Paul, George and Ringo looked at John. "You do?"
"Did you remember another legend that tells us where them things are?" Ringo added hopefully.
"I told you, that wouldn't help us," John said. "But that bank with the smashed-up window will."
George frowned. "How?" he sing-songed. "Paul was right; a beast doesn't need to rob a bank."
"Exactly," John told him. "Not unless there's something in there he doesn't want anyone to find. Something we could use to destroy him and that."
Paul's eyes were wide. "Then you think...."
George was still frowning. "I thought them things were hidden in King Richard's time. That bank can't be that old."
"They might have been moved since then or something," Ringo offered.
John nodded. "It can't just be lying in a bank vault, but one of them things has got to be in that building somewhere. That Beast led us right to it!"
Since the coast was clear now, the Beatles made their way out of the patch of trees and back towards the Thames, where that big, old building was located.
"They're not going to just let us in to search," Paul pointed out, as they got nearer.
John grinned. "And when has that ever stopped us?"
Inside the bank, another shift of guards had taken over from the ones that had fallen victim to the Beast yesterday. They were trying to clean up the mess inside when the door opened and John sauntered in as if he owned the place. The other Beatles followed him.
"Morning," Paul said to the guards, because they had all stopped what they were doing to glare at the boys. These guards were the kind of men who didn't care who the Beatles were, and possibly didn't know. All youth were trouble as far as they were concerned.
"Who are you?" one guard demanded. "You're not supposed to be in here."
John, who had begun to search the room for something, not knowing quite what but figuring he'd know it when he saw it, straightened up and turned. "Don't you know? We're Inspectre Basil of Scotland Yard and we've heard complaints from a Beast about this place." He flashed a bright smile that would have charmed anyone with a less stern personality.
The guard shook his head to clear it for a second, and then tried again. "What are you searching for over there? Are you the ones that broke into this place yesterday?"
Paul and Ringo both looked up at this, alarmed. George stopped what he was doing and frowned. But John didn't miss a beat. "Of course we are!" he grinned. "Ah, they guessed it. We've come back to return them other guards' souls; they didn't fit."
"What are you talking about, young man?" demanded the confused guard. "Get over here and explain yourself!"
"John!" George had been feeling the walls of the bank while John was busy talking. He could see a couple of obvious doors that led to some offices and the bank vaults, but the paint had been so scratched up - no doubt by those horrible claws - that he could see a long crack in the wall. A long crack that seemed to have been covered up for years....
John heard George. Pausing only to throw a couple of insults at the guards, he came over. "George?"
George touched the crack in the wall, showing John exactly where it was since he knew John couldn't see it. "I think this might be what we're looking for."
John felt the crack, guided by George's hand, and nodded.
The guards were beginning to recover from their confusion now, and were getting angry again. "Now look here, you lot..."
John turned round. "What, are you going to arrest us for walkin' inside the bank? Do you want us to take your souls with us when we leave?" He said this so mildly that it took the guards a second to realize they should get mad at it.
John reached back and touched the crack in the wall. "I suppose you lot know something about this. It's been here since King Richard's time, you know." With that, he pressed back on it, hard. And what happened next was exactly what he had expected. A large panel of wall slid back, revealing a space just big enough for one fairly slim person to slip through.
The guards hadn't understood a thing that had happened, though, and now they just stood there, dumbfounded. John gave them a bright smile and a wave, and slipped through the crack into the passage inside.
George, Paul, and Ringo all made to follow him. But John wasn't there anymore to confuse the guards so they wouldn't know what the Beatles were doing. Now the guards reached out to grab the remaining Fabs. And as they dashed forward, trying to join their bandleader before the guards could stop them, the panel suddenly emitted a grinding noise and closed on its own.
Paul, Ringo, and George changed direction with the speed of lightning and got outside as fast as their feet could carry them, not waiting around to get arrested or anything like that. They ran all the way down the street, before doubling back and coming to the back of the bank, where hopefully the guards wouldn't spot them and would have stopped looking for those troublesome young lads.
It was a good thing the Beatles were used to running, because they were doing quite a bit of it today. The threesome sat down under a tree to relax. But that wasn't easy, knowing that John was in there all alone, dealing with they-didn't-even-know-what.
Ringo looked over at the other two. "He'll be all right, won't he?"
Paul bit his lip. "Yeah." After a pause, "I hope so."
George looked up at them. "If there's anything in there that can he can insult or confuse," he said, "Johnny will be fine."
"Did you remember another legend that tells us where them things are?" Ringo added hopefully.
"I told you, that wouldn't help us," John said. "But that bank with the smashed-up window will."
George frowned. "How?" he sing-songed. "Paul was right; a beast doesn't need to rob a bank."
"Exactly," John told him. "Not unless there's something in there he doesn't want anyone to find. Something we could use to destroy him and that."
Paul's eyes were wide. "Then you think...."
George was still frowning. "I thought them things were hidden in King Richard's time. That bank can't be that old."
"They might have been moved since then or something," Ringo offered.
John nodded. "It can't just be lying in a bank vault, but one of them things has got to be in that building somewhere. That Beast led us right to it!"
Since the coast was clear now, the Beatles made their way out of the patch of trees and back towards the Thames, where that big, old building was located.
"They're not going to just let us in to search," Paul pointed out, as they got nearer.
John grinned. "And when has that ever stopped us?"
Inside the bank, another shift of guards had taken over from the ones that had fallen victim to the Beast yesterday. They were trying to clean up the mess inside when the door opened and John sauntered in as if he owned the place. The other Beatles followed him.
"Morning," Paul said to the guards, because they had all stopped what they were doing to glare at the boys. These guards were the kind of men who didn't care who the Beatles were, and possibly didn't know. All youth were trouble as far as they were concerned.
"Who are you?" one guard demanded. "You're not supposed to be in here."
John, who had begun to search the room for something, not knowing quite what but figuring he'd know it when he saw it, straightened up and turned. "Don't you know? We're Inspectre Basil of Scotland Yard and we've heard complaints from a Beast about this place." He flashed a bright smile that would have charmed anyone with a less stern personality.
The guard shook his head to clear it for a second, and then tried again. "What are you searching for over there? Are you the ones that broke into this place yesterday?"
Paul and Ringo both looked up at this, alarmed. George stopped what he was doing and frowned. But John didn't miss a beat. "Of course we are!" he grinned. "Ah, they guessed it. We've come back to return them other guards' souls; they didn't fit."
"What are you talking about, young man?" demanded the confused guard. "Get over here and explain yourself!"
"John!" George had been feeling the walls of the bank while John was busy talking. He could see a couple of obvious doors that led to some offices and the bank vaults, but the paint had been so scratched up - no doubt by those horrible claws - that he could see a long crack in the wall. A long crack that seemed to have been covered up for years....
John heard George. Pausing only to throw a couple of insults at the guards, he came over. "George?"
George touched the crack in the wall, showing John exactly where it was since he knew John couldn't see it. "I think this might be what we're looking for."
John felt the crack, guided by George's hand, and nodded.
The guards were beginning to recover from their confusion now, and were getting angry again. "Now look here, you lot..."
John turned round. "What, are you going to arrest us for walkin' inside the bank? Do you want us to take your souls with us when we leave?" He said this so mildly that it took the guards a second to realize they should get mad at it.
John reached back and touched the crack in the wall. "I suppose you lot know something about this. It's been here since King Richard's time, you know." With that, he pressed back on it, hard. And what happened next was exactly what he had expected. A large panel of wall slid back, revealing a space just big enough for one fairly slim person to slip through.
The guards hadn't understood a thing that had happened, though, and now they just stood there, dumbfounded. John gave them a bright smile and a wave, and slipped through the crack into the passage inside.
George, Paul, and Ringo all made to follow him. But John wasn't there anymore to confuse the guards so they wouldn't know what the Beatles were doing. Now the guards reached out to grab the remaining Fabs. And as they dashed forward, trying to join their bandleader before the guards could stop them, the panel suddenly emitted a grinding noise and closed on its own.
Paul, Ringo, and George changed direction with the speed of lightning and got outside as fast as their feet could carry them, not waiting around to get arrested or anything like that. They ran all the way down the street, before doubling back and coming to the back of the bank, where hopefully the guards wouldn't spot them and would have stopped looking for those troublesome young lads.
It was a good thing the Beatles were used to running, because they were doing quite a bit of it today. The threesome sat down under a tree to relax. But that wasn't easy, knowing that John was in there all alone, dealing with they-didn't-even-know-what.
Ringo looked over at the other two. "He'll be all right, won't he?"
Paul bit his lip. "Yeah." After a pause, "I hope so."
George looked up at them. "If there's anything in there that can he can insult or confuse," he said, "Johnny will be fine."