past them. The prince and princess were standing in the doorway. The prince looked dapper, standing with his hands behind his back, wearing a suit with a tartan tie, a broad smile across his face. Beside him stood his wife in an ivory tea dress and a tangerine bolero jacket embroidered with sunflowers.
The sun found a chink in the clouds and momentarily shone through, dazzlingly bright, lighting up a sparkling stone the size of a bantam egg hanging around the princess’s neck.
Hal gasped. It was the necklace Lenny had described. He looked over at Milo and noticed that he too was staring at the necklace.
Ignoring formalities, Sierra rushed towards the princess with her arms flung wide open. The two women greeted each other like sisters, squealing and hugging, then Sierra stepped back and did an elaborate curtsy, and the prince laughed.
‘No! Bailey!’ Rowan shouted. ‘Heel, boy. HEEL!’ He lurched forward as the dog’s leash flew from his hand.
Sierra cried out as Bailey bounded towards her. ‘Help! It’s attacking me again!’
Rowan ran to grab Bailey’s leash. The other dogs exploded free as he lost his grip on them, and they all galloped towards Sierra, their leashes dragging behind them.
‘Rowan!’ Lady Lansbury snapped. ‘Get those dogs under control immediately!’
Sierra screamed, but before the dogs reached her, the princess stepped in front of her and knelt down with her arms open wide, laughing with delight as the deluge of dogs bounded around her. She wrinkled her nose, closing her eyes as they licked her face.
‘Viking! Bailey! Fitzroy! Get down!’ Lady Lansbury rushed over to the princess. ‘Oh, Your Highness, I cannot apologize enough. Rowan!’ She glared at her gentleman-in-waiting. ‘Get over here this instant!’
Hal wanted to help with the dogs, but Milo had slipped into the porch. Lady Lansbury put an arm around the princess to keep the dogs at bay, bopping them on the nose with her purse.
‘Naughty Trafalgar! I’m so sorry, Your Highness – they’ve been cooped up on the train all day. Get down, Shannon!’
‘I don’t mind!’ The princess laughed as one of the dogs pushed its nose into her neck.
‘My wife loves d
ogs,’ the prince explained to everyone proudly.
Taking his chance while everyone was distracted, Hal crept towards his suspect, doing his best to remain unseen. Milo was standing in the shadows, hunched over … examining something in his hand. Hal shuffled closer, trying to see what it was. There was a shout, and Hal turned to see Fitzroy running towards them, followed by a bellowing Rowan. Turning back, he caught sight of Milo stuffing a piece of paper into his coat pocket.
‘Sit, Fitzroy,’ Hal said, and the dog did as he was told.
‘Gotcha!’ Rowan grabbed Fitzroy’s lead and yanked the dog away so roughly, it whined.
Hal scowled at the man.
‘I adore Samoyeds,’ the princess was saying to Lady Lansbury. ‘Such gorgeous creatures.’ She scratched behind Shannon’s ears. ‘They always look like they’re smiling.’ She turned to the prince. ‘I had one called Sammy when I was a girl. I loved that dog.’
‘They’re normally so well behaved,’ said Lady Lansbury, covering her eyes with a gloved hand and shaking her head. ‘I can’t think what’s got into them. I truly am frightfully sorry.’
‘It’s quite all right,’ said the prince, stepping forward and offering his arm to his wife.
‘No, it is not.’ Lady Lansbury put up her hand in protest. ‘Rowan, take my babies back to the train at once. You can walk them to the station. They need the exercise.’
Rowan’s cheeks flushed. ‘But that’s more than an hour’s—’
‘And this handbag you picked out for me –’ Lady Lansbury turned her head away and held out her purse – ‘is all wrong. I shall luncheon without it.’ She slapped the clutch purse against his chest. ‘When we return to London,’ she added, ‘I’ll be reviewing your employment contract.’
With five leads in one fist, and a lady’s purse in the other, Hal watched Rowan drag the dogs away down the drive, all of them yapping and straining at their leashes, seemingly desperate to get back to the princess for one last cuddle.
‘Shall we go in?’ The prince motioned toward the castle.
‘Your Highness –’ Uncle Nat bowed his head – ‘I’m Nathaniel Bradshaw, and this is my nephew Harrison Beck.’