Tremor

Chapter 8

PART 2: Emily

08

Emily had a dim memory of Eleanor meeting Calvin Gathony some years ago.

Calvin, a snotty young boy who was at the same age as Eleanor, had been dragged to Moreau Manor when Lord Gathony was visiting on business with Lord Moreau. Since Calvin, who'd been perhaps either ten or eleven years old, was considered too young to trouble himself with the family business – and there was the matter of his older brother Keith who was meant to worry about these sorts of things anyway – he'd been left with Eleanor.

Of course, no one knew that big brother Keith was going to disappear very soon.

Emily remembered eyeing the boy with distrust. To be perfectly fair, Calvin had not made any attempts at being friendly either. He had, rather rudely, told Eleanor that her hair looked as if it was made out of straw, and Eleanor had promptly 'accidentally' tipped her cup of tea over his lap. That was all Emily remembered of the day, and she certainly hadn't expected to see the boy again at Moreau Manor.

And certainly not standing in the foyer of the Brownstone, talking to Felix Wallis.

Emily, who'd been on her way out of the basement after a lesson with Stella Aubun, froze as she opened the basement door into the foyer and realised that Calvin Gathony was talking to Felix Wallis. Like a deer trapped in headlights, Emily stood still when both men looked at her, Felix with an expression of barely suppressed panic and Calvin with curiosity.

Calvin tilted his head to one side, considering Emily carefully. "Why, Mr Wallis, you never mentioned there was a new resident at the Brownstone."

"It wasn't any of your business," Felix said sharply. "Leave, Mr Gathony."

"Actually," Calvin corrected him casually, "it's Lord Gathony now."

"Lord Gathony?" Felix narrowed his eyes. "What happened to the old Lord Gathony?"

"He got old," Calvin shrugged. "He thought it was time to step down."

"It wasn't in the papers," Felix folded his arms, still regarding Calvin suspiciously.

"He didn't exactly want it to be public knowledge," Calvin explained, then returned his attention to Emily. "Who may you be?"

"This is Miss Emily Greene," Felix spoke for her, "Lingonberry's new assistant."

"Is she, now," Calvin looked at her thoughtfully, and for a moment, Emily was sure he'd declare her to be the same little girl who'd poured lukewarm tea over him. Then, abruptly, Calvin returned his attention to Felix. "Well, you remember what I said, Mr Wallis. Anytime you find either her or my brother, you will always be welcome at my home."

"I'll remember that," Felix said simply.

"Good day to you, then," Calvin nodded at Felix, then tipped his hat at Emily, "Miss…" his lips quirked briefly into a smirk, "…Greene."

The front door of the Brownstone closed behind the second Gathony son, and Emily asked Felix, "Why was he here?"

"He asked me to look into Keith Gathony's disappearance years ago," Felix replied, after a moment's consideration of whether or not to tell Emily. "And now he wants me to look for you. Well, technically, Eleanor Moreau."

Emily remembered the smirk Calvin had given her. "I… I think he knows who I am."

To her surprise, Felix didn't seemed worried at all. "He won't say anything."

"Why not?"

"He has nothing to gain from it," at that, Felix disappeared into his apartment.

Emily sighed. It would seem that the man had a habit of spending as little time in her company as he could. Or, Emily thought as she considered the door where Calvin had left the Brownstone through, perhaps Mr Gathony's visit has rattled him.

…

It was one day, three weeks later, when Emily had dragged herself from the basement in exhaustion after a particularly brutal training session with Mrs Aubun – who'd insisted that Emily called her by her first name, on account that 'Mrs Aubun is my mother-in-law, and a right old hag at that' – that Emily found Lingonberry already waiting in the dining room with Felix.

The three weeks had passed quietly enough. Emily had her chores and the book Lingonberry lent her to entertain her in the mornings, and Felix always left early in the morning to the police station while Lingonberry often left for the university – to teach mathematics, apparently, and not magic. That meant Emily was once again alone, visited by her 'tutor' every afternoon.

The similarities of Brownstone to Moreau Manor rankled Emily, but there had been one very big difference – Emily was allowed to leave the Brownstone at any time she wished. Eleanor had not been allowed to even think of leaving Moreau Manor.

There was also a very distinctive difference between her tutors.

The difference between Stella and Madame Denbigh, Emily found, was that Madame Denbigh had the unfortunate habit of making veiled comments for the sake of propriety. Stella had no such compunctions and spoke as she saw fit.

"You could not punch to save your own life, Greene," Stella had said in their first lesson, shaking her head as she paced about the basement, where a space had been cleared for Emily's lessons. "This won't do at all."

From that point on, Stella had changed her tactics. Emily was to make use of her petite figure, and instead of 'Punching your opponents in the face like that oaf Wallis does', she was to duck and evade and redirect her opponents' movements.

Stella was not nice. She was not friendly. She was brutally honest.

And Felix was right. Emily and Stella got along very well indeed.

And now, at the end of the three weeks, Stella had finished her lessons by taking on Emily herself, and by the end of it all, Emily wondered why Stella had felt the need to retire. The older woman certainly could put up a fight (and had soundly delivered a beating to her young charge), and was all too smug about that fact.

"Hopefully," Stella had said as she left the Brownstone, "I won't have to see you until the next time you get in mischief."

For Stella, that had almost been a fond farewell.

Shaking her head at that thought, Emily had entered the dining room to find Lingonberry excited about something while Felix looked plain exasperated.

"The circus is in town," Felix explained wryly even as Lingonberry pushed the newspaper at Emily.

"The circus?" Emily took the paper and squinted at the grainy black and white picture, slightly disappointed that the picture wasn't any clearer. "Do they come often?"

"Once a year," Lingonberry replied at the same time Felix muttered, "Too often."

Three weeks was still not quite long enough for Emily to grasp the dynamics between the two men, but she had the general impression that whatever sarcastic comment Felix had to offer, he didn't mean anything by it – most of the time.

In this case, Emily decided that this was one of those times where he did mean it. Felix's dislike wasn't aimed at Lingonberry, not at all, but was at the circus instead.

"I should visit my son," Lingonberry muttered, more to himself than the rest of the occupants of the room. "I haven't seen him for a while. Neither has Penny, for that matter."

"Shall I point out what happened the last time you visited your son?" Felix spoke up.

"The toad was purely accidental," Lingonberry insisted.

Felix scowled. "It certainly didn't seem like it. Besides, I have work to do."

"Surely you have Saturday off?" Lingonberry was very sure of himself. "After all, you have been working for the past two weeks with no discernible break in between."

It was true; besides seeing Felix at breakfast, Emily realised she hadn't seen the man much at all, not even on the weekends.

"I do have Saturday off," Felix admitted grouchily, his tone suggesting that he'd rather be spending the day sleeping in than visiting something as ridiculous as a circus.

Lingonberry looked at Felix beseechingly. Then, he added, "I do believe Eleanor needs to be introduced to him."

Emily blinked, noticing the use of her real name. The inspector lasted for all but three seconds.

"Fine," Felix let out a long-suffering sigh. "I'll come, only to make you happy, Lingonberry."

Lingonberry beamed. "It's settled, then. Next Saturday it is."

…

The circus had pitched their tents up at a cliff-side plateau overlooking the ocean.

Emily wasn't quite sure what to make of the various stalls, nor what to make of the large red tent in the middle of it all.

Near the entrance of the lot, Emily and Felix had lost Lingonberry and Penny to the man advertising his 'miracle cures in bottle form'. Lingonberry had stayed behind, muttering something about how the man obviously didn't know that half of his wares were volatile and liable to explode, and that they needed a professional on hand – Lingonberry himself, apparently – and Penny stayed behind to ensure that her grandfather did not get into mischief.

"Go ahead," Penny had waved Emily and Felix on even as she turned back for Lingonberry, "we can meet back here in half an hour or so."

The two then continued, with Emily fascinated by the several stalls. Felix almost found himself on the verge of telling Emily to at least attempt to act less like an excited child and more like an adult before he remembered that this was very likely the first and only circus she'd ever had the chance to visit.

And so, he bit his tongue, and found himself unable to hold back a yawn. By the time his eyes stopped watering, Emily was by his side again, still thrumming with barely-contained excitement.

"This place is amazing," Emily was still grinning and looking at the stalls they passed by. "I don't see how you could hate the circus."

"I don't hate the circus," Felix started to say, then thought better of it when he realised that he did hate the circus. "Never mind. I do hate the circus."

Emily was undeterred by his dislike. "But why?"

"Toads," Felix answered simply.

Emily waited for more information, and when it became apparent none was forthcoming, she raised an eyebrow. "That's the explanation?"

"That's the explanation you are going to get," Felix corrected her simply, and tried to convince himself that he didn't feel a bit of guilt at all when a flicker of hurt ghosted across Emily's face.

Emily was crestfallen for only about three seconds before excitement – they were at a circus, something she'd never been to before – won her back over, and she suddenly grabbed Felix's arm and pulled him towards a stall. "Mr Wallis, look, I'm pretty sure that's the latest model for the T-320!"

Felix found himself being dragged towards the aforementioned stall, where every surface was covered in tiny models of the steam trains used around Oakston. "You like locomotives?" Felix quirked an eyebrow. If anything, he would have thought Miss Greene was more likely to be the sort to be interested in… well, whatever young ladies were interested in these days.

"I had a lot of time on my hands," Emily studied the model, then paused to silently read the small information card next to the model, "and a lot of books. I was bound to read about trains eventually."

Felix thought that Emily might have picked up knitting. From what he heard of the activity, it took a long time to make anything usable. When he voiced his thoughts, Emily admitted, "I did learn that too. I can't say I was too fond of it."

"Why not?"

"I was never patient enough for it," Emily replied smoothly.

Felix was not an inspector for no good reason; Emily was trying to hide something. "This is coming from someone who has been locked up for most of her life. I don't believe patience was the issue."

"Oh, alright," Emily admitted, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "No, patience wasn't the issue. It was because I couldn't stop the wool from tangling."

Felix held back a smile, and turned his attention to the models. "And you turned your attentions to trains, instead?"

Emily hmmed quietly before answering. "Eventually."

"Eventually?"

"After crocheting, embroidery and…" Emily hesitated, "…climbing trees."

"I can't imagine that ended well," it was taking more effort for Felix to bite back the grin, but he succeeded mostly.

"That would be an understatement," Emily smiled shyly at Felix.

A bright flash prevented Felix from replying. Still blinking spots out of their visions, the two turned to the source of the flash; a man holding an odd-looking box in his hands.

"Hello, there, Felix!" the man grinned. "Fancy seeing you at the circus. I thought you hated the things."

"I do," Felix responded dryly. To Emily, Felix introduced the man. "Miss Greene, this is Harrison Stirling, reporter for Oakston Weekly. Stirling," he gestured at Emily, "this is Miss Emily Greene, Lingonberry's assistant."

"Pleasure to meet you," Stirling shook Emily's hand with a wide grin.

"Uh… likewise," Emily returned politely. Then, her curiosity got the better of her. "Was… was that a camera you just used?"

"Yes," Stirling held up the camera for inspection. "Newest one Renaissance Industries has to offer."

The name sounded familiar, and Emily frowned to try and recall where she'd heard it before. Ah, yes, Emily remembered from her lessons as Eleanor. Renaissance Industries made a variety of products, ranging from household appliances to motor cars. "I wasn't aware they made cameras."

"Lady, they make just about everything these days," Stirling paused as a piece of photographic paper slipped out from the camera. "Ah, here you go," he pulled the paper free, and handed it to Emily with a flourish, "see? Instant photographs. Makes my job much easier – no more long hours in the darkroom."

Emily took the offered photograph. It was still in black and white, and just a little grainy, but she could still see the smile on her own face, and the hint of one on Felix's. It'd been taken just as she'd smiled. As she moved to hand the photograph back, Stirling waved her away.

"Nah, keep it," Stirling winked at her. "I was just testing out the camera."

"Oh," Emily held onto the photograph. "Thank you."

"Alright, Stirling," Felix looked at the reporter knowingly. "I know you're not here to just test out your camera. What's going on?"

"You know me too well, Felix," Stirling grinned widely, completely unperturbed by Felix's blunt tone. "The grapevine says there's a psychic at the circus who's very good at hypnotism. Boss wanted me to cover the story, you know, for a slice of life piece."

"A psychic?" Felix frowned. "And you say he's good at hypnotism?"

"Uh-huh," Stirling nodded. "I'm hoping to catch him for an interview today. Feel like coming along?"

Emily half expected Felix to decline, but instead, the inspector nodded. "Of course."

"Oh, good." As Stirling started walking further into the encamped circus, Felix and Emily followed, far away enough that they could talk without being overheard.

"I would have thought that you had no patience for these sorts of things," Emily began cautiously.

"Usually, you'd be correct," Felix offered his arm to Emily again, and she took it.

"But not this time?"

"No," Felix replied, a thoughtful look on his face.

Emily bit her lip, and hoped she wasn't bothering him with her next question. "Is something on your mind, Mr Wallis?"

"A string of robberies have occurred over the last week," Felix seemed to be talking more to himself than to Emily. Perhaps thinking aloud helped the inspector. "When the perpetrators were arrested, they declared they had no memories of committing their crimes, nor what they had done with the stolen goods."

"And you think they were telling the truth?"

"All of them," Felix's frown deepened as he continued to speak, "were upstanding citizens with no previous criminal record."

Emily thought for a moment, thinking of her old life in Moreau Manor. "People are liable to change."

"Perhaps," Felix nodded, then finally glanced at Emily, as if he remembered his sounding board was a living, breathing human, "but the robberies coincide with the arrival of the circus."

"I see your point," Emily conceded that it was suspicious. "You think the psychic is responsible?"

"Call it a hunch," Felix came to a stop, nose wrinkled in distaste at the wooden stage bedecked with colourful draping. "Theophilus Cyrus the Psychic," he murmured, reading aloud the sign stretching across the top of the stage. "What a mouthful."

Emily was inclined to agree.

Theophilus Cyrus, luckily for the two, was in the middle of a show, and did not notice the three – one reporter, one inspector and one Magician's assistant – joining the back of the crowd.

Cyrus entertained the crowd with a variety of 'parlour tricks', as Felix said in a rather unimpressed manner. Cards picked out by volunteers in the crowd were identified and predicted by Cyrus, coins were made to vanish and reappear in the most unlikely places and the man even managed to levitate an apple.

Throughout the whole show, Stirling kept muttering to Felix, "Don't tell us how it works, Felix. We know that you know your magic."

"Blame Lingonberry for that," Felix replied, and proceeded to explain in whispers how Cyrus was doing his magic tricks.

Emily wasn't paying attention to Felix's comments, and enjoyed the show for what it was – she knew it wasn't real magic; it lacked the spark Lingonberry's sigils had.

"And now," the man declared, rolling up his sleeves and straightening his waistcoat, "for my final demonstration, I will hypnotise a volunteer from the audience…"

"Finally," Felix muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Emily to hear.

"Any longer and you would've fallen asleep on your feet, sir?" Emily breathed back cheekily.

Felix gave her a flat look. "Don't tempt me, Miss Greene."

Cyrus' eyes scanned the crowd, and landed on an unfortunate victim. "Ah, yes, you sir, if you will please step onto the stage."

A middle-aged balding man clambered warily onto the stage, and allowed himself to be seated on a wooden chair.

"Now," Cyrus spoke rapidly, one hand held up, "may I please have your attention here, just relax and… sleep!"

At the sharp command, the man slumped.

"You will do what I say, and when I say it," Cyrus suddenly spoke slowly, his eyes fixed in Emily's general direction, and she shivered. There was something fundamentally wrong about his tone - Emily couldn't quite pinpoint the reason, but... it made her skin crawl most unpleasantly.

"And you sir," Cyrus changed back to his previous tone so quickly that Emily was almost convinced she imagined the change in tone, "you will not remember your name when I pull you from this trance in three, two, one-" Cyrus clapped a hand onto the man's shoulder, and the volunteer bolted upright.

"My good sir," Cyrus smiled at the man, "may I ask for your name?"

"Yes, of course," the man nodded, "it's… uh…"

"Come on, man," Cyrus continued, "your name certainly can't be that hard to remember."

The man still couldn't remember his name, all the way up until Cyrus put the volunteer back under a trance and undid his machinations.

As the volunteer returned to the crowd, Theophilus Cyrus bowed to the applause, and Emily glanced at Felix, wanting to ask him if it had just been particularly good acting, or if there had been any truth to hypnotism. The question died on her lips when she found him staring into space, and Stirling, likewise, made the same discovery.

"Hey, hey! Felix!" Stirling clicked his fingers in front of Felix's face, and the inspector blinked, one hand flying up to his temple to stave off the sudden headache. "What happened to you?"

"I…" Felix shook his head, as if the movement would somehow clear it, "my attention must have wandered."

"Working those late nights again?" Stirling asked knowingly, a small wince of sympathy on his face. "You probably need a rest of some sort."

"I'll be fine," Felix waved away Stirling's concern.

Stirling looked unconvinced, but brushed it off. "Well, anyway, it was nice seeing you again, Felix. And it was good to meet you, Miss Greene. I must be off now – I have a psychic to talk to."

Felix and Emily exchanged their goodbyes with Stirling, and they parted with the reporter, heading back towards where they'd agreed to meet back up with Lingonberry and Penny. By the time they returned, they found Lingonberry and Penny sitting on a bench, waiting patiently. Lingonberry had taken the time to procure a spool of cotton candy, and was munching away.

"There you are," Penny looked at them brightly. "Did you see anything interesting?"

"There was a psychic," Felix said finally, after exchanging a glance with Emily.

"Oh," Lingonberry looked at Felix in interest. "Was he any good?"

"Good enough," Felix shrugged, and Lingonberry seemed to be unsatisfied with the answer, but otherwise remained quiet. "How did the man with the miracle cures go?"

"He very nearly blew his own head off," Lingonberry shook his head, "the amateur. Now that you're here," the Magician added, "we can go see my son. I think you will be needing this, Miss Greene."

Emily took the piece of paper Lingonberry handed her, and recognised it as the note 'M' had left for Eleanor. "What-?" Realisation dawned on Emily. "Your son is…?"

"The one responsible for your predicament," Lingonberry confirmed. "And he's going to put things right, if I have anything to say about it."

With that, Lingonberry and Penny stood, and started walking towards the big top.

"What does your son do, exactly?" Emily asked, as she and Felix followed them.

"Not much, really," Penny was the one who answered. "My father isn't exactly… well, he doesn't exactly have a set job."

"I thought you said he was with the circus," Emily frowned.

"I never said he was with the circus," Lingonberry turned around long enough to waggle a finger at Emily, "I only said that I ought to visit him."

Emily looked at Felix questioningly. Felix shrugged. Clearly, she was not getting any help from him.

"Ah, Malcolm," Lingonberry stopped at what appeared to be a blank patch of space. There was nothing there, other than the dry grass underfoot. "Good to see you again."

While Penny similarly greeted the blank spot, Emily looked at Felix again. This time, the man took pity on the girl's perplexed expression. "If it helps, I can't see anything either. It was like this last time I met him too."

"Met who?" Emily wondered if this Malcolm had anything to do with the toads. "Who's 'Malcolm'? Is he Lingonberry's son?"

It was at this point that perhaps Lingonberry realised that neither Emily nor Felix could see anything out of the ordinary. "Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Greene, if you will take out your note and tear it in half and give one half to Felix, then I think things may make a little more sense to you."

Emily took out the note, and blinked as she looked at the blank spot - it wasn't blank anymore. Something flickered in and out of sight, and she thought it rather looked like the silhouette of a man wearing a trenchcoat.

"You see him, don't you?" Felix noticed that Emily was staring at the blank spot.

"I think so," Emily ripped up the note and handed it to Felix. "Is that him?"

Felix held the half-a-note in his hands, and his fingers clenched into a fist. "Yes. Miss Greene, meet Mr Malcolm Gooseberry."

Emily knew she shouldn't have been surprised that Lingonberry's son was known as Malcom Gooseberry, but she was anyway. "Malcolm Gooseberry?" As soon as the words left her mouth, the man wearing the trenchcoat appeared completely, and had the good grace to look slightly guilty.

"Er… hello, there."

And boom, Tremor's back.

Still, updates are probably gonna be slow...