Bill Biggs
(Alex Clark)
6th May 1924
As you sit down for breakfast you see the newspapers are full of stories of the meteorite shower that reached all over the United Kingdom. A number of people had a few rocks crash-land in their gardens or through their houses, and the shower itself played havoc with the radio, causing interference that all but obliterated the BBC’s evening broadcast from Alexander Palace. You missed last night’s storm because you were playing with your dentist equipment, but reading the newspaper you see the meteor shower is due to continue. Turning the next page you see an article about Carter the Great being back in town after a stint in America. He was a magician of some skill by all accounts but a bit of a showman and known for being keen on excess publicly. Last year he spent six whole hours suspended above the Thames in a wicker basket with little more than a chamber pot and a dry Martini. It was done to provide a spiritual focus for all mankind, according to him. You thought he was an idiot then but when you read his story a few days ago that he had planned to stop the comet from hitting the earth with the power of positive thought you had upgraded him to a total loon.
The story on the next page catches your eye: it’s about a vicious murder at the British Museum. It looks like a burglary went wrong, with the night watchman interrupting the killers and paying for it with his life in a brutal way. All the burglars got away with was an artefact that could only be worth a few hundred pounds and only to a collector. A chill goes through you at the thought of how low some people could go for a little money.
“Well, this is bit of a damp squib!” you say. Winston Donahue nods his agreement and stares back at the sky. Your old friend Elizabeth Mayland had invited Winston and yourself to her house to watch the light show, but all you can see at the moment is a bank of rolling clouds with flashes of light behind them.
“At least the glowing means the meteors are burning up in the atmosphere,” Elizabeth says. She doesn’t sound completely convinced.
“It only needs one to get through in one piece,” Winston remarks has he fiddles with his lucky flight goggles. Not the height of fashion in London but he always had them with him. He knocks back a whisky. “There’s an awful lot of them travelling through the sky…”
You and Elizabeth give the sky a nervous glance. Lizzie seems to fight the urge to run and settles instead for a steady walk to the house to refill her Pims. It would’ve been nice if she asked you if you needed a top up-
The noise is the first thing that warns you; a high pitched hissing whine that sets your hair on end. Brickwork explodes next to you in a cloud of dust; a shockwave hurls you off your feet, sudden heat dries your eyes and scorches your throat. Then with an abrupt deafening whump, the chaos ends. Cascading brickwork is the only noise in the air. Slowly, gingerly, you shake to stars from your eyes, then realise you cannot see because you are buried in a pile of earth. You hear voices calling and you sit up, shaking the dirt clear. You look round blearily. Most of the end part of the kitchen is gone, a hole blasted through the house into the garden. Elizabeth stands weakly in the ruined doorway, coughing against the haze in the air. Winston climbs out of a rose bush, his movements unsure, shaking the thorns from his clothing. “You in one piece?” he asks.
“I have really got a headache now…” you say. “What the hell happened?”
You examine the scene. You and Winston were thrown either side of a furrow that had been dug from house to the end of the garden, getting deeper with every foot travelled. The earth is baked hard, cooked like clay in an oven. And then you see it: there at the end of the ditch is a rock, the size of your fist, covered in cracks that glow bright green.
“Okay,” you mutter to the sky. “I take the ‘damp squib’ thing back.”
7th May
After spending most of the morning helping Elizabeth make arrangements for the house to be repaired and the garden to be re-landscaped, you turn your attention to the rock. It sat there, still in the wooden box where you placed it in last night. You had wondered if the feeling in your hand would ever come back. When you touched it you received a sharp wave of intense cold which numbed you senseless. It took an hour for any sensation to return.
You stare at the rock: was it dangerous at all? According to Elizabeth, the only person who could possible know the answer was her cousin Professor Richard Harker. She drives to The Astronomical Society to find out. You and Winston join her: he because he had nothing better to do; you, to find out if by touching the rock your legs were going to drop off or something.
You pull up outside the building. You have never been to The Astronomical Society before but you somehow expected something a little more impressive than an office in a block of other businesses. The three of you climb the stairs to the top, each floor you pass becomes more and more a graveyard of fail business ventures until the top floor has only The Society and nothing else. You knock and enter. Harker’s assistant Shannon sits behind a desk. He looks up, recognises Elizabeth, and waves you through to Harker’s office with a smile. You enter to find the place in disarray, filled in every gap with rolls of maps and star charts. A man you assume to be Harker comes walking swiftly out of a store room, his arms full of stuff. He drops everything when he sees the three of you.
“Lizzie? Good lord, Lizzie old girl, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in months! And who are these gentlemen? Is everything all right?”
“Things are fine,” says Elizabeth “These are my good friends Bill Biggs and Winston Donahue. You look – busy.”
“Very busy. I’m getting ready to leave for Wales in the morning. It sounds like a large piece landed in some place called Llangadfan. According to the locals the noise was like that of a bomb going off; the whole place lit up with the impact! Plus it set alight to most of the forest which I think they’ve got under control now. It could be a major discovery, Lizzie!”
“I’m glad for you. Do you want to see another for your collection?” She hands him the box. Brow furrowing, he quickly opens it. His gasp speaks volumes. “It fell last night, nearly killing us and nearly demolishing the house and the garden. As it is the birdbath will never stand straight again.”
Richard’s eyes are locked on the rock. “It’s beautiful! That glowing it’s doing there-”
“Don’t touch it!” you warn. “It freezes your hand solid!”
Harker snatches his fingers away from the box. “Freezes? That’s… unusual.”
“Is it safe?”
“Oh. Yes. Sure.” He puts the lid back on. “Probably.”
Winston raises an eyebrow at him “Probably?”
“Nobody got any hair falling out or anything odd like that? Good. Like I said, it’s safe then. It’s quite remarkable! I only wished I had more time to look at it.” Richard hands the box back to Elizabeth.
“You don’t want it?”
“Of course I do, but I’ve got larger fish to dynamite at the moment and not much time to do so. You keep hold of it for now for safe keeping, wait until I get back.”
“How long are you going?”
“Just a week, I’ll phone you when I return. I tell you, Lizzie; with your rock and the larger one, hopefully, plus any I get via the advert I’m going to put in the newspaper, this could be the making of my career.” Harker picks up the things he dropped and throws them haphazardly into a cardboard box. “Everything seems to be working well at the moment.” He face falls. “The only bit of bad news is that Carter fellow: he came to visit me today to ask all about the meteorites. I gave him a bit of a brush off and told him to come back tomorrow. He really is a self publicity-seeking pain! What with everything that happened I think the whole world is going mad about comets!”
You wait patiently as Elizabeth spends a few more minutes catching up with family news but even you can tell Richard is dying to get packed. The three of you leave him to his work and go and find a pub.
17th May
You hear from Elizabeth. She is beginning to worry about Richard. A week has passed since he went to Wales and still there was no word from him. Had he found something of importance and decided to stay on longer? If that was true Harker would have sent word to someone. It seemed out of character. She had tried phoning his assistant but got no answer. She did receive a call from Doctor Ogilvie, an old friend of Richard’s who works at the Greenwich Observatory and someone she has met a couple of times. He is equally as concerned about Harker and feels equally as useless.
19th May
You receive another phone call from Elizabeth early in the morning. Last night she got a call from a distressed-sounding Ogilvie. He went to The Astronomical Society figuring Richard must have sent word there, if even to let his assistant know that he would be away for longer. He found Shannon murdered, horribly mutilated. He also found a screwed up bit of paper which turned out to be a telegram from Harker, dated the 11th. Judging by the number of fingerprints over it Ogilvie reckoned other people had read it – like the murderers. He turned over the information to the police and pressed on them the danger to Richard, and they have promised to contact the local bobbie down in Llangadfan to go and check on the professor.
You had planned to go away for a few days to a dentist’s retreat but instead decide to hang around in London. By the sound of things Elizabeth could do with a friend nearby. As you are driving around you notice a black car following you. At first you think it is coincidence, but you take a few turns that make a complete circle yet the car is still there. You dive down a few alleys, fear beginning to rise as you wonder about who they are. Could they be behind Harker’s silence? You shake your head. No, you’re over reacting. You look back. The black car is nowhere to be seen. Part of you breathes a sigh of relief and puts it down to coincidence, but the sliver of fear remains.
21st May
You meet in the evening with Elizabeth and Winton at the Mayship Club for a meal and light conversation, but all talk is about a trip to Wales: Elizabeth has decided to go to find Harker for herself. You ask why and she tells of the sudden disinterest of the police in finding him despite the fact that his assistant had been brutally killed and he had seemingly vanished. With no one doing anything it looked like it was up to her to do something.
Knowing it was useless trying to change her mind once it was set, you near insist on coming with her as does Winston. She grudgingly agrees, and after the meal you head back to your house to pack. The streets are beginning to become shrouded in fog, the mist turning sounds dull, and you cannot help but start at the shadows.
Upon opening the door you can tell something is not right. Being careful, you turn on all the lights and start for the phone when a weight drives you into the wall, ramming your forehead into the plaster in an explosion of coloured flashes. You drive your head back into your attacker’s face and race backwards into the other wall. The arms around you go limp as the body collides into the wall with a grunt and you rip yourself free to confront the figure. A man in black robes gets to his feet, his face covered with a mask.
“Heathen!” he hisses in anger. “You do not deserve the mercy of death!”
With you movements a blur, you pull out from your wallet of dentist tools your sharpest molar scraper. You hold it like a very small club. “You want a piece of me?!” you scream.
The hood looks at you, your scraper, then back to you. Then he runs out of the door.
“Never mess with a dentist’s assistant!” you yell after him. Hugely relieved though slightly confused, you watch the figure disappear into the streets. What on earth was that about? You go to phone the police again a hammer-like blow smashes into the centre of your back, driving the breath from your body and you to your knees. You start to fight back but a dagger is instantly put to your throat. You freeze.
Footsteps, slow and steady, come from the kitchen. Their owner, dressed in identical black robes, paces before you, stopping in the doorway. From within the black folds he slowly pulls out from a long, evil-looking blade.
“What do you want?” you gasp.
The shadow within the hood shifts. “The unholy must be cleansed from this world-”
The dagger at your throat moves. Then there is pain quickly followed by darkness.
You hear your name being called from a great distance. Every time it’s said it becomes louder and clearer. Then in a rush the world comes into perfect clarity. You are lying on the floor; Elizabeth is knelt by your side, as is Winston, both looking worried. You say hello in a slurred voice and sit up, touching the bump on the back of your head with a wince. You look about, not really knowing what to expect, but see no black robes. You do see a pool of blood is in the kitchen. Elizabeth and Winston ask what happened and you tell them all you can. Then you ask why they are there. They reveal their homes have been broken into, and when they tried phoning you and got no answer they feared the worse and rushed over. Whoever the robed figures were, they had been busy.
As you gather your senses Winston calls the police and explains everything, telling of the burglaries, the attack, the blood, the knife, and the attempted murder. But again they almost appear uninterested, and all they can say is: “We’ll look into it”. Disgusted by their attitude, he give up. Elizabeth decides staying together until morning might be a safer option, and after picking up your suitcase the three of you head back to her home through the thickening fog.
You are only minutes from Elizabeth’s house when you decide to speak. “I still say we should’ve insisted on seeing the chief constable!”
She glances in her rear view mirror at you. “It wouldn’t have done any good.”
“Why?”
Winston looks back. “Because I did insist!” The car starts crossing Tower Bridge and you absently note the fog creeping along the surface of the water. “They simply didn’t want to know.”
“Just what is going on?” Elizabeth mutters aloud. “God, Richard, I hope you’re all right-“
A violent impact on the roof make the car slide to a halt, the screeching of the tyres nearly bursting your eardrums. Then everything is still, only the quiet tick over of the engine breaks the silence. You stare at each other, trying to work out what happened. Then you look up and see two large foot-size dents in the roof.
“My bloody car!” Elizabeth shouts, jumping out of the door to see what caused the damage. You get out, as does Winston, and together you look around.
“Maybe you hit something,” he ventures but Elizabeth silences him with a glare.
“I hit nothing! Something hit us! Did you not see the dents?”
You sigh quietly. “I suppose reporting this to the police isn’t going to help much?”
Winston begins to shrug when you suddenly go flying, landing in a slide across the road. You see Elizabeth drop under a blow and Winston rushes to help her, but before he can get near he is thrown back, clutching at his throat. The fog eddies around the unseen attacker, making a general shape far larger than a man, and fear hits you as hard. Winston gasps for air, his sucking rasps forcing you into action. You get there before Elizabeth and start hurling punches and kicks wildly, The impacts connect with a wet, fleshy slap that sting your knuckles. An animal-like howl splits the air which you hope is in pain. Elizabeth comes running to help but then you are thrown in her way and you both go down in a crumpled heap. Apologising to her, you rush to your feet to help again. You flail at the unseen attacker but all in vain; Winston is lifted off his feet, hovering in mid air like a thrashing puppet. He screams as puncture wounds appear. Blood starts to flow, but upwards, filling invisible veins, starting to reveal more than a shape.
The roar of an engine interrupts your fighting. You stare in confused terror at Elizabeth driving towards you and Winston, then dive out of the way as her plan becomes clear. Winston also sees it and, with his teeth gritted against the pain, manages to twist himself around. She pulls the handbrake and slides the back of the car around, wheels squealing as they burn. You see the car shudder under the strike, Winston drop, and the barrier of the bridge explode into pieces as the invisible weight is sent flying.
Taking a deep breaths, you get to your feet, staring at the hole, wondering if it was truly gone. Elizabeth gets out of the car, wincing as if she is frightened at what she might see. When she finally sees Winston she blows a sigh of relief, and he gives her a nod of thanks.
“Where did it go?” Elizabeth asks.
“It smashed through the barrier,” you gesture. The three of you gather in the gap and stare down at the Thames, but all you can see is fog.
“Is it dead?” Elizabeth asks quietly.
“If the water doesn’t kill him, the rats will,” you mutter.
There is a pause before anyone decides to speak again. “Can anyone tell me,” says Winston, “what in god’s sweet name of all that is holy and bright what exactly ‘It’ was?”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth answers. “And I’ve got the feeling it isn’t something I want to know in my life time.” She lets a breath out slowly. “With this, with Mr Shannon, with Bill’s attacker… We have to find Richard. Not only to make sure if he is all right, but to find out some answers. This all seems to revolve all around him and I’m not accepting it as a coincidence. Winston, let’s get you to a hospital.”
He waves her away. “No. Just get me a whisky and a couple of aspirin and I’ll be as right as rain in the morning. Anyway, I somewhat get the feeling it isn’t safe to be in London at the moment…”
“For any of us,” you add. “So when do we leave for Wales?”
Elizabeth looks west. “Now.”
22nd May
You take turns to make the long drive to Wales, each continuously checking for any following vehicles, and by the time you reach Llangadfan you are all quite ready for a rest. You spot a place called The Cann Office Public House and stop for some food and a drink. Feeling suspicious of everyone, you pick a table by the back of the wall.
After eating, you are about to get up to inquire about the local policeman when the door opens and two men walk in. One of the men glances at Elizabeth twice.
“Lizzie?” he ventures. “Elizabeth Mayland, is it you?”
She looks up from the drink she was pretending to have. She is wary at first but then she recognises the man. “Mister Ogilvie! Oh it’s good to see a friendly face! I assume you’re here to look for Richard as well?”
He nods. “I think he might be-”
“-in some trouble?” she finishes for him. “Yes, I’m beginning to see that now. We’ve had some trouble-”
“-as well,” he finishes for her. Ogilvie exchanges looks with his colleague.
“There seems to be a lot of that going round,” says the man. “I’m getting a drink. Anybody want one?”
Elizabeth introduces yourself and Winston, and Christian points out his friend Arthur Catt to you. He quickly explains about the meeting he had planned with a policeman and invites you to join him.
The door opens again and you hope it is the officer. But much to your surprise Charles Carter, Mr ‘The Great’ himself, walks in. He pauses as he sees Christian, then approaches gingerly. “Mr Ogilvie,” he nods.
Christian doesn’t shake his extended hand. “Now I’m guessing you are not here by chance,” he replies coolly. “Are you really this pathetic in your attempts for publicity that you would follow me?”
Carter is already shaking his head. “Please, Mr Ogilvie, this has nothing to do with that. In fact I wish I had never heard about the meteorites! I’ve had a break in, been nearly killed, I can’t go back to my home, my life! The only connection I’ve got to all of it is the comet, and that means Harker, and that means you!”
“We’ve been attacked as well!” says Elizabeth. “By black robed men. And something else…”
“Something not very nice,” adds Winston, grimacing as he touches his shoulders.
Christian bits his lip. “Me and Arthur had a spot of bother as well with something not very nice.”
The door opens again and this time it is the policeman along with a shifty looking fellow. Christian gives him a nod and a wave.
“Are you Mr Ogilvie?” The policeman shakes his hand. “I’m PC Gray, we spoke on the phone.”
“Pleasure. Can we go to and find Harker now? I’ve just received news that has me doubly worried.”
“Of course.” The policeman gestures to the shifty man. “This is Thomas Moore who will be guiding us to the cottage Harker has rented. It’s in a nearby forest but it’s a bit of a maze getting there.”
“Excuse me, Officer” a voice interrupts. A man stands behind your small group. “I couldn’t help overhearing, but did you mention a small cottage in the forest?”
The policeman nods. “And who might you be, sir?”
“I’m Peter Roberts, Estate Agent.” The man motions towards a rather wealthy looking couple seated nearby. Their servants stand a discrete distance away. “I have been appointed by the estate of the late Mr Joseph Lewis to sell his land and property and the Earl and his betrothed were to view it today. However the key holder, Mr Dafydd Jones, has advised me that the chap who recently rented the property for a week has not returned the key and by all accounts may still be there. I wonder if I could have some help with directions to the cottage, and if necessary evict the trespasser-”
“Poppycock!” Christian snorts.
“Richard’s no trespasser!” Elizabeth begins hotly but PC Gray holds up a hand for quiet.
“Now, now, let’s all stay calm.” The policeman brushes some dust off his lapels. “I’m sure this is all some big misunderstanding. Let’s sort all this mess out. Moore, lead the way.”
The shifty man mutters something under his breath which doesn’t sound too pleasant and motions for everyone to follow him. Setting off with your entourage, including a hesitant Carter, you all drive in your vehicles to the entrance of the forest before setting off on foot in search of Professor Richard Harker...
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