Tunnels 03, Freefall

him," the curator said categorically, then narrowed his eyes as if he was becoming suspicious. "And can I ask you, sir, how you come to be so knowledgeable about my volunteers when I've never met you before?"
    "I was..." Dr. Burrows began, but was interrupted by Will, who coughed loudly to warn his father not to say any more. "... I helped out your predecessor when he was here and, er, got to know him well."
    "Ah, that would be Dr...." the curator said, then frowned as he grasped for the name. "Bellows or Bustows, or something like that."
    "Burrows, Dr. Burrows," Dr. Burrows snapped.
    "Yes, that's it. I assume you know the poor chap went missing -- it was before I took over the reins here so I've no idea what he was like."
    "A very impressive man," Dr. Burrows said tersely. "And now, I regret to say, we have to be on our way."
    "Are you sure I can't give you a quick tour round the new exhibits."
    "Maybe another time. Thank you anyway, and good luck with your plans," Dr. Burrows said as he turned smartly. He was muttering to himself and it wasn't until he was outside that he really began to let loose.
    "Interactive! Bah! That young just-out-of-university novice will burn thousands of pounds, and all for bloody nothing. Then the museum will run short of funds and probably be closed down, and my collection will be moth-balled for all eternity." He stamped his foot no the pavement with such force that it echoed across the road.
    "Day, just cool it, will you?" Will urged him, concerned that his father's behavior was attracting unwanted attention. "I know why you were asking about Oscar Embers," he said, attempting to distract his father by getting him on a new tack. "It is really weird that the curator hasn't heard of him. He was always hanging around, wasn't he?"
    "Yes," Dr. Burrows agreed, "very strange."
    "So that twin was probably telling the truth about him being a Styx agent, and we should get the hell out of here. I tell you -- we're not safe in Highfield."
    Dr. Burrows pursed his lips thoughtfully and suddenly stuck his finger in the air. "I know! Oscar must have died, before that new bloke took over," he declared cheerfully. "After all, Oscar was no spring chicken! And there's only one way to find out if that's what happened."
    "How?" Will tried to ask, but his father strode off at full speed again.
    They passed up the High Street, pausing outside a shop that was in the process of being gutted by a team of builders. Dr. Burrows surveyed the old green-painted shelves, which had been torn out and piled on the pavement in front of the shop.
    "Clarke's has gone. Is nothing sacred?" he said, referring to the old fruit and veg shop that had been there since anyone could remember. "That's the bloody supermarkets for you!" he fumed. Will guessed immediately there was more to the shop's closure than that. He was on the point of telling his father about the Clarke brothers' special relationship with the Colony, but decided against it. Dr. Burrows was having a hard enough time coping with what he already knew -- Will didn't want to make it any more complicated for him.
    Turning off the High Street, they marched past the old convent and very shortly came to
    Gladstone Street
    where Dr. Burrows paused in front of a row of almshouses.
    "What are we doing here, Dad?" Will asked.
    "Checking out facts," Dr. Burrows replied, as he advanced towards a narrow alleyway between two of the small houses. He seemed to know exactly where he was going as he disappeared into the darkness. Will followed a few paces behind, anxious that he couldn't see anything at all around him. He slowed for a second as his foot clipped an empty milk bottle, sending it rattling over the cobbles.
    As he emerged into light again, Will saw that on either side the alley was bordered by garden walls, and that it was sealed off at the end by an old factory building with tall windows. There seemed to be no other way in or out of the alley except the way they'd entered. Will couldn't for the life of him think why his father was interested in this place. Then Dr. Burrows went up to the wall on their right and peered over it.
    "Who lives here?" Will inquired, joining his father at the wall and looking at the unkempt garden. A plump cat padded over the patchy grass, carefully avoiding the numerous plastic bowls of filthy water which seemed to be everywhere. Then Will remembered what he had read in his father's journal which he and Chester had found all those months