aphophis child

IV. Kidnapped.

I JUST LOVE FAMILY MEETINGS WHEN IT ISNT YOURS BUT YOUR THERE. Very cozy, with the Christmas garlands round the fireplace and a nice pot of tea and a detective from Scotland Yard ready to arrest some person you met today.

Carter slumped on the sofa, cradling Julius's workbag. I wondered why the police had let him keep it. It should have been evidence or something, but the inspector didn't seem to notice it at all.

Carter looked awful—I mean even worse than usual. Honestly, the boy had never been in a proper school, and he dressed like a junior professor, with his khaki trousers and a button-down shirt and loafers. He's not bad looking, I suppose. He's reasonably tall and fit and his hair isn't hopeless. He's got Dad's eyes, and apparently Sadies's friends Liz and Emma have even told her from his picture that he's hot.

Neos and Cleopatra the V sat on either side of him, looking quite nervous. The pot of tea and a plate of biscuits sat on the table, but no one was having any. Chief Inspector Williams ordered Sadie into the only free chair. I sat on the floor, but he wasn't included with the consequences. Then he paced in front of the fireplace importantly. Two more police stood by the front door—the woman from earlier and a big guy who kept eyeing the biscuits.

"Mr. and Mrs. Faust," Inspector Williams said, "I'm afraid we have two uncooperative children. And a child here against his will. We'll be calling his family."

Faust woman fidgeted with the trim of her dress. It's hard to believe she's related to Ruby Cleopatra thingy. Gran is frail and colorless, like a stick person really, while Ruby in the photos always looked so happy and full of life. "They're just children," she managed. "Surely you can't blame them."

"Pah!" Mr Faust said. "This is ridiculous, Inspector. They aren't responsible!"

Mr Faust boy is a former rugby player. He has beefy arms, a belly much too big for his shirt, and eyes sunk deep in his face, as if someone had punched them (well, actually Julius had punched them years ago, but that's another story). He is quite scary looking. Usually people got out of his way, but Inspector Williams didn't seem impressed.

"Mr. Faust," he said, "what do you imagine the morning headlines will read? 'British Museum attacked. Rosetta Stone destroyed.' Your son-in-law—"

"Former son-in-law," Faust man corrected.

"—was most likely vaporized in the explosion, or he ran off, in which case—"

"He didn't run off!" Sadie shouted.

"I think I broke my nose."

"We need to know where he is," the inspector continued. "And the only witnesses, your grandchildren and Mikah, refuse to tell me the truth. And Mikah has a broken nose."

"I didn't see. I fainted." I frowned.

"We did tell you the truth," Carter said. "Dad isn't dead. He sank through the floor."

Inspector Williams glanced at Gramps, as if to say, There, you see? Then he turned to Carter. "Young man, your father has committed a criminal act. He's left you behind to deal with the consquences—"

"Are you calling my aunt?" I asked.

"Yes we are."

"That's not true!" Sadie snapped, her voice trembling with rage. She couldn't believe he would intentionally leave us at the mercy of police, of course. But the idea of him abandoning her—well, as she might have mentioned, that's a bit of a sore point.

"Dear, please," Gran told me, "the inspector is only doing his job."

"Let's all have some tea," Gran suggested.