The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom

by Vicki Lockwood

  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?”

  CHAPTER 14

  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 we
nt 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!”

  “Sit down,” Malachy said quickly. He fetched her a glass of water. While she sipped it gratefully, shivering in the seat, he found a warm shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. Once he’d done all he could to make her comfortable, he gently asked, “Now what’s wrong?”

  “I was doing the mayor’s reading, and I saw the Phantom again,” Lizzie explained. Some of the water went down the wrong way, and she choked and coughed. Malachy waited patiently until she could speak again. “I think he’s going to attack the mayor tonight.”

  “What exactly did you see?” Malachy asked.

  “Just the circus, the acts going out, and the Phantom in the shadows. He was so angry! I could feel it, Mal. He was going to kill someone.” Lizzie rubbed her aching forehead. “We have to stop him. I won’t let him hurt the mayor. He’s a good man. People don’t know how good he is.”

  “But why would the Phantom want to kill the mayor?” Malachy wondered aloud. “Everyone in the city loves him. Unless . . . of course! That’s it!”

  “What?” Lizzie asked.

  “We’re all hoping to get the mayor to help out with Dru’s trial, remember?” Malachy said. “But the Phantom must want Dru to be found guilty. Dru will be convicted in place of him!”

  “So the Phantom must have guessed we’d be counting on the mayor’s support to get Dru off,” Lizzie said.

  Malachy looked grim. “Exactly. And with the rest of the gang in the show, there’s only you and me that can stop him.”

  “We could talk to your dad, get him to cancel the show,” Lizzie suggested.

  “There’s no time for that! It’s starting in a few minutes. Tell me more about what you saw, Lizzie. Anything that could help.”

  Lizzie shrugged. “There’s no more to tell. I just saw the Phantom standing there past the crowd, in the dark, near the edge of the tent.”

  “And the show was already in progress,” Malachy mused. “So either he’s planning to sneak in once the show’s started . . .”

  “. . . or he’s already here,” Lizzie finished. “Inside the tent. Just waitin’ for the right moment to strike. I have to get to the mayor!”

  CHAPTER 15

  As Lizzie headed out of Fitzy’s caravan with Malachy close behind, she heard a smash and a scream. Anita came running out of her own caravan, pale and shocked. “Someone’s chucking stones! My window’s broke!”

  More stones thumped against the roofs and walls of the trailers. Shouts rang out: “Freaks!” “Thieves!” “Pack up and go somewhere else!”

  The Amazon Queen came running from the edge of the site. “There’s a mob,” she panted. “Throwin’ stones at the caravans.”

  Lizzie badly needed to run and find the mayor. But Anita’s face was full of fear, and Lizzie knew she couldn’t leave the tiny lady on her own. “Mally, you’d better go and tell Fitzy,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”

  The Amazon Queen pointed. “He’s on his way already, look. He’s brought half the acts with him!”

  Lizzie felt bolder as she saw Fitzy storming across the ground toward her. The mayor wasn’t with him. Of course not — this wasn’t part of the official tour.

  Lizzie peered around the caravans to get a look at the mob. There were about fifty people. Instead of going to the gates at the front, they’d crossed the park to the rear of the circus where the trailers were. They stood like a pack of hungry wolves waiting to spring, hurling stones and jeers, but always staying just outside the staked-out perimeter of the circus camp.

  “Take this, you thieving scum!” a man yelled as he ran forward. He pitched a huge stone as hard as he could. Lizzie stood paralyzed, staring into the crowd, as it flew through the air and flew straight toward her face.

  At the last moment, Malachy tugged her out of its path, and the stone whacked into the dirt. “Lizzie, wake up! What’s the matter?”

  “He’s here,” she stammered. “When that bloke ran out, I saw him.”

  “Saw who?” Malachy leaned in and said in a whisper, “The Phantom?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “No.” She pointed at the crowd. “My pa.”

  It was definitely Pa in the midst of the mob, bellowing like an ape, picking up stones and lobbing them along with the rest. Lizzie hid her face. If he noticed her now, he’d take her back for sure, especially with the mob on his side.

  Thank goodness, she thought, as Fitzy came striding out to meet the angry crowd. His face bore a showman’s grin, but there was a dangerous look in his eyes, and Bungo and Joey walked close behind him, carrying mallets that they swung menacingly.

  Fitzy held
up his hands, and that alone seemed to quiet the crowd a little. Nobody could resist the man’s charm, Lizzie thought. But for how long?

  “I’m afraid the tickets are sold out!” Fitzy called. “We’re about to start. Please go home!”

  “We’re not here for your show!” someone shouted.

  “I see,” Fitzy replied. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

  The boldest stone-thrower brandished a newspaper at him. “Your boy Dru Boisset, mate! He’s the problem! Robbin’ the good folk of London!”

  “We’ve all read about him!” someone yelled.

  “You’re a pack of thievin’ lowlifes!” screamed a woman. “We’re goin’ to come and take back all them things he stole! Just you try an’ stop us!”

  The mob began to edge forward again, shouting angrily. Lizzie knew they wouldn’t find any stolen goods in the caravans. But that wouldn’t stop them from helping themselves to whatever they liked.

  “Looks like there’s going to be a dustup,” Fitzy sighed. He took off his top hat and passed it to Malachy. “Keep that safe for me, lad. I’m due to open the show in ten minutes, and I don’t want to look like a scruff.”

  Lizzie could clearly see her father now through the crowd. He was rolling up his sleeves, baring his huge arms. She knew all too well what that meant. As if knocking me about weren’t enough. Now he’s going to hit my friends too.

  A fresh stab of cold fear went through Lizzie as she caught a glimpse of who was standing behind him. Tousled hair, pale face — was that Madame Aurora?

  “Get ’em!” someone screamed from the back of the mob.

  The crowd surged forward and broke through the perimeter, yelling and screaming. Fitzy and the others met their charge head-on and from that moment, it was every man for himself. Circus folk fought with rioters, rolling and tumbling in the dust.

  “Come on,” Malachy told Lizzie, tugging her arm. “We’d better get out of here.”