The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom (15 page)

The mayor's a good man
, Lizzie thought.
He gave me food and money when I was starving and had nowhere to go, didn't he? If anyone can help Dru, he can. Fitzy's right. I have to win him over.

“Any questions?” Fitz waited a moment, then clapped briskly. “Very well. Back to work, everyone. Let's get ready for the show of a lifetime.”

* * *

Once the last of the circus folk had left the tent, only the Penny Gaff Gang remained. Lizzie urged them to get on with their practice, but none of them listened.

“This isn't just on you,” Malachy assured Lizzie. “We all said we were in this together, remember?”

“We did,” said Erin, nodding.

“All for one and one for all,” added Nora.

“But, Malachy, your dad said the best help we can give Dru is to put on a good show!” Lizzie paced back and forth, twisting her fingers. “What else can we do for him now?”

“We need to track down the real Phantom,” Malachy said.

“That's what got us into this mess!” Lizzie exclaimed.

“And the only way out is to keep going. Dad's right about the show being important, but he knows that's just a gamble. We can't change the public's mind about us just from one show, and we can't rely on the Lord Mayor to plead Dru's case for us.”

“He is one of the rich folks, after all,” Erin said with a sniff.

“So we deal with this our way.” Malachy pulled a folded newspaper out of his pocket and pointed to the headline:

Phantom Trial Set for Tuesday 13th

“We have to do it fast. Dru goes to trial in three days,” he said somberly.

Nora stared. “That soon?”

“If they find him guilty,” Lizzie said, swallowing hard, “he'll swing, won't he?”

“Yes,” Hari said simply, before anyone else could answer. “Robbery is a capital crime. He'll hang for it.”

Lizzie felt a sudden pang of guilt. In her caravan, not so long ago, Dru had pleaded with her to read his palm, but she'd refused. But what if she had? Could she have seen the arrest, the imprisonment? Could she have warned him? He would have listened, she knew that for certain. Dru trusted her. She imagined taking his warm open hand in hers, exploring the creases on his palm. If she could see his life line now, would it be long . . . or tragically short?

* * *

Lizzie didn't let herself cry until later, when she was alone in her caravan. “It's not fair!” she whispered to herself, wiping streaming tears away. “Malachy reckons my gift's meant to help people, but all I've done so far is stop rich men from being robbed! What kind of a gift is that? Who cares about rich folks, anyway?”

Lizzie heaved a sob and kicked the wall of the caravan in anger. Then she did it again, wishing she could kick down the walls of Dru's prison cell. She grabbed a flowerpot and smashed it viciously against the wall. That only reminded her of the tile she'd knocked off the roof. It was too much. Her voice rose in a howl of rage and despair. “What's the point of having these special powers if I can't help the people I care about?”

The children at the bathing lake in Victoria Park screamed in delight. “Mummy! Mummy, come and see the ELEPHANTS!”

Lizzie and Hari led Akula and Sashi down into the water, whispering reassuring words of calm while the crowds of children came running up and adults yelled to one another to come and see. Now that the circus had set up here, it was time to get the word out — and nothing attracted attention quite like the elephants.

Akula waded in and dipped her trunk into the water. Some of the more daring boys and girls edged closer, and one even reached out to touch her flank.

“Remember to come and see her this evening!” Lizzie announced. “She'll be performing for the Lord Mayor himself. Only a few tickets left!”

On cue, Sashi blew a glittering spray of water into the air, spattering the squealing children.

It was late afternoon when they led Akula and Sashi back to their enclosure. Excitement was building for the Lord Mayor's arrival. By the look of it, Dru's arrest hadn't hurt business one bit — there were crowds at all the sideshows, and the evening show was sold out. A few people who'd had the foresight to buy up tickets were reselling them at outrageous prices, though not where Fitzy could see them.

That evening, the Lord Mayor finally made his grand entrance. The crush at the park gates was too thick for any of the Penny Gaff Gang to see what was going on. Lizzie ended up perched on Akula's back, shading her eyes to see over the crowd, telling the others what was happening.

“There he is! I see him!” Lizzie said. “He's got a red robe on, with a big gold chain!”

“Is my dad there?” Malachy asked eagerly.

“Yes, I can see his topper. The mayor's shaking his hand. Like they're old pals.”

There was a burst of applause from the onlookers. Everybody heard it.

“Who else is there?” Erin asked. “Did Princess Alexandra come?”

“Can't see her,” Lizzie replied.

“See, Nora, I told you she wouldn't!” Erin said.

“There's a right crowd of rich folks with the mayor, though. Men in tailcoats with huge beards, mostly. Some bloke in a military coat with loads of medals. And an old woman all done up like a peacock.” Lizzie looked again. “They're on the move. They're coming!”

“Get to your places, everyone!” Malachy yelled. “Looks like the mayor wants a tour of the circus. Dad said he might. Give it your best, because Dru's counting on us.”

Lizzie sprinted to the fortune-teller's tent and quickly pulled her robes and veil on. Her heart was thumping as she waited to hear the mayor's voice outside the tent. It seemed like only minutes later when she heard the sound of an approaching crowd, and Fitzy's voice ringing out over it. “Now, why don't we begin with a visit to the only genuine clairvoyant to be found in any circus in the land — the Magnificent Lizzie Brown!”

“I happen to be a spiritualist, and I will have you know there are a great many genuine clairvoyants!” she heard a posh woman say, sounding offended.

“Ah, but, madam, they are not to be found in circuses,” Fitzy said with smooth good humor. The gentlemen laughed at that.

Oh, lord, I'm the first act he's going to see
, Lizzie thought, feeling a little faint.
Please don't let me mess this up.
One of the smaller crystal balls looked dirty. She picked it up and gave it a quick polish.

“I've heard amazing things about this woman,” the mayor said. “How on earth did you ever come across her?”

“Fate,” said Fitzy. Lizzie knew his eyes would be twinkling. “Your Worship, would you care to experience her talents for yourself?”

“Well, I don't see why not,” the mayor replied.

Lizzie heard the sound of tramping feet, very, very close now. She quickly tucked the grubby little crystal ball into her pocket.

“One moment!” said the mayor from right outside. “Ladies, gentlemen, you had better leave me alone for this. After all, if this Magnificent Miss Brown is as good as Fitzgerald claims, she may ferret out some of my secrets! And some of you schemers already have your eye on the mayor's seat, eh, Brundell? Eh, Harpole? You'd love to dig up a bit of dirt on me, wouldn't you? Ha ha! Go on! Be off with you!”

Lizzie heard a great deal of good-natured laughter from the crowd, and then the tent flap move aside. The next thing she knew, the mayor himself was in the tent with her.

“Good heavens,” the mayor said, sitting down. “Hello, young lady. I expected someone as ancient as myself.”

Lizzie couldn't speak. This task was too important. The words bottlenecked in her throat and wouldn't come out.

“It's the left hand you need, isn't it?” The mayor pulled off his glove a finger at a time and held his hand out, palm up.

“You don't remember me, do you?” Lizzie managed to say. She hadn't meant to say that at all.

The mayor peered at her. “Lift your veil.”

So Lizzie did.

The mayor's eyes widened a little, and he smiled. “So, we meet again. Isn't fate a peculiar thing?”

“You were kind to me,” Lizzie said. “You gave me money and food, and I didn't even say thank you. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, and that's the truth.”

“Lizzie,” said the mayor, “it was my pleasure to help. We're not so dissimilar, you and I. I think I mentioned that.”

“You did,” Lizzie replied.

“But I didn't tell you everything. My mother died when I was very young. My father lost his job at the glassworks, because the manager wanted the job for his own son.” The mayor paused and looked disgusted with himself. “I'm sorry. I must seem like a self-pitying fool. A ridiculous old man, pouring out the story of my life.”

Lizzie tried not to smile. “
I
ought to be telling you your life story! It's meant to be my job.”

“I'll make sure to leave a few bits out,” the mayor said with a smile. “You can work for your pay! Hard work's how I got to where I am today. I started with nothing.”

“I can't charge you, sir. Wouldn't dream of it.” Lizzie took his palm in hers. She felt for the first time how gnarled and callused the Lord Mayor's hands were. Not like a gentleman's hands at all.

What an amazing man we have running this city
, Lizzie thought. He'd come from the gutter, just like her. But he'd pulled himself up and out.

Lizzie found the life line and gently began to trace it. Blurry images arose in her mind. The mayor as a young man, working in a slaughterhouse, retching at the smell. Lizzie caught a whiff of it, and her stomach heaved. A plump overseer in a top hat cuffed the mayor on his ear and shouted at him to get back to work.

Next she saw the mayor as a young man carrying heavy luggage along a dock. A wealthy man in a fine coat sneered at the mayor as he carried the cases up a ship's gangplank. “Put it down here, you guttersnipe,” the rich man barked at him.

The mayor's had a hard life,
Lizzie thought.

Without warning, a flash of pain exploded behind her eyes. Lizzie gasped at the suddenness of it, like biting into ice when you have a sore tooth, and almost let go of the mayor's hand, but she knew she had to hold on. Whatever she was about to see was important.

The pain ebbed a little, and bright images began to dance across Lizzie's inner vision, as clear as if she were standing there. She was seeing the evening show.
The future, less than an hour away!

Erin and Nora went cantering past, standing up in the saddle, broad smiles plastered on both their faces. Rice Pudding Pete smacked another clown around the face with a fish. Collette stepped out onto the high wire. Was Dru there? Had he been released from prison? Lizzie strained to see . . .

Her vision suddenly soared up, past the shocked-looking faces of the audience, and then down into the shadows beyond the stands. Goose bumbs spread over Lizzie's arms as she saw a familiar hunched-over shape edging forward into the light. It seemed to give off evil like a powerful stink. Like the taste of blood in your mouth.

Lizzie knew what she would see when it lifted its head. And she could no more look away than a person trapped in a nightmare can force himself to wake up.

The Phantom looked straight at her. The skull-like mask shone a hideous green under the limelight. Lizzie felt herself drawn into the dark pits of his black eyes, dragged down to be devoured alive.

“Phantom,” she said in a hollow voice. All she could think was,
I have to warn the mayor!

The mayor jerked his hand out of her grip. All the color drained from his face. “Phantom? What do you mean, girl?”

Lizzie shook her head, trying to come back to her senses. “I . . . I seen him! I think he's after you next!”

“But the Phantom was caught. He's in prison.” All the friendliness had gone from the mayor's face now. He was looking at her as if she was . . . a freak.

“I seen him before,” Lizzie pleaded. “There was this bloke, he came for a reading, and I saw the Phantom coming to rob his house. But the bloke didn't listen, so we stopped the robbery ourselves. You've got to believe me!”

The mayor looked at her curiously. “So the Phantom is still at large, and coming after the Lord Mayor of London? This has to be the strangest fortune ever told.”

He'll have me locked in the madhouse for this
, Lizzie thought.
With all the other loonies.
But she had to try.

“The Phantom knows you're here tonight, don't he?” Lizzie said desperately. “It's been in all the papers. He's dangerous. And now he knows where to find you!”

For one sweet moment, Lizzie actually thought the mayor might take her seriously. But then he laughed. “Look here, Miss Lizzie Brown. I'm glad I helped you, and you're a plucky little thing. But I'm afraid you've fallen for your own act — hook, line, and sinker! I wish you the best of luck, but you must remember it's only a circus act. Would you do that, for me?”

The mayor stood up and threw the tent curtain open, stopped just outside, and turned around. “And if you do want to earn a living, I'd stop talking about Phantoms and bugaboos if I were you. Tall dark strangers and long journeys by sea, that's what people want.”

Fitzy was waiting outside. “How was she, Mayor?”

“Most entertaining!” The mayor laughed. “So, what about this lion of yours, then?”

Lizzie sat there in the dark, shaken. No, she couldn't bear this alone. She had to find Malachy. She hung the
BACK IN FIVE MINUTES
sign outside her tent and ran, still in her mystic robes.

Malachy came straight to the door of his trailer when he heard her hammering on it. “Blimey, Lizzie. Are you all right?”

“No,” Lizzie said, feeling her face start to crumple. “No, I'm not all right!”