Read Online The Most Frightening Story Ever Told by Philip Kerr - Free Book Online Page B

doubt that much of this graffiti said some very wicked things indeed. Much of it about the KHG principal, Miss Dorkk.
    Billy hoped Mr. Rapscallion didn’t think he—Billy—was as bad as some of those other children. So he decided to try to make up for their behavior with some exemplary behavior of his own. And remembering that Mr. Rapscallion couldn’t even afford to take on a book clerk, he said, “Mr. Rapscallion, sir? I’d love to help out around here. And I wouldn’t want any money for it. Helping out here would be a pleasure.”
    “Thanks, Billy, I appreciate the offer. But I couldn’t let you work for nothing. I’d be taking advantage of your generosity.”
    “I could volunteer,” insisted Billy. “Perhaps we could even call it an internship. And since I don’t actually buy any of the books, it sounds to me like a fair exchange. Wouldn’t you agree?”
    Mr. Rapscallion nodded thoughtfully. “All right. It’s a deal. When I need some help, I’ll let you know. But I’d like to make one thing quite clear, Billy.”
    “What’s that?” asked Billy.
    “The only children I don’t like are just a
dozen
or so nasty ones. The kind of children who could make an Egyptian mummy look like a giant pink rabbit. Most children I like. I only ever wanted to scare the kids because I thought they might appreciate it. Kids like a good scare, don’t they?”
    “Sometimes,” said Billy. “Yes. A good scare is sometimes the best fun there is.”
    Mr. Rapscallion nodded again. “I just want you to know that, Billy, in case you think I’m a bad man.”
    “I know that,” said Billy. “I wouldn’t have volunteered to help if I thought any different.”

When Billy came into the shop the very next day, Mr. Rapscallion said, “Good morning to you, Billy.”
    “Good morning to you, Mr. Rapscallion.”
    “Billy, I wonder if I could impose on your kind offer of yesterday and ask you to mind the shop for half an hour while I go to the bank.”
    “Of course. I’d be delighted.”
    “There’s just one thing I have to warn you about,” said Mr. Rapscallion. “And it’s this.” He placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders and steered him behind the metallic brown cash register.
    “Is it a ghost?”
    “No.”
    Up close Billy thought the cash register was the size of a Russian czar’s throne and almost as shiny.
    “Ever heard of Joe Louis?” Mr. Rapscallion asked him.
    “No.”
    “Joe Louis was the greatest heavyweight boxing champion in history. His nickname was the Brown Bomber. I call this the Brown Bomber on account of the cash register’s oxidized brown finish. And because it has a heck of a right hook. In other words, this register can hit you pretty good if you’re not expecting it.”
    Mr. Rapscallion moved Billy to one side of the register. Then he reached out and carefully, as if he had been touching something very hot, pressed one of the keys. Immediately the heavy cash drawer shot out like something on the end of a powerful piston. At the same time a bell rang loudly like at the end of a round in a boxing match.
    “I still forget sometimes,” said Mr. Rapscallion. “And it catches me in the belly. Which is why I always remember that it’s called the Brown Bomber.”
    He slammed the drawer shut.
    Billy nodded.
    “All right.” And then Mr. Rapscallion went out of the shop.
    Billy stood proudly behind the cash register. To the book-loving boy, this seemed like a dream come true: him, left in charge of a bookshop. And not just any bookshop—he was in charge of the Haunted House of Books.
    The telephone rang. It was a company selling designer kitchens, and although Billy couldn’t imagine Mr. Rapscallion being very interested in the company’s half-price sale, he took a number anyway and told the salesman he’d pass on a message.
    The next thing that happened was that the mailman turned up. The mailman wasn’t a man at all, but a woman, and she seemed pleased to see Billy and talked to him