Tintin and the Theatre Thief

by Sherlock River Hekate

Tintin runs into an old friend, who has some surprising news. And an interesting adventure.

The sun was shining high in the sky as Tintin, followed by his white dog Snowy, arrived at Marlinspike hall. Carefully parking his motorbike, the young reporter dismounted and walked up to the large double doors. Knocking loudly, he waited patiently for Nestor, the butler, to open the doors.
"Hello sir, how may I help you?" Nestor spoke politely before a white dog dashed between his feet and he realised who was standing on the front porch.
"Hello Nestor," Tintin smiled, "Is the Captain in?"
The butler stepped aside, allowing the ginger haired man to enter.
"The master is in the library," he stated, "Would you like me to show you in?" They both knew that it would be pointless, but the butler asked anyway.
"No, thank you, I know the way." The reporter answered, looking around him for his dog.
They walked up the stairway, Tintin humming gently as he went.

"Hello Captain," Tintin greeted the sea captain, smiling at the surprised look on his face.
"Tintin!" He exclaimed, moving from his seat by the window to greet the younger man, "You didn't say that you'd be coming."
Tintin shrugged, "It seemed like a nice day."
"What have you been up to, lad?" The captain asked, bending down to scratch Snowy.
"Not much, finishing up my latest story." He took a seat beside where Captain Haddock had been seated reading the paper.
"Have you been to see the musical in town?" he asked abruptly, turning to look at the sea captain.
"No, I haven't," Captain Haddock replied, "Why is that?"
"I was talking to my friend at Le Petite Vingtieme, Remi," he began, "He said that this cast is quite brilliant, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in going."
The captain looked at him, "Sure, what is it?"
"Les Miserables, I believe," He reached for the paper, and flicked to the review, "Yes, here it is. Lots of singing, but it's not an opera."
It was agreed, that night they would go to see the musical.

The performance started off as normal, the orchestra booming from below them. However, there was a feeling creeping up on Tintin. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. At first he thought it might have been from the rain they had been caught in on the way into the theatre, but as he warmed up the feeling was yet to dissipate. During the performance, Tintin started twisting in his seat, scanning the crowd around him.
"What's the matter?" The captain asked, leaning over to Tintin.
"Nothing," he replied with a sigh, turning back to the stage. "I just had this feeling that I was being watched." He didn't see the curtain in the wing twitch ever so slightly.

"That was quite good. Your friend was right," Captain Haddock stated when they had returned home. "I didn't expect it to be quite so sad though. Blistering barnacles, everybody died!"
Tintin laughed, "Why Captain, haven't you heard of Les Miserables before? It translates to 'The miserable ones' after all."
"Well, I suppose you are correct," he conceded. "A drink before bed then?"
It wasn't that late yet, and Tintin didn't have to get back into town desperately tomorrow.
"Sure, why not?" He agreed as the Captain called for Nestor.

A while later, the two adventurers were talking by the fireplace when Nestor thought he heard a knock at the door. A few moments later the butler heard it again. A very faint knock at the door. Getting up from where he was seated in the kitchen, Nestor made his way to the front door. Who on earth would be visiting Captain Haddock at this time of the night, especially in this weather? Opening the door he came face to face with a bedraggled young woman.
"How may I help you?" He asked politely, watching her shiver and pull her soaked coat more tightly around her.
"I need to speak to Tintin," she replied, pushing her wet fringe out of her eyes with a shaking hand.
Nestor raised one eyebrow at her, before stepping aside and letting her step into the foyer of Marlinspike hall.
"If you would just wait here, I shall go and get him," he stated, before turning to go retrieve the reporter.

Nestor stepped the room, finding the Captain dozing lightly by the fireplace and Tintin reading in a chair, his dog sitting quietly beside him.
"Master Tintin?" Nestor spoke loudly enough to get his attention, hoping not to startle him.
"Hmmm?" the young man looked up, "What is it Nestor?"
"There is a young woman who is asking to see you," he replied.
The Captain had just woken, and smirked over at Tintin, "A young lass, eh? What have you been up to?"
Tintin blushed, "I'm sure I don't know who this lady is," he replied before standing up and walking to the door that Nestor had just vanished through, Snowy following at his heels.
"Hello Miss…" Tintin began, before stopping short and staring at the girl in front of him. Before he could say another word, Snowy came barrelling forward, yapping at the girl in excitement.
"Sara?" he questioned, looking at the girl standing before him.
"Hello Tintin," she replied, trying not to let her teeth chatter, "Long time, no see."
He smiled at the young woman. Her brown hair, which he remembered falling in loose waves, was now plastered to her head and her black coat was soaked through, dripping onto the tiled floor of the foyer. They had last seen each other many years ago, when Snowy was just a puppy. Her family had left Brussels to move to England somewhere, and the two had failed to stay in touch. Coming back to the present, Tintin realised that Sara must be drenched to the skin.
"Snowy!" He admonished his dog, who was jumping all over his friend, "Sara, it's good to see you. Come in and I will try and find something dry for you."

A hot shower and a change of clothes later, Sara was sitting by the fire with Captain Haddock, Tintin and Snowy, her clothes, dripping onto the floor in front of the fireplace.
"I see you still have an affinity for blue," She smiled, gesturing to the dressing gown she was wearing over a spare pair of the reporter's pyjamas.
"And I see you still have an obsession with coats," he countered, lightly. "And there is nothing wrong with blue, I see you still wear the scarf I gave you." The navy scarf was sitting next to the coat by the fireplace.
"It's by far the nicest scarf I own," she conceded.
"Why are you here?" Tintin asked curiously, "And come to think of it, how did you know to find me here and not at my apartment?"
"Asking all the right questions, as usual," She grinned, "I'm not surprised you became a reporter." She leant down to scratch Snowy before starting her story.
"I saw you at the theatre this evening, and I saw that you were with Captain Haddock here. It was easy to surmise that you would be returning to Marlinspike hall rather than returning to your apartment tonight. "
"If you saw me tonight, why didn't you come and say hello?" Tintin asked in surprise.
"You left before I had a chance to," she replied, "It takes a while for the whole stage to be cleared after a performance, but I had been keeping an eye on you during the performance."
"I knew it!" Tintin exclaimed, he turned to the Captain. "Didn't I say that I thought someone was watching me?"
"You did," he nodded, "But let her go on with her story, lad."
Tintin ducked his head, acknowledging what his older friend was saying.
"And that brings me to why I'm here. Our lead, Tatianna, has gone missing," Sara admitted.
"But she was performing just a few hours ago," the captain commented. "How could she be missing now?"
"I don't know," Sara confessed, "When we all went to go out for a few drinks, she wasn't in her dressing room. No one had seen here in a few hours. They all continued out, but I walked out here."
"What makes you so sure that she's missing and that she hadn't just gone out earlier?" Tintin asked, sensing there was a little more than Sara had been letting on.
"There's a little more to it than that," She admitted, "A few nights ago I saw someone skulking around the foyer of the theatre. They were there long after everyone else had gone, even most of the stage hands. And last night I thought I saw someone backstage after the performance, but it was only quick so I'm really not sure. "
Tintin was nodding, listening intently to every word she was saying. He agreed, there was something fishy about this.
"Not just that, there was a note, just after we finished casting," Sara was slowly getting sleepy by the fireplace, though she still felt cold. "It said," she yawned softly, "If we didn't cast Signora Castafiore as Fantine then we would deeply regret it. The note wasn't signed."
Tintin could sense there was a story in this somewhere.
"That sounds like some story, lass," the captain commented.
"So tell me what you have been up to," she said to Tintin. "Not the stories you print, the real stories."
As Tintin spoke, Sara felt herself getting more and more sleepy. She still couldn't quite warm up though. The problem with getting wet to the bone, she supposed.
"Tintin, I think your friend has fallen asleep," Captain Haddock said gently.
"Yes, I do believe she has," He looked over at Sara who was sleeping soundly with Snowy resting on her lap, "Only thing is, I don't really want to wake her."
The captain stood up, "Here, let me," he said as he carefully picked her up without waking her.
"Let's take her to one of the spare rooms," he said, carefully moving to the doorway.
"Actually, if you don't mind," Tintin began, "I was thinking that Sara could stay in my room." His face started to flush.
"Oh lad?" The captain smirked, "I knew there was something between the two of you!"
"I, what? No!" Tintin exclaimed in a hiss, "She's still shaking. She would stay warmer in a bed with another person and I would feel much more assured if I could make sure she wasn't attacked for coming here." He pursed his lips, "Somehow I think there is a bit more to this than a simple kidnapping."

Sara woke the next morning, sunlight streaming through a partially opened curtain.
'Where am I?' was her first thought. This was most certainly not her bedroom, and then the events of the night before started catching up with her. With a gasp, she sat up, looking around her. That's when she noticed the door on the other side of the room open and Tintin stepped out. Then Sara realised that the other side of the bed she had been sleeping in was rumpled, and that someone had definitely slept there last night.
"Good morning," Tintin said cheerfully, running a towel over his hair, "I hope you slept well."
"I, ah," She began before clearing her throat, "Yes, thank you. Am I in your room?"
"Well, yes," he admitted, "You were still shivering a little, so I asked the captain to leave you in here. He carried you up."
She nodded, running her fingers through her messy hair, "Thank you. I should go and ummm, get my clothes, they'd be dry by now." She swung her legs out of bed, and stretched.
"Actually, Nestor brought them up earlier." Tintin opened the curtains fully, letting the morning light into the room. "They're over there," he pointed to a chair by the door.
She padded over to the chair, sweeping up her clothing into her arms.
"I assume the shower is in there?" she asked.
"Yes, you'll find a spare towel on the towel rail," he replied.

After breakfast they decided to go down to the theatre to see if anything new had developed.
"If you don't mind, I think I might stop by my room to change clothes," She stopped to turn down a small road. "Just imagine the talk if I turn up with a handsome, world famous reporter in the same clothes I was wearing last night." She turned and darted down the road, the wind blowing through her hair. Tintin blushed, she'd always liked to tease him, and it seems that time and absence hadn't changed that habit.
"Come on Captain," Tintin turned towards the theatre, "No point waiting for her. Let's head to the theatre."
"If you say so Tintin," He replied, strolling alongside the boy and his dog.

They got to the theatre before Sara, walking into the empty foyer. There were two men in the corner of the room, frantically talking to each other.
'They must be the producers,' Tintin thought.
"What are you two doing here?" One of the men asked.
"My name is Tintin," He said, walking over to them.
"The reporter?" One of them asked, "What are you doing here? Does the press know already?"
'Know what?' Tintin thought, 'Do I admit that Sara's told me or not?'
"Do the press know about what?" He asked innocently, nudging the Captain, "We came to congratulate you on such a good show last night."
"Ah, okay," The other one replied, "Thank you so much for that!"
"Yes right," The captain replied awkwardly, the flamboyance unsettling him a little.
"I was just wondering," Tintin started, "If it isn't too much trouble for me to talk to some of the cast and crew?"
"Umm," One of them started.
"Yes, that would be no problem," The more flamboyant of the two replied. "Just not Tatianna Fleming, she's unavailable this morning."
Nodding, Tintin and Captain Haddock followed him backstage.

A little while later Sara bumped into Tintin and Captain Haddock in the greenroom. Well, bumped into was probably a bit of an overstatement. Snowy had come and found her, tugging on her pants until she followed him.
"Have you found anything Mr reporter?" She smiled at him, as she walked into the nearly empty green room.
"Hello to you too," Captain Haddock replied to her.
"So that's where you got to," Tintin said to the dog, who was looking at him happily. "Actually yes, we did find some information." He directed that at Sara.
"Well," She asked.
"You weren't the only one to see a figure those nights," He said, "A couple of the other stage hands thought they saw something too."
"That's a relief," She laughed, "I'm not going mad."
"There was a mention of a note this morning too," The captain added.
"Yes, and I know someone who saw the note," Sara grinned cheekily, "Follow me gentlemen and Snowy."

They walked through the hallways, trying to keep up with the girl who was darting around in front of them, dodging people like she'd been doing it for years.
'She probably has been,' Tintin thought, 'She always loved the theatre.'
Finally they arrived at a large room, and stepping inside they found rows and rows of clothes and quite a bit of material.
"Aimee, etes-vous ici?" She called out, her voice ringing through the room.
"Oiu," A young woman with hair redder than Tintin's stepped out from behind something. "Ca baigne?"
"I'm good Hun," She said, embracing her friend, "But English from now on?"
"Sure," she replied, her speech now accented slightly British.
"These are my friends," Sara gestured to the two men behind her, "Captain Haddock and Tintin, and this is Snowy." The small ball of fur was sitting quietly beside his owner.
"Pleased to meet you," she said politely. The young woman standing in front of them was nothing like Captain Haddock or Tintin had ever seen before. Her short red hair was tied back into two pigtails, a white beret perched on her head. She was wearing a flowy dress, reds and browns colouring the material and matching the brown leather boots she was wearing on her feet. Matching her white beret was a white scarf loosely looped around her neck. Overall she looked very cheerful and just a bit French.
"But I don't this is a just a visit," her brown eyes sparkled, "What do you and your team of detectives want?"
"Well," Tintin began, "Sara mentioned that you saw the note this morning. I was rather hoping you could tell me what was on it."
Aimee picked up a dress, searching for the matching thread and turned to the others. Tintin had a notebook in hand, ready to take notes.
"Right, well the note went something like this," She paused to thread the needle, " 'I have warned you once but you did not listen. This is your punishment. Now you have no choice. The Signora deserves better than how you have been treating her, she is the star that Fantine deserves.' It wasn't signed."
Sara nodded, she thought that it was similar to the first note. But Captain Haddock had picked up on something.
"It says Signora on there," he stated, "Tell me that it is not who I think it is."
Sara and Aimee grimaced. "If you are thinking that it is Signora Bianca Castafiore, then you are sadly quite correct," Sara stated with a sigh.
"Billions of blue blistering barnacles!" Captain Haddock exclaimed, "Why does she keep appearing?"
"But isn't she the wrong age for Fantine?" Tintin asked curiously.
Aimee laughed dryly, "You should have seen her when she auditioned, she was most upset that she didn't get offered the role on the spot.
"So, you think that whoever is behind this is a fan of Castafiore's?" Captain Haddock asked, slightly bemused by the idea that she has fans.
"I think that might be a good place to start," Tintin agreed, "But who do we start with?"
Sara smiled, "That's your job. Mine's to get the theatre ready for tonight's performance, and Madam Castafiore's big appearance."
The three left Aimee to her mess of material.
"I had best getting back to my actual job," Sara muttered, "Not that I want to work with her."
Captain Haddock murmured his agreement.

That evening Tintin and Captain Haddock were sitting in the library discussing their success, or lack thereof, during the day. Despite talking to many people in the cast and crew, Tintin still wasn't sure who Castafiore's mystery fan was.
"You know," Tintin began, "It's entirely possible that the mystery writer isn't a member of the cast and crew at all."
"That's true lad," the captain replied, "And if that's the case, how are we going to find out who did this? It doesn't seem likely that they'll just hand Tatianna over."
"No, I don't think they will," he agreed, "If they did, she would just be placed back in her role as Fantine and they wouldn't have achieved their goal."
"So what do we do now?" the old sailor asked.
"Now we hope that Sara has something I suppose," The reporter replied.

It was much later that night that there was a knock on the front doors. It was well past midnight and Nestor was already in bed. The noise woke Snowy, who in turn woke Tintin, who was in the habit of sleeping lightly after all the times he had been attacked on his adventures. Tintin grabbed a dressing gown, throwing it on over his pyjamas. He carefully made his way downstairs, hoping that it wasn't an intruder. This time he heard the knock on the door, and made his way over. Pulling the door open he once more found Sara standing at the doorstep to Marlinspike hall, but this time she was dry and had a small bag in her hands.
"Hey," She said with a lopsided smile, "Can I stay here the night?"
"Sure," Tintin replied, "But why aren't you staying at the hotel?"
She walked straight in, and headed towards the staircase.
"I think someone was following me to my room," She replied, "So I slipped out a back door of the hotel and got a taxi here."
Tintin took the bag from her tired hands, "Come on then."
"I think I'll be right to sleep in my own room like a big girl tonight," she gave a small smirk.
The reporter shook his head at her in amusement, "Of course you can," he said opening a door in the hallway, "This one alright for you ma'am?"
"Yep," came a tired reply as Sara walked forward and face planted onto the bed.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning then," he said before closing the door.
There was a muffled hum before Sara fell into a tired sleep.

The next morning Sara, Tintin and Captain Haddock were sitting down to breakfast, chatting idly.
"You were saying something about being followed," Tintin began, taking a sip from his tea.
"Ah, yes," Sara began, "There was that. I just caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye in the reflection of shop windows. I don't know I could be wrong." She shrugged. "I had a feeling and figured here was safer."
"Thundering typhoons," Captain Haddock stated, "You think there is someone after you? Why?"
Sara smiled grimly, "I think Tintin spooked someone yesterday."
"Is it safe for you to return to the theatre?" Tintin asked.
"Well," She started, "We'll know if it's someone in the city or not soon enough. Last night was our last performance in Belgium, we return to the West End in a few days."
Before anyone could say anymore, Professor Calculus walked into the room.
"Good morning Captain Haddock," He greeted. "Good morning Tintin."
They both greeted him, but as he sat down the Professor noticed the young lady in the room.
"Hello young lady," he said politely, "Who are you?"
"Professor, this is my childhood friend Sara," Tintin replied, talking slowly and carefully, hoping that the hard of hearing professor would understand him.
"What are you talking about, firewood trend? I asked you about this young lady."
However, before anyone could reply there was a loud noise and Nestor hurriedly made his way into the room.
"I'm sorry Master Haddock, I tried to stop her," He said, before a pink blur came bursting into the room.
"Aaah Captain Paddock," she sang, "How nice to see you again!"
Captain Haddock had a grip on his fork that turned his knuckles white, while Sara was scowling into her cup. Luckily Tintin remembered his manners, and stood up to kiss her hand.
"Madam Castafiore, it's a pleasure to see you again," He said, kissing her hand. As he sat back down Sara raised her eyebrows at him, he merely shrugged his shoulders. It was just then that the Milanese Nightingale noticed the young girl sitting at the table.
"You! What are you doing here girl?" She all but shouted, "How dare you follow me to see my friends!"
Before Castafiore could say anymore, Sara stood up and swiftly walked towards her room.
"Madam," Tintin began, but before he could say anything further the captain spoke up.
"Thundering typhoons woman!" He shouted, "Calm down. That 'girl' is one of Tintin's best friends."
The singer turned to Tintin to see if that was true.
"I have known Sara since we were children," Tintin said placidly, "I understand she is a stage hand for the production."
"Pah, stage hand, ' she said contemptuously, "That child needs to learn to take orders from her superiors."
Tintin was a little confused with what was going on. He knew that Signora Castafiore could be a little difficult, but he couldn't understand why she would have such a huge problem with his friend. As he was thinking that, the girl in question walked into the room.
"Captain," She addressed the man, "Would you mind driving me into the city while the Signora, Tintin and the professor can get reacquainted?"
Captain Haddock, sensing an escape, jumped at the chance and walked out of the room.
"Much as I would love to stay," he called, grabbing his coat, "It is only polite of me to take this young lady into the city."
Tintin didn't really feel like staying, and knowing that it would be in the best interest of the case to follow Sara. Plus, Calculus would be more than happy to entertain their singer guest than the rest of them.
"Hold on Captain." He turned to Castafiore, "I apologise madam but I must go."
With that he too grabbed his coat and they made their way towards the Captain's car.

The parked by the theatre and walked towards the classical stone façade. As the trio and Snowy walked into the carpeted foyer, a red and white blur came darting forward and embraced Sara in a hug, babbling in French and English.
"O mon Dieu!" she exclaimed, "You would not believe it! Est incroyable, terrible. Pauvre Tony."
"Woah, slow down," Sara said holding her friend at arm's length. Aimee's normally neat red and white polka dot dress was rumpled and her red hair was a mess from having her hands running through it.
"What's happened?" She asked, "In English this time."
Aimee took a deep breath and started again.
"It's Tony," She said, "He was pulling down some of the backdrops, and he called out that he'd found something. And O mon dieu! The next thing we know he was falling from the bridge. My boyfriend was right there, in the orchestra pit and he saw everything."
Everyone looked at her in shock, this was not what they expected.
"Oh mio Dio," Sara exclaimed, "Lui va bene?"
"Sara, English," Tintin reprimanded gently.
"Oh right sorry," she muttered, "But is he ok?"
"Yea," Aimee replied, "But this is a disaster, we are one person down now and no time to find a replacement for the West End."
A light was shining in Sara's eyes as she turned to Tintin. "What do you think?"
He smiled, "I've never worked in the theatre before, but it can't be that hard."
"Blistering barnacles lad," Captain Haddock exclaimed, "Are you really going to take the place of someone who was thrown from a height because he found something?"
"Of course," Tintin exclaimed, "Sounds like fun."
"We'd better go offer you up to Carrara and Fortier as a replacement line boy," Sara said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards their offices and Aimee walking alongside.
"Boyfriend," Sara hissed, "You mean the cellist finally asked you out?"
Aimee just hummed and smirked at her.

Later that day Sara and Aimee, along with the Captain and Tintin, were sitting in a little café having a late lunch.
"So you speak Italian," the sea captain said to Sara.
"Yes, and a little French, as well as English," She said, "My mother was Italian and my father, British. We travelled around Europe a lot. It was actually in Yorkshire that I met Aimee."
"That would explain her accented English," Tintin grinned, "You speak it like a native, the same with French."
Aimee smiled and picked up her cup, "That's what happens when you have a posh French woman for a mother and a father from the British isles."
Tintin nodded, that explained a lot.
"Are you coming to England with us Captain?" Aimee asked.
"I think I might," He replied, sitting back and stoking his pipe, "I haven't been there since I was a lad."
"Picked it!" Sara exclaimed, "I told you Aimee."
She smiled and handed her a note, shaking her head slightly.
"Wait, what were you betting on?" Tintin asked.
"Where the good Captain was from," Aimee replied.
"And I guessed right," Sara replied.
"Alright you jokers," The captain laughed, "You had a point that you were going to make?"
Sara nodded, "I did. I was wondering what you were going to do for accommodation? I could give one of you somewhere to stay, if you don't mind sleeping on a spare mattress on the floor or my couch."
Tintin and Captain Haddock quietly discussed their options, debating various options. While they did that, Sara and Aimee chatted away aimlessly. At last the two men seemed to have come to a decision.
"I think it would be easier for you if we both stayed in a hotel," Tintin said, "Plus, that way you won't get into trouble because of Snowy."
"Crumbs, I hadn't thought of that," Sara conceded.
When the Captain raised his eyebrows at her she shrugged her shoulders.
"I learnt it from him," she said, tipping her head towards the ginger boy across the table from her, who just grinned.
"Hey, that's not the only thing I learnt from you," she winked at him. The whole table erupting into laughter as Tintin went roughly the same colour as his hair.

Two days later they were crossing the channel by train, chatting in a carriage with a few of the members of the orchestra, including Aimee's new boyfriend. Snowy was sitting quietly beside his master, half stretched out on Sara. Suddenly, the white dog sat upright and started growling, a rumbling sound low in his throat. Everyone fell silent, wondering what had spooked the normally quite placid dog. Tintin stood up, carefully opening the carriage door. A figure shot out from behind somewhere, darting into a new carriage. Before Tintin could start after the figure a blast could be heard and the whole carriage shook, before a horrid smelling thick smoke started engulfing the area. Coughing and stumbling everyone attempted to make their way out of that section of the train. They reached the door separating them from the other section of the train, and the Captain pulled on it. It wouldn't budge. He tried again, pulling harder. It still didn't move.
"Billions of blue blistering barnacles!" He shouted, "It can't get it open."
"Let me try," Tintin called, trying not to inhale anymore of the black smoke than was necessary. He too couldn't move the door. This was strange, it was locked, but there were no locks on these doors for safety reasons. It was then that he noticed the door was shut with a broom through the handle. That would be difficult to break; they'd never get it done before they were overcome with the smoke.
"Tintin, why can't we get out the door?" Sara called.
"It's jammed shut," he called back, coughing.
With that Aimee picked up something and threw it through the window. With the speed that the train was going, the dark cloudy smoke was sucked out of the carriage. Everyone took huge gasps of the fresh air.
"I think someone isn't happy that Tintin and the Captain are following us," Sara said, her voice a little hoarse from the smoke and coughing.
"And they decided to kill all of us?" Aimee asked in surprise.
"You'd be surprised how often that happens," Captain Haddock replied.
They wondered how much trouble they would be in from the broken window, but overall it was preferable to being suffocated from toxic smoke.
"Well this narrows down the list of people who could be responsible," Tintin commented.
"How?" Captain Haddock exclaimed, "Thundering typhoons lad, the whole cast and crew is on this train as well normal passengers."
"It can only be a member of the cast and crew then," Tintin reasoned with a smile.
Just then the train started to slow and everyone grabbed their bags, preparing to disembark.

That evening, purely because Captain Haddock couldn't find a way to get himself out of it, he and Tintin were sitting in a London restaurant having dinner with Signora Castafiore and her maid.
"So what brings you to England," She asked the duo.
"Don't you know?" Tintin asked in surprise, "I'm replacing Tony after he fell from the ropes."
"Aaah, those silly boys. Always running around and getting themselves into danger," she sang.
"Don't I know it," the Captain mumbled, casting a look at the ginger reporter. Tintin's lips quirked in a small smile.
"What was that Captain Hammock?" the singer queried.
"Oh nothing," he replied.
Tintin figured he should probably change the topic. The reporter in him was curious to see what the Milanese nightingale thought of the disappearance of the actress she was replacing.
"Signora," Tintin began, "What do you think of the kidnapping of Tatianna?"
The singer scoffed. "Kidnapping, pah! She's a silly young girl. She probably went off with some young man, and will turn up begging for her part back. That's what you get for casting an amateur!"
"But what about the notes," Tintin pressed, "They certainly make it sound like a kidnapping."
"Nonsense," Castafiore countered, "A ruse by the directors to cause a scandal, that's all."
Tintin nodded and sat back, he would get no useful information from the singer. Wisely he didn't mention the attack in the train or the figure that was following Sara, she didn't seem to like his childhood friend much anyway. He really didn't think that the renowned opera singer was in on whatever was going on. She wasn't that good of a liar.

The next morning Tintin and Snowy got up early, preparing to head to the theatre for a day of learning the ropes (literally) and rehearsing for the first performance of on the West End in two days' time. About ten minutes before he was thinking of leaving the hotel, the room telephone rang. Tentatively, Tintin picked up the phone.
"Hello, Tintin speaking," he said clearly.
"It better be," A cheerful female voice floated through the speaker.
"Hello Sara," He replied, "Why are you calling me, am I running late?"
"No not at all," she replied, "But I'll be in the foyer in about 4 minutes with breakfast. Your well-formed butt better be down there to meet me."
The reporter rolled his eyes, a small flush creeping up his neck. He would never get used to her, or anyone, saying things like that.
"I'll meet you down there," he confirmed before they rang off.
True to his word, a few minutes later Tintin and his faithful dog were waiting patiently in the foyer for the dark haired stage hand. Right on time, she strolled in, brown paper bags of food in hand. Again she was wearing a coat, maroon this time, over a pair of dark jeans, and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. The wind must have been cool outside, giving her cheeks a healthy flush.
"It's just a chocolate croissant," She said, passing the bag over. "Not the most terrible thing in the world, and you'll want the energy from the sugar."
"Will it be that bad?" Tintin asked, raising his eyebrows at her.
"You have no idea," she replied ominously, before they stepped out into the English air.

Just as they reached the theatre, Sara turned to Tintin and grabbed his wrist, pushing up his sleeve.
"Take that off," she ordered.
The reporter looked at her in confusion, a small flush starting on his neck.
"W-what?" He asked.
The brunette rolled her eyes and let go of his arm. "Your watch," she responded, "It'll only get caught in ropes, and that's just plain dangerous. What were you thinking?" She smirked.
He cleared his throat and shook his head at her, then removed his watch, and went to pocket it.
"Here, give it to me," she sighed. "Less likely to fall out of my pocket than yours."
They walked into the theatre through the back door, dodging other performers that were running around madly.
"Snowy, follow Sara," Tintin instructed, knowing full well that his dog would bark and whine if he couldn't follow his master.
"I don't think he'll be any less in the way following me, Tintin," she commented, "But I'm sure Aimee will be happy to see Snowy."
"Okay, see you at lunch," Tintin called out as they parted ways.
He missed Sara's small laugh and the muttered "If we get lunch at all."

It was well past midday, closer to 2pm, when Tintin finally had a break and went to see Aimee in one of the dressing rooms. Just as he reached the door, Sara came from the other direction, her coat missing and the sleeves of her top pushed up to her elbows.
"Hey, I was just coming to grab Snowy and get something to eat," He greeted her.
"Food sounds divine," she replied, "Come on, let's get out of here before we get pulled into some other task."
They opened the door to an explosion of material and colours, and mumbled curses in French that had Tintin's ears turning pink.
"Aimee," Sara called out, having no idea where her friend was in the mess of the room. "Tintin and I are heading out to grab food with Snowy. Do you want anything?"
"Oui, food would be great, " the voice replied, "Signora Castafiore is making me redo half her costumes, she's only in like 20 minutes of the musical. Chiant ça me fait chier!"
With that expletive uttered, the reporter and the stage hand backed out of the room, Snowy following.
"I think she's a bit stressed," Sara said wryly.
Tintin chuckled, and the continued towards a small café in the West End district.

That night, Sara, Tintin and Captain Haddock were having a meal in Sara's apartment, filling the Captain in on their days work. He himself had taken a look around London, visiting places he hadn't been since he was a boy.
"So did you find anything, gallivanting about up there?" the old sailor asked Tintin.
"Actually I did," He replied, "I found out that you can see everything on stage and into the wings. If someone was up there they can see everything."
Sara scoffed while she was stirring their dinner, "I could have told you that."
"Not just that though," Tintin replied, "No one can see who is up there, anyone could be walking on the fly and you wouldn't know. Add to that the fact that one of the prop blankets is missing…" He trailed off. Everyone knew what he was thinking, up on the fly is the perfect place to wait for someone before kidnapping them.
"Do you think we have any chance of even finding Tatianna?" Sara asked gloomily.
"Of course there is," the Captain burst out, "It's what Tintin does best, run off after villains and foil their plans." Snowy yapped in agreement.
"I don't know if I should be insulted or complimented by that Captain," Tintin smiled.
"It was a compliment lad," the Captain replied gruffly, "I think," he added quietly.
Sara tried not to choke when she heard that.
"Are you going to the ball tomorrow?" Sara asked, as she continued to prepare dinner.
"What ball's this, Tintin?" Captain Haddock asked, curiously.
"There's a ball to launch the musical tomorrow evening," Tintin replied, "All the cast and crew, as well as some of the more affluential members of English society."
"So," Sara pressed, "Are you going? It's a good chance to have a look at everyone in a more relaxed setting."
"Well, we each get a plus one," Tintin began, "So if the Captain wants to go, then I will as well."
"Lad, do you think that's such a good idea?" The sailor asked.
"If you have a problem going as Tintin's plus one, then come as mine," Sara replied, knowing that people would probably talk either way.
"What would I do as at a ball?" he asked in confusion.
"More eyes might pick up something unusual," Tintin reasoned.
"That's it," Sara commented with a laugh, "You're coming with us."
Captain Haddock rolled his eyes and grumbled an affirmative response, but underneath his bushy beard his lips quirked in a small smile. It would be an interesting evening indeed, if his last experience of events with Tintin was anything to go by.

The next night, the three of them and Snowy met in Sara's apartment before they were due to arrive at the ball. Everyone was a little nervous, and the directors had been stressing all day due to the prolonged disappearance of one of their leading ladies. The fact that a world renowned opera singer did nothing to ease their fears, especially as it was Signora Castafiore.
Tintin was dressed in a brown suit, his ginger quiff still sticking up. He had learnt long ago that nothing could be done to tame that. The Captain was dressed in a neat suit, his beard trimmed and a monocle sitting over one eye. Sara herself was dressed in a long red dress, her hair curled gently and falling on her bare shoulders.
"Ready for tonight?" She asked with a smile.
"As ready as I'm ever going to be for one of these blasted events," the Captain mumbled. "You look nice lass," he commented.
Sara smiled gently, "Thank you Captain," she replied, "It's not often I get to dress up a bit."
"You do look very nice in that dress," Tintin complimented, knowing that his friend deserved that comment.
"Wait until you see me out of it," she replied with a wink, her red lips twisting in a smirk.
Tintin choked and flushed red, while the Captain just raised his eyebrows in surprise. With that the trio headed out to the theatre for the ball.

The first half of the night passed mostly without incident. The captain had been caught in multiple conversations with English ladies, most of whom who had designs on the good Captain marrying them or their single daughters. Sara spent most of the night with Aimee and some of the other crew, scanning the room every now and then for anyone who seemed uncomfortable or acting just plain strange. It wasn't until about half past ten that something really unusual happened. Sara had gone over to talk with Tintin and Captain Haddock, the three standing in a secluded corner of the room, when the two directors came rushing over.
"Sara, you and monsieur Tintin are looking into Tatianna's disappearance are you not?" One of them said.
"Well, yes," She replied, "How did you know?"
"He is the reporter known around the world for investigating unusual stories," The other director replied, "I think that this is classed as one unusual case."
"Why are you looking for us?" Tintin asked, curious as to why they had been approached in the middle of the busy event.
"Come with us and we will explain," they were told.

They were directed into one of the offices of the theatre, tucked away from the party where no one could stumble upon them. Snowy followed silently behind, looking around him. When they were all in the room, the two men turned to them.
"We received this note from the kidnapper just before," one of them said, holding out a note.
"If we don't do something Tatianna will die," the other lamented.
"But we aren't going to just give in, Castafiore is terrible in this role," the other exclaimed.
Tintin held the note, Captain Haddock peering over his shoulder and Sara leaning into look at his other side.
"You were warned," Tintin read, "And yet you didn't listen. Now I must take drastic measures. All you had to do was cast Signora Castafiore. You have much to learn. Say goodbye to your beloved Tatianna."
Sara looked up, "That's not good."
"The sea gherkin," Captain Haddock cursed.
"How did you receive this?" Tintin asked.
"It was handed to us by someone in a mask," came the reply.
"What did they look like?" Tintin pressed.
"Umm, a dark coat and a mask," one of them replied, "A red mask with gold trimming."
"The devil's mask," the other man replied dramatically.

"You know," Sara commented, "There's something eerily familiar about these events."
"Oh?" Captain Haddock inquired.
"Kidnapped star, jealousy, now a man in a mask turning up with a threat at a ball," Sara prompted, "not to mention the mysterious notes and the injured assistant."
"Oh, OH," Tintin exclaimed, "It's the Phantom of the Opera."
Sara smirked at him, nodding.
"But if the kidnapper is following the lead of the Phantom," Tintin speculated "Then Tatianna is in grave danger."
"The programs, even the cast list, hasn't been released to the public," Sara mused.
"Then how did this bashi bazouk know that Casteroily was still the understudy?"
"It confirms our suspicions," Tintin noted, "This has to be a member of the cast or crew."
"But there is no way of knowing which of them delivered the note," Sara said glumly.
"Is everyone in attendance at the Ball?" Tintin asked.
The directors confirmed this, but Sara pointed out that it would take no effort at all to change a suit and place a different mask on. There was no point looking for their Phantom among the guests in attendance that night.

The next day was busy, the last rehearsal before opening, the directors having given the majority of the cast the day off before opening night. There was no chance for either Tintin or Sara to do much investigating, both being run off their feet in their respective tasks. The rehearsal went off without a hitch, unless you counted Madame Castafiore screeching her way through 'I dreamed a dream'. During a break, most of the crew sat in the green room, chatting in general.
"Castafiore needs to be taught to act," Sara muttered, reaching for a bottle of water that was sitting on a table, "None of her usual tricks of swanning around the stage will work well for this."
Tintin looked at her with a small smile, not daring to actually make a comment. A few moments later a group of the crew walked in.
"How good is Signora Castafiore?" One of them asked, her eyes shining.
"She is simply marvellous," her friend confirmed.
"Such a strong voice," One of the men agreed, "And she cuts a nice figure in the dress for 'I Dreamed a Dream'." The rest of them nodded in agreement.
"Much better than that pathetic wraith they had cast as Fantine," he went on, "She was a bitch."
Tintin and Sara watched the group with barely veiled curiosity. These could well be the people they are looking for.

Quickly the two raced to the costume room, knowing that amongst the chaos Aimee would be able to provide them with some sort of privacy.
Hurriedly the knocked on her door.
"Aimme, ma Cherie," Sara called, "Open up!"
The woman opened the door, taking in their expressions and the urgency of Sara's tone.
"What do you need?" She asked.
"Somewhere with a little privacy," Tintin replied.
"Ah oui," she replied with a wink, "Come in, I was just leaving."
Sara started laughing as she walked in, Tintin turning an interesting shade and stammering. "No,no, nor for.." He trailed off, when he realised that Aimee was just teasing.
The sat down in amongst the trails of material that were everywhere around the room. All the costume fixing had been done but a lot of the older or slightly damaged costumes were still stored in here.
"That group seemed to be a big fan of Madame Castafiore," Tintin commented.
"Oh yes," Sara agreed with a grimace, "But which one of them is the most likely to have taken Tatianna?"
"Who are we talking about?" Aimee asked in interested.
"A group of the stage hands seem to be very impressed with Bianca Castafiore," Tintin replied.
"They aren't all stage hands," Sara commented. "And one of them definitely didn't seem to like Tatianna at all."
Aimee looked at her, thinking. "Was Robert one of them?" she asked, "The kinda chubby sound guy, you know the one?" She directed this at Sara.
Sara thought for a minute, "Yes, he was. He was the one that had some interesting things to say about Tati, actually."
"How did you guess that," Tintin asked in surprise.
"I overheard him complaining to someone that she had turned him down the other day," Aimee commented. "Something about it wasn't fair that she had 'friendzoned' him after all he had done to help her, and how did she think she would get anyone better looking like she did."
Sara winced and buried her head in her hands, while Tintin had a look of mild horror on his face.
"He wasn't aware that Tati has a long term boyfriend?" Sara commented, "He was in the orchestra for most of last season, the only reason he isn't at the moment is because he's visiting family in America somewhere."
Aimee just shook her head and laughed grimly.
"Well I think we found our culprit," Tintin commented dryly.

Once rehearsal had finished for that afternoon, Tintin waited around. He was watching Robert, waiting for him to leave. The plan was that the reporter would follow their suspect to see if he went to check on Tatianna, wherever he had her hidden. Then Tintin would return to the Captain and together the two men would try to free Tatianna, while Sara created some sort of emergency at the theatre that required Robert's attendance.
Finally, Robert left the theatre, pulling on a grubby jacket and fingerless gloves before heading out into the English afternoon. Waiting a few minutes, enough that it doesn't look obvious but he could still see Robert ahead of him, Tintin also exited the theatre. They would their way through the streets, slowly heading towards what the reporter believed to be Totenham. From what Sara and Aimee had been saying, this was not a very nice area of London. Tintin continued on, glad that Snowy was sticking close to his heels. If nothing the dog had a strong bite, and he had seen the little terrier take down his share of attackers in the past.
Finally Robert came to a stop before what looked like an abandoned greengrocer's, the type of typical old shop with the store below and an apartment above. Carefully Tintin crept close to the window, hoping to hear something that confirmed that their missing lead was held captive in there.
There was a murmur of a male voice, and then cry from a higher pitched voice and more murmuring. Even though he couldn't be sure that it was Tatianna, it sounded like someone was being held captive in the building. Slowly, Tintin walked away from the building and the reporter and his loyal dog made their way hurriedly back to the West End district.

"I found her," Tintin announced, swinging the door to his shared rooms open.
Captain Haddock looked up from the armchair he had been sitting, placing the newspaper down to look at the red head standing in the door way.
"Well, out with it lad," The older man demanded.
Man and dog walked in and sat in a chair, catching his breath slightly.
"He's hiding her in an old shop in Totenham," He announced, "I have no idea where, but I am certain that Tatianna is in there." Snowy yapped in agreement, he had definitely heard another voice in that derelict building.
The Captain went to his bedroom to find an old pistol that he taken with him. It may not be strictly legal, but he figured that so long as no one found out he would be fine. While he did that, Tintin rang Sara and she made her way over to where they were staying.

Sara, after ringing some friends, had concocted a relatively fail proof plan to distract Robert and keep him at the theatre long enough for Tintin and the Captain to free Tatianna and take her far enough away that she would be safe. A few of the stage hands and sound people were willing to do a sound and stage check for Signora Castafiore, and they all knew that she would be more than happy to come in and make sure that she sounded and looked the best that she could. While Sara rang Robert, Tintin and Captain Haddock donned their coats, with Snowy walked excitedly around their feet. They parted ways a few minutes later, Sara heading to the theatre.

Once Robert arrived at the theatre, Sara sent a quick text to Tintin, informing that the coast was clear.
The two men and dog then swiftly made their way through the streets of London, heading towards the notorious Totenham area, and hopefully to free the poor girl who had been kidnapped.

They encountered no problems making their way to the building, Tintin remembering all twists and turns, and Snowy running ahead every so often. The Captain raised his bushy eyebrows when he saw the state of the place.
"She's being kept in there?" He asked.
"I believe so," Tintin replied, cautiously approaching the door.
It creaked open when he pushed it, dust being stirred up on the floor. Slowly, everyone entered the building.
"Tatianna," Tintin called out, "We are friends of Sara. Are you in here?"
There appeared to be no reply.
"Tatianna?" He called out again, this time a little louder.
Snowy yapped, and ran towards a door. As they approached, they began to hear a muffled sound from down below.

Meanwhile, in the theatre everything seemed to be going along smoothly. Sara suddenly say Robert check his phone, a frown crossing his face. He turned and said something to one of the others in the sound box, and then exited the room. Sara panicked, he was leaving! Without a thought she followed after him. Little did she know that Bianca Castafiore was watching her, adamant to catch the 'slack' girl being lazy. Shortly after Sara left the theatre, Bianca stepped into a cab and demanded that it follow her. Partway there, Sara realised that Robert was heading towards Totenham. Tintin and Captain Haddock must have triggered an alarm when they entered the shop, and now Robert was heading straight for them. As she continued to follow Robert, Sara hurriedly sent a text to Tintin, warning him that Robert was on his way.

Tintin heard his phone beep as they descended the stairs. Behind him Captain Haddock gave a strangled curse.
"What was that?" He muttered.
Tintin pulled his phone out, checking the message.
"That was from Sara," he whispered, "Robert's on his way back."
They both hurried down the remaining stairs, Tintin holding a torch to sweep the cellar. In one corner, tied to a creaky wooden chair was the young woman they had both seen on the stage that night. Her hair was a mess of knots, and there were bruises and a couple of cuts on her face. Snowy was standing next to her, worriedly pacing around her restrained ankles. There was a piece of cloth shoved in her mouth and bound behind her head, effectively gagging her. Both men rushed over to her, Captain Haddock removing a pocket knife and reaching down to cut her ankles free while Tintin unknotted the gag from around her mouth.
"Who are you?" Were her first words.
"My name is Tintin," He replied, "And this is Captain Haddock and my dog, Snowy." He gestured to each in turn.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, eyes wide in worry, "Did Robert send you?"
"No, no," Tintin replied with a smile, "We are friends with Sara, she noticed that you had gone missing and we have been working to find you ever since."
The young woman sagged in relief, as Captain Haddock cut the binds around her wrists. There were angry red marks from where she had struggled against her bonds.
"Just wait until I get my hands on that iconoclast," Captain Haddock swore, as they both helped her to her feet.
"Can you walk?" Tintin asked, still supporting some of her weight.
Tatianna nodded shakily, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.
"Sorry to rush you," the Captain began, and then there was a crashing sound above them and Tatianna screamed. Robert had reached the shop, and he didn't sound very happy. He stormed down the stairs, shouting curses and abuse. Sara grabbed at Robert's jacket from behind, trying to at least slow him down. Her hand grabbed the damp and smelly material and she tried not to recoil. Roughly Robert jerked around, knocking Sara off balance. She stumbled and Robert pushed her, sending her tumbling in a mess of limbs down the stairs. Robert reached the bottom pf the stairs, seeing Tatianna propped up between the reporter and the sea captain. He toed Sara out of the way, stalking towards his captive.
"Where do you think you are going?" He demanded, "You are mine. You will stay here!"
He turned to the two men, "If you go now I won't have to kill you too," He sneered. "Then again, the world could do without Tintin's interference. How do you think your dear friend Madame Castafiore would like it if I told her that you were conspiring to take her role away from her?"
At that point a high trill rang out from by the door way.
"Do I hear my naaame?" came the opera singer's voice.
Robert spun in surprise.
"Madame Castafiore!" He stuttered, "I, what, what are you doing here?"
"I came to catch the young stage hand in the act of running away from her job," she replied, and then as Robert took a step towards her, she saw Tatianna and Tintin behind him.
"Tintin! What is going on here?" She exclaimed, "What happened to the poor bambina?"
"This is the original Fantine," Tintin explained as Tatianna sunk into the chair, Captain Haddock standing guard over her.
"This man kidnapped her and held her here so that you could get the role," he explained in a level voice.
"O mio dio!" Castafiore exclaimed, then rounded on the man. "The way you have treated her, despicable!"
She continued to rant at him, and that took his attention from Sara lying on the floor. She slowly came round, reaching for a broken piece of wood. Quickly, she slid it along the floor towards Tintin's feet. Deftly, he picked it up, and used it to sweep Robert off his feet. When he was lying on the floor, Tintin grabbed the restraints that had been used to tie Tatianna up, and bound her captor.

Once the police had come to collect the criminal, and Tatianna had been taken to the hospital, Tintin, Captain Haddock and Sara were sitting in Madame Castafiore's hotel room.
"We really do have to thank you," Tintin admitted to the singer, "Without your help, we would never have been able to distract him long enough to restrain him."
"Ah, it was no problem," She sang, "It was thrilling to be part of one of your adventures."
"I, for one, would have been glad if this production hadn't devolved into a kidnapping case," Sara commented dryly. Next to her, Captain Haddock exclaimed "Here, here!"
"And Sara wasn't slacking off," Tintin joked, smiling at her.
Madame Castafiore made a noise, before agreeing.
"No, you were not being lazy in your job," she conceded.
"So, is this going into one of your famous reports?" Sara asked with a smile.
"Yes, yes I think it might," Tintin replied thoughtfully. "You'll get to be in one of my stories after all, Sara."
"How glamorous," She joked, "Though that's not the only thing I would like to get into."
Madame Castafiore looked scandalised, but she laughed. Meanwhile, Captain Haddock whacked Tintin on the back, the young reporter having gone bright red and chocked on his drink at the remark.
"Ah, you have an admirer," Castafiore trilled.
"I wouldn't go that far," Tintin choked, "She just likes watching my reaction."
"You never know," Sara smirked, taking a small sip of her drink as the table erupted into laughter at the reporter's expression.