The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Devil's Hound (14 page)

The sexton looked like he believed her, but then he frowned deeply. “And what on earth were you all doing in the cemetery in the first place, may I ask?”

We can't possibly tell him the truth
, Lizzie thought quickly. “We were going after our dog!” she lied.

Becky realized what Lizzie was doing and nodded. She gave the huge dog a pat and said, “He's a naughty boy.”

“In the middle of the night?” the sexton growled. “Seems an odd time to walk a dog.”

“He ran away!” Lizzie said. “Right out of the yard, down the street, and off into the cemetery. So we went to look for him, and we caught two blokes in the middle of robbing a grave. You've got to come with us!”

The sexton sighed. “Very well. But if this is some sort of prank, you'll be sorry.”

“Harold?” came the voice from within, making the man wince. “Are you still standing around out there? Get after them!”

“I'm going now, dear,” the sexton said in a singsong voice. Grumpily, he followed them the way they'd come.

The sexton's attitude changed the moment he saw the men tied up. Instead of being merely irritable, he was coldly furious. “You dare to desecrate this holy place?”

The grave robbers yelled and begged for help, claiming, “We never done nothing!” and, “It was them kids, mister!”

Lizzie showed him to where the lady's body lay nearby, discarded like a piece of trash.

“That's Cecily Musgrove,” the sexton said. He took off his cap and clutched it to his chest in shock. “She was buried only a week ago.”

“It wasn't us,” insisted the younger graverobber.

“And I suppose these children dug a body up all by themselves, did they?” the sexton snapped. “If I were you, I'd hold my tongue. You're in enough trouble as it is.” He turned to the children. “I need your help.”

“
Bien sûr
,” Dru said gallantly.

“Run back to my cottage and tell my wife to fetch the police. I'm going to wait here with these two. If they try to escape, they'll have me to deal with.”

“Right you are!” With a wink and a grin, Lizzie and her friends dashed back toward the cottage.

* * *

The next few hours passed in a blur. It was well past midnight now, and Lizzie was growing drowsy. She'd refused the sexton's wife's offer to catch a few hours of sleep on the wooden bench, even though it looked inviting. She wanted to be alert when the police came.

Eventually, they arrived — two officers in stiff black uniforms, eager for something to liven up their nighttime beat. One of them bundled the grave robbers off, menacing them with his club, while the other asked the children questions and took notes.

Yes, the grave robbers had tried to bury a young girl alive. Yes, they had been digging up the graveyard for weeks now. And yes, Lizzie was indeed the same Lizzie Brown who'd been the talk of London when she unmasked the notorious Phantom.

The policeman took Lizzie aside. “Just between the two of us,” he whispered, “how'd you do it?”

“Do what?” Lizzie asked.

“How'd you know where to find these two and catch 'em in the act?” the officer asked.

“I told you,” Lizzie said innocently. “Our dog ran away, and we went to fetch him.”

“Ah, yes . . .” The officer smirked knowingly. “Your dog. Well, wasn't that lucky.” A thoughtful expression came over his face. “This is quite a catch. I've been waiting for something big to come up for a while. Maybe we can help each other.”

“I don't follow,” Lizzie said suspiciously. She hadn't had good experiences with the police in the past.

The officer wrote down a name and address on a piece of paper, tore it off, and gave it to her. “If you happen to have any other insights, just come see me at the station. Not a word to anyone else, understand?” He winked and tapped his nose.

Lizzie looked at him blankly.

“You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours,” the police officer said. “A good tip-off could make my career, and I'm willing to pay for it.”

Lizzie felt a little queasy.
My powers are for helping people
, she thought,
not for getting police officers promotions.
She tucked the paper away without looking at it.

The sexton helpfully unlocked the cemetery gates to let them all out. The black night sky was changing to a dim, washed-out blue as the kids made their way up the path. Lizzie was so tired she felt like falling over in her tracks.

“The sun's coming up,” Hari pointed out. “We've been out all night.”

Becky yawned and hugged Lizzie goodbye. “You saved my life,” she whispered. “I'll never forget that.”

“I'll see you again soon,” Lizzie promised. “Those men won't go disturbing sacred ground anymore. I hope that helps your dad rest easy.”

Lizzie, Dru, and Hari made their way back to the circus, with the hound still trotting at Hari's heels. Was this really the same animal she'd run away from, all burning eyes and bared teeth? In the growing light, she could see he was only a dog. A big one, yes, but with needy brown eyes. Not to mention the lolling tongue that made him look a bit silly.

“You shouldn't have fed him, Hari,” Dru said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Hari said. “He was half starved, poor thing.”

“But he'll never leave you alone now,” Dru told him.

“I don't mind,” Hari replied. “He can come back to the circus with me.”

“Won't Fitzy have something to say about that?” Lizzie asked.

Hari shook his head. “He won't mind. What's one more animal in our menagerie?”

Lizzie laughed. “He ain't exactly a performer, though, is he? What's he good for?”

“Security?” Hari laughed too. “We could do with a watchdog. People might bother us a bit less if Dog here was on the job.”

Lizzie thought about the debt collectors and imagined the hound chasing them off the site. It was a pleasing thought.

“Is that his name, then?” Dru said. “Dog?”

“Until I think of a better one,” Hari said. “I'd call him Dru, but that name's taken.”

“No, call him Dru!” Dru said with a grin. “Then everyone will say, ‘Lizzie's chasing after Dru again.'”

Lizzie felt her face grow red at Dru's teasing. Why did he have to do that? He knew she liked him. Boys could be so stupid.

“We should call him Shadow,” she said suddenly. It was the perfect name. The boys looked at one another and nodded.

When they reached the circus, Hari took Shadow for an early breakfast while Dru crawled off to bed in the Boisset trailer. Lizzie felt so tired that her clothes seemed to hang heavily on her body, but she resisted the comfort of her bed. She had someone to see to first.

She went to the Sullivans' caravan and quietly let herself in. The Sullivans were packed into their bunks like sardines. Sean was snoring, but the others somehow slept through it. A shape sat up from a bundle of blankets. It was Nora. “Lizzie?” she whispered. “Is that you? I haven't slept a wink . . .”

“Of course it's me,” Lizzie whispered back.

“I had nightmares,” Nora murmured sleepily. “Oh, Lizzie, why'd you have to go back to that place? I'm so glad you're safe . . . and the Devil's Hound didn't get you.”

“You'll get to meet the Devil's Hound tomorrow,” Lizzie whispered into her ear. “It turns out he's a big old softie.”

“Hmmm?” Nora mumbled, confused. She rolled over. In seconds, the sound of snoring drifted up.

Lizzie lay on the floor of the trailer, readying herself to get up again. Exhaustion dragged at her bones.
I should go to my own bed
, she thought.

But the Sullivans' trailer was so cozy and felt so safe that she fell asleep right where she was, lying on the bare wooden planks with only her hair for a pillow.

When Lizzie finally woke, her first thought was,
I'm back in my own bed.
She sat up. Bright sunlight was streaming through the windows. At the end of the bed, Erin and Nora were waiting with a fresh cup of tea.

“Pa found you on our floor,” Erin explained. “He carried you back here.”

Lizzie rubbed her eyes. “I must have been dead to the world.”

“You were!” Erin agreed.

Lizzie downed the tea in one long series of gulps, wiped her mouth, looked out of the window, and felt a jolt of panic. “What time is it?” she asked.

“It's after ten,” Nora said.

“Ten? I must have slept for hours! Why didn't anyone wake me up sooner?”

“We wanted to let the hero get some rest,” Erin said.

Memories of last night came swimming back into her mind. “Oh,” she said. “I suppose Dru and Hari are up, then.”

“The whole circus is buzzing!” Nora said. “Everyone's heard about the grave robbers and the arrests. Even Fitzy's in a good mood.”

“The Magnificent Lizzie Brown has done it again,” Erin said, laughing.

Lizzie sank back into the pillows with a happy sigh. “Thanks for the tea. The Magnificent Lizzie Brown's going to nap a bit longer now.” She stretched out and rolled over in the sunlight like a lounging cat.

“Oh, no she's not,” said Nora.

“But you said I was a hero,” Lizzie complained.

“Even heroes need to rehearse. You're still standing in for Erin, remember? There's a show tonight.”

Lizzie groaned and pulled her pillow down over her face. “Everyone's going to be starin' at me.”

“That's the idea,” said Erin, standing on her tiptoes and raising a leg gracefully. “They're the audience, and you're the star.”

“Costar,” Nora corrected.

Lizzie wondered what would happen if she just stayed under the covers for the rest of the day. It was so nice here, warm and dark. Nobody could see her; nobody could laugh at her making a fool of herself.

Nora had once explained that she and Erin were Leos, the sign of the lion. It explained why they loved the limelight so much. Leos were often outgoing and showy. But Lizzie was a Scorpio, the sign of the scorpion. Scorpios were meant to be dark and secretive, hiding away from the sight of others. Lizzie wasn't sure if she believed in astrology or not. It seemed too much like the kind of garbage Madame Aurora used to prattle about. But she knew she was cut from very different cloth than the twins, and there was no getting around it.

The trick to getting up when you wanted to stay in bed was to do it quickly. Lizzie flung back the covers and dressed herself while Erin and Nora went to tell Ma Sullivan that she was up.

Breakfast was waiting for her in the tea tent: porridge, bacon, another mug of tea, scrambled eggs, and toast. “Eat hearty,” Pa Sullivan said, smiling over his newspaper. “An empty sack won't stand.”

Ma Sullivan folded her arms and gave Lizzie a piercing look. “So. You've taken to gallivanting around in cemeteries now, have you?”

“And if she hadn't?” Pa Sullivan spoke up. “There'd be two villains walking around free, instead of sitting in jail.”

“Yeah. Give Lizzie some credit, Mrs. S.!” cried Rice Pudding Pete. “She's done a good thing, she has.”

“Good never comes from bad, you mark my words.” Ma Sullivan retreated behind the counter, obviously the only person left on the site who frowned on Lizzie's behavior. “You may think you're the bee's knees, laughin' at the old tales and their wisdom, but I warn you, the Devil's Hound is real.”

“I know he is,” Lizzie said with a grin. “I met him. And now he's joined the circus!”

* * *

After they'd eaten, the girls headed into the show tent to practice for the evening's performance. Hari was already there waiting with Albert and Victoria. A group of clowns and stagehands were sitting in the stands, munching on sandwiches. Normally they'd be chatting and joking during their break. But in JoJo's absence, the clowns were unusually quiet. They were all clearly worried about their gravely ill friend.

Lizzie winced. Did they have to eat their lunch here? Performing in front of an audience was bad enough without having to rehearse in front of one too.

Nora noticed Lizzie's discomfort. “You've got to get used to it, Lizzie,” she said with a sigh. “Besides, the clowns are the perfect test audience for what we've got in mind.”

“Test audience?” Lizzie put two and two together. “Wait. Have you been talking to Malachy?”

“Yes,” Nora admitted. “Come on, it was a good idea he had. And the usual routine wasn't working so well.”

“Great,” Lizzie muttered. “Now I'm going to be making a fool of myself on purpose.”

“Isn't that better than doing it by accident?” Erin asked with a grin.

Nora clapped her hands. “Let's start. We're going to make it more of a comedy act, just like Malachy suggested. Lizzie, you try to do the stunts and mess them up, then I'll do them properly.”

“Mess them up how?” Lizzie asked.

“Wave your arms and legs around like JoJo does,” Didi the clown shouted from the audience. “Wobble back and forth. Make faces. Exaggerate everything.”

“Don't worry about falling off until the very end,” Nora said. “We'll make sure you've got a safety rope. Just land on your bum on Victoria's back, drop the juggling clubs, that sort of thing.”

“And at the very end, when I do fall off?” Lizzie asked.

“Someone will catch you when you fall,” Nora assured her.

“I hear Dru's volunteered for that duty,” Erin said lightly.

“That may well be true,” Nora said, smiling with satisfaction.

Lizzie thought about that. She still wasn't convinced. “Me breaking my neck isn't funny, though. Who's going to laugh at that?”

“Let me show you something,” said Didi, leaving the stands and heading for the band's equipment. “Rice Pudding Pete, kindly do a pratfall for me.”