Dead Hairy Read online

  ‘Who is Klench?’ asked Abbie.

  Coriander shrugged. ‘Dr Hubris Klench is the zoo director. Apart from that I’ve no idea. Never met him before I came here.’

  ‘So why did he kidnap you?’

  ‘To work for him.’

  ‘What work?’

  Coriander winked at the apes. ‘Shall we show her, poppets?’ Vinnie whooped and clapped his hands.

  ‘Go and get my things, would you, love?’ Coriander asked Minnie. The little orang scampered to the back of the cage and pushed open the mirror door. She returned dragging a grey bag behind her.

  ‘Thanks, Min.’ Coriander slung the bag over her shoulder. Vinnie and Winnie grabbed each of her hands. Minnie climbed onto her back. ‘Take the torch from the bag, dear,’ she said to Abbie. ‘You can light the way.’

  ***

  Perdita opened her bedroom door. At last everyone had gone to bed. She crept across to the living-room and phoned Abbie’s cell. Only to be told by a very polite lady that the number she’d dialled was unavailable, please try again later.

  ***

  Mum sat in bed smearing moisturiser on her face. ‘Abbie sounded like she was enjoying herself on the phone,’ she said.

  ‘Wonder if Matt’s got any of these at the museum,’ said Dad. He was thumbing through a book called Wigs and Wildlife: Hair in the Eighteenth Century.

  ‘Mind you,’ said Mum, blobbing white lotion on her nose, ‘I don’t think much of Perdita’s choice in music.’

  ‘Amazing what lived in those wigs,’ said Dad.

  ‘Peeko or something. I’ve never heard of her.’ Mum smoothed the cream round her cheeks.

  ‘Lice, mice …’

  ‘Graham,’ said Mum, ‘are you listening?’

  ‘… even rats.’ Dad looked up. ‘I know, love. It’s enough to make anyone go white.’

  13 - Humming

  Coriander led the way out of the ape house. Vinnie and Winnie bounced by her side, pressing their knuckles on the ground and swinging their legs through. Minnie rode on her back, clinging to her plaits.

  Night had let its hair down. The darkness was broken by starlight and the beam of Abbie’s torch. Chester sat on her shoulder.

  After a few steps Winnie stopped. She tugged Coriander’s hand and pointed at Abbie.

  Coriander smiled. ‘Course you can, Win.’ The orang reached out her hand. Very gently Abbie took it. Winnie’s fingers were cool and dry like Mum’s leather gloves. Abbie felt suddenly full. As if for the first time in ages she belonged – more than that, was a vital part of things. As if she wasn’t holding Winnie’s hand but continuing it. As if her feet were growing from the ground and her breath was feeding the sky. As if the world was a great big dot-to-dot and she was a linking line.

  Which was all very lovely. But joining dots wasn’t going to free Coriander. Abbie looked up to where the charcoal smudge of wall met inky sky. It was far too high to climb over. They’d have to wait till the gates opened tomorrow. Abbie could easily hide and slip out. But Coriander? She’d be chained up in her room by then.

  They stopped at the seal pool. Coriander lifted Minnie off her back and put her on the ground. The baby tumbled between her parents, who’d sat down on the path. Winnie was arranging stones in piles. Vinnie was digging in his ear and flicking its contents at the ground.

  Chester jumped off Abbie’s shoulder and perched on the low wall of the pool to watch.

  To watch what? Abbie peered into the water, black and still.

  Coriander began to hum. It was a soft sound, cool as the ocean and smooth as a squid. For a moment nothing happened. Then two sleek backs ripped the surface and two whiskery heads popped up.

  ‘Hello, Noa,’ said Coriander. ‘How are you, Kaila?’ She reached over and patted their heads. ‘Hawaiian Monk Seals,’ she said to Abbie. ‘Very friendly. That’s why there are only two thousand of them left. They’re so easy to capture.’

  The seals bobbed and coughed while Coriander reached into her bag. She brought out a pair of scissors with long blades. ‘You first, Noa.’

  The seal lifted his head from the water. Coriander leaned over the wall and trimmed his whiskers. ‘There you go, smartiepants,’ she said. Noa clapped his flippers and rolled onto his back.

  ‘How come he lets you do that?’ breathed Abbie.

  ‘It’s a trick I learned when I was diving for curly coral off Hawaii,’ said Coriander. She snipped Kaila’s whiskers and tickled her nose.

  ‘So that’s your job. Cutting the animals’ hair!’

  ‘And other things. General grooming, I suppose you’d call it. Klench must’ve heard about my knack of calming animals. That’s why he brought me here.’

  ‘But why kidnap you? Why not just offer you a job?’

  Coriander shrugged. ‘So he wouldn’t have to pay me, I guess. He’s the meanest man alive. The animals are half starved. And the zookeepers haven’t been paid for months.’

  ‘Why don’t they leave? Or go to the police?’

  Coriander shook her head. ‘Search me. They seem so frightened. It’s as if he’s got some hold over them. Nobody talks to me except Charlie – and he only mumbles the odd word. The whole zoo’s bugged, you see. Klench doesn’t trust anyone.’ Abbie remembered the black box in the tree. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Coriander patted her arm. ‘Charlie told me that Klench turns the microphones off at night to save money. Now,’ she said, dropping the scissors into her bag, ‘let’s go. It’s time to wake Edie up.’

  Abbie would’ve rather let her sleep on. But Coriander insisted on tapping the glass until Edie opened a lazy eye and a very un-lazy mouth.

  ‘Isn’t she a sweetie?’ Coriander undid a lock in the glass. ‘Always smiling.’ She slid the glass sideways. Abbie jumped back. Chester dived down her T-shirt. Minnie hopped off Coriander’s back. She ran to her parents who were cowering sensibly at the door of the reptile house.

  Coriander stepped into the cage. ‘Want to come?’

  Abbie made a sound like ‘Neuthnks.’

  Coriander began to hum: a rough raspy sound. Edie the crocodile wagged – or rather swiped – her tail from side to side and heaved towards Coriander. Her claws rustled over the stone floor.

  Coriander tutted. ‘Poor love. That must be so uncomfortable. Let’s sort you out.’ She crouched by the croc and patted her craggy back. Edie lifted her foot onto Coriander’s lap. Abbie shrieked.

  ‘Shh,’ whispered Coriander, ‘you’ll scare her off.’ Good plan, thought Abbie. But she bit her lip. Coriander was clearly in control.

  She took out a pair of nail clippers from her bag and cut the croc’s claws. And then – Abbie had to blink to make sure – Coriander brought out a little pot. The sort of little pot that perched in rows on Mum’s dressing table.

  ‘Berry blush,’ said Coriander. ‘Perfect for olive skin.'

  ‘Um … why are you putting on nail varnish?’ Abbie tried to sound cool.

  Coriander paused mid-brush. ‘Klench’s orders. He wants the animals to look their best, even though he won’t feed them properly.’ She stroked Edie’s claw and sighed. ‘But how can you have good nails if you’re not getting your vitamins?’

  When all four feet were berry-blushed, Coriander gathered up the claw clippings and put them into her bag. ‘You look like a million dollars,’ she said, kissing Edie’s snout. ‘Probably worth it too. She’s an American Crocodile,’ she explained, stepping through the glass. ‘Very rare. I once rode one across a swamp to get a cutting from a Frizzy Fern. Did you know that Florida’s the only place in the world where you get crocs and alligators together?’

  Abbie made a note to avoid Florida. Chester had clearly done the same. As soon as Coriander had shut the glass, he shot out from Abbie’s T-shirt and plunged into Coriander’s pocket. He brought out the bunch of keys and shoved them into her hand.

  ‘All right, Chess, I’ll lock up,’ she said, laughing. ‘But you can relax. Edie wouldn’t hurt a
fly.’

  It’s not flies we’re worried about, thought Abbie.

  Coriander fumbled with the key. Chester couldn’t wait. He snatched it from her, thrust it into the keyhole and locked the cage.

  Abbie stared.

  Blinked.

  Squeaked.

  Crazy idea. Could they pull it off?

  ‘Course we can!’ cried Coriander when she’d heard the plan. ‘My dear, you’re a genius!’

  Abbie wasn’t so sure. But Coriander grabbed her hands and danced her round in a circle. ‘Course we can,’ she sang. ‘Tremendous plan – I know we can!’ She squeezed Abbie in her cinnamon hug. ‘But first we’ll need some rest. One more job then I’m done.’

  It sounded simple enough. Cleaning Silvio’s teeth.

  Until you saw Silvio.

  He was pacing about his cage. It being night, and he being nocturnal, he looked as if he could murder a good meal. Literally. The flames and coals of his baggy coat shivered as he walked. His great head was bowed. If it wasn’t for all the prowling and growling, he could have been a soft toy with half its stuffing missing.

  ‘No,’ whispered Abbie. ‘You can’t.’ But Coriander was already lifting Minnie off her back. She put her on the ground then reached for her keys. With a whimper and a wee, Minnie jumped onto her mum’s back. Winnie chattered and tugged Abbie’s hand, dragging her backwards down the path. Vinnie ran – or rather shuffled as fast as he could – after them. Chester covered Abbie’s eyes as Coriander unlocked the cage.

  The humming started. A shadowy snarl, raw as flesh and rich as blood. The orangs went quiet. Abbie lifted Chester from her eyes. She stuffed her mouth with fist. Her other hand sweated round the torch.

  And there was Coriander, sitting on a rock with Silvio’s head in her lap. The tiger was gazing ahead, drooling slightly, while Coriander circled a toothbrush round his teeth.

  Abbie knew she’d never forget this moment. Not if all her hair and teeth and marbles fell out. And she knew why Perdita had never given up hope of finding her mum.

  Coriander bent over the tiger. A tear fell onto his head. ‘I’ll miss you, Silvio,’ she murmured. She stroked his ears and stood up. They walked together across the cage. Abbie could feel his purrs in her stomach. When Coriander turned the key in the lock, Silvio pressed his nose against the bars. Coriander wiped a finger across her eyes. Winnie and Vinnie took each of her hands. They returned to the ape house in silence.

  Back in the cage, the orangs settled down for the night. Vinnie threw straw over himself and nestled in a corner. Winnie curled on the floor, her arms round Minnie. Coriander took Abbie’s hand and led her through the mirrored door to her prison cell. It was smaller than Abbie’s bedroom. A table stood against the left-hand wall. On top were arranged brushes, combs, scissors and razors. There were pots and bottles too, of shampoos and conditioners, gels and creams. Abbie guessed they were all for the animals.

  In the back wall of the room was a door. ‘That’s the toilet,’ said Coriander. ‘There’s a bath in there too, for the orangs and me.’ Along the right-hand wall stood a bed. ‘You sleep there,’ Coriander insisted. ‘You need to rest.’ When Abbie protested she waved a hand. ‘I’m too excited to sleep. I’ll go and clean the orangs’ cage.’

  Abbie thanked her and went to sit on the bed. She nearly tripped over a little iron post on the floor. Attached to the post was a metal chain with a ring at the end like a handcuff – or rather a leg cuff.

  Abbie shuddered. ‘Is that what goes round your ankle?’

  ‘What went round my ankle,’ corrected Coriander. She kissed Abbie’s cheek. ‘And what’ll never go round it again, thanks to you.’

  Abbie sat on the bed and desperately hoped she was right.

  ***

  Matt jumped up from his desk. He smacked his cheek. No, it wasn’t a dream. That spider – right there in front of him – was carrying a box of drawing pins on its back! OK it was a small box and only five pins. But still – the spider was no bigger than his thumbnail.

  ‘Well done, lad!’ Matt didn’t know if he was congratulating the spider or himself. A few twiddles here, a few fiddles there, and the potion would be ready!

  He looked at his watch. One o’clock. Better get some sleep. He’d finalise the mixture tomorrow before showing Dirk. Then he’d finish the other potions. And then – Matt jumped up and did a little tap dance – they’d start selling them. And the money would roll … and roll and roll! And somehow Coriander would hear, and she’d come back to help build the museum of her dreams.

  Yes, yes, yes! Matt skipped across the floor, out of Hair Science and all the way upstairs to bed.

  ***

  Mum glared into the darkness. How was she supposed to sleep with this racket going on? Dad was huffing and puffing, snorting and snuffling like a blinking rhino. She rolled over and shook his arm. ‘Stop snoring, Graham,’ she hissed. ‘It’s like a zoo in here.’

  14 - Schnap

  A crocodile was snapping at Abbie. A rather odd-looking crocodile, with fair hair bobbed neatly round its jaws. ‘Have you cleaned your teeth?’ it hissed. ‘Close your mouth when you eat. You’re not wearing those trousers.’

  A tiny orang-utan jumped on its back, pointing at Abbie. ‘It’s her fault!’ it shrieked, baring tiger-like fangs. ‘She took the biscuits.’

  The crocodile crawled towards her, opened its mouth and

  … tickled her nose. Abbie jolted awake. One of Chester’s curls was up her nostril. She removed it gently and stroked him. ‘Morning Chess. You make a great pillow.’

  She lay still, ticking off answers in her head. Where was she? Zoo. Why? Rescue Mission. Who? Coriander. When? Today.

  Clear enough. But what about those other questions, the ones that were clouding her mind like mud in water? Had Fernando lied about Dirk and Melliflua hiding the letter? If so, who had hidden it? And if Fernando hadn’t lied, then why had they hidden it? Had Abbie misjudged them? Did Perdita’s uncle and aunt know about Klench? Were they, like the zookeepers, terrified of him? And by saying nothing, were they just trying to protect Perdita and Matt from Klench’s – well – clench? Most importantly of all, what was for breakfast?

  ‘Nothing I’m afraid, dear,’ said Coriander, when Abbie sat up in bed and asked. Coriander had taken out her plaits and was brushing her hair. It gleamed down her back like beaten copper. ‘One of the zookeepers usually brings fruit at a quarter past eight, after Klench has chained me up. But not today!’ She beamed. A face-filling Perdita beam, minus the piano-key teeth.

  Abbie looked at her watch. Ten past seven. How was she going to survive without breakfast? As if reading her mind, Chester crawled to the foot of the bed. He rummaged in her bag and came out with the packet of Custard Creams.

  ‘Good one,’ said Abbie, grinning. She took two biscuits then offered the packet to Coriander.

  ‘Thanks, dear.’ Coriander was tying her second plait. ‘I want my hair to look its best today.’ When she’d finished her third plait she came over and hugged Abbie. ‘I’ve been praying so long for this,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually going home.’

  You’re not, thought Abbie, not yet. And the next two hours will decide if you do. What she said, though, was, ‘We’d better have a rehearsal.’

  They ended up having four. The first time Winnie kept cuddling Coriander.

  ‘You’ve got to give me space, poppet,’ said Coriander, pushing her gently away. ‘Timing is all.’

  The second time Minnie peed on Chester. The weight of water slowed him down and his whizzing wasn’t what it should be.

  The third time Vinnie grabbed the keys from Coriander’s pocket and used one to pick his nose.

  The fourth time was perfect.

  Abbie looked at her watch. Ten to eight. ‘We’d better get into place,’ she said. She kissed Coriander shyly on the cheek and Chester on the curl. ‘Good luck.’ Chester jumped into Coriander’s pocket. Winnie and Minnie squatted in the front cage, picking out each ot
her’s fleas. Vinnie ambled into the back room and sat by the ankle chain. Coriander sat on the bed. Abbie grabbed her bag and hid behind the bathroom door. They waited in silence.

  At eight o’clock oh-so-sharp came the sound of the entrance door swinging open. Then the sound of whistling. A smart, trim whistle, not a breath out of place. Then a key turning in a lock and – ‘Good mornink my monkeys,’ came Dr Klench’s piercing voice. ‘My primitif primates, my furry foolss. Do you not vish to be human like me, yess? I see you are pickink fleass, you diskustink thinks. Ass Mummy used to say, you cannot teach good breedink. But –’ there was a parrot-like cackle – ‘you can sell it, yess?’

  Abbie peeped round the bathroom door. Dr Klench appeared in the mirror doorway. ‘Greetinks, Mrs C. And how are ve today? I see ve haff ze big buffoon in ze bedroom.’ He wrinkled his nose. Abbie got the feeling that cleanliness was very dear to the heart of this white-jacketed, cream-skinned man, whose lemony hair parted in the middle and whose face was as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

  ‘A girl voss askink for you yesterday.’ He smiled, or rather arranged his lips round his teeth. ‘Perhaps she voss your daughter, yes? But do not fear. Today ve install cameras. Maybe soon she vill join you here in holiday home.’ He cackled again.

  ‘Dr Klench.’ Abbie saw Coriander frown at him in a worried way. ‘There’s something wrong with Vinnie’s foot. He was limping last night. I think he’s got a verruca. You’ll have to get some ointment.’

  ‘Vot? I not vaste my money on silly spot creamss. Let me see.’ Dr Klench tried to bend over towards Vinnie. But bending’s no picnic when your waist is the size of the equator. He reached over and tried to grab Vinnie’s ankle. Vinnie jerked his foot away, so that Dr Klench was pulled forward onto his knees.

  Chester leapt out of Coriander’s overall. Quick as a thought, he was in and out of Klench’s pocket, clutching a key. Coriander grabbed the ankle ring. She clamped it round Dr Klench’s surprisingly small ankle. Chester turned the key in the lock and jumped onto Abbie’s shoulder.