The Most Frightening Story Ever Told by Philip Kerr Read Free Book Online Page B

grunted. If there was one thing he disliked more than books and surprises, it was boys. Girls were bad enough, but boys did things he didn’t like at all. They ran around in the street and played with balls, and shouted at each other, and didn’t stand up straight; they laughed at stupid jokes and they kept their hands in their pockets, and they ate potato chips in shops, and they didn’t blow their noses, and they mumbled when they were spoken to. But above all Crane hated boys because they disliked washing their hair. No boy likes washing his hair any more than he likes it being washed by his mother, and any boy worth his salt will usually find ways to avoid having his hair washed more than once a month. If at all. As a man who had made millions of dollars selling shampoo, Crane regarded any boy as nothing less than an alien species of life because boys dislike washing their hair.
    “What can I do for you, Mr. Crane?” asked Mr. Rapscallion. “How about a book? This book, for instance.
The Lair of the White Worm,
by Bram Stoker. You might enjoy that.”
    “I’m not interested in worms,” said Crane. “Of any color. Unless they’re bookworms, of course. The quicker all these silly books are consumed by worms the better, in my opinion. It’s a hard world we live in, Mr. Rapscallion. And books have no place in it.”
    Mr. Rapscallion nodded patiently. He’d heard all of this before.
    “Besides,” added Crane, “you know what you can do
for me,
Mr. Rapscallion. You can accept my very generous offer for this shop.” He opened the envelope of cash and, bringing the wad of money up to Mr. Rapscallion’s nose, proceeded to riffle the ends of the banknotes like someone about to deal from a pack of playing cards. “Do you smell that, Mr. Rapscallion? Do you smell that? It’s hard cash, sir. Money. A generous cash offer considering the amount of money you already owe me.”
    “And please don’t mention what that is,” said Mr. Rapscallion.
    “An offer that’s more than enough for you to put an end to this madness and retire from business, sir. Frankly, sir, you are not cut out for business. Not cut out for it at all. Which is why this place is on its knees, sir.”
    “As you say, it’s a very generous offer, Mr. Crane,” said Mr. Rapscallion. “But this place is my living. It’s my life. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t come here every day.”
    “Me neither,” mumbled Billy.
    “What’s that you say, boy?” demanded Crane. “Stop mumbling. I can’t tolerate a boy who mumbles.”
    “I said, me neither,” said Billy.
    “Me neither, what?”
    “I mean I wouldn’t know what to do with myself either,” said Billy. “If I didn’t come here every day.”
    “Of course you wouldn’t,” Crane said crossly. “You wouldn’t know because you have no common sense. Because you’re a dreamer, boy. All boys are silly dreamers. I can’t tolerate a dreamer. Give me a man who has common sense. And I’ll show you a man with a job, a mortgage, a car and a future. In short, I’ll show you a man I can own.”
    “The answer is still no,” said Mr. Rapscallion. “No, no, no.”
    “Then you’re a fool, sir,” said Crane. “You’re a fool. All the same, I won’t give up, sir. I won’t give up. I’ll be back. And one day you’ll take my offer, sir. I can guarantee it. You’ll have to accept my offer if only to repay the money you already owe me. You know it. And I know it. I always get what I want in business. Always. Not for nothing am I called Crane the Pain. One day this place will be mine, do you hear? Mine. MINE!”
    Like any other tycoon, Hugh Crane was very fond of the sound of his voice. And listening to his own opinions had made him forget where he was. He started to walk around Monsters and Mad Scientists, oblivious to the possibility that a stray footstep might activate a hidden spring, or electronic sensor, and set something very monstrous in motion. And this is