7

Night-time is the right time, when it comes to crime.

Obviously it’s the right time for criminals, because they can skulk about in shadows and perform their heinous acts under the cover of darkness. But it is also the right time for policemen, because the flashing lights atop their squad cars look so much more impressive at night, and it is to be noticed that once they have reached a crime scene and blocked off the surrounding roads with that special tape that we’d all like to own a roll of,^* they never switch off those flashing lights, even though they must be running the cars’ batteries down, because those flashing lights just look so good. They give the crime scene that extra something. They are a must. They are.

‘Switch off those damn lights,’ shouted Chief Inspector Bellis, stepping from his special police car – the one with the double set of flashing lights and four big bells on the top – and striking the nearest laughing policeman about the helmet. ‘They give me a headache.’

‘Aw, Chief,’ went several laughing ones, though these were out of striking distance.

‘Just do it,’ roared Bellis, ‘and do it now.’ And he crunched over broken glass and approached the ruination that had so recently been Old King Cole’s.

Jack stood in the doorway, flanked by two burly constables. Jack was in handcuffs.

‘And take those off !’ bawled Bellis.

‘Aw,’ went one of the burly officers of the law. ‘But Chief—’

‘But me no buts. And where’s that bear?’

Bellis had actually picked Eddie up from Tinto’s. Which had come as quite a surprise to the bear. Eddie was now asleep in Bellis’s car. The driver, a special constable with the name ‘Yuk-Yuk’ printed on his back, leaned over the back of his seat and poked the sleeper with the business end of his truncheon.

Eddie awoke in some confusion, tried to rise, but failed dismally. He had been sleeping on his left side, with the result that his left arm and leg were now drunk, whilst the rest of him was sober.

‘Out!’ urged the driver, prodding Eddie once more.

Eddie tumbled from the car, fought his way into the vertical plane and then shambled in a most curious manner towards the fractured front doors of Old King Cole’s.

‘Hurry up,’ urged Bellis, ‘or I will be forced to arrest you on trumped-up charges and bang you away for an indefinite period.’

‘I’m doing my best,’ Eddie said.

And, ‘It wasn’t me,’ said Jack. ‘Hi, Eddie.’

‘Hello, Jack.’ Eddie’s left leg gave way beneath him and Eddie sank down on his bum.

‘I’m not impressed,’ said Bellis. ‘Not impressed at all.’

‘It wasn’t me,’ Jack said once more, ‘in case you didn’t hear me the first time.’

Bellis did glarings at Jack and then dragged Eddie to his feet. ‘How many of you officers have been inside this building corrupting the crime scene?’ he asked.

Numerous officers – all of the officers, in fact – made guilty faces. But one of them said, ‘We all had to go in, Chief – this mass-murderer put up quite a struggle.’

‘Oh no I didn’t,’ said Jack.

‘Oh yes you did,’ said officers all, laughing as they did so.

‘Well, stay out now. Come on, you two.’ Bellis dragged Eddie and prodded Jack.

‘But sir,’ said one of the burly policemen who had been guarding Jack, ‘this meathead is a mad’n, sir. He’ll do for you soon as give you a look.

‘Stand aside, you gormster.’

Now, it had to be said that at least the policemen had set up some lights, and the interior of Old King Cole’s was now well lit throughout.

And what with the devastation and the flashing of the police car warning lights, none of which had actually been switched off, it was a pretty impressive crime scene.

Eddie leaned his drunken parts against a fluted column and surveyed the wreckage. ‘The last time I was here,’ he said, ‘was on the night I was elected mayor. Remember that, Jack? What a night that was, eh?’

‘Silence,’ said Bellis.

‘Sorry,’ said Eddie.

‘I didn’t do it,’ said Jack.

‘Shut up,’ said Bellis, and Jack shut up.

Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis puffed up his chest and then blew out a mighty breath. ‘Right,’ said he, ‘we are all alone now. Examine the crime scene. Do whatever it is that you do. Find me clues. Go on, now.’

‘Then I’m not under arrest for quadruple murder?’^* said Jack.

‘Did you do it?’ asked Bellis.

‘No,’ said Jack.

‘Then get to work.’

‘Oh,’ said Jack. ‘Eddie?’

Eddie shrugged. ‘Let’s go to work,’ said he.

‘Right,’ said Jack, rubbing his palms together. ‘Well, already I deduce—’

‘Jack,’ said Eddie.

‘Eddie?’ said Jack.

‘Jack, I am the detective. You’re my sidekick, remember?’

‘I thought we were partners,’ said Jack.

‘Oh, we are,’ Eddie said, ‘and in partnership you do what you do best and I do what I do best.’

‘So what do I do best?’ Jack asked.

‘Well,’ said Eddie, ‘you might start by trying to find three unbroken glasses and an unbroken bottle of something nice.’

‘I never drink on duty,’ said Bellis.

‘Naturally not,’ said Eddie. ‘The three glasses are for me – it’s thirsty work, this detective game.’

Bellis made a certain face. Eddie got to work.

Jack sought bottle and glasses. Bellis watched Eddie work. He watched as the little bear climbed carefully onto the stage, dropped carefully to his belly and did peerings all about. Did risings up and chin-cuppings with paws. Did standings back with head cocked on one side. Did pickings up of somethings and sniffings of same. Did careful steppings amidst broken footlight glass. Did clamberings up onto Dolly Dumpling and peepings here and there.

Presently Bellis tired of all this.

‘What do you think?’ he called to Eddie. ‘What do you think happened here?’

‘Same as the monkeys,’ said Eddie. ‘Their inside workings are gone. Nothing left but shells.’

‘And Dolly Dumpling?’ Bellis asked.

‘Neck broken,’ said Eddie. ‘One big twist. And that’s one big neck to twist.’

‘Come on,’ said Bellis. ‘I’ve freed your chum here. I picked you up in my car. I can put you in the frame for the cigar heist any time I wish. Give me something I can use. This is serious now.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Eddie. ‘It’s serious now that a meathead’s been murdered. Was it not serious before then?’

‘I put you on the case,’ said Bellis. ‘You know that I thought it was serious.’

‘Quite so,’ said Eddie. ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I have, although it isn’t much and it doesn’t make a lot of sense.’

Bellis said, ‘Go on.’ And Eddie did so.

‘Firstly,’ said Eddie, ‘I have to ask Jack a question.’

Jack’s head popped up from behind the bar counter where he had been searching for glasses.

‘You were here when this happened?’ Eddie asked.

Jack nodded.

‘Then how come you didn’t see it happen? I can tell by the way the broken footlight glass lies that the band members fell before the footlights blew. Surely everyone in this room saw the murders occur.’

Jack shook his head. ‘There was a really bright light,’ he said. ‘It swallowed up the stage and Dolly screamed and her scream shattered all the glass.’

‘Can you describe this bright light to me?’

‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘It was a light and it was bright.’

‘Would you like me to strike him about the head a bit?’ Bellis asked Eddie.

‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll do it myself later.’

‘Oi!’ said Jack.

Eddie grinned and said, ‘I’ll tell you what this crime scene tells me. Someone or something appeared upon this stage. It didn’t come up either of the side steps, nor did it come from backstage, nor did it spring up out of a trap door, because there is none. It simply appeared.’

‘Things can’t simply appear,’ said Bellis. ‘That defies all the rules of everything. Perhaps whatever it was came down from above.’

‘It didn’t,’ said Eddie. ‘It appeared, and with the aid of some kind of hideous weaponry it literally sucked out the inner workings of the band, their very substance.’

‘But not those of Dolly Dumpling,’ said Jack.

‘It wasn’t after her,’ said Eddie, ‘but she was close enough to see what happened, so she had to be silenced.’

‘Things don’t just appear out of nowhere,’ said Bellis.

‘This did,’ said Eddie. ‘I can see all the evidence. After the slaughter, when the lights were out, Jack came up onto this stage alone, holding a candelabra.’

‘I did,’ said Jack.

‘And two burly constables came up afterwards, roughed Jack up a bit and pulled him from the stage.’

‘They did,’ said Jack.

‘Sadly destroying vital evidence,’ said Eddie.

Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis shook his head. ‘This is madness,’ he said.

‘If you have a better explanation,’ Eddie said.

‘Any explanation would be better than yours, which is no explanation at all.’

‘Something has come amongst us,’ said Eddie, ‘something evil, something different, the likes of which Toy City has never experienced before. Whatever did this is not of this world.’

‘Right, that’s it,’ said Bellis. ‘I’m just going to arrest the two of you and have done with it.’

‘On what grounds?’ Eddie protested. ‘You know we’re not responsible for any of this.’

‘On the grounds,’ said Bellis, ‘that if this were to get out, we’d have panic in the city.’

‘No one will hear it from me,’ said Eddie.

‘Nor me,’ said Jack. ‘Will they hear it from you, Chief Inspector?’

‘No, they certainly will not.’

‘Then let Jack and me go about our business,’ Eddie said. ‘I already have certain leads to follow up. I will keep you informed of our progress – discreetly of course.’

Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis looked perplexed. Indeed, he was perplexed.

Jack drove away in Bill Winkie’s splendid automobile. Eddie sat in the back, next to Amelie.

‘I suppose we won’t be going on to that other club now,’ she said.

‘I’ll drop you home,’ said Jack. ‘I’m sorry the evening didn’t go better.’

‘We can make up for that,’ said Amelie.

Eddie wished that he possessed eyebrows, because if he had he could have raised one now.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Jack. ‘Eddie and I have business to attend to.’

The sulky Amelie was dropped at her door, kissed by Jack and waved goodbye to. Jack and Eddie continued on their way.

‘Fine-looking dolly,’ said Eddie. ‘Fine long legs and big—’

‘Stop,’ said Jack. ‘And tell me.’

‘Tell you what?’

‘Whatever it was you were holding back from Bellis. You know more than you’re telling.’

‘Of course I do,’ said Eddie, ‘but I wanted to put the wind up Bellis.’

‘You put the wind up me, too. Monsters from outer space, is that what you’re saying?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Eddie. ‘Perhaps.’

‘So go on, tell me.’

‘I don’t know if I should.’

‘We’re partners, Eddie. You can trust me, you know you can.’

Eddie shrugged and sighed. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but this is bad and it really doesn’t make sense.’

‘Just tell me, Eddie, perhaps I can help.’ Jack swerved violently around a corner, dislodging Eddie from his seat.

‘Slow down!’ cried Eddie. ‘Slow down!’

Jack slowed down. ‘Where are we going anyway?’ he asked.

‘Back to Tinto’s,’ said Eddie.

‘Of course,’ said Jack. ‘Where else?’

Eddie sat and tried to fold his arms. As ever, he did so without success.

‘Out with it,’ said Jack.

‘All right,’ said Eddie. ‘There was other evidence that I didn’t mention to Bellis. I can tell you the height of the murderer. I can tell you his weight. I can tell you his race and his covering.’

‘Go on then,’ said Jack.

‘My height,’ said Eddie, ‘my weight, my race and my plush covering.’

‘A teddy?’ said Jack. ‘A teddy is the murderer?’

‘Not just any teddy. An Anders Imperial.’

‘Just like you.’

‘Not just like me – more than that.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Jack, taking yet another corner without much slowing down.

‘Paw prints,’ said Eddie. ‘Paw prints are as individual as a meathead’s fingerprints. Even with mass-produced toys, they’re all slightly different. They’re all individual.’

‘So you could identify the killer from those paw prints?’

‘I already have,’ said Eddie.

‘So you know who the murderer is? Eddie, you are a genius.’

Eddie shook his head. Sadly so, as it happened. ‘I know who the murderer is,’ said he, ‘but I also know that he can’t be the murderer.’

‘You’re not making sense.’

‘Jack,’ said Eddie, ‘I recognised your footprints on that stage.’

‘It wasn’t me,’ said Jack, and he took another corner at speed, just for good measure.

‘I know it wasn’t you. But I could recognise your footprints anywhere, as well as I could recognise my own. And that’s the problem.’

Jack shook his head. ‘You’re really making a meal of this,’ said he. ‘If you recognised the paw prints, who is the murderer?’

‘I recognised the paw prints of the murderer,’ said Eddie, ‘because they are my paw prints. But I’m not the murderer!’

Presently, Jack screeched to a halt before Tinto’s Bar and the two alighted from the car.

‘I hope he’s still here,’ said Eddie.

‘Tinto rarely recognises licensing hours,’ said Jack.

‘Not Tinto, the spaceman.’

‘What spaceman? There’s a spaceman in Tinto’s Bar?’

‘I spoke with him earlier. He told me that it was a member of the vanguard of the alien strikeforce who had blasted the monkeys.’

‘Ah,’ said Jack. ‘You had been drinking at the time, hadn’t you?’

‘I’d had one or two,’ said Eddie, ‘but I know what he told me. And he told me that these aliens fancied a visit to a jazz club.’

‘Old King Cole’s,’ said Jack.

‘Precisely,’ said Eddie.

‘But an alien teddy bear, who is your doppelgänger?’

‘Stranger things have happened,’ said Eddie.

‘Name one,’ said Jack.

‘Let’s go in,’ said Eddie.

Tinto’s Bar was rather crowded now. In fact, it was rather crowded with a lot of swells that Jack recognised as former patrons of Old King Cole’s.

Jack swore beneath his breath.

Eddie, whose hearing was acute, chuckled.

‘We don’t want their type in here,’ said Jack.

‘And whose type would that be?’ Eddie asked.

‘You know what I mean.’ Jack elbowed his way towards the bar and Eddie followed on in Jack’s wake.

Tinto was serving drinks every which way. Jack located an empty barstool and hoisted Eddie onto it. ‘Drinks over here, Tinto,’ he called.

‘You’ll have to wait your turn,’ called Tinto. ‘I have posh clientele to serve here.’

Jack ground his teeth.

Eddie said, ‘The spaceman was over there in the far corner, Jack – can you see if he’s still there?’

Jack did head-swerves and peepings. ‘I can’t see any spaceman,’ he said. ‘A couple of gollies playing dominoes, but no spaceman.’

‘Tinto,’ called Eddie to the barman, ‘if you can tear yourself away from your new best friends …’

Tinto trundled up the bar. ‘Did you hear what happened at Old King Cole’s?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Eddie. ‘But tell me this – where did the spaceman go?’

‘Is that a trick question?’ Tinto asked.

‘No,’ said Eddie.

‘Shame,’ said Tinto.

‘So, do you know where the spaceman went?’

Tinto scratched at the top of his head. ‘Space?’ he suggested. ‘Is that the right answer? Do I get a prize?’

‘You do,’ said Eddie. ‘You win the chance to pour Jack and me fourteen beers.’

‘Fourteen?’ said Tinto, and he whistled. ‘Was that the star prize?’

Tinto wheeled off to do the business.

Jack said, ‘Eddie, did you really meet a real spaceman?’

‘It all depends what you mean by “real”.’

‘No it doesn’t,’ said Jack, elbowing a swell who really didn’t need elbowing.

‘He was a clockwork spaceman,’ said Eddie. ‘But who is to say whether all spacemen are clockwork?’

‘He was a toy spaceman?’

‘And who is to say that all spacemen aren’t toy spacemen?’

‘I’d be prepared to say it, but as I don’t believe in spacemen, it hardly matters whether I say it or not.’

‘So you don’t believe in the concept that there might be other worlds like ours out there somewhere and that there might be life on them?’

Jack shrugged. ‘Back in the town where I was brought up, there was a lot of talk about that sort of thing. Alien abductions, they were called. People would be driving their cars at night, down some deserted country road, then there’d be a really bright light and then they’d be driving their cars again, but a couple of hours would have passed and they’d have no memory of what had happened. Then this fellow started hypnotising these people and all sorts of strange stories came out about what had happened during the missing hours. That they’d been taken up into space by space aliens and experimented upon, had things poked up their bums.’

‘Up their bums?’

‘Apparently the space aliens do a lot of that kind of thing.’

‘Why?’ Eddie asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jack. ‘Perhaps they have a really weird sense of humour, or they are a bit pervy – who can tell with spacemen?’

‘And these people were telling the truth?’

Jack shrugged. ‘Who can say? In my humble opinion they were all mentals.’

‘So you’re not a believer?’

‘No,’ said Jack, ‘I’m not. I know what I believe in and I know what I don’t. And I don’t believe in spacemen.’

‘I seem to recall,’ said Eddie, ‘when I first met you on the first night that you arrived in Toy City, that you didn’t believe toys could walk and talk and think and live.’

‘I still find that hard to believe,’ said Jack.

Eddie made exasperated noises. Tinto arrived with the drinks on a tray. There were many drinks. Many more than fourteen.

‘We’re three drinks short here,’ said Jack.

Tinto trundled away to make up the shortfall.

Eddie chuckled once more. ‘You fit in quite nicely here now though, don’t you, Jack?’ he said.

‘I still find it hard to believe. But I know it’s true.’

‘Then maybe we’ll have you believing in spacemen before it’s too late.’

‘Too late?’ said Jack. ‘Too late for what?’

‘Too late to stop them,’ said Eddie. ‘Too late for us all.’

‘You’re serious about this, aren’t you?’

‘As I said to Bellis, “If you have a better explanation.” ’

Jack tucked into his share of the beers. ‘Spacemen,’ he said and he shook his head.

‘There’s no telling what’s out there,’ said Eddie, ‘Beyond The Second Big O.’

‘I’ve heard that expression used before,’ said Jack. ‘What exactly does it mean?’

Eddie shrugged. ‘It’s just an expression, I suppose. I don’t know where I heard it first. It means beyond, beyond what we know, someplace other that’s different. Really different.’

‘But why The Second Big O? Why not The First Big O? Why an O at all?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Eddie, tasting beer. ‘I know most things, but I don’t know that.’

‘Perhaps the Toymaker would know.’

‘Perhaps, but I have no inclination to ask him.’ Eddie regarded his paws. ‘Taking my hands away. That was really mean.’

‘They were rather creepy,’ said Jack.

‘They were not creepy! They were wonderful, Jack. I loved those hands.’

‘Perhaps if you save Toy City from the alien invasion he’ll fit you with another pair.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Anything’s possible.’

‘You believe that, do you?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Jack, raising his glass to Eddie.

‘Then let’s drink to the fact that anything’s possible,’ said Eddie, raising his glass between his paws. ‘Let’s have a toast to that anything.’

‘Let’s have,’ said Jack, raising his glass, too.

‘To spacemen,’ said Eddie. ‘As possible as.’

‘Did I hear someone say “spacemen”?’ said Tinto.

‘Jack’s a big believer,’ said Eddie.

‘There was one in here earlier,’ said Tinto.

‘Really?’ said Eddie. ‘How interesting.’

‘Well, he wasn’t that interesting. He spent most of his time cadging drinks. But he did leave something for you.’

Eddie shook his head sadly. ‘You didn’t think to mention this before?’ he said. ‘It might be important.’

‘You said it was,’ said Tinto.

‘I just said it might be,’ said Eddie.

‘No,’ said Tinto, ‘you said it might be important. And then you said it was and then you left with it.’

‘Curiously,’ said Eddie, ‘you aren’t making any sense at all.’

‘When I gave it to you,’ said Tinto, ‘you thanked me for it and you tipped me for giving it to you.’

Eddie shook his head once more. ‘And when did I do this?’ he said.

‘A few minutes ago, when you came in here before.’

‘What?’ said Eddie.

And Jack looked at Eddie. ‘A few minutes ago?’ said Jack, now looking at Tinto.

‘Yes,’ said Tinto, now looking at Eddie. ‘You took the message he left for you, then you left. Then you came back in again, and here you are.’

‘Message?’ said Jack. ‘The spaceman gave Eddie a message?’

‘No, he left it with me and I gave it to Eddie. Do try to pay attention.’

‘What did this message say?’ Eddie asked.

‘Well, you read it,’ said Tinto. ‘You must know what it said.’

‘I did not read it,’ said Eddie, ‘because I was not in here a few minutes ago.’

‘It was you,’ said Tinto. ‘I’d know a scruffbag like you anywhere.’

‘Tinto,’ said Jack, ‘Tinto, this is very important. What did this message say?’

Tinto fluttered his fingers about. ‘As if I would look at the contents of a secret message,’ he said.

‘Secret message?’ said Eddie.

‘That’s what it said,’ said Tinto. ‘Top-secret message for your mismatched eyes only.’

‘What did it say?’ asked Jack.

‘I have customers to serve,’ said Tinto. ‘Posh customers. I have no time to shilly-shally with hobbledehoys like you.’

‘What did it say, Tinto? This is very, very important.’

‘It didn’t say much,’ said Tinto. ‘Just the location, that’s all.’

Eddie threw up his paws and shouted, ‘What location, Tinto?’

‘No need to shout,’ said the barman. ‘Just the location of where the spaceship had landed, that’s all.’