'Yes, sir?'

'Put the kettle on.'

Polly smiled once more at Inspectre Hovis. First up against the wall, come the revolution, she thought.

3.

O Lucifer, Son of the Morning And Lord of the Bottomless Pit, Roll back your celestial awning Thy thurible is lit.

Hail thee that riseth in the east Behold the sacrificial feast.

Amen.

'Amen to that,' agreed Tuppe, tucking a napkin into his shirt neck and rubbing his knife and fork together.

'Does your adoptive daddy usually dedicate his dinner to the devil?' Anna whispered into the ear of Cornelius Murphy.

'Oh no.' The tall boy gave his bandaged head a careful shake. 'I suspect he's just b.u.t.tering up the Prince of Darkness in the hope of a favour.' 'd.a.m.ned right!' Murphy Senior was seated at the head of the Murphy kitchen table. His lady wife at the foot. Tuppe, Cornelius and the lovely Anna ranged variously between. 'It is my intention to summon forth all manner of banshee, bugaboo and bogybeast.

To raise divers demons, dibbuks, ghouls and gorgons. To conjure pigwidgeons and pandemoniacs from those regions which are forever night. And things of that nature, generally.'

'To any specific end, Mr Murphy?' Tuppe en-quired.

'Indeed yes.' The master of the house raised up his great chest and glared at the ceiling. 'To unleash a great and terrible pestilence upon the head of Arthur Kobold. Bad cess be unto him.'

'Amen to that also,' said Tuppe.

'Shall I be mother then?' Mrs Murphy rose, bran-dishing an electric carver. 'If I'd known the daddy was planning to invoke His Satanic Majesty tonight I'd have got a goat in, rather than this goose. Leg, anyone?'

'Excuse me, Mrs M,' Tuppe cast a wary eye over the hapless fowl which graced the greater part of the dining table, 'but am I right in thinking that this goose is somewhat over-represented in the lower-limb division?'

'You've a lovely way with words, young Tuppe.' Mrs Murphy leaned over and gave the small fellow an affectionate chucky-cheek, nearly putting his eye out with the carving knife. 'I wonder what they mean.

'He's asking why the goose has so many legs,' her husband informed her. 'Bred that way, would be my guess. A chap I once knew used to breed chickens with four legs, so all his family could have one. I said to him, "What do they taste like?" And he said, "I don't know, I've never managed to catch one yet."'

Anna laughed politely.

Mrs Murphy hacked at the avian multi-ped, raising a fine cloud of feathers. 'I knew I should have plucked this before I cooked it. But I was afraid to open the oven door, in case it got loose again.'

'You cooked it alive?' Anna was horrified.

'Of course not, dear. I had the gas on for half an hour first.'

'Ah,' said Cornelius. 'That would explain the smoke-blackening on the walls and ceiling.'

'The firemen were very nice.' Mrs Murphy pa.s.sed legs around. 'They said the house should be con-demned. Your father ran them off with a mattock.'

Tuppe examined the leg on his plate. 'About the goose.'

'It wandered into the back garden this morning. Well, trucked in really. I think it must have escaped from Polgar's Pet Shop last night.'

Tuppe pushed his plate aside. A recent near-fatal encounter with a furry fish was still fresh in his memory. 'Did I tell you I've become a vegan?' he asked.

'Oh,' went Mrs Murphy. 'I didn't know you could become a vegan. I thought you had to be bornthere.'

'That's a Venusian,' said her husband. 'As in Venusian blind?'

'I expect so.' Jack Murphy shrugged.

'Well, that's very nice, Tuppe. I'm glad you've got yourself a proper job. Do you commute between the planets, or are you in the office?'

'In the office,' said Tuppe. 'By the radiator.'

'That's nice. More goose, did you say?'

'No thanks, but I'll have some of those sprouts, please.'

'Help yourself You'll have to use your fingers, I'm afraid. My friend Mrs Cohen is having her son circ.u.mcised, so I've lent her my serving spoons.'

'For the do afterwards,' Jack Murphy explained to the open-mouthed Tuppe.

'It's very kind of you to invite Tuppe and me to share your dinner,' said Anna, raising her hand against another helping of goose. 'I'll just stick to this broccoli, if you don't mind. I'm on a diet.'

'I was on a diet once.' Mrs Murphy loaded up her husband's plate. 'You had to eat nothing but soft furnishings. It was called the G Plan, I think.'

Cornelius forked up some spinach. 'Your cheque bounced also then?' he asked the daddy.

Murphy Senior nodded gloomily and speared an asparagus tip with his fork. 'It's not the principle of the thing that troubles me, it's the money! I was actually planning to pay Mike the mechanic for the car I gave you.

'The Cadillac Eldorado.' Cornelius chased peas around his plate. 'About that...'

'It got dumped on,' said Tuppe. 'From a great height. Would someone pa.s.s the pet.i.ts pois, please?'

'Dumped on?' Jack Murphy fell back in dismay. 'You lost the Cadillac?'

'In as many words, yes.' Cornelius nodded sadly.

'Kobold?'

'In as few words, yes again.'

'That does it! Roll back the limo, Mother, we're raising Behemoth tonight.'

'Not until everyone's finished eating, dear. Have some more courgettes, Anna. Try the yellow ones.

I know they look like Chinamen's w.i.l.l.i.e.s, but they taste delicious.'

'Thanks,' said Anna. 'These aubergines are ex-cellent, by the way.'

'The beautiful Cadillac.' Jack Murphy sighed. 'Arthur Kobold must pay for his transgressions.'

'He will.' Cornelius munched upon a parsnip. 'He can run, but he can't hide.'

'Can't he?' The daddy helped himself to more cauliflower.

'He cannot.' Cornelius forked up some greens. 'I have the plans for the reinvented ocarina. I intend to free Rune and bring Kobold and his cronies to justice.'

'And grab the booty,' Tuppe put in. 'Pa.s.s the pimentos.'

'Good lads.' Murphy Senior gave his adopted son a hearty shoulder-pat. 'This news cheers me up no end. Now, if there is anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to ask.'

'Is that anything, as in anything?' Cornelius didn't hesitate to ask. 'Anything.'

'Then I need an ice-cream van please. And I need it by midnight.'

The daddy's eyelids didn't even flicker. 'Naturally,' said he, finishing up the last of his green peppers. 'I shall see to it that you have one. More carrots?'

'No thanks, I'm fine on carrots.' Cornelius smiled broadly. 'But you might pa.s.s the crambe repit.i.ta.'

'About the ice-cream van?' Anna asked. She, Corne-lius and Tuppe were now ensconced in the daddy's garden shed. The meal had reached a successful conclusion, with three puddings, a cheese tray, brandy and Turkish cigarettes. Unaware that her husband's cheque was going to bounce, Mrs Murphy had cast aside her normal ecological convictions and spent lavishly at Safeway. 'I don't think I could manage any ice-cream. I'm full.''It's the van I want. Not the ice-cream,' Cornelius told her. 'The van has a public-address system on the top. For playing music. And if we pull out all the interior fixtures and fittings, then there'll be plenty of room.

'For what?'

'For the booty.' Tuppine rubbed his tiny hands together. 'We've got Rune's A-Z, with all the entrances to the Forbidden Zones marked in it. We drive up in the van. Play the magic music through the speaker system. A portal opens. We roar in, grab whatever we can, then make our getaway. A sort of inter-dimensional ram raid.'

'Mrs Murphy was right, Tuppe. You do have a lovely way with words.' Anna turned to Cornelius 'She's an interesting woman, your mum. Did she really play ba.s.s for Jeff Beck on "Hi Ho Silver Lining"?'

'She told you that?' Cornelius had the ocarina in the vice on the daddy's workbench and was worrying at it with the electric drill. The drill still lacked a plug but as there were no power sockets in the shed, this didn't create too much of a problem (eh?).

'She also said she was the fourth Beverly Sister.'

'She told me she was one of the Five Tops.' Tuppe rooted about amongst the interesting things beneath the workbench. 'Why is there always a half-empty bag of solid cement in every shed?' he enquired.

'It's a tradition,' Cornelius told him, 'or an old charter, or something.'. He undid the vice, took up the ocarina and blew drill dust from it. 'All done, I think.'

Anna leaned over to take a look. 'And you really truly believe that when you play this thing these secret portals will open?'

Cornelius checked his handiwork against the route map. 'They'll open.'

'They will,' Tuppe agreed. 'Trust Cornelius, he knows what he's doing.'

'Thank you, Tuppe.'

'Don't mention it, Cornelius. But harken, harken. What is that I hear?' Tuppe cupped a diminutive palm to an ear of a likewise confection.

'It's "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles".'

And indeed it was. It issued from the speaker system of a smart new ice-cream van. A smart new ice-cream van which was even now drawing up outside twenty-three Moby d.i.c.k Terrace. Home of the family Murphy. And stepping down from the cab was none other than the father of the house.

'Fortune's always hiding,' he sang.

And he smiled as he sang it.

The taxi went west towards approaching midnight. The unmarked police car followed it at a respectable distance. The taxi took the slip-road from the fly-over and cruised down to the Chiswick Roundabout. The unmarked police car followed it. The taxi turned left on to the Kew Road, went through green lights at Kew Bridge and rolled on towards Brentford.

And the unmarked police car followed it.

The taxi-driver, one Terence Arthur Mulligan, checked his driving mirror. Same unmarked police car. Same upper-cla.s.s git at the wheel. Was this police hara.s.sment? No, not yet. The unspeak-able inspectre was probably just checking to make sure he'd given the correct home address. Well, he wouldn't be disappointed. Terence was homeward bound.

Because, after all, he hadn't committed any crime, had he? OK, he had a bit of previous. OK, he had a lot of previous. But he was innocent of all charges here. He'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Seen a weird train, picked up some diamonds. Got nicked. He'd told all this to Hovis and Hays had released him. So now he was going to go home and get his head down.

And get his socks off, of course. Because his feet were fair giving him gip. What with all those diamonds he'd stuffed into his socks, once his pockets were full. Terence was genuinely grateful that the boys in blue had failed to search his socks.

Terence indicated correctly and turned into the back doubles of Brentford, careful not to lose his follower. He didn't want any trouble. He was a free man. The way he saw it, he had told the police the truth. He just hadn't told them all of the truth.For instance, he hadn't told them that he had actually been in the right place at the right time. Nor that he had actually been acting under orders to clear up all traces, after the Train of Trismegistus pa.s.sed through on its dreadful mission. Nor, that he, Terence Arthur Mulligan, was actually a member of b.o.l.l.o.c.kS, the Black Order. London's Legion Of Cab Knights. A top-secret organization, sworn to serve the hidden masters of the Forbidden Zones. Nor that it was now his duty to return those diamonds currently in his possession, and those in the hands of Inspectre Hovis, to these very hidden masters.

Actually, the more Terence thought about it, he hadn't told the police the truth at all. But then there are some things you tell to policemen, and some you don't.

Terence turned into Moby d.i.c.k Terrace and was nearly driven right off the road by an approaching ice-cream van.

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!' Terence swerved aside and b.u.mped on to the pavement. He slammed on the brakes and drew to a halt right outside his own front door. Number twenty-seven.

'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Bruv!' Terence gripped the steering wheel and uttered a number of profanities. All ended with a reference to a certain 'Bruv'.

There was good reason for this, as it happened. Because the smart new ice-cream van, the smart new stolen ice-cream van, which was now vanishing into the night, belonged to none other than Terence's brother. One Reginald Bohemian Rhapsody Mul-ligan.

Coincidence? Synchronicity? The chromium-plated megaphone of destiny? Who knows? And frankly, who cares? Just as long as it meant that something really exciting was about to occur.

And it was. Oh yes indeed, it really truly was.

4.

Hi Ho Silver Lining and away they went.

Mulligan's Ices. .h.i.t the open road. Cornelius was at the wheel. Anna and Tuppe were gutting the van and chucking all the bits and bobs out through the serving window.

Now, it could well be argued that this might better have been done back at the Murphy residence.

Possibly so, but it wouldn't have been nearly so much fun. Nor would it have offered the opportunity for that extra bit of plot-complication which makes it all worthwhile.