Catweazle

then sat down heavily on a bale of straw.
‘You see sir, it was only last week they started to go. I’d only been down ’ere
three days.’
    ‘What
started to go?’ said Mr Bennet, who was anxious to get back to his work.
    ‘Brooms,’
said Bottle darkly.
    ‘Brooms?’
    ‘Yes,
Mr Bennet,’ said Bottle consulting his notebook. ‘Birch brooms or besoms as
they’re sometimes called. Eighteen from the Forestry. Four or five from private
houses and ten from a Mr Rangi Lee’s caravan. He makes ’em, you know,’ he
added.
    ‘But it
must be some form of practical joke,’ said Mr Bennet.
    ‘Ah!’
said Bottle. ‘That’s what I thought at first. A hoax. But we recovered six of
’em today, and they was all burnt, and they was all tied together.’
    ‘That
is a bit odd,’ admitted Mr Bennet.
    ‘It’s
more than odd, it’s sinister.’
    Bottle
came closer to Mr Bennet.
    ‘You
see, sir,’ he said, ‘underneath, underneath country people are still
very primitive.’
    ‘Oh,
are they?’ said Mr Bennet, who was a countryman born and bred.
    ‘Yes
sir, the veneer’s quite thin you know. Superstition dies ’ard. Old beliefs
linger.’
    ‘Old
beliefs?’
    ‘Pagan
rites,’ breathed Bottle, producing a book called Witchcraft Today. On
the cover was a witch dancing round a fire on a broomstick.
    ‘Bin
doin’ some research,’ said Bottle, tapping the book. ‘Broomsticks you see.
Fire. Unholy practices. The Black Mass.’
    ‘The
Black Mass?’ repeated Mr Bennet with bewilderment.
    ‘Don’t
worry. I’ve alerted the Vicar,’ said Bottle. ‘We may need him later on.’
    ‘But
Sergeant - ’
    ‘Who
owns that old car outside?’
    ‘Sam,
my foreman,’ explained Mr Bennet.
    ‘The
feller who burnt the broom?’
    ‘That’s
right, but - ’
    ‘Then
the net’s tightening. That there car was seen near where we found the burnt
brooms.’
    ‘Now
just a minute, Sergeant. First of all you tell me that someone’s practising
witchcraft and now you say it’s Sam.’
    ‘How
else can you explain it?’
    ‘But
it’s fantastic!’
    ‘I agree,
Mr Bennet. Nothing like this ever ’appened in Wimbledon.’
    ‘But
Sam’s not the sort of chap to get mixed up in anything weird.’
    ‘The
most unlikely people get involved, Mr Bennet, according to this book. Cabinet
Ministers, even Union Officials. Whatever you do - don’t arouse his suspicions.
He could turn very nasty. Just tell ’im I’d like to see ’im. You know, casual
like. Give me time to get back to the station, and then send him along.’
    And
with that Sergeant Bottle rose, brushed the straw from his trousers, and
marched back to his car.
    When Mr
Bennet climbed up into the apple loft, he wasn’t quite sure how to tackle Sam.
    ‘What
did the policeman want, Dad?’ asked Carrot, while Sam glared at him.
    ‘Well, it’s
a bit difficult to explain,’ said Mr Bennet uneasily. ‘He wants to see you,
Sam.’
    ‘Ah
well,’ said Sam, ‘I’ve bin expectin’ it. They were bound to get me in the end.’
    Mr
Bennet was staggered.
    ‘You
mean, you admit it?’ he said.
    ‘Not
much point in denyin’ it,’ said Sam.
    ‘I
can’t believe it,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘I didn’t think that sort of thing went on
anymore. Not round here anyway.’
    ‘Aw,
there’s thousands of people they never find out about. They won’t shoot me,’
said Sam.
    ‘Well,
you’d better get down to the station,’ said Mr Bennet, very surprised at the
calm way Sam was taking it.
    ‘Thanks
Mr Bennet, I’ll go on my bike,’ said Sam with a wink as he climbed down from
the loft.
    Mr
Bennet was wondering what this last remark had meant when Carrot butted in.
    ‘What’s
wrong, Dad?’ he asked.
    ‘Sam’s
in serious trouble, and he doesn’t seem to realize it.’
    ‘About
Apollo Twelve?’
    ‘I wish
it was,’ said his father. ‘No, a lot of brooms have been stolen and then burnt.
This man Bottle’s got the idea that it’s something to do with witchcraft. You
know, Black.Magic.’
    ‘Black
Magic!’ gasped Carrot, thinking immediately of Catweazle.
    ‘He’s
fairly convinced it’s Sam,’ Mr Bennet went on.
    Carrot’s
mind was in a whirl. What was Catweazle up to now? He had to get up to Castle
Saburac and find out. He waited until his father was busy in another part of
the farm and then slipped away to the woods.
    As he
approached the water tower he saw Catweazle standing by a small bonfire
reciting a complicated spell. Touchwood sat watching from a tree