“Good evening, and to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?” Eddy's acerbic voice mocked.
Dave Hinchy (for of course it was he) froze on the spot, and raised his hand to his eyes to evade the glare of the beams burning into them.
“Let me guess,” Eddy continued, “It's not December, so you’re not Santa; you’re too fat for the tooth fairy, and our gas meter was read the other week. So that just leaves me with one last option: the numb-skulled, dull-witted, goggle-eyed, furry-eared, banjo-toting, illiterate postman who shoves his own private mail through all and sundries' cat flaps with that dumb-as-cat-poo look slapped right across his Chevy Chase.. Hmm? Am I getting warm, sonny Jim?”
Quite taken aback, and still partially blinded by the darting red beams from Eddy's eye sockets, Dave was trying to make out just who was addressing him.
“Who... Who... Who are you?” Dave stammered, trying to sound bolder than he actually felt.
“Never mind who I am. The important question right now is – just what do you think you are doing in Ruby's caravan at this late hour? Hmm?”
Dave refused to answer any questions until he knew who was questioning him.
Eddy felt quite insulted that his authority was being undermined.
“For what it's worth to you, cherub, my name is Eddy. I'm a two-hundred-year-old Capuchin monkey skull, and I've far more brains in this empty piece of bone than you have buzzing around in that thick cranium of yours; that much is quite evident. I mean, honestly, who in their right mind goes snooping around a witch's private possessions in the middle of the night?”
Dave could hardly prevent himself from laughing. He was being accosted by a monkey skull, called Eddy, of all things. It was absurd, ridiculous. He giggled, feeling suddenly quite at ease:
“Eddy?!!! That's a stupid name for a monkey skull. Where did they dig that one up from?”
Chen, who had been quietly observing the situation with great interest, shut his eyes at Dave’s remark. Tobias scuttled back into the kitchen; he knew the warning signs. Eddy was very prickly about the name he had been assigned, and wasn't averse to letting people know his feelings about it.
Just as Chen and Tobias had foreseen, Eddy was becoming increasingly furious. He was far from pleased that a dim-witted post-boy should even think he was on the same intellectual level. After all... Eddy had the wisdom and experience of the ages on his side...
“Eddy may be a stupid name for a monkey skull,” he hissed, haughtily, “But... Not half as stupid a name as Ruby is for a short, fat, old witch with an overly large baseball bat.”
“Wha..???”
Before he had even had time to consider just what Eddy had said, there was a swish, and Ruby swung the bat. It connected with Dave's head with a good, solid, gratifying 'Thunk!' and the would-be burglar was laid out cold on the beautifully-patterned Persian rug.
**********
When Dave eventually came round, he could hear the familiar voice of Ruby, mixed up with the nines times’ table and a recipe for apple crumble all chorusing fuzzily through his head.
Ruby was standing over his inert body, still brandishing the baseball bat at him in an altogether quite alarming fashion:
“Young man, as you must be aware from my esoteric religious convictions; I abhor violence, of any kind. In my opinion, if you have to resort to physical attack, you have already lost any intellectual argument, not to mention the moral higher ground. But, when it comes to a nefarious thug with questionable intentions breaking into a poor, defenceless old lady's home in the middle of the night... well, sometimes one has to make an exception, and go against one's principles.”
Dazed and still struggling to retain his recently-reacquired conscious state, let alone fathom out what Ruby meant, Dave blinked stupidly up at her.
“The pen might be mightier than the sword, but a swift, solid baseball bat across the chops certainly settles an argument quickly!” Ruby was more upset due to her sleep being disturbed than by the nature of the break-in.
Dave struggled to raise himself but could not find the strength. Gurgling and gasping, he tried crawling out of the caravan, slithering, snakelike, on his belly. The whole world was still spinning in a revoltingly drunken manner; his head was throbbing; he felt that he was going to be sick . Ruby's angry words were still ringing in his ears all mixed up, somehow, with the 1930's French song “Boum!” by Charles Trenet.
**********
Dave fell clumsily out of the door, and then, slowly, using all of his mental and physical strength, he gathered himself up and staggered off, limping unsteadily, weaving from side to side like a sluggish but out of control pin ball, down the muddy track lane. He knew he had to contact help and get out of there quickly before Ruby stopped ranting and decided to haul him back for a more in-depth interrogation. He fumbled in his pocket for the small silver and jade crab talisman that Hariman had given to each of the conspirators to enable them to make telepathic contact with one another.
The reception was crackly, due to the clouds blocking the moon's broadcasting beams. Stumbling down the lane, unsure how much time he had before Ruby would come after him, and even less sure of how long the device would communicate for, Dave begged Alice to answer his coded pleas.
After what felt like an eternity, a sleepy, croaky, reedy voice sounded in his head:
“David, what in the name of Hecate do you want at this time of night? I do hope it's nothing trivial or I will be most displeased. I've got a stinking cold and have only just managed to drop off to sleep... What is it? Don't burble! Speak clearly and be concise....”
David began to explain all about what had just transpired,
