The man seemed hardly to notice. He gave a grunt of annoyance, but did not even slow down. Three more steps and he would be on Sir William. His hands were outstretched ready to snap the old man in two like a dead branch.
Without even thinking about it, George launched himself again at the ape-like man who was now reaching for Sir William.
The force of the impact as George crashed into him sent the man stumbling sideways. George found himself slipping away down the bank, and collided with something heavy and jagged and painful. A lump of rock.
George was back on his feet now, hefting up the rock. He stumbled once more towards the attacker who was pulling himself slowly to his knees. But before George got there, Liz stepped smartly forwards and kicked the man hard under the chin. His head snapped back and he groaned in pain and anger. But his hand whipped up and grabbed Liz’s foot — twisting and pulling so that she slipped to the ground with a cry.
The man was on his feet again now, his hands clasped together as if he held a sword. He was poised, ready to bring his double fist smashing down on Liz’s head.
Sir William barged into the massive figure, shoulder down, in an effort to knock him off balance. But he might as well have run into a brick wall. He glanced off, stumbled, and fell to the ground.
He was too far away to reach Liz. But George brought his arms up above his head, and hurled the large, heavy lump of rock. It caught the assailant in the chest, the force of the impact forcing him to take several steps backwards. Liz scrambled rapidly out of reach, the rock thudding to the ground where she had been only seconds before.
‘Sorry,’ George gasped as he pulled himself up the slope. He stooped down beside Liz, not to check she was all right, but to lift the heavy lump of stone once again.
But the ape man was too quick. With a desperate effort, Sir William scrambled forwards, rolling into the man’s legs. He grabbed and pulled, scrabbled and was somehow able to slow the man just enough for George to stagger back out of the way, the rock again clutched to his chest.
As the man started to run heavily and ponderously straight at George, Sir William grabbed his bent cane and threw it like a spear between the man’s legs. Caught between one leg and the other, the cane shattered with a bullet-like crack.
But it had done its job. The man stumbled. Off balance, and heading down the steep hill, he had to run faster to prevent himself from falling. George’s eyes widened as he saw the giant figure hurtling towards him.
Then a ball of crinoline and limbs rolled itself in front of the attacker — who stumbled, tripped, crashed forwards over the top of Liz and thumped massively into the ground, skidding muddily down the slope to come to a halt face-down at George’s feet.
Without a word, without thinking, George smashed the rock down on the back of the man’s head. But incredibly, he heard the man cry out. Slowly but inexorably he was stumbling back to his feet.
‘Again!’ Sir William cried.
George did not need telling twice, and smashed it down again on the man’s head. And again.
Eventually, the figure was still. George let the rock fall to the ground, before collapsing exhausted to his knees beside it.
‘I’m afraid the noise may have alerted this man’s colleagues,’ Sir William said breathlessly. ‘If,’ he added as he stooped beside George to examine the body, ‘he really is a man.’
‘What do you mean?’ Liz was picking herself up and brushing unsuccessfully at the muddy stains down the front of her dress.
‘Is he dead?’ George asked. He half hoped the man was, though he shuddered even to think of it.
‘He should be,’ Sir William said. ‘Just one of those blows should have shattered his skull.’ At this point the huge man snored, loudly. Sir William was feeling round the top of the man’s head. Apparently satisfied, he turned his attention to the rest of his body — prodding at the arms and legs and mumbling to himself. ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he decided at last. ‘Just as I thought.’ He looked up at George and Liz as they stood watching. ‘Just as I feared.’
‘We should hurry,’ George said, alerted by the sounds of cries and shouts from somewhere behind them.
‘Yes.’ Sir William got to his feet and retrieved the pieces of his broken cane. He looked at them sadly. ‘I think the gates must be just up here. He was probably left to guard the exit.’
Sir William led them quickly along the path and they soon reached the back gate out of the park. It was locked, but Sir William produced a small metal tool from inside his jacket, and in moments the gate was open. It creaked ominously in the still of the night, and Liz froze, half expecting hordes of Lorimore’s strongmen to descend on them out of the darkness. But all remained silent.
‘You think we’ll find a cab?’ George asked.
‘Later, perhaps. I’d like to take a short walk first.’
‘A short walk?’ Liz was appalled. ‘Poor Eddie will be heading back to the Museum looking for us, possibly with all manner of blackguards on his tail, and you feel the need for a constitutional?’
Sir William smiled. ‘All in a good cause, I promise. But if you want to go straight back to the Museum, please don’t let me stop you.’
‘Where are you thinking of going, sir?’ George said before Liz could reply.
‘It’s only a short way to Lorimore’s main foundry,’ Sir William explained. ‘I have a notion it might be worth a quick look, since we happen to be in the vicinity.’ He looked from George to Liz. ‘What we have seen tonight, the incredible strength of that man for instance — and I do mean incredible — has somewhat piqued my interest. The back of his head, for example, seemed to be made of metal. And where do you suppose Lorimore would have the facilities to make a metal headpiece, hmm?’
The probing hand felt round the hole, scrabbling at the rough metalwork inside. Eddie watched it, transfixed as if by a cobra. He held his stone poised, ready to slam it down on the hand should it come too close, or if the owner tried to pull himself through the hole in the underside of the statue.
Time seemed to have slowed down — it took an age for whoever was attached to the other end of the arm to decide that he was wasting his time and withdraw it. Eddie had to force himself not to sigh out loud with relief. He could hear two men outside talking, but their voices were muffled now and indistinct. Perhaps because they were facing away, perhaps because of the fog, perhaps because they were leaving.
Even when it was completely silent outside, Eddie remained frozen in position. He could feel the rough metal through the material of his trousers. When he did move his knees would be embossed with a relief map of the inside of the statue. Gently and silently he edged closer to the hole. He clutched the rounded stone as if it was a talisman, reassured by the way it fitted so well in his hand, ready to strike at anything that moved.
But the only movement was the slow drifting of the wisps of fog between the underside of the statue and the ground several feet below. Cautiously, Eddie lowered his head through the gap, looking all round to be sure there was no one in sight. The mist had rolled in again as the air near the water warmed with the approaching threat of dawn. He waited a full minute to be sure he was indeed alone. Then he allowed himself to fall forwards through the hole, his arms outstretched in front of him to take his weight.
The ground was slippery rock, and he was hampered by the stone he still held in one hand. He slipped and crashed to the hard ground, grunting in pain and annoyance as the air was knocked out of him. Eddie lay there, staring up at the underside of the dinosaur as he got his breath back. He was also thinking, trying to remember the way back to the park entrance. Could he retrace his steps? Would Blade have left anyone on guard at the entrance? Come to that, was it the only way out of the park? If there were others, maybe Eddie had a better chance of avoiding Lorimore’s men and making his escape.
Eddie knew he had to get moving, but he did not want to. He wanted to stay here, in the shadow and safety of the dinosaur. The best way to break the spell, he knew, was not to think about it but just to do it.
So without really picking the moment, Eddie got to his feet and stumbled out from under the statue. He made his way cautiously back down the slope towards the lake, peering into the mist in an effort to make out his surroundings, listening carefully as he hurried back to the path. He could hear nothing, but did that mean that Blade and his men had given up? Or were they hiding, waiting for him?
This was the path back to the main gates now, he was sure. Eddie hastened his pace. Just another couple of minutes and he would be out of the park and safe. Getting back to Holborn might take him a while, but maybe he could get a ride with a milkman heading that way to start his rounds, or a postie …
