Which could go on Eddie's account.

Jack pushed the door open.

'Eddie,' he called once more, 'where are you? Come on.'

Beyond the doorway was a hallway and beyond this hallway, yet another door. Which is often the case with hallways, especially those that lead from one room to another. Jack pranced down this hallway and knocked upon the door that it led to.

And as there was no answer to his knockings, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. It was the door to the kitchen. Jack peeped in.

The kitchen was a magnificent affair, the kind of kitchen that Great Houses had. And this was indeed a great house. There was a flagstoned floor, a huge central table, ovens and ranges and rows and rows of hanging pots and pans and skillets.

Jack was impressed by this kitchen. 'This kitchen,' said Jack, 'is what I call a kitchen. This is a magnificent kitchen. The kind of kitchen that Great Houses have. And this is indeed a great house. The only thing I don't like about this kitchen, the only thing that really spoils this kitchen for me, is that.'

And Jack stared at the thing that spoiled the kitchen and Jack felt just a little sick. Because on the huge central table lay Madame Goose. She lay as a goose stripped for cooking. Her legs were trussed and her neck had been wrung.

Mother Goose was dead.

‘Jack,' said the voice of Jill, ‘ Jack, what are you doing in the kitchen?' And now Jill's hand was upon Jack's shoulder.

Jack turned and said, 'Go back. Don't come in here.'

'Why not?'

'Something's happened, something bad.'

'Show me, what?' Jill pushed past Jack. 'Oh no,' she said, and she screamed.

'Just go back,' said Jack. 'I'll deal with this.'

'Deal with what'? She's dead, isn't she?'

'Pretty dead,' said Jack, approaching the body on the

table. His heels clacked upon the flagstone floor. Jack's feet were truly back upon the ground.

'This is terrible.'Jill wrung her hands; big tears welled in her eyes. 'Terrible, terrible.'

'I'm sorry,' said Jack, viewing the body. 'I'll get something to cover her body.'

Tin not sorry about her,' said Jill. 'But if she's dead, then I'm out of a job, which is terrible.'

'Right,' said Jack, peering some more at the body. 'Whoever did this must be very strong. Hardly the work of a woman.'

'Woman?' said Jill.

'Eddie thinks...' Jack paused. 'Eddie,' he said. Then, 'Eddie!' he shouted. 'Where are you, Eddie? Are you hiding somewhere?'

No reply gave comfort to Jack's ears.

'Eddie!' shouted Jack.

‘Jack,' said Jill, 'I think you'd better look at this.'

'What?’ Jack asked. And Jill pointed.

The kitchen door was open, but it was towards the doormat that Jill was pointing.

Jack followed the direction of this pointing, and then Jack said, 'Oh no.'

On the doormat lay something which filled Jack with horror.

That something was a large pile of sawdust.

12

'Eddie?' Jack went all weak at the knees. 'Eddie, is that you?'

A gentle breeze entered at the kitchen door and rippled Eddie's innards all about.

'Waaagh!' went Jack. 'Get a dustpan and brush! Gather him up in a bag!'

'Have you gone mad?'Jill asked.

'It's Eddie! My friend! This is dreadful!'

Jack was at the door now and he stared out into an alleyway beyond. Til go after him,' he told Jill. 'I'll try to find the rest of him.'

‘Jack, stop,' said Jill. 'It's a toy. Who cares about a toy?'

'I do,' said Jack. 'He's my friend.'

'You're a bit old for that kind of thing, aren't you?'

'He's my partner,' said Jack.

'Get real,' said Jill. 'It's a toy. Toys don't care for our kind and if you're smart, you won't care for theirs. You can always find yourself another toy bear, if that's the sort of weirdness you're in to.'

'What?'

'No wonder you were so useless in bed.'

'What?'

'Perhaps you'd have preferred it if I'd put a fur coat on.'

'Stop!' cried Jack. 'Stop now! Sweep Eddie's sawdust up and put it in a bag. Then call the police. I'm going after Eddie. I'll be back.'

'Oh yes, sir,' said Jill.

Jack cast her a very stern glance. 'Sweep him up and call the police,' he said.

Jack moved cautiously along the alleyway. There was always the chance that the murderer might still be lurking there, lying in wait. Ready to pounce.

Sprinkles of sawdust lay here and there amongst discarded refuse. Jack's sunken heart sank deeper. 'Eddie,' he called, throwing caution to the wind that was ruffling Eddie's sprinklings. 'Are you there? Anywhere? Eddie? Eddie!'

The alleyway led out to a street.

Further sprinklings of Eddie led to the pavement kerb.

Beyond this, on the road, were two black skid marks.

'Kidnapped,' said Jack. 'Or,' and he paused, 'or murdered.'

Jack returned with drooping shoulders to the kitchen.

Jill was sitting on the table, casually plucking feathers from a wing of the deceased Madame.

'Stop doing that,' said Jack. 'Did you call the police?'

'They're busy,' said Jill. 'Apparently Little Boy Blue has been murdered. How about that then? Another rich bag of rubbish done away with.'

'You don't really care about anybody, do you?' Jack asked.

'And why should I? Nobody cares about me.'

'I care,' said Jack.

'Of course you don't.' Jill dusted feathers from her delicate fingers. 'You only care about me because I'm the first girl you've ever had sex with.'

'That's not true,' said Jack.

'Then let's see how much you care about me when you get the bill.'

'I don't have time for this.' Jack peered all around and about the kitchen. 'My friend has been kidnapped and I have to find him. There must be some clues here. What would Eddie do?’ Jack paced about in the manner that Eddie had at Humpty Dumpty's apartment. And then Jack recalled that it was actually he, Jack, who had solved the riddle of how Humpty met his grisly end.

'I can do this,' said Jack. 'I can do this.'

'You're a detective then, are you?'

'Sort of,' said Jack. 'Sort of.'

'Oh, sort of, is it? And so what are your deductions, Mr sort-of-detective?'

'Give me a minute,' said Jack, peeping and peering around.

'Give me a break,' said Jill.

Jack made an exasperated face. 'You may not care about anybody or anything,' he said, 'but I do. Someone has injured and taken my friend. And murdered this goose here.'

'And so you're looking for clues?'

'I am,' said Jack.

'Then why are you looking in all the wrong places?'

Jack, who was now under the table, straightened up, striking his head. 'Ouch,' he said. 'And do you know the right places?'

'All the clues you need are staring you in the face. You're just not looking at them properly.'

Jack got to his feet once more and stood, rubbing at his head. 'What are you saying?' he asked.

Jill eased herself down from the table. 'Do you want me to explain it all to you?'

'As if you could,' said Jack.

'I could,' said Jill. 'I could tell you exactly what happened here and give you a description of the person who did it.'

'I'll bet,' said Jack, searching for clues in the breadbin.

'But if you don't want your little teddy bear back, then forget it.'

Jack replaced the lid of the breadbin and turned once more towardsjill. 'Go on then,' he said.

Jill shook her corncob-coloured head. 'Oh no,' she said. 'You owe me money. Quite a lot of money, as it happens. I charge double for virgins.'

'You'll get your money,' said Jack. 'In fact, if you can lead me to Eddie, I'll pay you double your double.'

'He must be losing a lot of sawdust,' said Jill, pointing towards the paper bag which sat beside her on the table, the paper bag which now contained the kitchen-sweepings of Eddie. 'He could be nothing more than a glove puppet soon.'