Free Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London by Keith Mansfield

Hill?” Louise said, laughing. “That’s not very bright is it?”
    â€œWhy’s that?” Johnny asked, looking beyond the girl and toward the village. “It seems OK here.”
    â€œOK? Are you stupid? Kids run away
from
here. If they don’t the pigs take them,” Louise said. “And if you hadn’t met me you were heading right for them.”
    â€œThe pigs?” Johnny didn’t understand and he hated being called stupid.
    â€œI don’t know. That’s what we call them. Pigs in suits.”
    â€œPigs in suits?” Johnny asked, wishing the girl would make it a bit clearer.
    â€œS’pose it’s from the name,” Louise said. “Proteus Institute for the Gifted—for the unlucky more like.”
    The penny dropped. “That’s where I’m going,” Johnny said. “My sister’s there.”
    â€œHow do you know? No one knows what goes on there,” said Louise through a very narrow mouth.
    â€œTrust me, I know,” Johnny said. “And I’ve got to find her.” Johnny hitched his bag back over his shoulder, about to set off.
    â€œYou mustn’t—it’s dangerous,” Louise said. “We’re already too far out. I’m going back to town.”
    â€œGo if you’re scared,” said Johnny. In his experience no one was prepared to admit to that and he could do with a local guide.
    â€œI am scared and you should be too. Come on, Rusty,” Louise said. She turned and started walking down the hill, with the setter at her side.
    â€œWhat are we going to do now, Bents?” said Johnny and to his surprise Bentley turned and started barking in the direction of Rusty. Even more to his surprise, Rusty stopped in her tracks and turned and sprinted back up the hill to Johnny and Bentley. “Nice one, Bents,” Johnny said to his sheepdog. “Come on then.” Johnny started walking up the hill, now with two dogs in tow.
    â€œRusty!” Louise was clearly desperate, but the setter ignored her as she pattered alongside Bentley. “Rusty! Heel!” Louise tried again, but Rusty just kept skipping away from her. Johnny heard footsteps coming up behind but didn’t turn round. Louise caught him up.
    â€œYour dog’s braver than you,” Johnny said to Louise, who looked terrified.
    â€œI can’t leave her,” she replied. “Pigs don’t like dogs, butthey’ll take me if I’m not with her. It happened to Peter.”
    â€œWho’s Peter?” Johnny asked.
    â€œMy neighbor. He disappeared last month. He was stupid and went out without his dog—I told him not to.”
    â€œWell I’ll find Clara and you can find Peter,” said Johnny. “At least let’s have a look.”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” Louise said. “This isn’t some silly boy’s game. At least let’s get under some cover—I’ll be amazed if they’ve not seen us already.”
    The foursome—two children and two dogs—moved to the edge of the field and underneath the protection of some trees. They walked along one of the hedgerows and up to the brow of the hill. As they neared the very top Louise pulled Johnny down and they crawled the final few feet on all fours, mirroring the dogs beside them. From the summit they peered down into the valley below. Johnny had seen this sight before, albeit from the vantage point of the main road running beneath them, empty now apart from a black taxi parked in a lay-by.
    The Proteus Institute for the Gifted stood impressively in manicured grounds. It was a four-story, redbrick Victorian building with a large square central tower, all set above some weathered steps cut into the hillside on the opposite side of the valley. There were greenhouses to the left of the main school buildings, around which were patches of vibrant reds and blues from flowers in bloom. A treelined drive