The Mask of Destiny by Richard Newsome Page B

she climbed out of the dumb waiter onto the ballroom floor. Gerald and Sam followed.
    â€˜What? In the zombie get up?’ Sam said.
    â€˜And I think that’s Constable Lethbridge.’
    â€˜Where?’
    â€˜The giant pigeon.’
    Gerald shook his head. ‘Mum invited him as a thanks for all that guard duty, but I didn’t think he’d show up. At least not dressed as a pigeon.’
    Then Sam and Ruby screamed—a high-pitched stereo shriek that pierced Gerald’s brain. A large man in a kilt, his face painted a vibrant blue and his red beard flared out like he’d been electrocuted, had leapt in front of them, his features contorted in rage. ‘ Death to all Sassenachs! ’
    It took a few seconds for the ringing in Gerald’s ears to fade.
    â€˜Professor McElderry,’ he said to the blue-faced highlander. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
    The professor gave Gerald a wink and raised a full glass. ‘Never miss a good knees-up,’ he said. ‘You never know when it might be your last. Still,’ he took a long draught, ‘wish they’d told me it was fancy dress.’
    â€˜Oh,’ said Sam, ‘didn’t you know?’
    McElderry blinked at Sam, as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. ‘Have I ever mentioned that you might well be the stupidest boy in the world?’
    Gerald smiled. ‘Well, it looks like you’re having fun,’ he shouted to McElderry above the booming racket of the ballroom. ‘Who’s that dressed as a bishop and singing with the band?’
    The professor glanced over his shoulder. On the other side of the room, a tall man dressed in white robes with a golden mitre askew on his head was belting out the chorus to ‘River Deep, Mountain High’.
    â€˜That is the bishop,’ McElderry said. ‘He really didn’t know it was fancy dress. Not a bad voice. All those years in the choir, I expect. Look, I’m glad I caught up with you. I’ve had a call from my friend at the Vatican library in Rome—you remember him.’
    Gerald nodded. The professor’s friend had made the connection between Gerald’s family seal and an ancient Roman emperor.
    â€˜He’s been doing some more reading into your very interesting family, Gerald,’ the professor said. An explosion sounded over McElderry’s right shoulder. Gerald caught sight of a penguin lopping off the top of a champagne bottle with a French cavalry sword.
    Gerald let out a long breath. ‘It gets more interesting, does it?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ Professor McElderry said. ‘And on both sides as well. Did you know that your mother’s ancestors believed the family would one day produce someone special?’
    â€˜Special?’
    â€˜Yep. The progeny. Can you believe—’
    The professor’s words were drowned out by a shriek of ‘Gerald!’ A pink-faced penguin was advancing on them.
    â€˜Gotta go, professor! But let’s talk later, okay?’ Gerald said.
    Gerald rolled back into the dumb waiter. Sam and Ruby followed him. Sam fumbled with the button panel.
    The professor reached into a pocket and said, ‘I’ve got something for—’ but the door slid shut, cutting him off. The dumb waiter moved down, and the blare of the party faded behind them.
    â€˜Your mum seems to be having a good time,’ Ruby said to Gerald.
    â€˜Yeah. She specialises in that.’
    â€˜I didn’t see your dad,’ Sam said. ‘What’s he dressed as?’
    Gerald stared at the wall. ‘I can’t remember.’
    â€˜You can’t remember?’
    â€˜That’s right,’ Gerald said. ‘I can not remember.’
    The door slid open and the three of them tumbled out of the dumb waiter onto the kitchen floor.
    Mrs Rutherford looked up from the table. ‘You took your time,’ she said. ‘I’ve been battling to keep Mr Fry