Lockwood & Co Read Online Free

Maybe he
did
plan to slip away with it, but for some reason was prevented from doing so. As for
where
he is, I think we know the answer to that too.’
    ‘There are two storerooms, George,’ Lockwood said. ‘One’s full-size, the other’s little more than a cupboard: it doesn’t go far back at all. Lucy saw the ghost go inside. There’s plenty of space behind it for a hidden room.’
    George nodded. ‘That’s it, then. That’s where Harold Roach will be.’ He reached wearily for his bag. ‘So let’s get on with it, shall we – before his ghost comes back.’
    Soon afterwards we had assembled in the passage, ready for the final part of the investigation. We’d checked our kit. We had our rapiers, salt-bombs and canisters of iron. We had our chains. We had our explosive magnesium flares that shouldn’t really be used in confined spaces on account of setting fire to things. We had our bags of silver seals to use on the Source when we found it. Yep, we were all sorted, raring to go. Aside, that is, from Lockwood’s continued grogginess, and my sense of overwhelming fear whenever I looked at those storeroom doors. I remembered that little wheedling voice, calling me in.
    George hitched up his belt, which had sagged slightly under his tummy. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘You’re clearly not up to this, Lockwood, and Lucy’s understandably edgy after what happened to her out here. So how about I go in first?’
    I looked at him askance. ‘Really? Sure you’re OK with that?’ George isn’t usually the one who leads the way.
    He chuckled. ‘Trust me.’
    ‘Nice and quiet, then, George,’ Lockwood said.
    George raised his rapier. He pulled at the left-hand door – the one to the larger storeroom. It swung slowly open. He aimed his torch inside. His circle of light passed over vacuum cleaners, paper towels, tins of paint . . . everything exactly as before. George stepped into the room. Lockwood and I followed. We were calm, silent and professional, moving with panther-like stealth.
    ‘There,’ George whispered. ‘Nothing to worry about so far.’ He swung his torch to the side, gave a yell like a howler monkey, and leaped back a clear metre, colliding with Lockwood and me. We all careered back into a shelf. There was an almighty crash and splintering as the shelf snapped and we toppled to the ground. Paint tins and toilet rolls bounded and trundled out across the floor.
    We struggled to our feet. Three frantic torches spun light around the room.
    ‘Oh,’ George said. ‘It’s all right. Relax, everyone. It was just a mop.’
    ‘What?’ Lockwood and I both stared at him.
    ‘I thought it was a very thin ghost. But it’s only a mop. Look! It’s got the floppy bit at the top. I ask you. Who does that? Who stores a mop upside-down?’
    ‘George—’ I began.
    ‘Wait!’ Lockwood was staring at the wall. ‘Look at the panelling! It’s floor to ceiling here! Everywhere else in the school it only goes halfway up. Behind this wall is the store cupboard, which we know only goes back a few feet. So these panels would be the perfect place for a hidden door.’
    George frowned. ‘We’ve got crowbars. Let’s smash our way in.’
    ‘Finding the lever or switch would be easier.’ Lockwood placed his hands on the panelling and instantly jerked them away. ‘Ow – it’s cold!’
    Even as he said this, we noticed we could see our breath-plumes again. That’s never a good sign. Nor, to be honest, is the sound of dragging footsteps, or the rattling of keys, both of which I could suddenly hear again, not very far away.
    ‘He’s back,’ I whispered. ‘I can hear him coming.’
    Lockwood was running his fingers along the edges of the panelling. ‘Didn’t take him long,’ he said. ‘OK. George, give me a hand searching the wall. Lucy, do me a favour and just have a quick look in the corridor, would you?’
    I peeped out. In the direction of the library, all was dark. In the direction of the classroom, a