He’s just like Pa, Lizzie thought. Too strong. You can’t win against his kind. They always break you in the end.
“Come on, Lizzie!” Nora shouted. “You can do this!”
The mayor seemed to snap out of a trance. He suddenly noticed the three girls swinging towards him. A roar of encouragement came from the crowd, cheering Lizzie on.
“No,” the mayor gasped. “Got to finish you off. Now.” His grip tightened around her neck, crushing her windpipe.
Lizzie twisted her head around and bit the mayor. She bit deep and hard like a terrier and kept biting down until her jaw ached and hot, coppery blood filled her mouth. The mayor gave a shrill scream and let go of her throat.
Time now seemed to slow down. Lizzie could see Erin swinging up and toward her. She turned and flung herself off the rope ladder — out into empty space.
The crowd gasped as one.
Lizzie fell, her arms outstretched and grasping at nothing. She felt weightless as an angel. The circus lights rocketed past like shooting stars around her.
In the next second, Erin’s hands clasped hers.
No longer falling but swinging, Lizzie hurtled down past the hundreds of astonished faces, down and down, faster and faster. Too late, she realized her hands were slick with sweat, and she was losing her grip.
The net was up ahead, but Lizzie wasn’t going to reach it. One of her hands broke free. She knew she was going to hit the sawdust-strewn gap and miss the net completely.
Erin tried to snatch her flailing hand back. Their fingers brushed, but Lizzie couldn’t reach. Her arm was in agony, almost ripped out of its socket, but she held on until finally her fingers could no longer grip . . . and she let go.
But instead of the back-breaking impact she’d expected, Lizzie hit something taut and strong that flung her back up again, then caught her and held her in its safe embrace.
The net. I made it to the net! Lizzie realized.
It was the very edge of the net, she saw as she sat up, dazed. She’d been two feet away from certain death. Erin, Nora, and Collette gracefully tumbled down, making the whole net bounce like a trampoline.
Lizzie looked around, shocked to be still alive, as Fitzy and his men rushed up the rope ladder. With his hostage gone, all the mayor could do was cling to the top and wait to be dragged down. There was nothing terrifying about him now. He looked miserable and pathetic, a broken old man.
Bungo flung him over his back and climbed down the ladder. He carried the mayor in front of the crowd like a trophy.
“Here is your Phantom, ladies and gentlemen!” Fitzy shouted triumphantly. “The real villain, unmasked before your very eyes. Take a good look while you can, because he’ll be going away for a long, long time.”
CHAPTER 18
“Flippin’ heck!” Lizzie exclaimed. She couldn’t remember seeing a finer breakfast than the one Erin and Nora brought her — bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast, and some sort of flaky thing like a crescent moon that smelled delicious.
“It’s a croissant,” explained Nora. “French food.”
“Madame Boisset must have took hours to do this!” Lizzie took a bite. It was like tasting the summer sun.
“Actually, Collette made all this for you,” Erin said.
Lizzie brushed crumbs away. “I have to go say thanks.”
“You’ll have to do it later. They’ve all gone off to fetch Dru from the prison.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened. “You mean . . .”
“They’re letting him go!” Nora squealed.
As they hugged, Malachy and Hari knocked on the door, waving a newspaper. “Read all about it!” Malachy called. “Phantom unmasked!”
“Mayor of London arrested and shamed!” Hari added.
“Get in here with that paper, you two,” Erin said. “We all want to hear what they’ve got to say.”
“For once,” Nora said with a grin.
They sat together while Malachy read the front-page news aloud to them. Lizzie could hardly believe what she was hearing. With the Lord Mayor in custody, the full story was finally coming out. She could understand the meaning of the strange words he’d hissed at her the night before.
“‘Word of the so-called Phantom scandal has already reached as far as New York and Hong Kong,’” Malachy read in a posh voice. “‘Lord Mayor Albert Goswin, noted philanthropist and champion of the poor, has been revealed as a hater of the rich. We can now reveal that his habit of robbing the houses of the wealthy stems from his boyhood of desperate poverty. The Phantom’s crimes are nothing less than a campaign of revenge against the privileged classes, who the former mayor believes to be responsible for the misery of his youth.”’
Lizzie listened with amazement as Malachy read the story. The mayor was haunted by the fear that one day he might be poor and hungry again. So he punished the rich, stealing their treasures and hiding them away.
“That’s why none of the stolen goods were ever found,” Hari said. “He wasn’t selling them; he was hoarding them.”
“But how was he doing it?” Nora asked.
“I’m getting to that,” Malachy said. “‘Thanks to his position of authority, the former mayor could visit any police station in the city and enjoy unsupervised access to police records. He not only discovered which houses held the most valuable treasures, he was able to steal the keys homeowners had left with the police to ensure their protection.’”
“So that’s how he got those keys!” Lizzie exclaimed.
“An elegant plan.” Hari sounded like he admired it.
“A crazy plan, more like,” Malachy said. “He was off his head. The paper thinks so too. “The success of his many robberies over the years convinced the Phantom he had a grand destiny. He fancied himself the true King of London, ruling from his pile of stolen gold, with the people of the city terrified to speak his name. Those who got in his way were swiftly punished, often in the most violent and brutal manner. Rich and poor alike were cut down in his wrath.’”
“Don’t I know it,” Lizzie said with a shiver. She remembered the Phantom’s hands around her neck, squeezing mercilessly. But even though he’d nearly killed her, a small part of her couldn’t help feeling sorry for the mayor. She’d seen for herself in Rat’s Castle how living in poverty and squalor could drive people insane.
A commotion outside the caravan told them something was happening. They rushed out to see circus folk excitedly dashing from their trailers and heading for the gate.
Lizzie caught sight of a familiar figure riding high on his father’s shoulders, and her heart leaped into her mouth. “Dru! It’s Dru! He’s back!” she shouted.
And they all went running over to meet the Boissets.
* * *
“Everything they tell you about Newgate? It is true,” Dru said, accepting a cup of tea from his mother. “Rats the size of Akula. Stinking filth in all the cells. Lice!”
A party had broken out in Ma Sullivan’s tea tent, and Dru was holding everyone spellbound with stories of his brief time in prison. “Oh, Lizzie?” he said. “I ran into someone you know.”
“My pa?” Lizzie asked.
Dru grinned. “Madame Aurora. They dragged her in on my second day — I guess she couldn’t give up the stealing after all.”
“She’ll be out in three months,” Malachy said sourly.
“No, she won’t,” Dru said. “She’s been sentenced to transportation! Bon voyage.’
Lizzie felt relieved. In London, Madame Aurora was a danger, but in Australia? She’d never threaten Lizzie again.
Fitzy drained his cup of tea. “Well, I hate to break up the party, but there’s work to do. Now that Dru’s back, it’s time to move on. We set off for Kensal Green tomorrow.”
“Fitzy’s is back in business!” Malachy said, flipping one of his father’s hats onto his head in a single
throw.
One by one, people began to move away. There were a hundred jobs to do, and little time for celebrating. Eventually, only Nora and Lizzie were left. They sat on the caravan roof and watched the circus dismantle itself.
“How’s it feel to be a hero?” Nora asked with a smile.
“You tell me.” Lizzie shrugged. “If you three hadn’t caught me, I’d have been a goner.”
“Oh, be serious. What about that gift of yours? All the things Malachy said? Don’t you think you’ve got a destiny?”
“The Phantom thought he had a destiny,” Lizzie said. “I don’t think I like destinies. They drive you mad. My gift, though? That’s real enough. I’ve seen the results.”
“So you’re going to keep at it, then?” Nora asked. “Solving crimes and helping people and that?”
“Course I am,” Lizzie said seriously. “Look. I don’t understand how I can see this stuff. Don’t s’pose I ever will. But I reckon I should use it to do good things. That’s simpler than all this destiny rubbish.” She drank the last of her tea and looked into the empty cup. “I’ve never made a difference in the world before. I don’t want to stop now. Not ever.”
“Never ever?” Nora repeated.
“So long as the visions keep coming, I’ll keep using them to try setting things right,” Lizzie promised.
Nora leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re a good person. And a good friend.”
“Better than my pa, I hope. Maybe that’s why I’ve got the power. To balance out all the bad things Pa does.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Come on,” Nora said. “Let’s go see to the horses.”
As the girls were walking toward the animal trailers, a shout made Lizzie stop in her tracks.
“Oi! Lizzie Brown! You stop right there!”
Lizzie turned to see her father striding toward her, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw thrust forward. He was stone-cold sober and furious.
“You’re not allowed here!” Lizzie yelled.
Pa grabbed her arm in his iron grip. “Shut your yap or I’ll shut it for you. You’re coming home.”
“I won’t! You can’t make m —” Lizzie started to say. “Ow!”
Pa began to drag her off. “I sure can! You’ve been earning, you have. Behind my back. That money’s mine.”
“You’re hurting me! Get off!” Lizzie screamed.
Nora took her other arm and pulled, trying to drag Lizzie away from her father. Pa sneered at her, lifted his hand and smacked her. Nora stumbled back, her hand to her cheek, her eyes watering.
“That’s what you get!” Pa yelled. “You want more?”
“HITTING GIRLS, ARE YOU?” Pierre Boisset suddenly came storming over, with Fitzy, Mario, and some other circus hands close behind. “BIG MAN, ARE YOU?”
Pa set his hands on his hips. “What’re you going to do about it?”
“Let her go!” Pierre warned him.
“Make me!” Pa yelled.
Pierre shrugged. “As you wish.” Then, faster than a whip crack, his fist shot out and hit Pa right on his jaw.
Pa staggered like a drunken elephant. Pierre’s second punch went into Pa’s stomach, doubling him over. Then he hooked a foot behind Pa’s ankle and shoved, sending the man sprawling on the grass, coughing and spluttering.
Fitzy held Pierre back before he could do more. “I think he’s had enough.”
Pa hoisted himself up on his elbows and looked at Fitzy. “You’re the boss ’ere, right?”
“I am,” Fitzy said.
“That girl’s mine. I’m her father.”
“So I gathered,” Fitzy replied.
“You got no right to keep her!” Pa roared. “She’s coming with me!”
“I’m afraid he’s right,” Fitzy said. “I have no right to keep you here. If you want to go home, just say the word.”
Lizzie looked her father right in the eye. “No. I don’t want to go home, thanks all the same.”
“I know why you want her.” Pa coughed. “She’s worth money. She’s famous now. She ought to be earnin’ for me!”
“Her decision is made. You heard her. Good day.”
“Now just you wait a minute—” Pa started.
“Good day, sir.” Fitzy nodded to Mario, who lifted Pa up by the scruff of the neck. The last Lizzie saw of her father, he was being carried across the park, legs kicking in the air.
“Are you sure about this?” Nora asked.
Lizzie hugged her. “More than anything in my life.”
* * *
It was the final show in Victoria Park, and the tent was packed with eager customers. One more special performance, in honor of the Phantom’s brave unmasker? Nobody wanted to miss that!
Fitzy had an announcement to make. “Before we move on, it’s my pleasure to introduce one last show. Normally I would ask the audience to show their appreciation for the performers, but tonight, both audience and performers want to show their appreciation for one young lady!”
Fitzy bowed to Lizzie where she sat. He gestured for her to stand, so Lizzie rose and took a shy bow, while a storm of applause rained down on her.
A whole show, just for me, Lizzie thought. I never could have dreamed it.
The next hour passed like a dream. The Sullivans performed their most daring tricks, finishing off by balancing in an L shape on the backs of their huge, golden horses.
Dru walked along the highest of the high wires, juggling as he went. In the hoarse Cockney tones of a newspaper-seller he yelled, “Read all about it! The Magnificent Lizzie Brown bags herself a Phantom!”
Finally the clowns trooped in, arms over one another’s shoulders, belting out a song:
“Oh, have you heard the story
They tell all around the town,
Of the girl what caught the Phantom
And pulled his trousers down?
He may have been a menace
But she made him look a clown,
Now he’s locked up in the slammer
Thanks to little Lizzie Brown!”
After the clowns came the elephants, with Hari riding Akula at the front. They marched in a full circle, then at his command, knelt down.
With a twinkle in his eye, Fitzy beckoned Lizzie to join them. As the audience gave her a standing ovation, Lizzie stood next to Akula and waved at the crowd. The elephant wrapped her trunk around Lizzie’s waist and lifted her onto her back.
As Akula stood up, Lizzie looked out over the cheering crowd. All around the ring, the circus folk — performers and crew alike — stood linking arms smiling at her. Lizzie beamed back, warm in their collective embrace, overjoyed to be part of Fitzy’s circus.
This was her family now.
A Preview from
THE MAGNIFICENT LIZZIE BROWN AND THE DEVIL'S HOUND
As the group approached the cemetery, Lizzie kept a careful watch for any telltale glimpse of light that might be the grave robbers. Nothing showed. The moon was hidden behind clouds, and the darkness covered everything.
“We should have brought a light of our own,” Lizzie muttered. “A lantern, or a candle. Anything.”
“Let your eyes get used to it,” Hari said. “Learn to see in the dark. Like a cat.”
Dru reached the wall and began to climb. “Better we didn’t bring a light.”
“How so?” Lizzie asked.
“They won’t see us coming.” Dru tied the rope around a nearby tree, then threw it over for the others to use. In moments they were cautiously picking their way through the cemetery, alert to any sight or sound that might mean trouble.
“Stay together,” Lizzie whispered. She turned to Becky. “We need to check your father’s grave first.”
“Follow me,” Becky replied. “I could take us there with my eyes closed.”
/> When they arrived at the graveside, Lizzie saw what she’d been dreading. The flowers she’d left were nowhere to be seen. “They’ve been here,” she said.
“They robbed his grave?” Becky’s voice trembled. She sank to her knees. “How could they?”
“If they’re here, we’ll catch them,” Lizzie promised.
Becky clutched handfuls of freshly dug earth and squeezed them. She rocked back and forth, moaning.
Anyone could see she was in no fit state to take on the grave robbers. “Why don’t you wait here,” Lizzie said, giving her a quick hug. “We’ll find the men who did this.”
Becky just nodded weakly and let loose a fresh flood of tears.
I should never have let her come, Lizzie thought. She’s brave, but she ain’t in strong enough shape for this.
Without Becky at their side, Hari, Dru, and Lizzie crept quickly through the cemetery toward where they’d seen the two men before. Dru grabbed Lizzie’s arm and silently pointed out a dark shape passing between the trees.
“Is that them?” whispered Hari.
As if in answer, a low and angry growl came from a nearby clutch of bushes. Lizzie barely had time to register that the hound was closer than she’d expected before it ran out, terrifyingly huge against the night sky.
“The Devil’s Hound!” Lizzie gasped.
The phantom dog snarled furiously, then ran, and leaped at her . . .
The Magnificent Lizzie Brown is published in the United States in 2015
by Capstone Young Readers,
A Capstone Imprint
1710 Roe Crest Drive
North Mankato, Minnesota 56003
www.capstoneyoungreaders.com
First published in 2014 by Curious Fox,
an imprint of Capstone Global Library
Limited,7 Pilgrim Street, London, EC4V 6LB
Registered company number: 6695582
www.curious-fox.com
Text © Hothouse Fiction Ltd 2014
Series created by Hothouse Fiction
www.hothousefiction.com
The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom Page 14
