since he’d get into trouble for missing them, and she supposed it might be interesting to find out more about AH2. So, quick as a somersault, she morphed into him. As she left Max’s body, she thanked him, and she introduced herself to AH2 before pushing his character down below her.
“I’m Molly now,” Molly as AH2 said to Black and Micky. “And Micky, maybe you should be him.” She pointed to a Rasta man who was walking toward Parliament Square carrying a placard that read WAKE UP: CLIMATE CHANGE IS HERE. Above, a flash of lightning lit up the dark gray sky.
“It certainly is,” Black muttered, adding mysteriously, “and quicker than any of you might suspect.”
“Where to, guv?” asked the cab driver. They were now out on the busy street.
“Blissamore Hotel, please,” Black replied. Above them, another flash of lightning splintered across the sky. Heavier raindrops began to fall. “Good lord, it really has started,” Black said to himself.
They all piled into the cab, dripping from the rain. Molly as AH2, and Micky as the Rasta, whose name was Leonard.
“Wow! Everyt’ing is cool in ’ere!” Micky said, with a Jamaican lilt to his voice, as he settled back into his seat. “This guy listens to a lot of music. It’s flying around his brain like ribbons.” The cab set off.
“I don’t believe it!” Molly gasped as she glanced through AH2’s mind. “This guy shot me with a tracking dart! That’s how he always knows where I am. I remember where now. It was by the pool—do you remember, Micky?”
It was then that she heard the barking. It was Petula’s bark, Molly was sure of it. Forgetting about AH2, Molly wound down the window. She saw Petula with Stanley and Magglorian. They were running alongside the cab in the rain.
“Stop the car!” Molly cried. And in the next moment she had opened the cab door and was on the street, hugging Petula. Behind, other cabs and buses beeped.
“You better get in,” the cab driver suggested. “Or I’ll get a ticket.”
“So has your pet changed into this man now?” Stanley asked Petula, looking at AH2, extremely confused.
“Yes! Thanks, you two. We found her!”
Magglorian sniffed the air and eyed the traffic that was building up on the road behind.
“Talking of pets,” he said, “I’d better get back to mine. They’ll be worrying.”
“Same ’ere,” said Stanley. “Mine’ll be leavin’ the market soon.”
Both dogs barked at Petula.
“Nice meeting you, Petula!” Magglorian said, wagging his tail.
“Good luck, girl!” Stanley added. He dropped a stone into the car. “And there you go, Petula, I’ve been meaning to give you that! A little present. Good-bye.” He gave her a cheeky wink, and with that, the two London dogs scampered away, dodging pedestrians and looking like they owned the streets. Then Petula jumped in the cab, picked up the present of the pebble, and shook herself down.
Ten minutes later, they had arrived back at the hotel where Black had stayed the night before.
“Come on up.” Black led Molly as AH2 and Micky as the Rasta past a gray-suited receptionist toward the hotel’s elevator.
“Is this where you normally live?” Molly asked.
“I live in a few places,” Black said, pressing the elevator button.
The doors pinged open and they all shuffled in.
“Just explain,” Molly said, tilting her head. “Why do you live in a hotel and how?”
“This hotel belongs to my brother. He inherited it from our mother when she died. The deal was, I got the equivalent in cash and an apartment to live in.” Molly watched bright numbered buttons light up as the elevator ascended through the building. “He’s a businessman now. He owns other hotels, too,” Black continued. “And of course the casino. I don’t really approve of that part of his business, but he let me have an office there and it seemed a waste to refuse on principle. I mean, he’ll continue running that gambling house whatever I say, and it’s an excellent location for my charity, so in the balance it’s a good idea.”
They all stepped out onto a carpeted landing. Then Micky stalled.
“Before we go into your apartment,” he said, “I’ve just got a few questions for you, Mr. Black.”
Black nodded. “Fire away. You need to trust me a hundred percent.”
“Firstly,” Micky started, “Miss Hunroe showed us some pictures. In one you were in the park, sitting on a bench with a woman, a woman in a hat with a bird on it, and you seemed to be hypnotizing her with a pendulum. How can you explain that?”
“Oh!” Black exclaimed. “Mrs. Moriarty! She’s an antiques dealer. She was selling me that pendulum. I collect pendulums, you see. She met me in the park because I couldn’t get to Camden, where her shop is. Hunroe is so devious,” he added. “That picture must have made me look really bad. I have the bill for it inside, if you want proof.”
“Hmm. And what about the man from Wiltshire Jams? There was a picture of you in a cafe looking deep into his eyes.”
“Yes, I know exactly the occasion you are talking about.” Mr. Black smiled. “I can’t believe Hunroe was photographing me then. The old man’s name is Sam. We call him Jammy Sam. He’s my uncle. I met him for a coffee, and he got a bit of dust in his eye. He wanted me to see whether I could get it out for him. I could show you some family photographs, if you like.”
Micky nodded. “Hmm.”
Molly interrupted. “Micky, I promise you, Black is fine. I’ve seen inside his head. Really, he’s
“If you say so, Molly.”
A few steps later, they were walking into Black’s hotel apartment. Molly recognized the French windows that she’d seen before from the outside. It was far fancier than Molly had imagined.
The sitting room was large, with a white carpet. There were two black doors at either end, and stone Indian sculptures of gods stood on polished stone stands along the walls. Some wore crowns of gold, others golden necklaces and earrings. One section of the wall was covered with pendulums—gold, silver, and copper; some pendulums encrusted with precious stones were draped all over the walls. Two huge mirrors on each end of the room made the space seem even bigger, and a fire burned in a black slate hearth framed by a white marble fireplace. A strange, swirling wire bush of a lampshade hung in the center of the room like a metal wasp’s nest, and lit scented candles filled the air with the warm smell of frankincense. Three white sofas were arranged around a low silver table that was piled high with books. In the middle of the coffee table was a golden sculpture of a goddess doing a yogic pose. And on each of the walls to the right and left hung strange portraits of women with two faces on the same head.
“Those pictures remind me of Miss Hunroe and her two-faced spinster friends,” Micky observed.
“Yes,” Black replied. “But the ladies in these pictures seem ugly on the outside but are beautiful people underneath—so it’s the reverse. They are Picassos, by the way.” Then he took off his wet coat and shoes.
A woman in a black uniform came in with a tray of delicate chocolates, which she put on the table, and some velvet slippers that she gave to Black. She took his coat and shoes.
“Glad you’re back, Mr. Black,” she said. “I was starting to worry.” She smiled at Leonard and at AH2. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree,” Black said mysteriously.
“Oh, good. Very glad to hear that,” the woman said.
“And thanks for the chocolates, Dot. Just what we need. Yum, those are the toffee fondant ones, aren’t they?” Black picked up the silver tray and offered one to Molly.
“Yes, Mr. Black. And that nice baker from Harrow’s dropped off some of those extra-special croissants he makes. So you’ll be happy at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Oh, well done, Dot. You are an angel. Looks like there’ll be a few of us for supper. Is it possible to have lobster?”
“Righty-o, sir.” Dot began to go. “By the way, Lily is a bit, erm…well, let’s say hot under the collar.” With that she went out.
At the same time, the double doors on the left of the room opened. There stood Lily Black in a black lace
