A shaft of morning light fell across the office of Penderry's Bizarre, but the rays did little to warm those assembled in the reporting room. Jim pressed a metal tack into the world map, pinning it to the board.

Regret weighed on him. He and Westman had told McKusky they'd protect the witnesses involved. And now Bunny was in trouble because of him. He'd led the werewolves straight to their prey, for heaven's sake. All because he'd been too focused on flattering her with a valentine.

One balloon crash after another.

Well, now he'd truly endangered a girl's life. Two girls, in fact.

Westman sat on the edge of his desk between a stack of papers and a half-melted candle. He watched Jim arrange the evidence on the wall. Everything they knew about the werewolf attacks and the abduction hung in front of them. Blinks rubbed his hands, trying to put some feeling back into his fingers. The building was deathly cold at this time of year.

"Thank you for coming, everyone," said Jim.

Appleby had joined them, along with Millicent Sinclair who'd agreed to provide a psychic reading. The question was Bunny's precise location, and if she and her companion were alive. In light of the abduction, he'd also invited McKusky to the office. The park ranger, clad in a bulky great coat, took up residence at a spare desk and surveyed the board.

"So this is the state of affairs?" asked McKusky. "Two girls kidnapped, taken abroad, and heading into a world of trouble."

"That's about the size of it, yes."

"How many werewolves are we talking about?"

"It's hard to say, but according to Mr Spencer, here, around a dozen attacked his brother's camp in India."

McKusky raised an eyebrow. "Taken by surprise, I assume. Listen, I spoke with my acquaintances and they've agreed to fund the rescue. Whatever you need for this expedition, name it."

"I'm much obliged to you." Jim retrieved a sheet of paper from a drawer. "We'll put together a list of supplies. I plan to leave as soon as possible. There's a steamer departing tomorrow morning."

"Alright. I strongly suggest we enlist the help of the British army once we're over there, if there are any willing survivors at the camp."

We?

McKusky was volunteering to join him on the trip?

Jim smiled. "I quite agree. We'll get a telegram to them ahead of our arrival, to let them know what's happened. The journey to Bombay will take the best part of four weeks. We should have ample time to make plans."

At that moment, the office door opened and Uncle Broom sailed in, wires and spring-loaded clips sprouting from his head. Sophie trotted behind him, looking apologetic.

"I came as soon as I heard," said Broom. "Have no fear, my dear boy, we will find the missing ladies in question." He dropped a battery pack and control system on Westman's desk and turned to face the room. "Switch me on, Mr Westman. You're nearest."

Westman drew his eyebrows and uncrossed his arms. Reluctantly, he flicked the lever powering the wires. Broom's hair stood on end, and he closed his eyes, humming in concentration.

Conscious of the stares, Jim went to his uncle and leaned close to his ear. "Er, what are you doing?"

Broom pressed his fingers to his temples. "I am unlocking the secrets of the subconscious mind, following the threads which connect us all, and reaching out into the abyss of the cosmos to find the answers we seek. Oh, oh, I'm getting something. Stand by, stand by."

McKusky frowned and Jim offered an awkward chuckle.

Broom clapped his hands to his head. "The missing girls. They've been taken."

"Yes, we know that," muttered Jim.

With conviction, Broom declared, "Taken to the island of Bora Bora!"

Jim shook his head and switched off the machine. "Uncle Broom. The girls have been taken to India."

Broom stared at him blankly, then plucked off the clips. "Well, why didn't you say so earlier? I rushed over here to assist, and my help isn't even required."

"You can still help. Westman needs someone to look after Jack while we're away."

"The dog?" spluttered Broom.

Millicent joined Jim in front of the evidence board and murmured, "Perhaps your uncle should leave soothsaying to the experts. Intuition doesn't answer to electricity. Clairvoyance is simply seeing with the soul."

Jim turned to her. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Millie. Do go on. What can you tell us?"

She studied the map, her brow creasing in concentration. "It would be easier if I had an item belonging to one of the missing girls. Something to strengthen a connection."

He slipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew Bunny's handkerchief. "Will this do? It's Miss Spencer's handkerchief."

She eyed the scrap of cotton and lifted an eyebrow. "A maiden's favour?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I consider Miss Spencer a friend if that's what you mean. And look here." He indicated to the dried brown specks on the handkerchief. "Mr Singh's blood."

"The abductor's blood?" She took the handkerchief from his hand and closed her eyes. "I sense Miss Spencer is unharmed. Travelling over water. They're bound for India as her uncle says. A northern province."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Which province?"

She opened her eyes and raised a finger to the map. "Somewhere around here. A princely state. And I see something else. The words Chandni Mahal."

"What is that? The state?"

"I'm not sure."

Sophie and Westman joined them.

"Mahal means palace," said Sophie. "Like the famous Taj Mahal."

Jim smiled. "You see, everyone? Sophie was blessed with the brains and all I got was wit, charm and beauty."

Sophie was used to his daft behaviour, but sighed nonetheless. "I'm not entirely certain that is a compliment, brother."

"Of course it is," said Millicent. "He excels at complimenting himself."

"Well, someone has to," he replied. "Nobody else ever has a nice thing to say about me."

He directed the remark chiefly at Westman. Usually, banter with his family and friends buoyed his spirits, but not today. A gloomy hollow in his core kept sucking away the cheer.

Westman studied the evidence. "This goes beyond the usual field work for the magazine, you do realise? The expedition you're planning is damn well dangerous."

Jim exhaled and nodded. "You're right. But the girls need us. And I'm afraid I may be responsible for leading Singh to Miss Spencer's home last night."

Westman looked at him sharply. "What? How?"

"When you threw him into the bushes, he hit his head, and I offered him a handkerchief for the graze. Miss Spencer's handkerchief. He asked who it belonged to, said the scent was familiar. It was freshly washed. But I suppose a werewolf's heightened sense of smell can detect the faintest trace. I should have noticed something amiss, but I put it down to a concussion. Lord, he even agreed I should return the handkerchief promptly. I had no idea he would follow me."

"But how could he know the handkerchief would lead him to Anju?"

Jim gestured to his case notes pinned on the corkboard. "His assistant at the science fair, Mr Gupta. Do you recall his injury?"

"The gentleman with an arm sling?"

"Yes. Or to be precise, the werewolf I shot in Hyde Park. He recognised me and must have informed Singh afterwards. That explains why he accepted my grandmother's invitation to the party. To follow the only lead he had to locating Anju."

"It makes sense now," said Westman.

Sophie put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Perhaps you inherited a few of those brains after all."

He snorted quietly. "I was awake all night trying to solve the puzzle. Listen, Freddie, you're right. This will be dangerous, and not just because of the werewolves we're facing. There will be the sea voyage, then the perils of the Indian subcontinent. Poisonous snakes and insects, wild big cats, intense heat, and the risk of fever. I'll understand if you don't want to come along."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm coming. Now, let's get started on a plan to save your Lady Valentine, shall we?"