Mr Holmes and Dot have heard someone going up towards the attic floor – just before the ghostly happenings start again. But then there’s a power cut and the ghost rider disappears! So now the house is in total darkness – which isn’t going to stop Mr Holmes investigating for one second…
“Your pet mouse?” said Mr Holmes, looking down at Dot in a puzzled way. “How can he help us, my dear Dorothea?” He struck a match to light a candle on the table next to them in the upstairs reading room – the electricity generator at the Hall obviously still wasn’t working.
“Errr…” she went.
It was a tough question for Dot to answer. How could she explain that she had a mouse she could send into places where they couldn’t go on the spooky attic floor above, and report back?
Because wherever the projector was that was doing the ghostly ghoulies, it wasn’t going to be easy to find. There had been no trace of anywhere it could even be the night she’d been up there before. Mr Mouse could be the key to unlocking the whole affair! (Always provided he didn’t go off on one and refuse to help of course!)
WHAT could she say to explain?
They were all on the net, of course, where anything can happen, but this bit of the cyber-world seemed to be like real life – and the people in it thought the same way, like real people would. So if she told the truth, she might have to tell Mr Holmes the whole story of how she came to be at Dendringham Hall – and that was just too big a risk to take. She didn’t want to leave till she’d got to the bottom of the mystery.
Especially as she was the great detective’s first girl assistant!
Now, the Zildiths * would have had no problem with a talking mouse. What could she say…?
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a book on the table. It was called ‘The Four-Leafed Clover – A Traveller’s Lucky Escapes in the island of Ireland’.
Four-leafed clovers… they were meant to be lucky… that was it!
“He’s… he’s my good luck charm… when… when I’m going somewhere a bit scary” she said.
It was a fib, but it seemed to work. Mr Holmes smiled down kindly at her, which made her feel a bit guilty.
“Very well!” he said. “Let us collect our rodent friend!”
Actually, when they were climbing up the stairs into the attic, Dot was quite glad to have Mr Mouse with her. It felt spookier than ever now – the wind had got up and was howling round the house, rattling the window panes and sighing under the doors.
Also, the electricity still wasn’t back on and they’d had to go up the stairs to her landing and walk along to the creaky old door to the attic steps all in the dark.
Mr Mouse had been kind of crabby when she woke him up – there were traces of Stilton cheese on his waistcoat, where had he got that from! – and he’d obviously been dreaming bad dreams, because he woke up with a start going “Cat On The Prowl!”
But luckily he hadn’t been difficult about helping out – seemed quite keen on it!
As soon as they got to the top of the stairs in the attic, Mr Holmes turned to Dot and said “Now, Dorothea – tell me exactly what you found when you were here last.” He held up the candle he’d brought with him so that he could see her face.
So Dot did – and as she started, she felt Mr Mouse scamper down her arm to start his second investigation of the attic floor.
“So then the light went out” Dot went on “and I felt this hand on mine, like I said. Then - ” she stopped as she felt Mr Mouse scamper back up to his hidey hole under the shoulder of her dress.
“Go to the middle of the passageway and push the picture on the wall” he whispered.
“Then?” said Mr Holmes.
“Well then - ” said Dot, going on. She was trying to think and talk at the same time. How could she get Mr Holmes to move nearer to the picture? She could see it now, dimly, in the far corner of the flickering light thrown by the candle. She stopped.
“The picture!” whispered Mr Mouse again.
“Are you quite well my dear?” asked Mr Holmes, looking concerned.
“Sneeze and tell him you need to move along a bit because it’s dusty!” hissed Mr Mouse.
It was worth a try. “A-TISHOOO!” went Dot. “Can we move away from here please? It’s so dusty!”
Without waiting for a reply, she walked along the passageway till she was right next to the picture.
Mr Holmes’ candle threw a flickering shadow on it. It was rather a gloomy painting, quite small, of an old lady in Elizabethan dress, glaring out at Dot as if she’d just burped.
Dot I mean… not the lady… oh, you got that. Sorry!
“What an interesting personage!” said Mr Holmes. “I wonder who that was?”
He leaned forward and brushed a cobweb away from the angry old face – and the panel it was hanging on swung open without a sound!
* See Dot and the Zildiths of Phargon.
