Fourth Bear Read Free Page B

suspicion within the community that the regular force wasn’t taking their concerns seriously.
     
    “Of course,” replied Mary confidently. “Only two months ago we successfully detained a ghoulie, a ghostie and a long-legged beastie.”
     
    “And the bump in the night?” asked Mr. Hoffman anxiously.
     
    “What about that?”
     
    “Ah,” returned Mary, scratching her chin thoughtfully, “no, the bump got away—but I’m sure you would agree a seventy-five percent success rate in that particular operation was a very good result indeed.”
     
     
     
    Constables Charlie Baker and Gretel Brown-Horrocks were waiting in the back garden, covering the house from the potting shed in case the Scissor-man came from that direction. Unlike Ashley, Mary and Jack, Baker and Gretel were occasional members of the NCD, brought in only when the need arose. Baker had been designated a D-minus in “public social skills” owing to his acute hypochondria and was used only for internal duties within the Reading Central police station.
     
    “Want some Vicks?” he said to Gretel, offering her the small bottle after trying in a most noisy and unpleasant fashion to clear his sinuses, which seemed to be incessantly blocked with possibly the finest cold viruses that natural selection had managed to create.
     
    “No thanks,” replied Gretel in her soft German accent. Her skills in forensic accountancy kept her much in demand, not only in Reading but throughout most of the Berks & Wilts constabulary. NCD work was meant to “get her out more.” She was glad that it did. At the end of the Humpty affair, she had met the man who was now her husband. He was seven foot three, and she was six foot two and a quarter. It was a match made perhaps not in heaven but certainly nearer the ceiling.
     
    “Do you have to sniffle constantly?” she asked him.
     
    “The sniffling’s nothing, ” replied Baker. “Do you want to see my rash?”
     
    “You showed it to me already.”
     
    “That was a tiddler. This new one covers two-thirds of my body and has raised pimples.”
     
    “It does not.”
     
    “It does so—or it will soon, if my diagnosis is correct. What’s the time?”
     
    “One minute to go. We keep our eyes open—and for God’s sake stop that sniffling. ”
     
    Baker made one great big huge supersniffle that drew everything swilling around his lower sinuses into the space between his eyes, where gravity, being the force it was, would ensure that it would not stay for long.
     
     
     
    Back inside the house, Mary counted off the seconds on her watch. At five seconds to go, she keyed the mike on her walkie-talkie and said, “Thumb reentry T minus five seconds.”
     
    After consulting her watch for those last five seconds, she climbed into the closet, shut the door to nothing more than a crack and signaled to the Hoffmans. They nodded sagely and began the routine they had rehearsed down the road at the supermarket, where the Scissor-man had no influence.
     
    Mr. Hoffman, in an overly dramatic fashion, said, “We’re going to leave you here to finish your soup on your own, Conrad. Don’t play with those matches, don’t lean back on your chair, and don’t you dare suck your thumb when our backs are turned!”
     
    They sighed, walked out of the kitchen and closed the door behind them. Conrad was now alone in the kitchen, with only Mary watching through a crack in the closet door. He stared at his thumb for a moment, having never even contemplated sucking it—not since he was first warned about the Scissor-man. His father had a missing thumb to prove it, and Conrad was always careful to avoid getting his thumb anywhere near his mouth, just in case the Scissor-man should make a mistake.
     
    He paused for a moment, thumb outstretched, and looked at Mary again. She nodded to him and smiled. If they were to catch the Scissor-man, this was the only way. After wavering for a few more seconds, Conrad opened his mouth, and