Poppy Pym and the Secret of Smuggler's Cove Page 5

  “What’s ‘the sight’?” Kip asked urgently, looking nervously into Mrs Crockton’s eyes.

  She laughed. “Why, second sight, of course, the ability to see things other people can’t … spirits and whatnot. But I didn’t feel any threat from the ghost, you know. The air went a bit cooler just before he disappeared, but he didn’t try to approach me or anything. There’s no need to be afraid, ducks, not all ghosts are trying to hurt you. Some of them just have unfinished business, you see.”

  “And was it really Henry Redshank?” I asked, gripping the counter.

  “It must have been,” she said, turning to look staight in my eyes. “It makes sense that his spirit would be lurking in this house somewhere, after his brother abandoned him like that. Plenty of unfinished business there, I should think. Now, sorry, my lovelies, but I must get back to work. You run along and find something fun to do, but if you’re ever after a chat or a biscuit you’re welcome here!” She winked at us, and Kip at least looked slightly comforted.

  The three of us left the kitchen, through the dining room and back into the entrance hall in silence.

  “I can’t believe it!” I finally exclaimed.

  “I know!” honked Kip, gripping my arm fiercely. “There could be ghosts everywhere!”

  We all glanced nervously around the room. “So, what do we do next?” Ingrid asked.

  “We need to get a good look around Agatha’s study,” I said, “if that’s where the smuggler’s disappearance is supposed to have taken place.”

  “Do you still want to carry on?” Kip’s eyes widened. “With the investigation, I mean. Now we know there’s a real live ghost … or, rather, real DEAD ghost involved?!”

  I shot him a steely look, even though inside I did feel rather nervous. “We’re detectives, Kip,” I said firmly. “We’re professionals. We follow the clues wherever they lead. Like Dougie Valentine always says, ‘A good detective must go where the evidence takes them… Now out of my way, you evil time-travelling alligator.’”

  Kip swallowed, and then nodded. “OK,” he said bravely, “you’re right.”

  “We may have a problem, though,” Ingrid muttered, looking down at a piece of paper in her hands. She turned it to show me and Kip – it was the map Mr Grant had given out at dinner. “Agatha’s study is strictly off limits to us students.”

  I felt myself deflate. How frustrating! Of course, the place wasn’t off limits to Miss Susan, and I had just been in there! If only I had known to be on the lookout for crucial clues. “We’ll have to find a way in,” I said quietly. “If we can’t find a good excuse to get in there, we’ll have to sneak in when it’s not so busy.”

  We were interrupted then by the looming figure of Horatio Muggins appearing suddenly from the study in question. Kip let out a squawk of fear – the poor boy was obviously still on edge, but I had to admit that Horatio Muggins was a pretty scary-looking man. He smiled at us, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and that showed off a gold tooth, glittering to match his hoop earring.

  “Hello, children,” he rumbled. “I am Horatio Muggins … and you are?”

  “Poppy,” I squeaked, “and Kip and Ingrid,” I said, pointing to my dumbstruck pals.

  “And are you having a good time? Do you like the castle and the campsite?” he asked, much to my surprise.

  “Er, yes, thank you,” I said, cautiously. “It’s really great … although the castle is a bit … spooky.”

  Horatio glanced around, a frown puckering his large forehead. “Yes. I see what you mean,” he said. “It’s all in need of a bit of a makeover.”

  “Well,” I said a bit nervously, “I can’t wait to start exploring.”

  He gave me a thoughtful look. “You should be careful, poking about in a crumbling old castle!” His dark eyes met mine. “We wouldn’t want anyone to have an accident, would we?” With that he turned and stomped into the dining room, the ground practically trembling beneath his feet.

  “Was it just me or did that sound like a threat?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t just you,” Kip said as we made our way outside. “That guy is SCARY.”

  “Speaking of scary…” Ingrid muttered, and I groaned because coming towards us, with her blonde ponytail bouncing and a smug smile on her face, was Annabelle, and trailing in her wake was Barbie.

  “Ugh. What are you losers up to?” Annabelle asked, looking at us as if we were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. Barbie snickered as if Annabelle had just told a completely hilarious joke.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just looking around. Why? What are you doing?”

  “Miss Susan wants to see us,” Annabelle said as she flounced past. “I expect she wants to give me the tour of the place.” She smirked and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “After all, I am something of a VIP.”

  “What’s a VIP?” Barbie asked, gormlessly.

  “A very important person, of course,” Annabelle snapped.

  “Oh.” Barbie’s eyes were shining as she stared worshipfully at Annabelle. “Then yes, you are,” she said. “A VVVIP.”

  Annabelle smiled at Barbie, as if looking at her was an enormous favour. Barbie practically swooned and I shook my head. “Well, we’d better go. Leave you three little kids to your games,” Annabelle said, and with that, she skipped up the steps and disappeared further into the castle for a cosy chat with the woman who was also secretly my mother.

  I felt something twist inside me. Miss Susan and Annabelle always seemed to be pretty chummy. It was one of the things that had made me dislike the chemistry teacher so much in the first place, but now it felt like a real betrayal. How could Miss Susan like Annabelle? Didn’t she care that she was so mean to me? I tried to pay attention to Kip and Ingrid’s conversation, but anger was whistling inside me like a hot kettle coming to the boil.

  We made our way back through the grounds to the campsite. It was getting dark now, and students were drifting down to the roaring firepit to tell ghost stories and toast marshmallows. I felt like I had had enough of ghosts for one day, but I was never one to turn down a marshmallow (and, as you can probably guess, neither was Kip), so we wandered down to join them. The firepit that Agatha had pointed out earlier was going great guns now, and the view out over the sea was pretty spectacular. Fortunately, the Booths had erected a sturdy wire fence along the edge of the cliff. Peeking through the holes, I felt my knees go all wibbly at the sight of the drop down the sheer cliff face.

  Snuggled by the fire, underneath the twinkling stars, I forgot about all the mysteries swirling in my head for a while, happy to listen to ghoulish tales of severed heads and unspeakable curses that destroyed all cakes for ever (can you guess whose horror story that was?!). Eventually, Mr Grant told us it was time to brush our teeth and get into bed, and I for one was very relieved to snuggle down inside my sleeping bag.

  I went over the day in my head. A lot had happened, and it seemed as though the mystery of Henry Redshank’s disappearance was taking a decidedly spooky turn. With a yawn, I turned over the question of getting into the old library in my mind, but my brain was definitely too sleepy for devious plan-making after such a long day. I felt my heavy eyelids closing…

  It seemed like only seconds later that I woke up, confused for a moment by the darkest of darkness that wrapped itself around me before I remembered where I was. Everything was quiet, apart from the distant hooting of a lonely owl. Squirming about in my sleeping bag, the tent felt warm and stuffy so I decided to have a look around outside and get some fresh air. I grabbed my torch before opening the zip at the front of the tent as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb a gently snoring Ingrid.

  Shining my torch on my watch I saw that it was just after midnight. I trained the light on the ground and made my way towards the front of the field where I could hear the sound of the waves lapping against the shore below. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and I turned my torch off so as not to disturb any nature that may be aroun
d. I wondered if I might spot an owl or a fox.

  It was at that particular moment that I spotted instead something so unexpected that it left me frozen to the spot, an icy feeling of dread trickling through my veins. With a gasp I forced my feet to move one in front of the other until I was stumbling back to the tent as fast as my legs would carry me. Sticking my head through the front of the tent I hissed, “Ingrid! Ingrid!”

  “Mmmmm? Bacon and eggs please, Dad…” Ingrid murmured sleepily.

  “I’m not your dad, Ingrid! Get out here NOW.” The urgency in my voice must have woken Ingrid up properly because she sat bolt upright and then squirmed her way out of the tent towards me.

  “What’s the matter?” she whispered, and I could feel her trembling beside me. Without another word I took her arm and guided her gently in the direction I had come from. When we reached the cliff edge I pointed out towards the sea. Ingrid stiffened. “Is that—” she began, but I turned her to face the castle. She gasped.

  Up in the turret window a light was burning. And out on the water a blue light was flashing in response. I felt a wave of excitement crash over me.

  “I can’t believe it,” Ingrid whispered. “Is that … smugglers?”

  “I don’t know!” I hissed, “but that was definitely what was described in the book about how smugglers communicated: a light on the mainland and a light out at sea, I didn’t even think there were smugglers any more.”

  There was a pause. “You don’t think…” Ingrid trailed off in a quavering voice.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well, you know, what Mrs Crockton said … about the ghost.”

  I let out a low whistle. “Ghost smugglers? That would really be something!”

  And then, both lights went out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next day we filled Kip in over breakfast. “Ghost… Smugglers…” he repeated slowly. “As in … the ghost of an evil dead smuggler who is in this castle?” He gestured around the dining hall. Ingrid and I both nodded. “Wow … great. Great. That’s totally…” Kip trailed off.

  “Great?” I suggested.

  “Yup, yup.” Kip nodded. “Ghost smugglers. No big deal, right. I mean we’ve handled worse than that. It’s … great.” His voice was getting higher and higher which led me to believe that he did not find this news “great” at all.

  “We don’t know that it was ghost smugglers,” I pointed out. “It could have just been … real smugglers.”

  “Mmmmm.” Kip agreed, slurping on his orange juice. “Much better. Just illegal smugglers creeping around at night. Great.” Again, I didn’t get the sense that Kip thought this was great news at all.

  “Well, I think if the light was on in the castle we should probably ask the Booths about it,” I said, putting into words a thought that had been rolling around my head all morning. “After all, there may be some sort of simple explanation. And the other light at sea could have been a coincidence – we don’t know for sure that the lights were signalling each other.”

  “Hmm,” Ingrid said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Two unrelated lights both going off at the same time?”

  “Well,” I said, “we should talk to them, even if it’s to rule out the possibility.” That was another rule of detecting; never ignore the most obvious solution – even if it’s a bit boring.

  Agatha and Bernard were also in the dining room, eating toast and talking to Miss Susan. I pushed my chair back and stood up. “No time like the present!” I said cheerfully. The three of us made our way over.

  “Good morning, Poppy,” Miss Susan said, in her cool voice. “Agatha, Bernard – this is Poppy and her friends Kip and Ingrid.” The Booths looked very tired and crumpled and they both gave us slightly forced smiles. “Is there something I can help you with?” Miss Susan asked.

  “Actually,” I said nervously, “we had a question for Mr and Mrs Booth.” Miss Susan’s eyebrows raised slightly at this, but I ploughed on. “I just wondered whose room was up in the turret?” I asked.

  Agatha and Bernard looked surprised. “Why, no one has the room in the turret,” Bernard said, “it’s been boarded up for years. Apparently the stairway is unstable.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Another problem with this old building.”

  “But – but I saw a light in there last night!” I blurted out, and then immediately regretted it.

  Now the Booths looked really surprised.

  “But no one has been up there for years!” cried Agatha. “It’s certainly been boarded up since before we arrived, and Stanley said he’d never seen it open either.”

  “You must have been mistaken, Poppy,” Miss Susan said, looking anxiously at her agitated friends.

  “I’m not!” I exclaimed hotly. “Ingrid saw it too.”

  “Is this true?” Miss Susan turned to Ingrid.

  “Yes, miss.” Ingrid nodded. “Definitely.”

  “Oh, Elaine.” Agatha was twisting her hands now and fidgeting in her seat. “You don’t think one of the students got up there, do you? It’s dangerous!”

  “I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding, darling,” her husband said soothingly. “In fact – why don’t we just go and have a look?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Miss Susan agreed. “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.”

  Agatha and Bernard began leading the way and me, Kip and Ingrid fell in behind Miss Susan. No one told us we couldn’t come along, so we stayed quiet, not drawing attention to ourselves. We began zigzagging our way down a long corridor. I noticed that the further away from the main rooms we got, the shabbier the castle looked. The smell of damp filled the air.

  On our journey we ran into Stanley Goodwill and Horatio Muggins, who were both coming the other way. “What are you lot up to?” Horatio asked, glowering at us from under his brows. Stanley, who was wearing the same crumpled cardigan and baggy trousers as the day before, rocked back and forth on his heels, humming a tune and smiling his vague smile.

  “Oh, nothing, nothing,” Agatha fluttered nervously. “We’re just checking that the turret is boarded up safely.”

  “And why do you need to do that?” said Horatio, his voice a low rumble of thunder. Agatha seemed to choke back a nervous sob.

  “Because it’s a health and safety risk,” Miss Susan said frostily. “Why? Is there some sorrrrrrt of prrrroblem?”

  Even Horatio Muggins was no match for Miss Susan at her high-and-mightiest, when her voice got a bit frilly. “No, no,” he grunted, holding his hands in the air. “We’re off for breakfast, anyway. Come on, Stan.” And with that he pushed past us.

  “Ah, yes.” Stanley’s watery blue eyes focused on us and he smiled again. “Breakfast, eh? Delighted! Delighted!” He tottered off after Horatio. “Oh!” he exclaimed, looking back over his shoulder, “Agatha, I hope you won’t mind if I do some work in your study this afternoon?”

  “No, of course not, Stanley,” Agatha said weakly, summoning a trembly smile. “You know you don’t need to ask.”

  “Dear girl,” I heard Stanley say to Horatio Muggins who made a sort of non-committal grunting sound in response.

  “Come on,” said Bernard with a sigh, drawing our attention back to the matter in hand. “Let’s just get this over with.” We walked further along the corridor taking a left and then a right, Bernard clicking light switches on as we went so that the light bulbs buzzed slowly to life. Rounding another corner, we came to a large doorway. Or it would have been a doorway if you could have seen it underneath all the wooden boards, the DANGER: KEEP OUT signs, the yellow-and-black stripy tape, and the chains and huge old padlock. It was very clear that no one could get in or out of this door even if they wanted to.

  “Here we are – and it’s locked,” said Bernard unnecessarily. “There’s no way anyone was in there last night.”

  I peered closely at the door. It was obvious from the dust coating everything that nothing had been touched for a long time, and there was not so much as one loose boa
rd that could have been prised away.

  “And there’s no other way in?” I asked.

  “No, that’s the only way,” Agatha replied looking relieved. “Well. Thank goodness that’s not one more thing to worry about.”

  “It was just a mistake,” said Miss Susan. “I’m sure Poppy didn’t mean to make you anxious.” She shot me a flinty look.

  “No, but—” I began.

  “Good. Then that’s settled. You and Ingrid must have been confused. Now let’s get back to our breakfasts.” Miss Susan gently nudged Agatha and Bernard ahead of her.

  Kip, Ingrid and I hung back slightly, looking confusedly at the door to the turret.

  “Are you sure no one could get in that way?” Kip asked. “Even picking the lock or using some of your tricks?”

  I shook my head. “Even if they had, it would be obvious because the dust would be disturbed. No – no one’s been near that door in months, maybe years.” Kip and Ingrid both looked as puzzled as I felt.

  “But if that’s true,” Ingrid said slowly, “Then who – or what – lit the lamp up there last night?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As hard as it was to believe, it was beginning to look as though the presence of a ghost was a real possibility – first Mrs Crockton, who had actually seen a ghost, and now the inexplicable light in the turret.

  I wondered what Dougie Valentine might do in this situation and the answer came to me in a flash of brilliance. He would dig deeper of course, gather more information.

  “We need to find out more about the Redshank brothers,” I said to Kip and Ingrid later that afternoon, after we had come back from a big nature walk led by Mr Grant. “And I have an idea how…”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Ingrid said, “but we’re not at Saint Smithen’s; we can’t just nip to the library. The only one here is off limits.” I could tell her voice that she was really pining for the well-organized shelves of the school library.