and sat in a tree. He watched the muscular young man with an unfriendly eye.
Jessup backed down the stairs.
âIâm sorry,â
he said.
âBut Harold asked me to come visit. My nameâs Jessup Volnik.â
âItâs still private, whatever your name is,â
said Mean Man.
âCome back tomorrow. Or next week.â
He pulled a wire mesh screen down over the end of the trailer, and let it drop with a crash. Then he disappeared into the depths behind it.
But a truck came swinging into the parking lot from the road that ran along the lake: a noisy little pickup with a large plastic-swathed piece of machineryin the back. Out of the cab jumped Harold Pindle, still in the sweatshirt and jeans he had worn on the airplane.
âJessup!â
he cried.
âEmily! Welcome!â
He reached out remarkably long arms, like an octopus, hugging them both as if he had known them since birth. Then he shook hands enthusiastically with Tommy and Mr. Maconochie.
âYouâre Mr. Mac! The lawyer who bought a castle! And Tommy the computer whiz! Come on all of you and meet Jenny, and Adelaide!â
Jenny, climbing out of the pickupâs cab with an armful of papers, turned out to be Haroldâs assistant: a small, tough-looking Chinese-American girl with a black ponytail and a cheerful, ready smile. Adelaide was the machine wrapped in plastic: a Remotely Operated Vehicle, known as an ROV. She was the size of a dining-room table, rectangular, with a bright yellow tubular frame and casing and a great many cables and dials and wires. Jenny unwrapped the plastic to show her off, and Harold patted the yellow frame affectionately.
âThis is one of the two babies who are going to help us find the Monster,â
he said.
âSweet Adelaide, down she goes under the water tomorrow to join her brother â and then weâll see!â
âWhatâs the other one called?â
said Emily.
âSydney,â
said Jenny.
âHarold was born in Australia.â
âSydney and Adelaide between them will scour the loch,â
said Harold with satisfaction.
âAnd it wonât just be side-scan sonar â weâll have a laser line scan. Thereâsonly about half a dozen of those in the world. Amazing business â it converts to color pictures just like your TV set. Come on in and see.â
He leaped up the trailer steps and rattled the wire mesh screen.
âChuck!â
he bellowed.
âOpen up!â
Mean Man appeared out of the darkness, looked at them all in silence, and reluctantly unlocked the barrier. He instantly vanished again into the depths.
âChuck doesnât like people,â
said Harold cheerfully.
âHe prefers Sydney and Adelaide. But heâs a very good technician. Come on in.â
They climbed the little ladder after him, with the Boggart in pursuit, and squeezed into the spaces between equipment in the trailer. Mr. Maconochie found a coil of wire jutting into his neck, and tried to make himself shorter.
Harold tugged the wire out of Mr. Maconochieâs collar.
âNot much room, Iâm afraid,â
he said.
âThis thingâs really a container. Had it shipped over just like this, full of the equipment and a lot of plastic packing. A truck brought it here, and all we had to do was open the door, pull out the packing, plug in, and set up shop.â
Head slightly bent, Mr. Maconochie looked around in wonder at the array of dials and gauges and switches. It looked like the control room of a nuclear submarine. He said,
âThis must have cost a small fortune.â
Harold Pindle chuckled.
âSure did. We have an angel. A wonderful old fellow called Axel Kalling, of Kalling Match â he has a foundation that supportsunfashionable scientific enterprises. Like mine . . . Now take a look at this, Jessup ââ
He sat down at a control panel in front of what looked like a television screen and began turning dials, and a hazy
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