“Fitzy, where’s the mayor?” Lizzie demanded.
“Having a slice of cake in Ma Sullivan’s tea tent!” Fitzy shouted. “Tell him I won’t be long!”
Lizzie ran, with a quick glance over her shoulder. She saw Mario lift his colossal arms and bellow like a bull, then charge right into the thick of the fighting. He flung rioters this way and that, picking them up off the ground and hurling them off the circus site. A few of the attackers ran away, too terrified of Mario to continue.
* * *
Thoughts raced through Lizzie’s head as she headed for Ma Sullivan’s tea tent, which was on the far side of the site, far away from the caravans and show tent. If her vision hadn’t been wrong, tonight she would meet the Phantom face to face.
Could it be Pa? Lizzie wonderered. The voice she’d heard hadn’t sounded like his, but he could have been putting another voice on. He was used to disguising himself when he went out begging. And she’d just seen him moments before, chucking stones with the rest of the mob.
If it wasn’t him, then who?
Lizzie thought back to the reading she’d done for the round-faced man, who had been so skeptical. It was a good thing the Phantom hadn’t hurt him as she had feared, though somehow he’d taken the keys off him without a fight.
Lizzie frowned. Now she thought about it, she hadn’t heard anything about the Phantom robbing a bunch of keys from the caretaker. Surely, if the Phantom had taken the man’s keys, he’d have told the police?
A nagging voice at the back of her mind was whispering a question. Out of all those keys, how did the Phantom know exactly which one to use to let himself in the back door?
Lizzie gasped out loud. “No,” she said to herself. “I don’t believe it. It can’t have been him!”
What had Hari said? The Phantom wears a mask because he’s ashamed. Ashamed of robbing the property he was meant to be safeguarding, perhaps? Lizzie thought.
The Lord Mayor had to know! Lizzie put on a fresh burst of speed. I’ll catch you, she thought. You think you’re so clever, but I know who you are. I’ll have the last laugh, just you see!
Lizzie threw open the flap of the tea tent, but there was nobody inside at all. The long tables were abandoned. Even the trestle table where Ma Sullivan made the tea was empty.
“Hello?” Lizzie called. “Your Lordship? Are you there?”
Nobody answered her. Lizzie began to feel uneasy. Had the mayor left for the show already? She looked around the tea tent for some kind of clue, but there was nothing. Not even crumbs.
“He must have gone in,” Lizzie muttered to herself. She looked out across the site and saw the circus folk making their way to the show tent, ready to start. There was Fitzy, top hat back on his head again. They must have beaten back the mob.
Lizzie left the tea tent and headed off across the grass. Going to have to push through the crowds and reach the Lord Mayor in the audience, she thought. But just then, she heard something behind her.
Footsteps, hard and fast, like someone running.
Lizzie spun around. A dark shape dodged back into the shadows, vanishing behind two storage tents. She swallowed hard. Of all the people who might wish to do her harm, Lizzie could only think of one who knew their way around a circus campsite well enough to tail her through it, and that was the woman who had been the fortune-teller before her.
Lizzie lifted her mystic robes and took off running. The show tent loomed up ahead of her. Crowds were bustling at the main entrance, and a hubbub of excited conversation reached her ears. Her heart lurched.
They’re letting them in already! Don’t tell me I’m too late! Lizzie thought frantically. But the sight of the big crowds gave her courage. If she could reach them, she could dive into them. Her pursuer wouldn’t be able to follow.
Those running feet were pounding behind her again. Closer, this time. She knew who was coming. Madame Aurora had sworn to get revenge, and now she was going to fulfill that promise. Lizzie put on a burst of speed. She heard her pursuer do the same. It sounded like Aurora was right behind her!
Lizzie looked over her shoulder — and let out a terrified scream.
It wasn’t Madame Aurora bearing down on her at all. It was the figure she’d seen in her nightmares. A man in a mask like a screaming skull — not the battered old mask she’d seen before, but brand new and gleaming white.
The mask of the Phantom!
CHAPTER 16
There was only one thing for it. Run!
Lizzie bolted for the safety of the show tent, toward the lights and the crowds of people. Her chest hurt and she gasped for breath as she put on even more speed.
Behind her, she heard the Phantom grunting and panting as he tried to catch up. Ahead, someone was coming out of the crowd, moving toward her. The light behind him cast a long three-legged shadow across the grass. She prayed it was a friend.
Wait — three-legged shadow?
It was Malachy, hobbling toward her on his crutch. He saw who was following, waved frantically, and yelled out a warning. “It’s him! The Phantom’s here!”
“I know!” Lizzie shrieked. “Get to the mayor!”
Malachy ignored her. He kept coming in her direction, swinging as fast as he could on his crutch and one good leg.
Lizzie glanced over her shoulder. The Phantom was almost upon her now, but he was staggering and winded. If she was lucky, Malachy might reach her before the Phantom did. Not that two would have much more of a chance than one against him.
Malachy and the Phantom reached Lizzie at the exact same moment. Malachy blocked the Phantom’s path, while Lizzie ducked around him.
“Run!” Malachy shouted. “I’ll slow him down!”
“You won’t,” the Phantom snorted in his hoarse voice. Without breaking stride, he thrust an arm into Malachy’s chest. The boy fell back and went sprawling on the grass. The Phantom laughed, a gross-sounding chuckle.
This is it, Lizzie thought. My goose is cooked. The safety of the show tent was still a hundred paces away. It might as well have been a hundred miles.
But as the Phantom lunged to grab her by the hair, Malachy let out a yell and flung his crutch. It spun through the air and caught the Phantom below the knees. The Phantom stumbled and fell.
“Keep running!” Malachy shouted. “Get to the show tent. There’s too many people in there for him to do anything.”
Lizzie ran for her life. She was sick with fear at the thought of what the Phantom might do to Malachy, but she couldn’t turn around again, not now.
As the Phantom struggled to his feet, he staggered for a moment like a drunken man, then came after her with fresh strength. But now he was limping from where Malachy’s crutch had caught his legs. Grunts of pain came from him every time he moved.
The lights and noise of the show tent loomed closer. Almost there, Lizzie told herself. Come on, girl. You can do it!
But as she ran, Lizzie realized she couldn’t go in through the front after all. There were just too many people to push through. She’d never reach the mayor in time. Lizzie changed direction and ran toward the back of the tent, into the dark shadows where the animal cages were. She dove to the ground and pulled up the edge of the tent, wriggling under the damp canvas fabric, and crawling in. She could smell the moist grass, the sweat from the horses, and the soft warm smell of the whale-oil lanterns. Smells that meant safety.
Lizzie realized she’d come out behind the rows of raised seating, in a dark cluttered space where the unused scenery was kept. The audience were almost all inside, and the show had begun.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fitzy called, “I welcome you one and all to a night of dazzling entertainment!” Trumpets blared and cymbals clashed. The crowd roared and applauded heartily.
The wall of the tent bulged beside Lizzie, and the canvas flap lifted. The Phantom was fighting his way into the te
nt. There was only one thing she could do now. Lizzie took as big a breath as she could and screamed at the top of her lungs.
It wasn’t enough. The music and the crowd’s roaring completely drowned out the sound of her screams. She felt the ground vibrate under her feet. Hoof beats — Nora and Erin must be riding into the ring to start the show.
Lizzie backed further into the shadows, biting her knuckles in pure terror as the Phantom struggled under the lip of the tent and pulled himself to his feet. He glanced around, looking for Lizzie, and quickly found her. He advanced on her, forcing her back up against the tent wall. There was nowhere left to run. As if on cue, the crowd gasped, “Oooh!”
“Don’t fight, girl,” the Phantom rasped, fighting for breath. “It’ll be over a lot quicker that way.”
There were so many people in this tent. Any one of them could have saved her from him. But not a single one could hear her. The Phantom lunged at her with both hands.
I’m going to die, Lizzie realized. Here in the dark, in this overwhelming noise. Nobody’s going to find my body until the circus packs up to go.
Just then, Lizzie glimpsed a rope ladder dangling to one side and decided she wasn’t ready to die just yet. She leaped up and caught a rung, pulling herself up out of the Phantom’s grasp, and climbing for all she was worth.
The ladder led up the side of the big tent to the very top, where one of the lighting ropes was tied. Those criss-crossed ropes, which were higher than even the high wire, held a line of dangling lanterns that lit the circus from the top down. Every night, someone had to clamber up here to light them. She felt the rope ladder shake and glanced down. The Phantom was following her up — and the whack Malachy had given him with his crutch didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
Lizzie kept climbing, hand over hand, until she could see the crowds seated below her. The equestrian show was in full swing, with Nora lashing out with her bullwhip, smacking juggling clubs out of the air as Erin threw them.
Look at me! Lizzie wanted to scream. I’m here! But the crowd was howling and stamping with excitement, and the band was playing up a storm. Nobody would hear, even if she fell to her death.
“Keep going!” Lizzie told herself. “You can do this!”
On and on Lizzie climbed. She was perilously high now, almost at the lighting rope. The Phantom was right below her, grunting as he grabbed rung after rung.
Then, suddenly, she was at the top — and there was nowhere left to go. Despair overwhelmed her. As Lizzie looked down at the tiny figures below, the Phantom grabbed her foot! She gripped the rungs tight and kicked wildly, trying to fling him off the ladder. But he was too strong. Now he was pulling her, dragging her down toward him.
Lizzie felt something heavy in her pocket. All at once she remembered the little crystal ball she’d tucked in there. She flung it as hard as she could, straight for the band, hoping she didn’t hurt anyone.
CRASH! went a cymbal, completely out of time. The music faltered.
“STOP!” a voice yelled.
Fitzy? Lizzie hardly dared to hope.
The music fell silent. A chorus of gasps went up from the crowd, and a light flashed across Lizzie’s eyes. Someone was shining a bull’s-eye lantern up into the high shadows, trying to find them.
“Up there!” Fitz shouted. “Up by the third rope!”
The crowd started murmuring in puzzlement. Was this part of the show? Lizzie had only seconds to act. She filled her lungs and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The light found them. Now there were screams from the audience too. Cries of “Phantom!” rang out all around the ring, and Lizzie saw the circus performers staring up at her, pointing in horror. The Phantom hung frozen in place, the lantern light revealing him clearly.
Lizzie would never get this chance again. She took it.
“Let’s see who you really are!” With one deft move, she reached down. The Phantom flung up a hand to stop her, but he was a second too late.
Lizzie tore the mask off his face.
CHAPTER 17
Lizzie clung to the rope ladder, dizzyingly high up, and looked down into the snarling face of . . . the Lord Mayor of London!
“You little fool,” the mayor growled. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? They’ve seen my face. They’ve all seen my face!”
“I—I thought you were . . .” Lizzie trailed off. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. This was all wrong. The Phantom couldn’t be the kindly Lord Mayor! Could he?
Lizzie couldn’t speak. The Lord Mayor was grabbing her by the throat, one large hand pressed against her, squeezing, squeezing . . .
“Can’t let any of them live now,” he growled. “They’ve all seen too much. I’m going to burn this whole place to the ground.”
Screams and shouts rang out from down below. Lizzie could hear Fitzy yelling for people to stay calm because the situation was under control, but for once his ringmaster’s authority wasn’t working. A couple of terrified spectators dashed right across the open circus ring and ran for the exit. One gentleman drew a revolver from his coat pocket and took careful aim.
The Lord Mayor’s fingers felt rock-hard, like a marble statue, where they clamped around her neck. Lizzie tried to pry them off, but she couldn’t do it with only one hand, and if she let go with the other, she’d fall.
The mayor lowered himself down by one rung, still keeping his tight grip on her neck. Lizzie had no choice but to follow. That was when she realized the mayor was holding her body between himself and the man with the revolver.
“That’s right,” the mayor hissed. “Keep moving. Nobody will dare take a shot at me if I’ve got you as a shield.”
He needs me alive, Lizzie thought. I’m going to make it through this.
Then the mayor leaned close and whispered, “And when I’ve got out of here, it’s curtains for you, my dear.” He giggled, a strange high-pitched sound, the laugh of a man whose mind had broken into pieces.
The mayor dragged her down another rung, and Lizzie knew he meant it. She was more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. His grip slackened for an instant, long enough for her to jerk her head back and loosen his grasp on her neck. Words burst out of her. “Why are you doing this?”
The Lord Mayor only grunted, like a drunken man woken from sleep.
“It don’t make sense!” Lizzie yelled. “You were so kind to me.” It’s like there’s a crack right through his mind, she thought hastily. If I can keep pounding away at it, he might break. “You gave me food and money,” she said. “And then you nearly killed that bloke in Spitalfields. Why?”
“He got in my way!” the mayor bellowed. His face was bright red now; Lizzie couldn’t tell whether it was from the chase or anger. “People shouldn’t get in my way. I’ve been waiting years to get my revenge — and I won’t let anyone stop me.” He spat the words out in total contempt.
Lizzie knew her only chance was to keep him talking. “Revenge on who? Tell me what you mean —”
“London’s a pit! A pit of dung!” The mayor was raving now. Little white dots flecked his face. “You know who the only moral ones are? It’s not the police, oh no. It’s not the rich folks who hold their leash. They’d step over the likes of me in the street. Maggots. Threw me out. My father too! No, it’s the poor. The starving. The ones who’ve got nothing.”
The mayor lifted his hand and closed it across Lizzie’s throat again. “This is all your fault,” he growled. “If you’d shut your mouth like I told you to, you wouldn’t have forced me to do this. Just like that stupid man in Spitalfields I had to batter half to death. He interrupted me. It was his fault.”
Were those tears in his eyes? Lizzie saw his pupils shrink to tiny dots of sheer madness. She remembered what she’d seen when she’d read his palm. His bitterness over the cruelty he’d suffered as a young man had driven him mad. She
looked away, knowing what could happen if you looked an unstable person in the eye. She’d learned that the hard way from Pa.
The mayor’s fingers dug painfully into Lizzie’s flesh. She wanted to beg him not to hurt her any more, but she knew words wouldn’t do any good. She had to let him think he’d won. She let her body go limp, and he took her weight, climbing down another rung.
Through half-open eyes Lizzie watched for something, anything, that could help her to escape. Down at the bottom of the ladder a small crowd had gathered. She recognized Bungo, Joey, Mario, and Fitzy himself. They were looking up at her with grim faces.
“Move aside!” the mayor yelled down to them. “She’s dead if you don’t. Want me to throw her down? Think you can catch her, do you?”
Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie saw a shimmering white shape. It was all she could do not to stiffen in excitement and give the game away. It was Collette, racing across to the trapeze with Nora and Erin close behind her.
Quickly they scrambled up to the trapeze. Collette took up position on the bar, hanging from it by her knees. She swung out across the show tent, then swung back and grabbed Nora by the ankles. On the next swing, Nora grabbed Erin by her ankles.
The human chain swayed back and forth, back and forth, until Nora’s outstretched arms could almost reach Lizzie. The mayor hadn’t noticed — he was too busy shouting threats at Fitzy and his men. But no matter how close Erin swung, she wasn’t close enough to grab. There was only one thing to do — Lizzie would have to pull out of the mayor’s grasp and jump.
Lizzie glanced down into the terrifying space below, at all the upturned horrified faces. It was so far to fall! There was only one safe place for her to land — the safety net in the middle of the show tent. If she timed it right and Erin caught her, they could swing back over it and let her go.
If . . . Lizzie thought. It was a chance. Her only chance.
Erin’s pleading face swung back into view. Her arms reached for Lizzie, but Lizzie froze like a terrified animal. She couldn’t move. The mayor was slowly choking the life out of her, and she was just too afraid to fight him.
The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom Page 13
