Chapter 36 – The DLRM
The members of the Decency League for the Removal of Magic began assembling at seven o'clock at the home of Flora Higginbottom, one of the oldest and most active members, also one of the wealthiest. She had lost more than any of them and was determined that no family would ever have to face such devastating losses again. She was both the President and the main sponsor of the Direstium production factory, giving part of her warehouse premises over without counting the cost. Others made similarly generous donations of time, money and expertise in the fight against the terrible infections of magic that took their children from them!
For years she had tried to do something about getting rid of magic but for years she had been ignored until one day she met a like-minded one of them. He had been so hurt and angry and wanted to do something to strike a blow for like-minded people. They had both consulted time and again until he discovered a dirty little secret they were trying to keep. After a thorough investigation, he had laid a proposition before her. He would show her a way of revenging herself against all wizarding kind, if she had the courage and was willing to pay the price.
Oh, there had been stumbling blocks and setbacks along the way especially when some of the people they tried to help literally turned on them and accused them of terrible things. There were even occasional deaths, but as he said, not everyone could be made into a productive member of society, and better dead than one of them! 'You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs!' But now they had a perfect and subtle weapon that would eventually eliminate all magic from every country on the face of the earth for ever! After all, if no-one developed the infection then they could not breed and create more of the infected ones.
Now that the plan was in full motion she felt she had the right to feel a little pleased with herself as she prepared for the monthly meeting of the DLRM, as she liked to call it. As they managed to heal more infections she hoped to take the good fight to other parts of the country and open more branches of the organisation but that was a dream for the future. When she was feeling on top of the world, she even speculated that she could take her cure to every corner of the world! Free everyone from the fear and cruelty of the magical infestations that occurred everywhere.
Laying the refreshments table with sandwiches and little cakes, she had the tea tray laid and the chairs set out for the meeting, all ready for six thirty so that she wouldn't be late. Being the hostess it was important to make sure proper standards were maintained at all points. It wouldn't do to be less than genteel even though one or two of the members were not of the same social standing as she. Still - she sniffed to herself - that more or less confirmed that the infection was no respecter of class boundaries or breeding.
The first of her guests arrived at seven exactly, giving the correct knock and reply to the question she asked. Mr Henry and Mrs Emily Mergeson were always a little early to arrive, Emily bringing a very light Victoria Sponge cake and Henry bringing a cheque for four hundred pounds. They always brought a good sum collected from friends, relatives and customers at their small shop in Bristol. Flora wasn't sure that the contributors knew what they were contributing to but they always gave with a generous hand. Emily was the secretary and always took the minutes most meticulously. Henry was the treasurer and very good at it indeed, being an accountant.
By the time everyone except Gilbert Nelson had arrived, the large sitting room was quite packed and the light supper had been bolstered by many contributions as usual. Everyone brought a plate as Flora felt it bonded them closer together to share food and drink. Her father always said, make sure they are well fed and watered before starting any serious business and you will have their attention and their cooperation. And of course, Father was always right! Once everyone was seated on the assortment of chairs in the formal sitting room the meeting was brought to order and Emily recapped the minutes from the previous meeting before Henry gave his financial report which was always awaited eagerly.
Every month at their meetings everyone competed for a little prize to see who had raised the most money that month. Whoever won it more than three times in a year received a nice little gold pin with a lucky horseshoe on it to keep the nasty little magical creatures away. Laura Henderson won the prize for the largest donation of the month, this month with her contribution of almost one thousand pounds, a huge effort. Even little Joshua Ransom made his contribution, having collected money from his scout group to help his older sister who was 'taking the cure'. Everyone clapped him for his effort, which brought the monthly contributions up to a very healthy three thousand seven hundred pounds!
As President Flora Higginbottom brought the meeting to order and asked if there was anything to report? Jim Smith stood up and rattled his notes self-importantly.
"We have a problem at the ward," he reported grimly. "There was a terrible raid two days ago and our facility was destroyed, the patients taken away and the records confiscated," he said self-importantly.
The hubbub of raised voices drowned out anything he had to say, one or two people rising as if to flee. Flora stood up and banged the gavel for silence which came reluctantly. "That is quite enough of that! You all know how dangerous our work is. If it was not so important people would not try to stop us. If our facility has been destroyed then we must create a new facility to replace it. We have the funds as Henry has just told us so that is not a problem. If we have to, I will purchase new premises for our ward and we can continue the good fight. We cannot afford to stop at the first hiccough or all our previous efforts will have been in vain," she admonished them again. "Please, carry on with your report, Jim."
"Thank you, Mrs Higginbottom. Although the facility was destroyed, our last load of distillation was safely delivered to the distribution point with no trouble at all. So, even if we cannot produce more for the next three weeks, we will have no problem keeping up our present level of medication. Gilbert assured me he would introduce the distillation into the mixture this morning."
"Where is Gilbert, by the way?" Henry Mergeson asked, glancing around uneasily.
"He had a meeting with one of them this morning at nine so perhaps it went longer than he thought," Andrea Gardener, a faithful contributor muttered, counting off her worry beads diligently. "And just as an aside at this point, my youngest niece fell down the stairs last night and ended up standing at the bottom on her own two feet without a single bruise. I think she is infected too so I went straight out and bought some Sleep Tight to help her get over the bruises. I do so hope it works for my sister's sake!"
"Oh, you poor dear, it's so sad when a child takes ill!" Rosemary Killmonte sympathised, catching up her hand to pat it consolingly. "On a brighter note, I caught one of them popping in last evening and I managed to give him a whole bottle of medicine, all in one shot! Lost my damned handbag in the process but it was worth it to know I personally disposed of one of the bastards!"
Flora stiffened and stared at the dried up spinster who was still gloating at her memories. "Rosemary Killmonte, please tell me you didn't have your diary in that bag too?" she asked apprehensively.
"Well, of course I di…. Oh my! You don't think….! But that was last night, and the raid was two days ago. It can't be connected, can it?"
"Rosemary Killmonte if you have led those monsters to our door by your compulsive stupidity…." Henry Mergeson began threateningly.
A thunderous knocking at the door cut off the threat stillborn and everyone jumped to their feet in an undisciplined hubbub of voices.
oo0oo
"North Team in place."
"West Team in place."
"East Team in place."
"South Team in place."
"Sky Team in place."
"Synchronise time eight on the mark. Three, two, one, mark."
Constable Martin Harmen banged on the door of the house they had just surrounded, making it as authoritarian as he could. There was a muffled set of noises then someone ripped open the door, barging out and trying to push past the burley constable. He stepped aside and allowed the five people to rush past him straight into the waiting arms of the mop-up squad. East team caught three women trying to sneak out of the lower storey windows. South Team reported two men and two casualties. One of the men thought to punch a small, frail looking female constable in red out of the way. She threw him so far back he slammed into his fellow escapist and both ended up with fractured ribs.
East Team was not so lucky, the report of a light calibre pistol splitting the night. There was a scream and a few bitten off swear words then the radio crackled into life requesting assistance for one man down. Constable Harvey Salisbury never regained consciousness from a .22 calibre slug though the eye, the one part a vest could not protect. The shooter, one Henry Mergeson, was charged with murder after he was discharged from hospital himself.
Ron swore softly under his breath when they realised they had only found twelve of the supposed fifteen people slated to make the meeting. Gilbert Nelson would not be there for obvious reasons; Rosemary Killmonte and the house owner Flora Higginbottom were also missing, presumed to still be in the house once the teams had called in. "Damn it! We're going to have to go in after them," he muttered to himself in disgust
"Want me to order the search?" John Parkhurst asked then gave the order at the redhead's nod of approval. "Room by room, people, and don't miss anything. We have two minors in custody so watch out for other kids, too."
The search made room by room through the large, two storey house turned up one cat and little else although the red clad Aurors seemed inclined to take the cat into custody for a while. One of the women spotted a stepladder and indicated there was an attic under the high pitched roof. One of the Aurors did an incredible thing and rose carefully with no aid from anyone, pushing open the trapdoor an inch at a time. The attic was full of junk and old furniture but no human presence it was ascertained as the rest of them followed up by more conventional methods.
"Mind you, the presence of an attic almost demands there be a cellar to balance it," Constable Rolland joked then said 'oh' as the people around him stiffened at his words. "Damn!"
The teams hurried down the stairs and began searching for a door that led down.
"Here it is," Fiona McDonald said softly as she pushed the concealed door open very carefully. The stairs led down steeply, turning half way to block the view of the rest of the cellar complex. "Wait here, I'll go look."
The Muggle parts of the team gawked as she disappeared, a small brown mouse taking her place. The wizarding half seemed to take it as a matter of course that a woman could become a tiny field mouse without any effort. It scurried away silently, was absent for a few minutes before it reappeared and changed back into the small girl at the head of the stairs out of sight of the cellar floor.
"We have a situation, people. There are two old beldams down there and they have a strange sort of clock thing attached to what looks like one of those cylinders we saw at the factory yesterday. It's making a ticking sound like an alarm clock. What do you think?"
"Could be a bomb," Rolland mused, his team leader nodding agreement.
"So what do your lot know about bombs?" Sergeant Rogers asked curiously.
"What's a bomb?" came the anonymous query, making the Muggles groan softly.
McDonald grinned into the darkness. "It's mainly only teasing. Some of us grew up as Muggles but some of us didn't. Think of it as an incendio spell with a Thousand Knives curse embedded in it, okay. When it goes off, it cuts you to rags with light and sound effects too," she described for the sake of the few purely wizard-raised in the group. "Can we do a containment spell on it; funnel it straight up or something?"
"Have to get our people around the spell first," Gordon mused. "Who has the invisibility cloaks? Super! Wrap us up, send us in and then we all uncloak at the same moment. Who does the best containment spells? Not you, Fiona, you would get pushed over. Larsen, Longatti and I can handle the bang. Dobson, Smith and both Joneses can do the funnelling. Suit you guys?"
The Muggle sergeant nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I didn't understand half of that but it sounded really good! Go for it!"
The three named people wrapped themselves in the invisibility cloaks and ghosted down into the well lit cellar area. The two old women were obviously guarding something at their backs which involved what looked like a wind up alarm clock and three fat red candles strapped to the side of a huge round metal cylinder. "It's definitely a bomb," Larsen confirmed softly, still invisible inside the cloak.
Both women stiffened and lifted the cricket bats they were holding, waving them around wildly. "We know you monsters are there! If you come near us we will blow up the whole place and we can, you know," the left hand woman said in high, stringent tones. The right hand woman showed where a piece of string went from her hand to the top of the bomb.
The wizards ignored them as they slid into position and drew their wands. "On the count of three," Longatti said loudly enough for everyone to hear, the women shrieking in fright.
All three magicals began a chant that would smother and contain the explosion if it happened while the funnelling team slid into place behind them and began to weave a shield that would send any explosion up and away from the people waiting around the building. The Muggle contingent waited for the liaison officer to give them the nod then carefully began making their way down the steep stairs to where they could see the women.
"Don't you come any closer!" Rosemary screeched pointing her bat at the lead sergeant.
"You are a traitor to your blood and kind, cooperating with them. Don't you know what they will do to you? They will turn you into a mindless slave and steal your children and turn them into monsters like they are. Or worse, they will kill all your daughters, rape and torture them before they send the pieces back to you just as they did my little bouquet of joy!"
"Now come on, Lady, put the bat down and let's get out of here. So far there is little evidence to pin on you and we don't want to make the situation any worse, now do we. Come on now Aunty, put the bat down."
"He is already contaminated, look at his eyes; he is already infected with the poison, Rosemary. All the words in the world will do no good at all," Flora said in resignation. "It's no use my dear, we will have to make the ultimate sacrifice." She wrapped the string more firmly around her hand and pulled hard as her companion nodded eagerly.
The click was deafening then a few embarrassed chuckles broke out just before the muffled boom shook the building to its foundations. The natural gas tank the dynamite was strapped to split like a melon and the gas ignited in a flaming ball that licked out at everyone. The Muggles ducked then the wall of flame contacted an invisible barrier and roared hungrily as it splattered and formed a perfect cylinder. Thwarted in its rush outward, the ball became a pillar as it was forced upward, blasting through the ceiling and up through the upper Floors until it blew of the roof. The broomstick squad peeled away from the pillar of flame in a hurried move that almost exposed them to Muggle eyes.
Seven magicals swayed and gritted their teeth as they fed power into the spells containing the ravening forces, holding the compressed power contained until it found its own way out thought the roof and dissipated into the night. Slumping, the cloaks were allowed to fall as the walls of spells were allowed to fade and the residual heat washed over the cellar's occupants. Flora saw the slim, black skinned man appear before her and swung the bat hard, taking Peter Larson in the ribs with the edge. The crackle of breaking bones was incredibly loud in the silence of the cellar, Fiona McDonald letting out a shocked cry as her fiancé collapsed on the dirty ground.
Flora's crow of triumph was lost as the small girl back-handed her and fell to her knees beside the fallen man, tears in her eyes. Her group leader was a step behind her, quickly taking Larson's pulse and patting McDonald's shoulder. "Yes, he's still alive. Good! Can you manage him to St Mungo's? Go!"
The couple winked out as the red clad wizard rose and plucked the bats from the women's hands almost contemptuously. "You two are under arrest for the kidnap and murder of a number of people over the last three years."
"She struck me! That filthy animal struck me!" Higginbottom gasped in disbelief, unable to comprehend the change of circumstances.
"Aren't you lucky she is so small and thin then?" one of the Muggles said harshly, spinning her around and handcuffing her without mercy. "You have the right to remain silent…."
"Only until Inspector Weasley brings in the Potions Master to administer veritaserum and find out just how far this conspiracy goes," Giovanni Longatti said in grim satisfaction.