The Whispering Skull (Lockwood & Co., #2)

by Jonathan Stroud

As usual, just looking at him gave me confidence.

I tripped. My foot caught, I went down hard. Grass crushed cold against my face, dew splashed against my skin. Something struck my leg, and then George was sprawling over me, landing with a curse and rolling clear.

‘Tony Lockwood,’ said an amused voice. ‘With George Cubbins and . . . er . . . is it Julie? Sorry, I can never remember the girl’s name. What on earth are you playing at here?’

Being diplomatic, I’d say Kipps was a slightly built young man in his early twenties, with close-cut reddish hair and a narrow, freckled face. Being undiplomatic (but more precise), I’d say he’s a pint-sized, pug-nosed, carrot-topped inadequate with a chip the size of Big Ben on his weedy shoulder. A sneer on legs. A malevolent buffoon. He’s too old to be any good with ghosts, but that doesn’t stop him wearing the blingiest rapier you’ll ever see, weighed down to the pommel with cheap paste jewels.

‘No, I’d always be tripping over him, or losing him down the back of the sofa.

standard ward-knot

double ward-knot,

I had a fluttery feeling in my tummy, and my legs felt weak.

It was probably the late night catching up with me.

Sure, Lucy, sure.

Maybe it’s my natural style he envies, maybe my boyish charm. Perhaps it’s my set-up here – having my own agency, no one to answer to, with fine companions at my side.’

‘Or could be the fact you once stabbed him in the bottom with a sword.’

Winchester half-lunges,

Try a piece of Swiss roll, Mr Saunders? Home-made, they are. Lucy made them.’

‘Codswallop,’

Lockwood blinked. George took a half-step forward. ‘Agents’ swords aren’t just good for ghosts,’ he said. ‘They can also be used for whipping cheeky night-watch kids. Want us to show you?’ ‘Oh, how terrifying. See me tremble.

This was classic Lockwood. Friendly, considerate, empathetic. My personal impulse would have been to slap the girl soundly round the face and boot her moaning backside out into the night. Which is why he’s the leader, and I’m not. Also why I have no female friends.

Self aware

Rotating this duty fairly is second only to the biscuit rule in terms of importance. It’s a regular point of contention.

‘Also, if I don’t make it back home, I’ve made a will. I’ll tell you where to find it. Under my bed in the far corner, behind the box of tissues.’ ‘Please God it won’t come to that. Now, if you’re ready—’

He marched George straight to the living room and, without so much as a pause for our normal post-case crisps and cocoa, gave him the rollocking he deserved.

‘Lucy, I’ve been meaning to say: that was an impressive move back there – what you did with the rapier.’ ‘Thanks.’

‘You aimed it perfectly, right between their heads. An inch to the left, and you’d have skewered George right between the eyes. Really sensational accuracy there.’ I made a modest gesture. ‘Well . . . sometimes you just do what has to be done.’ ‘You didn’t actually aim it at all, did you?’ Lockwood said. ‘No.’ ‘You just chucked it. In fact, it was pure blind luck that George lost his balance and fell out of the way. That’s why he wasn’t kebabbed by you.’ ‘Yup.’

‘I’d better go and help George. I know I’ve offended him. Also I’m slightly worried about what he’s doing to my cocoa.’

But this is going to drive me over the edge. If I leap on the table and start shrieking, don’t try to stop me. Just let me howl.’

Mr Lockwood!’ ‘He’s half asleep,’ Kipps said. Lockwood looked up. ‘What? Sorry.’ He put the photograph down. ‘The mirror? Yes, you were saying you want it found. May I ask why?’

‘The Kipps group will already be there,’ he said. ‘We have to ignore them, come what may. Don’t rise to any provocation – or give any: especially you, George.’ ‘Why especially me?’ ‘You only have to look at people sometimes to arouse their savage rage.

Lockwood stood back. He looked up and down the cemetery. No one was coming. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck, hoicked him squealing above the grass. ‘As I say,’ he said, ‘we’re not like that Fittes crowd. We don’t go in for slapping people about. We do have other methods, however, that are equally effective. See that chapel? There’s an iron coffin in there. It was occupied, but now it’s empty. Well, it’ll be occupied again in a minute if you don’t start answering my civil questions.’

‘Exactly. He crossed us too. Lucy, George, grab a leg – we’re taking him inside.’

emollient

Moisturizer voice 🤣

‘Lavender.

Stronger than silver, lavender is, while the fragrance lasts.

‘Or we can just pour you out a bowl of sugar and you can drizzle a teaspoonful of coffee on top,’ Lockwood said. ‘Might be simpler that way.’

Luce, you always carry money. Mind going up and paying?

OMG stingy

Lockwood gave a sudden cry; he strode forward into the room. ‘Will you stop going on about that stupid skull! That’s not our priority, George. Are we getting paid for it? No! Is it an imminent danger to people in London? No! Are we racing against Quill Kipps and his team to solve its mystery, and so prevent our public humiliation? No, we aren’t! But all those very things are happening while you bumble about with jars and ovens! Lucy and I have risked our lives today, if it’s of any interest to you.’ He took a deep breath; George was staring at him as if mesmerized. ‘All I ask,’ Lockwood said, ‘is that you please try to focus on the job in hand . . . Well? What do you say?’

George pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘Sorry, can you repeat that? It’s those shorts. I couldn’t concentrate on what you were saying.’

pootling

bushed,

George sat back with a cry. ‘Juice! He wants juice! Can we give him that? Are we allowed to give him juice?’ He hesitated, frowning. ‘Have we actually got any?’ ‘Julius!’ Lockwood growled. ‘He said Julius, George. As in Julius Winkman. Honestly, your ears.’ He bent in close again. ‘Winkman’s got the bone glass, Jack?’

Lockwood was no less thrilled; he made us all a round of bacon sandwiches (an event almost as rare as chatting with Type Threes) and, while we ate them, talked about how we might proceed.

hobnobbing

Lockwood leaned forwards. ‘Great – it’s being talkative. Ask it what the mirror actually does, Luce.’ ‘I don’t want to ask this foul creature anything. Besides, there’s no way it would ever tell us.’ ‘Hold on,’ the ghost said. ‘Try asking nicely. A little bit of courtesy might help.’ I looked at it. ‘Please tell us what the mirror does.’ ‘Get lost! You haven’t been very polite today, so you can all go boil your heads.’

‘He’s just as dumb as us,’ I said. ‘It’d be so much simpler to do it during daylight.’

‘You think she’ll want tea? She looked more of a methylated spirits sort of girl.’

‘It’s coffee,’ I said. ‘And a quick word of advice. No cheap comments at her expense. She’s easily offended and would probably disembowel you.’

‘Story of my life,’ Ge...

‘I’ve got something somewhere. George wouldn’t recognize a suit if it walked up and smacked him round the head. But he hasn’t done anything about it;

I wasn’t the only one to have reservations about my dress. Someone had knocked the cloth off the ghost-jar, and the face had re-materialized. It pulled extravagant expressions of horror and disgust whenever I passed by.

‘Lucy, you look delightful,’ he said. ‘George, you’ll have to do. Oh, here’s something for you, Luce. Might go well with that excellent dress.’

‘What?’ I stared at it. ‘Where’d you get this?’ ‘Just something I had. I suggest you close your mouth when you wear it – it’s more elegant that way.

Sure you’ve got your shirt tucked in, George?’ ‘Stop worrying. I even brushed my teeth as well.’ ‘My God, you have made an effort. All right, here we go. Best behaviour, everyone.’

‘You look terrific, Luce. You might have been born to this. Don’t step back like that; you just prodded that lady’s bottom with your sword.’ ‘Oh no. Did I?’ ‘And don’t turn round so fast. You nearly cut that waiter in two.’ George nodded. ‘Don’t move, basically – that’s my advice.’