The Case of the Wayward Professor Read Free

the living room. He kept a blue roller blind pulled down in the study window, so Dirk couldn’t see inside.
    Today was Friday and Dirk was expecting the same, so it came as a surprise when at half past five instead of grabbing his coat, the professor remained at his desk, staying there another hour until everyone had left the building and the sun had gone down, then slipping out of a side door. Instead of his usual briefcase, he carried a large silver case, and rather than walking to the station he hailed a black cab.
    The sky was dark, the air, cold and moist. Dirk moved to the edge of the building, spread his wings and glided to the next rooftop, landing into a forward roll then springing up again. He followed the taxi to the outskirts of the financial district, where the buildings looked older and grubbier. It stopped by a disused redbrick hospital, which had worn brickwork and smashed and boarded-up windows. Dirk landed on the roof and peered over the edge.
    Professor Rosenfield paid the taxi driver and watched him drive away. A man at the other end of the road was selling watermelons outside a nearby mosque. Rosenfield glanced round then slipped inside the old hospital.
    Dirk found a door on the roof, shouldered it open and entered, pulling it shut with his tail and following a flight of stairs down.
    He moved quickly and silently through the gloomy building, stealthily slipping down the corridors, listening for footsteps. Dirk wasn’t easily scared but there was something spooky about the old, dark and deserted hospital corridors.
    He heard the professor’s voice coming from the floor below.
    â€˜Hello?’ he said. ‘Is there anyone here?’
    Dirk noticed a light coming from a hole in the floor. He crouched down and put his eye to it. He could see Professor Rosenfield enter what looked like an old operating theatre, carrying a torch. He looked nervous.
    â€˜Hello?’ said Rosenfield again. ‘Are you … Are you there?’
    â€˜Do not come any further,’ said a deep baritone voice. Dirk couldn’t see who it belonged to.
    â€˜I can’t see you,’ said the professor.
    â€˜That’s the idea,’ replied the voice. ‘Is that it?’
    â€˜Oh yes, yes. This is it.’ He held up the silver case.
    â€˜And you are sure no one suspects anything?’
    â€˜Positive. The AOG project is top secret, but I can’t see what use it is to you. I told you, I can enter coordinates, but you can’t operate it without …’
    The deep voice interrupted him. ‘This is not your concern, professor.’
    â€˜What about your side of the bargain?’ asked the professor.
    â€˜It’s in the parcel,’ said the gravelly voice.
    The professor walked to the middle of the room, where he picked up a brown parcel.
    â€˜Open it,’ said the voice.
    The professor did so excitedly like a child opening a Christmas present. Dirk couldn’t see what was inside, but he saw the professor’s face light up and a tear form in the corner of his eye. ‘My goodness,’ he gasped. ‘Is it real?’
    â€˜Yes, and there’ll be more once you have reprogrammed the machine. The coordinates are also in there.’
    The professor looked up vacantly then blinked and said, ‘This is very marvellous.’
    â€˜Thank you, Professor Rosenfield. Now go home and I will contact you shortly with details of where you should go next,’ said the voice. ‘Please make sure that no one knows of this.’
    â€˜Gosh, no.’
    Rosenfield tucked the parcel under his arm, picked up the silver case and left the room.
    Dirk kept his eye on the room below, wanting to catch a glimpse of the owner of the deep voice. Heshifted slightly to get a better view, waiting for him to step into sight, but no one appeared. He heard a noise and raised his head, but not quickly enough. A sharp pain shot through his skull and he slumped on the ground,