With only the moon to guide them, Sigerson and Evelyn reached the Crown Hotel without a scratch. Although his sides were aching and his heart was pounding ceaselessly, as if it were trying to break out, Sigerson had never felt more exhilarated; every sense in his body was alert from their sudden escape. Evelyn, however, was far less amused.
"Where are we meant to stay now?" she asked haughtily.
Sigerson lifted his head, looked at the shining building in front of him, and said simply, "The Crown Hotel."
Being the most modern building in the country, the grand hotel consisted of many large glass panes and metal frame, giving the building the appearance of a massive glass container, which contrasted starkly with the rest of the buildings around it. As they entered, dazzling bright lights shone from above into their eyes. Few people were in the luxuriantly carpeted lobby, but the ones that were present paid no attention to the newcomers.
Once they had settled down in one of the last rooms left, Sigerson, turning around to Evelyn, who was sitting on the bed thinking silently, said, "First thing you should do tomorrow is write a letter of resignation to your manager; it's far too dangerous for you to return back to the theatre."
"Yes, that's what I was thinking as well, but what about our financial problems–"
"You don't have to worry about money for the time being; I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen, so I prepared beforehand."
He reached into one of his coat pockets and drew out a bundle of notes, his loaded revolver, and a box of matches.
"So you have a plan then?" asked Evelyn with raised eyebrows.
"Many. Most of them are backup plans in case the current one fails."
"And what is your current plan?" she yawned.
"Get some sleep first; there'll be time to explain tomorrow."
"Where are you going to sleep? There's only one bed in here."
"I'll stay up and keep watch, so don't worry and go to sleep."'
Curling up into a ball and pulling the warm covers over herself, gentle breaths soon fluttered out from beneath the covers, as Sigerson flicked the light switch off, dousing them in a flood of darkness.
Since Blight has complete control over coal and electricity now, the entire hotel would be in his grasp as well; most of the things here operate on electricity. I've seen the layout of the entire building, so if the worst comes, there are at least four viable escape routes available to use. But how can I catch Blight? Since he never commits the crimes himself, it would be impossible to directly link him to one of the crimes. I've had it wrong this entire time; I have to start by targeting his pawns first and gradually connect them to him. There are several threads I could target first: Rook, Hartland, or the cab driver…
Wind was howling through the window with rain falling lightly as well in the background, creating a symphonic haunting noise which carried itself around the room, chilling the detective's heart inadvertently. As Sigerson stared out into the black sky, he wondered, "Will everything return to normal again?"
—
Evelyn woke up groggily with a start; it was a moment before she remembered the previous night's events. Seeing Sigerson sitting comfortably on the armchair in front of her eating a pastry, she hastily got out of bed and went over to her cousin.
"Did room service pass by?" she asked, snatching the last pastry on the dish.
"Just a minute ago. Are you hungry?"
"Not particularly. By the way, whose are those?"
She indicated a pile of white clothes lying on the ornamented table.
"Yours. I went out and got a change of clothes for us both this morning. Anyways, I've written down everything I"ve uncovered so far on this case, so here, you'll understand if you read."
He waved the piece of paper in the air like a flag, then placed it onto the table next to the clothes. Walking over to the table, Evelyn scooped up the paper and clothes, when Sigerson suddenly stood up again and picked up his coat.
"I'm going out for today, so here—"
He held out his revolver, waiting for Evelyn to take it. She took it and examined it curiously, turning it over in her hands.
"Only use it in emergencies," warned Sigerson sternly, "If you don't have to use it, keep it out of sight; averting attention away from ourselves, is one of the most important things to remember now."
Warning Evelyn adamantly for the last time, he stepped out and left her alone in the room, still inquisitively studying the weapon in her hand. Then, after taking several mental notes on the many features and mechanisms of the revolver, Evelyn placed it beside her on the bed and was about to change into the new clothes, when she heard two muffled voices in the corridor outside of the room. She paused and listened intently. There was a knock on the door. Slipping the revolver into her gown, she cautiously walked over to the door and opened it.
A staff member and a smartly dressed man were standing behind the door. As soon as the door was opened, the concierge dismissed himself and returned to his work. The man smiled warmly and said, "Miss Evelyn Whitlock?"
"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" asked Evelyn naturally, hiding all signs of suspicion perfectly.
"Can I come in? I amy have some information that might pique your interest."
Evelyn opened the door wider and allowed the man to enter the room. He was dressed tidily with a red tie to match his crisp suit.
"Please have a seat, sir."
As the man sat, Evelyn observed him keenly, noticing the smallest details in the man's clothing and behaviour. A small faded ink stain was splattered on his sleeve; a few scratches were dotted around the watch he was wearing.
This man should be an upperclass citizen; his clothes and shoes alone are worth an average citizen's year of working. His shoes are rather clean even though it was raining quite heavily last night; he probably came in a cab. The watch on his wrist is expensive but badly scratched in multiple places. He keeps it because of its efficiency, not because of its value, since a valued possession would rarely have that many scratches. This can only mean that this man sitting here in front of me must be Elysius Blight; who else would have a reason and be able to track down our location so quickly?
During all these thoughts, which hardly took over a few seconds, the stranger continued to smile at Evelyn, looking as though he already knew the thoughts in her mind.
"I'm sorry, but I still don't understand why you're here, sir."
"That's right, I still haven't introduced myself, have I? My name is Elysius Blight."
A brief pause lingered in the room, as if these words stopped time itself, halting everything in the world from thought and action. Evelyn's hand twitched and moved towards the revolver involuntarily by a fraction of an inch.
"Dangerous things, aren't they, Miss Whitlock? You may want to leave your revolver on that table next to you. No? You prefer to keep it with you? That's fine."
He continued to beam in a friendly manner, although his eyes shone with hidden menace.
"I believe, sir, you said you had information for me."
"Yes, I did. You know, there's a sleeper train departing from Sodor in a couple of days."
She froze uncertainly. What was this about?
"I'm not quite sure what you mean, sir."
"Oh no, I was just telling you that the sleeper train is available in a few days and can take you out of the country."
"I–I see. Thank you for telling me, sir."
"You're stuck in a small problem now, aren't you? You and your cousin?"
"Yes. May I ask how you are aware of this, sir?"
"I have many connections, some of which are with the Constabulary. More importantly, your predicament right now, is it not your detective companion leading you through the hardship?"
"I suppose you could say that, sir." she replied carefully.
"Can you understand him? He never reveals everything to you, does he? There might be some… hidden detail he's never mentioned before. Can an intelligent lady such as yourself bear to work with a man like that?"
When Blight saw that his words were beginning to have a small effect on her, he continued in a honeyed voice, masking all malicious intent, "We both know that neither you nor your charming cousin trust me, don't we, Miss Whitlock. It would be wiser to separate yourself with everything if you want to surpass him, I am right? Use your talent for yourself, and you'll reap the reward that you've been wanting for so long."
He got up and walked over to the window, gazing peacefully outside at the row of decorative trees lined up parallel to the sidewalk. A soft breeze was blowing on the trees, making them sway side to side in perfect sync.
"See the trees outside, Miss Whitlock? They hold themselves firmly in the ground without support; their roots alone are strong enough. One tree is hard to fell; a forest is almost impossible. But a spark—a single spark—is deadly to the forest. It spreads, destroying everything in its path. Tell Mr Sigerson this—"
He strode to the door, his hand tightening around the knob.
"Meet me at the train station on platform three, at noon, ten days from today. I hope to see him there."
Nodding to Evelyn, he left the room, filling her with repulsive dread.
"He knows where we're staying now… He also knows exactly what I want, but how?" muttered Evelyn to herself, "Never mind that now… He was just trying to make me work against Will; every word he spoke was luring me to try and separate myself from him and let my pride overtake me… What should I do? I'll wait for him… Then we'd better leave as soon as possible…"