The Strange Affair of Spring Heeled Jack - Mark Hodder [61]
"Talking orang-?" began Burton.
"Captain Burton!" interrupted a distant shout. Detective Inspector Trounce.
The chopping of Kapoor's rotorchair was close now. Jack looked up through the canopy of leaves overhead.
"The mist has cleared and the sun is high enough. I should be able to recharge."
"Charge at what? You're speaking in riddles, man!" barked the king's agent.
"Time to go," muttered Jack, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Time to go!"
Burton leaped at him but Jack sidestepped swiftly and the explorer crashed past, landing in a tangle of roots. He rolled to his feet just as Jack flashed by and made off into the trees.
"Bloody hell!" cursed Burton, and set off in pursuit.
Despite having to duck under low branches, his quarry moved fast, taking long loping strides, while Burton was hampered by projecting roots, tangled vines, and his own exhaustion. He managed to keep up until Jack burst out of the trees onto the golf course some way north of where the police and townsfolk were milling about; there Jack started to bound ahead on his spring-loaded stilts.
A police whistle blew and a roar went up from the crowd, which, waving makeshift weapons, surged after the strangely costumed man.
Burton stopped and watched, puzzled.
Rather than running away, Spring Heeled Jack seemed to be circling the golf course, almost as if he were toying with his pursuers. Only Constable Kapoor, in his rotorchair, could keep pace with him, but there was little he could do but follow.
"What the devil are you playing at?" muttered Burton, as Jack, who'd receded into the distance, turned southward and hopped along the edge of the course before then changing direction to race northeastward, back toward Burton, who stood on the border of the wood.
The king's agent ran out to intercept him only to have Jack spring a clear fifteen feet over his head.
"Stay out of it, Burton!" shouted the stilt-man.
He took six long bounds, then suddenly launched himself high into the air until, twenty feet up, and just in front of Kapoor's rotorchair, he vanished.
Burton had the impression of some sort of bubble momentarily forming around Jack, its edge touching the front of the flying machine. When it, and the stilt-man, disappeared, so did part of the vehicle.
The rotorchair flew apart and, leaving a spiralling ribbon of steam behind it, plunged to the ground, which it hit with an appalling crash. The boiler exploded and pieces of metal went spinning into the air.
From different directions, Burton, Trounce, and a number of constables ran over to the wreckage.
Constable Kapoor's broken body dangled from the upside-down seat, his expression frozen in shock, blood streaming from his torn flesh down his neck, across his face, over his motionless eyes, and into his hair, from whence it dribbled onto the ripped turf.
"God damn it," breathed Detective Inspector Trounce, leaning with both hands upon his cane. "He was going to be promoted next week."
He stood deep in thought for a moment then shook himself and spoke to a nearby constable.
"Bennett, fetch Sergeant Piper, would you?"
The constable nodded and moved away.
"What the blazes is that thing, Captain Burton?" asked Trounce.
"A man, of that I'm certain," responded the famous explorer. "And a madman, at that."
"The same as I saw at the assassination?"
"It can't be-he didn't appear old enough."
"Great heavens, this is too bizarre! What happened in the woods?"
"He spoke nonsense; said I was a Victorian."
"What's that?"
"I haven't the vaguest idea, though it's fair to assume it has something to do with the late queen. He said that if we stop him doing what he needs to do, everything will stay this way, and what he needs to do is `restore."'
"Restore what?"
"`Myself. You. Everything,' whatever that means. Then he mentioned talking orangutans and said he had to charge at something again."
Trounce shrugged. "None of it makes any sense! It's the ravings of a lunatic!"
"I don't disagree," said Burton.
Trounce turned to