Tad was already heading for the door.

They both ran all the way.

They arrived at the ramshackle doorway to the hotel a few minutes later, and called out from the long grass (which used to be a lawn). A face appeared in a window at the top of the building. It was about the only window which still had an intact pane of glass in it.

Mr. Judkins smiled and disappeared. In a few moments he was at the door, brushing aside the cobwebs and holding several trailing stems of honeysuckle away from his face.

"Good to see you again," he said.

"Can we come in, please?" asked Debbie.

"I'm sorry," said the Professor, brushing back a hank of untidy hair, "I'm always reluctant to admit anyone into my house. It's a bit of a hazard! (he laughed) Its probably safer to talk to me right here, at the door!"

"Well, we've got to talk to you!" said Debbie "Something really weird is happening!"

"Please explain?"

"I've got this tape, see?) sad Tad, taking over. "And it always has the same ending, but now it hasn't! We've played it a few times, and every time the Inspector does something different!"

"It's impossible, but it is happening!" said Debbie.

Mr. Judkins looked into Debbie's earnest face and sensed the honesty there. He believed her.

"Well, perhaps today you can come in. Yes, I think you ought to," he said, holding the honey-suckle up so the children could pass through under the tangled, leafy curtain. He led them to a crooked banister and a filthy flight of stairs. A poor, pale light barely illuminated the steps, which were covered in dirt, webs and bits of plaster which had flaked off the walls and dropped on the moldering carpet.

At the top of the stairs, Mr. Judkins turned left and pushed open a grimy door.

"This," he said warmly, and not at all apologetically, "Is my room".

Nothing had prepared the children for the amazing sight that met their eyes.