The Mysterious Benedict Society

A loud booming sound interrupted him. The children jumped. Had the Executives come to break down the door? But no, the booming sound didn’t come from the door. It came from behind the wall, and was quickly followed by a muffled voice: “Katie! Are you in there, child?”

“Snakes and dogs!” growled Mr. Curtain. “Who is that? And how did he get back there?”

“Milligan!” Kate shouted as they all put their ears to the wall. “Where are you?”

“In a passage behind a hidden door, but the door opens from the inside. Is there a lever or switch of some kind?”

“The wheelchair!” cried Reynie, dashing to Mr. Curtain’s chair to study its buttons. “I should have known you’d keep a secret exit. When it comes down to it, you’re not even half as brave as a child.”

Reynie was hoping his words would infuriate Mr. Curtain into sleep, but Mr. Curtain had prepared himself and was not so easily goaded. “You’re right. I give up,” he said slyly. “If you promise not to hurt me, I’ll tell you which button to push. It’s the middle one there on the right arm.”

“Sure it is,” said Reynie, who recognized the button. Pushing it would admit the Executives. He studied the other ones. “Let’s see, this one’s for the intercom — I saw you push that one, too — and these levers are obviously for the wheels and brakes, so that leaves . . . this one!” He held his finger above an inconspicuous silver button.

“You’re right,” Mr. Curtain said with a dramatic sigh. “That’s the one.”

Reynie grinned. “You want me to think you’re trying to trick me. But you can’t trick me that way, either.”

Mr. Curtain scowled, Reynie pressed the button, and an electronic keypad popped into view on the wall above Kate’s head.

“Well done, my miserable young spies,” said Mr. Curtain haughtily. “You’ve found the keypad. What a pity you don’t know the code.”

“Try 3507,” Reynie said.

Kate reached up to enter the code. “Oh, no! There aren’t any numbers! It’s all letters!”

Mr. Curtain smiled an oily, self-satisfied smile. “You must have got that number from one of my Executives. I admit I’m impressed. However, I’m afraid not even my Executives know the code to my secret exit.”

“Maybe we can guess it,” Sticky ventured.

Mr. Curtain shook his head as if he pitied them. “Do you not see the pointlessness of your efforts? Even if you managed to escape the island, you would have accomplished nothing. Moreover, you can be assured my Recruiters would come for you. You would be captured by nightfall, and by morning you would be calling me your master. You will be under my complete control!”

“Thank you!” Reynie burst out, his face brightening.

Mr. Curtain was startled. “Thank me?”

“You’ve given me an idea! Aren’t you always saying that control is the key?”

Mr. Curtain snorted with contempt, but from the look of fury in the man’s eyes, Reynie felt he’d struck the right note. “Kate, try the word ‘control.’”

Kate poked the keys deliberately, calling out the letters as she typed: “C-O-N-T-R-O-L.”

Nothing happened.

Over the intercom came S.Q.’s voice: “Mr. Curtain, sir! We’ve found a ladder and should have it outside your window in two minutes!”

Mr. Curtain chuckled. “Reynard, you pathetic fellow, did you honestly think you were smarter than I? Did you truly believe you could guess my code? ‘Control,’ indeed. Oh, bravo. Bravo, bravo. Three cheers for Reynard Muldoon!”

“I thought we’d try English first,” Reynie said thoughtfully. “But since you’re so proud of your home country, I think we’ll also try Dutch.”

Mr. Curtain’s jaw dropped. Then, trying to cover his consternation, he said, “As if you could possibly know —”

Reynie interrupted him. “Sticky, how do you spell ‘control’ in Dutch?”

“Same as in English,” Sticky replied. “Only with an E on the end.”

“Here’s hoping,” Kate said, reaching up to tap the E key.

“Snakes and dogs!” howled Mr. Curtain, before falling into a peaceful sleep.

As the hidden door slid open and Kate was swept up into Milligan’s good arm, Reynie and Sticky rushed over to help Constance. The cuffs and helmet had not retracted. Constance’s eyelids were fluttering, and still she murmured, so quietly it was difficult to hear her, “No . . . no . . . no . . .”

“We have to get her out!” Sticky said.

“Don’t worry, we will,” said a woman’s voice.

The boys turned to discover Rhonda Kazembe and Number Two standing right behind them. And then, before they could express their amazement, into the room strode Mr. Benedict himself.

“Mr. Benedict!” Reynie cried. “We were trying to confuse it — that is, Constance was, but —”

Mr. Benedict nodded. “You’ve done wondrously well. Wondrously well. Now how is dear Constance?”