50 The Truth

Chapter 50 The Truth As Mum, Dad, Leo and Doodle disappeared through the hatch, something caught Peanut's eye. It was The Scream, Edvard Munch's 1893 masterpiece in oils, leaning against the wall. Mr White had stolen it from the National Gallery in Oslo several months earlier. And then it began. Slowly, silently, a figure emerged from behind the painting. They were wearing a suit, shirt and tie so white that they appeared to be made of actual light. On top of their head was a similarly dazzling fedora, pulled down low over their eyes. The agonised face in Munch's painting was a perfect reflection of the children's feelings in that moment. 'M-M-Mr White?' stammered Rockwell. 'B-b-but you're

stuck in plaster down in the lake. You're... you're... Mr Stone. I-I-I just saw you!' The gleaming figure carefully put down the walkie-talkie they were holding and then, with a surprising burst of speed and purpose, reached into their jacket pocket. Peanut, sensing danger, pulled the spray can from her bandolier as fast as she could and aimed it at the figure. But she was too slow. White was the faster gunslinger. By the time Peanut's finger had found the button on the can's nozzle, White had already taken Little Tail from their pocket and, with a flick of a wrist, used the eraser to rub out a tiny section of an almost-invisible graphite line that stretched from the floor to the highest point of the ceiling. Instantly, a large pencil-drawn cage plummeted to the ground, trapping the helpless Peanut, Little-Bit and Rockwell. 'HA!' shouted a gleeful 67. ' It has happened again! We managed to get you humans right where we wanted you! You were standing in exactly the right place! Honestly, this is far too easy. Not missing a beat, White rushed over to the hatch in the floor and slid the cast-iron bolt across, locking it. Then they turned to face the caged children and smiled. The room was silent for a good ten seconds, before a shell-shocked Peanut eventually spoke. ' I... I don't understand,' she said to White, her voice

shaking and confused. 'If... if... if you're not Mr Stone, then who are you?' White tucked the pencil back into their inside jacket pocket, raised a gloved hand and pushed back the brim of the fedora. Then they tilted their face upwards towards the light and looked directly at Peanut. Eventually, they said the two words that revealed the truth—a truth that, unbeknownst to her, had been staring Peanut in the face for a very long time.

'Hiya, lovely.'