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Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Prologue
PROLOGUEUnlocking EvilThe shop has been in existence for over thirty years, its huge plate glass window a lidless eye gazing out upon an ever changing street. The window has watched a country turn into something quite unrecognisable—quite incomprehensible. Where there had once been chaos, there is now order. Where there had once been civilisation, there is now only brutality. This is a country that has lost its soul in a quest to find a heart. This is a country in the cold, unyielding grip of Nazi doctrine: cruelty in the name of order.This is Vienna, Austria, 1941.Vienna is now an extension of Nazi Germany, since its annexation by the German army in 1938. A climate of oppression is symbolised all around the plaza; the quiet streets, citizens exiled by the evening curfew. Huge flags are draped from the third floor window of the Heldenplatz; bent, black crosses encircled in white, and languishing on a field of blood red.Swastikas.These flags may flap lazily in the chilly Aus
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter One
CHAPTER ONEScream of the SirenThe Elvis bobbed idly on the ocean. The forty-foot fishing boat was owned by skipper Blenheim ‘Cockles’ Cochran. At this moment Cochran paced about his weathered deck, checking lines as he sang along to the beaten-up CD player lashed to the wheelhouse with thick rope.‘You in pain again, skipper?’ a squat, broad-shouldered man with a rosy-red face said, grinning. ‘I can get you somethin’ for it, if you’d like? You need a double dose, I reckon.’‘You’re as funny as chicken pox, Jimbo,’ Cochran replied with a chuckle.‘And you still can’t sing, Skipper,’ First Mate James ‘Jimbo’ Spirehouse said. ‘You’re gonna have to accept that fact some day. Why not do it now and save my sanity?’‘Because the King still sings, you heathen,’ said Cochran, jerking his head towards the speaker as it pumped out ‘Jailhouse Rock’. ‘And you were crazy before you ever set foot on this boat.’ The two men laughed heartily.Half a mile away, the fishing village of Dorsal Fin
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWOLobsters and Liberties‘Ah, Patience! Here is my little Princess of the Nile! How are you this fine morning?’Mr Khaldun Userkaf sipped his coffee, his dark eyes studying his daughter through the mist rising from the brim of his Pharaoh-shaped coffee mug. His sharp, angular features still carried the ghost of his youth and his broad smile was infectious.‘Morning, Poppa,’ Patience said as she tied her long, coal-dark hair into a ponytail. ‘Just a quick status update: I’m fifteen years old, we have no connection to royalty, and the Nile is filthy brown sludge that gives anyone who falls into it raging diarrhoea. You have plans today?’‘Of course,’ her father said, laughing at his daughter’s diatribe. ‘It’s Saturday, and I plan to do nothing!’‘That’ll be the day, Poppa.’Mr Userkaf was renowned for his staunch work ethic. He had been running his travel agency from out of Dorsal Finn for over three decades, and in that time no one in the village could remember him ever
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREEThe Reluctant SecretLucas Walker peddled hard, the surrounding cottages zipping by, the rushing sound of the wind tousling his bleached hair and roaring in his ears. On his back, the bright orange paper-sack was now deflated, empty save for a single copy of the Dorsal Finn Herald.There was a time when the last customer on Lucas’ paper round often left him both nervous and exhilarated. In truth, when Maud Postlethwaite had originally allocated the puzzle-loving Newshound to Mr Miller, Lucas had balked at the idea.‘The guy has weird eyes, Maud,’ he’d protested at the time. ‘It’s like he can see right through me.’‘There ain’t nowt wrong with his eyes, young ’un,’ Maud had replied. ‘’cept they might have seen a little too much, too young, maybe. An’ he can’t be blamed for that, now, can he?’‘I suppose not,’ Lucas had sulked. ‘But the guy’s scary.’‘How he looks isn’t how he is,’ Maud assured him. ‘I wouldn’t be sendin’ ye otherwise, would I?’Lucas had seen enoug
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOURTeenage FBIThe enrolment phase was a swift affair helped by the incredible efficiency demonstrated by the members of The Blue Thunder Foundation. Shrugging off the melancholy air prevalent at the flagpole, the boys and girls—all in their early to mid-teens—were now inside the hut, a huge space painted in blue and white with a stage and lectern at one end. A Blue Thunder pennant secured to the wall spanned the stage, making an imposing backdrop.A series of small tables, numbered one to four, were manned by members of the foundation who made sure that, by the time an enrolee had worked their way to the last table, they were a member of the organisation, equipped with three sets of folded, cellophane-wrapped uniforms and a membership pack. The latter included Marcus’ much lauded Blue Bolt DVD and comic book.‘So what do you think, Beatrice?’ Patience said with a furtive grin.‘About what?’‘Marcus, of course,’ she said, forcing the tone out of her voice in case anyone
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVEHansel & GretelThe room was several square feet, with walls made from red bricks dulled by tangled cobwebs. A mist of fine plaster dust was turned to glittering fire under the beam of Agnes’ torch. But the bright fog didn’t distract them from the bold, red and gothic lettering painted upon the back wall. The text stood out despite the gossamer veneer.In this placeGuilt forges the scriptMaking wayFor the Cryptic CryptA bird in handOwes much to fatePulling open long locked gates‘Come on up here and take a look at this, young Lucas,’ Agnes said next to Dennis. The big man held the flashlight rock-steady so that the lettering on the wall was washed in creamy yellow.Lucas came to stand with them, his face scrunched with fascination.‘Look at that symbol underneath the writing,’ Elmo said quietly. But they had all already seen it; etched upon the old, dusty brickwork, a white eagle, wings frozen in flight, clutching in its talons an iconic symbol of evi
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIXThe TridentAt Dorsal Finn library, the metal box retrieved from the drop pod sat innocuously on the reception counter, subjected to the curious gaze of its six liberators.They had found out quickly that the lock on the box was unconventional: a circle with three holes, two at the top and one at the bottom, creating an inverted triangle.‘I could get an FBH from me van to open it,’ Dennis offered.‘FBH?’ Elmo asked. ‘Sounds major.’‘To you it means Flippin’ Big Hammer,’ Dennis laughed.‘Very major,’ Elmo concluded.‘Now, now, Dennis,’ Maud said. ‘We don’t want to be man-handlin’ the box an’ messin’ with its innards now, do we? Kid gloves are needed if we’re goin’ to make sure nothin’ that ain’t already broken stays that way. ’‘I guess so,’ Dennis said after some thought.Agnes was quiet and distant.‘What are ye thinkin’ Agnes?’ Maud asked.‘I can hear Klaus again,’ Agnes said. ‘He’s so faint but he’s there—that voice of his, strong and wilful. But I can’t und
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVENGuided by VoicesShe found it quite odd, but for some reason Beatrice couldn’t decide what to wear. It was only a walk along the promenade but her focus had become as fogged as kitchen windows beneath a pan of simmering pasta. Anxiety mixed with excitement, clarity clouded by unfamiliarity.It wasn’t long before she’d keyed Patience’s number into her cell phone.‘What were you thinking of wearing?’ Patience said. .Beatrice told her.‘Call the fashion police,’ Patience moaned. ‘We have a crime in progress.’‘Not good, eh?’ Beatrice said. It was apparent she was totally rubbish at such things. No real surprise since most of her short life had been spent on dressing dishes, not herself.‘What you need is something subtle but not understated. It is your first real date after all.’‘It’s my first date ever,’ Beatrice reminded her.‘Then it’s even more important to create the right impression, right?’‘I suppose,’ Beatrice replied.‘You have that summer dress,’ Pat
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Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Epilogue
EPILOGUEThe Vague HorizonBeatrice stared at the ocean, the gulls and a few mottled clouds the only things marring an otherwise azure sky.It was three weeks later and, on the surface, life in Dorsal Finn had returned to some semblance of normalcy. This was not much of a surprise given the town was never that far away from the unusual in the first place.Investigations followed, and allegations were made. Fingers pointed, but those in Dorsal Finn shrugged them off. The Blue Thunder Foundation collapsed and Mayor Codd was absolved given the national scale of duplicity that the organisation had managed to orchestrate.Xavier Pontefract had disappeared on the night that the Nazi army had been brought back to life and reacquainted with death. It was an issue for Beatrice knowing her arch nemesis remained at large, yet she knew that he would neither be caught or resurface for some time. But she had more pressing matters to occupy her time.Once the Blue Thunder Foundation had relinqu
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEENBattle Beneath the EarthThe doors to the school hall clicked open, those guarding the interior moving to one side to allow their comrades access.The captives inside the hall groaned with fear and dismay as they watched twenty children file into the hall and line up facing them.Agnes couldn’t believe when she saw Thomas Beecham among them, and even Edna Duffy was officially lost for words as twenty MP40s trained on the crowd in the middle of the hall.Marcus Macbeth walked into the hall and addressed those cowering before the guns.‘You are the first to bear witness to the New Reich! Weep if you must, kneel to your God, but today is for the young. Today is for the Reich!’Marcus turned to his comrades and lifted his arm. ‘On my command, open fire!’***‘Oh, this is starting to annoy me,’ Patience said sternly to the big man barring their way. ‘Haven’t you people got anything better to do than take over the world and make a general nuisance of yourselves?’T
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEENMarch of the CadetsDennis Hodges woke with a start, his head pounding fiercely.‘Dear Lord, stop yer drummin’ in me noggin',’ he said to the ceiling. A cool breeze whipped across his face, and he relished the moment. Then he heard the rumble of thunder.‘Couldn’t ’ave shut me bedroom window,’ he said, opening an eye. Then he saw the black, nebulous clouds overhead. ‘Couldn’t ’ave made it home, either.’After helping Albert and Maud load the transmitters into the back of the Metro, Dennis had decided to treat himself to a Cinder’s Cider or two. Problem was, when Hodges talked about two, he usually meant jugs. In a way, he felt it was a minor celebration given that the immediate danger had passed with the transmitters now safely in their possession.He risked sitting up, his hands grasping the surface supporting his large frame. He felt wooden slats against his palms; recognising where he was immediately since he often found his way to this place when out on a nig
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER SEVENTEENChamber of HorrorsPatience couldn’t believe what was going on, despite the evidence playing out before her very eyes. Albert’s car was on its side and on fire. Its owner was on his knees, hands clasped behind his head, an unearthly howl playing on his lips and reverberating around the street. But amid the howl was one word that had Patience moving towards him, fast.Maud.‘Albert, what’s the matter?’ Patience crouched beside him.Albert looked up suddenly, his confusion matching that of the olive skinned girl squatting next to him.‘Patience?’ he said. ‘Maud, the car ... ’‘Are you saying Maud’s in the car?’ Patience clarified. ‘The burning car?’Albert nodded, the lump on his head glistening in the lamp light. ‘Seatbelt’s jammed.’Patience looked around and espied the cold chisel. She grabbed it and sped to the car, the heat almost making her hesitate. She fought on. She got to the open door and peered in, thick smoke hampering her vision as she
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEENTime nor TideMaud struggled against her seatbelt.‘Trussed up like a kipper,’ she groaned. ‘Never saw that comin’ when I woke up this mornin’.’‘Don’t worry, Maud,’ Albert said unclipping his belt. ‘I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy.’‘Me hero.’ Maud grinned. ‘Who said men are good fer nowt most of the time?’‘I think that was you, wasn’t it?’‘Ye know somethin’, ye might be spot on.’‘Yes,’ Albert said positioning himself so he could assist Maud’s escape from her confined and indignant position. ‘Good job I ignore such rubbish.’‘Aye, ye’re a good un, no doubt about it,’ Maud conceded, patting him on the arm.‘Don't you be going soft on me now, Maud,’ Albert said working on the seatbelt mechanism which appeared stuck.‘Me? Nah,’ Maud said. ‘It’s this blood rushin’ to me noggin.’‘Well, I’m working on it,’ Albert grimaced as he yanked on the seatbelt clip.‘Hold up, Albert,’ Maud said, her nose wrinkling suddenly. ‘Ye smellin’ that?’Albert sniffed th
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEENThe Last SupperThe Macbeth’s were staying in a rented cottage not far away from Dorsal Finn’s museum. The cottage was compact, yet consisted of many rooms that led away from a hallway made even smaller by wallpaper with deep purple flowers. There were many pictures dotted around the small wooden cupboards and dressers in the hall.Beatrice noticed what she presumed to be images of the many stages of Alice Macbeth, one with raven hair and unblemished skin. Another had an image of a middle aged woman leaning on a cane with a moorland scene in the background.‘Welcome, my dear,’ Macbeth said. ‘It’s good to see you again.’‘Thank you, Ms Macbeth,’ Beatrice said politely despite her nervousness.'Oh, call me Alice! Please go through to the lounge,’ Alice said gesturing with her hand to a door a few metres away. ‘Marcus is just putting together a little supper, seeing as we’ve brought our tea date forward a day or so.’‘There really isn’t any need,’ Beatrice said, not
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEENWolf at the DoorIf Miller’s garden was a tangled hotchpotch of junk, inside the shack was three times worse. There were spindly chairs blocking the narrow hallway, the boys having to navigate around them before finding themselves in a large living space littered with newspapers and magazines. Here and there buckets had been strategically placed to catch rainwater from the creaking, buckled roof. A table in the middle of the room appeared as though it would collapse if so much as a glass of milk were placed on it, and a small camping bed was under the large window, piled high with coarse, crumpled sheets and blankets.To Lucas it felt as though he was in the belly of a pirate’s galleon; one that had been peppered with Royal Navy cannon balls and was a hairsbreadth away from sinking below the waves. The wooden walls were warped and split, deep grooves in the grain giving the unsavoury impression of bloated veins.Over in a corner, lying on a coarse, grey blanket, Wo
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Thirteen
CHAPTER THIRTEENBirthday Surprise!Over the next few days, Beatrice focused on the birthday dinner, in an attempt to distract her from many concerns and anxieties.Those who knew her understood cooking was the only thing that diverted her attention from the real world. As she considered the recipe she was able to diffuse thoughts of Lucas and his hurtful words, the strange behaviour of her parents and Thomas. Even the information Patience had since told her relating to the Cryptic Crypt.A sense of calm descended over her as the recipe—the task—consumed her. The relief that came with it was embraced like a good friend.As the evening of Uncle Badru’s birthday celebration arrived, Beatrice was in complete control—a welcomed state of mind, yet short-lived.***The guy standing at the door to The Blue Thunder HQ was large and square. The scalp of his bald head twinkled in fading sunlight. His brow shimmered with beads of sweat. One of these rivulets trickled down his temple and on
Beatrice Beecham's Cryptic Crypt Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVEThe Cryptic CryptSt. Norman’s Church occupied a space in a small, sedate part of town, not too far away from the library. It was hidden amongst large oak trees and weeping willows, and several dense thickets peppered with bright yellow flowers. The building was made up of a high bell-tower with squared walls and a flat, featureless roof which butted up to a long narrow structure, housing the main hall, giving it the appearance of a clumsy letter “L” that had fallen over on its back.To the left of the horizontal structure was a small cemetery with many headstones, each covered with green moss and lichen, and leaning on the undulating landscape like the misshapen molars of some giant stone ogre. And it was through these tombstones that Patience Userkaf and Elmo hastily made their way, eager to get to the church before the sun shut up shop for the day.‘Why us?’ Patience muttered. ‘That’s all I have to say.’‘If only that was true,’ Elmo said.‘Sorry?’ Patience said
