“Show yourself if you dare!” I raise my voice higher, crane my neck higher.

“Beware of what you wish for,” the Pillar says sarcastically. “I requested he’d show himself while I was in Phuket, Thailand. Next day a tsunami hit us.”

I dismiss the Pillar’s annoyance. “How the heck am I supposed to get to the Wonderland?” As I scream, I can feel a slight trembling in my body. It seems to me I am not only mad at this Hatter, but I am still shocked by my previous incident with my sisters.

“You know how to get Wonderland?” a kid who was watching the Pillar earlier asks me.

“She’s insane, kiddo.” The Pillar pats him. “Here, pull my finger.”

The kid does.

The Pillar farts.

The kid runs away.

All of this happens in the back of my scene while I am panting in anger and frustration.

A phone beeps again. This times it’s my personal phone. I pick it up. It’s the Hatter’s anonymous number. There is no need for him to use his phone again. We’re playing with open cards now. He is trying to drive me crazy, and I am trying to see how deep into the rabbit hole I can go.

I read the message:

Find the March Hare. He knows how to get there. And yeah, Wonderland is real—if you’re insane enough to get there.

Chapter 26

Queen's Chamber, Buckingham Palace, London

The Queen of England was grooming herself for the Event when Margaret Kent entered the room.

“All the invitations are sent, My Queen,” Margaret said. “We’re awaiting confirmation.”

“Frabjous,” the Queen said. “Did you invite the Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“The Japanese?”

“Yes.”

“The Portuguese?”

“Of course.”

“The Lebanese?”

“Them too.”

“The Germanese?”

“You mean the Germans, Majesty?” Margaret asked.

“Yes, those.” The Queen flipped a finger arrogantly in the air. “How about the Americanese?”

“The Americans, Majesty,” Margaret corrected her politely. “Yes. I invited them, too.”

“I hate the Americans.” The Queen huffed again. “But what the hell. It’s all business. We need them.”

“We do,” Margaret agreed.

“So everyone is about to arrive and see my...” The Queen’s eyes widened, and then she snickered again. “Wait!” Her face suddenly knotted. “I hope you made sure we’re not going to run into obstacles and surprises, like the Muffin Man last week.”

“I have taken special care of all that.” Margaret was sure of herself this time. The Event was the utmost important thing on her mind. “I wanted to tell you about something, though.”

“Make it brief—and I hope it’s not about the obnoxious citizens of England asking me to lower taxes.”

“Well, it’s not that, but...” Margaret didn't know how to break the news to her. “There seems to be an unusual incident happening in the last few hours.” She shrugged. “A bomb.”

“A bomb?” The Queen’s eyes bulged. “In the palace?”

“No, My Queen. It’s outside the palace.”

“So what? Put it off?” She combed her hair.

“We can’t. It’s... inside...”

“The palace?” She stopped combing.

“No.” Margaret managed to stay calm.

“Great.” The Queen combed her hair again. “Then put it out.”

“We can’t. It’s inside a rabbit.”

“So what? Shoot the rabbit.” She began putting on her makeup.

“The rabbit is loose on the streets of London, My Queen.”

The Queen rammed everything to the floor and turned to face Margaret with furious anger in her eyes. But it was only for a moment. Her nonchalant attitude returned in a second. “That’s hilarious!” She started clapping her hands. “Who thought of this?

“A man in a circus who was dressed like the Mad Hatter.” Margaret was totally surprised by the Queen’s reaction, but she wouldn’t dare show it.

“Nonsense.” The Queen waved her hand. “It can’t be him. I know that for a fact. But wait.” She laced her hands behind her back and began walking left and right—thinking, probably. Margaret always hated when the Queen began thinking. It never resulted in good deeds. “I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears, My Queen.”

“Find this madman who stuffed a bomb in a rabbit and send him an invitation to the Event.”

“But—”

“No buts,” the Queen said. “I could use this kind of madness.”

Chapter 27

Department of Insanity, 7.5 Ha Ha Road, London

Time remaining: 23 hours, 49 minutes

Waiting for Inspector Dormouse inside the Department of Insanity’s office, I can’t help but ask the Pillar about the street name where the department is located: “Ha Ha Road?”

“Would have sounded better if it were Bonkers Road, Fruitcake Alley, or Lala Avenue.” The Pillar keeps gesturing at police officers while we talk. He seems to enjoy being among them too much—not bad for a serial killer. “But I checked it on Google Maps. It’s a legitimate street name. Maybe that’s why they built the Department of Insanity here.”

“The sign says Crimes of Insanity, but every one prefers to call it Department of Insanity.”

“Well, you can’t really call it Crimes of Insanity. If a person is mad it can’t be a crime. Thus the diversion, but I like it. Here he comes.” He cheers at Inspector Dormouse arriving with his beady eyes.

“Sorry, had to take an afternoon nap,” the inspector says, and sits across from us.

“It’s not afternoon yet—” I swallow the sentence when the Pillar kicks my foot under the table.

“We need your help, inspector,” the Pillar says. “Remember my request on the phone?”

“I do.” Inspector Dormouse’s belly ripples to his sigh. “You’re looking to meet the so-called March Hare.”

“Yes. We have evidence that he is connected to several cases of animal crimes,” the Pillar says. “We’d like to interrogate him.”

“But the March Hare has been locked up for years,” Dormouse says. “He is a very dangerous man.”

“We have evidence he organized a crew of animal offenders before he was locked up.” The Pillar does all the talking. I barely can grasp how the March Hare is talked about so openly. “It would be a big favor if you helped us meet him. He might lead us to how to stop the rabbit from exploding.”

“But no rabbit is going to explode anymore,” Inspector Dormouse says. “Can’t you see? We’re past the deadline of 666 minutes. It was all a hoax by a crazy magician in a cheap circus.”

“Again, we have evidence the deadlines has been extended for another twenty-four hours,” the Pillar says.

“What evidence?” Inspector Dormouse suddenly seems alert. “Can I see it?”

“It’s classified,” the Pillar says.

“I’m the police. Nothing is classified to me,” Inspector Dormouse says.

“You’re the Department of Insanity on 7.5 Ha Ha Street,” the Pillar remarks in a slightly mocking manner. “I’m sorry, but you’re not really the police.”

“You’re right.” Inspector Dormouse waves his fatty hand in the air. “I hate my job. We haven’t solved one case since we were hired a few years ago. How am I supposed to catch a madman and convict him of a crime? A bomb inside a rabbit. Huh.”

“I suppose you could help us, then,” I offer. “We promise you get the credit if we catch the rabbit.”

The Pillar cranes his head with admiration toward me. “She always keeps her promise,” he tells Inspector Dormouse, as he flashes a thumb at me. “I assure you, she’s not mad like all those criminals you chase. Not in the slightest. She doesn’t even own a Certificate of Insanity.”

“You look like a fine young woman,” Inspector Dormouse says. “My daughter would look up to you. She likes animals and likes saving them.” He takes a moment to think it over. His head falls onto his chest as he thinks. He is about to sleep again. “So.” Inspector Dormouse comes back from sleep. “What were we saying?”