Wild Boy and the Black Terror by Rob Lloyd Jones Read Free Book Online

black slugs. They parted very slightly, whispering a single word to the rhythm of his rocking.
    “Malphas … Malphas … Malphas …”
    The Queen spoke again. “Prendergast has served the Royal Family for over ten years. He has two young sons. His wife passed away during the delivery of the second. He is a kind, innocent man.”
    “He’s got some sort of disease,” Clarissa said.
    “No, no disease,” the Queen replied. “We spoke with Prendergast yesterday morning, moments before he opened that package. He was perfectly well. The package was the first and only piece of correspondence that he opened. He read its card and got rid of the packaging. Then he was like this.”
    Wild Boy brought the card from his pocket.
Malphas
.
    Marcus spoke. His voice, usually so calm, seemed suddenly flustered, broken by small swallows. “Whoever stole the Queen’s black diamond and sent that package somehow did this to Prendergast. However, we suspect that Her Majesty was the intended target.”
    “Wild Boy and Clarissa,” the Queen said, “we wish you to consider all that you have heard and seen, and search for clues that might identify the person behind this most heinous of crimes.”
    Instinct urged Wild Boy to turn and run. Whatever was going on, he sensed that he and Clarissa should have no part in it. But he gathered his nerve and stepped closer, listening to that name repeated over and over from Prendergast’s lips.
    “Malphas … Malphas … Malphas…”
    Prendergast’s mouth opened wider, and he whispered two more words.
    “He’s coming.”

6
    “ Y ou really think someone wants to kill the Queen?”
    Clarissa tossed a wet boot over the top of the dressing screen. It landed with a thump that rattled the mirror panels on the walls. “Imagine if we stopped that. We’d be famous.”
    “We already
are
famous,” Wild Boy said.
    “Yeah, but people would
like
us. Maybe we could stop hiding from everyone.” She threw the other boot over the screen. “I bet the Queen would even invite us to her swanky ball on Thursday.”
    They were in the Royal Dressing Chamber, where maids and footmen had once clothed kings and queens. The room was entirely walled with mirrors, and ceilinged with them too. Some of the panels were rashy with blotches, or spiderweb-shattered where moody monarchs had hurled boots against the glass. Marcus had suggested this as an appropriate place for Clarissa to dress for Lady Bentick’s dinner. Wild Boy didn’t know if that was because it had once been so grand or that it was now so grubby.
    “I ain’t said I’m going to this dinner tonight,” Clarissa muttered. “Just trying the dress on, is all. Probably look stupid.”
    “No change there,” Wild Boy replied.
    Clarissa cursed him and waited for his reply – they regularly exchanged affectionate abuse. But Wild Boy just stared at the Queen’s card, running a hairy fingertip over the word in black ink.
Malphas
.
    He should have been excited. If they solved this case, they would have something even stronger than Marcus’s support; they’d have royal approval. They definitely wouldn’t need to worry about being thrown out of the palace anymore.
    But with what he’d just seen, Wild Boy didn’t exactly feel like celebrating. He sat up on the window ledge, watching one of the Grey Hats lead the Queen’s servant, Prendergast, across the courtyard. In the lamp’s harsh glare, Prendergast’s face appeared even whiter, his veins even blacker, like a living corpse. He kept twitching, shaking. His eyes shot around him as if he was surrounded by invisible, swooping demons.
    “Who would do that to someone?” Wild Boy wondered.
    “That is the question.”
    Marcus limped into the Dressing Chamber. He wore an impeccable evening suit, and his silver hair was slicked with pomade. But the lines on his face had grown deeper, as if he’d aged a decade that day.
    “Any news from the docs?” Clarissa asked. The physicians among the Gentlemen had