My name is Lemony Snicket, and, although the case of the Baudelaires has been solved, I find myself wondering, what happened to the Quagmires, where are they now, and their story.
I ask you, to look away, for this sad and never-ending tale is only the beginning of misery and things are going to much, much worse.
The Quagmire triplets, as you know, were three, lively and clever children with pleasant facial features. But one night from their parent's return from a 'long unexpected holiday' as they said, the children were going to bed when a certain light smashed a frame of a beloved photograph and began to set their world on fire.
Quigley Quagmire, the oldest of the triplets, was sent into a secret tunnel underneath the Quagmire Mansion, to his surprise, by his mother. Duncan and Isadora, the other triplets, somehow managed to jump out of their window. It was later found that a mess of tangled bedsheets and heavy objects used as an anchor were hanging outside one window; a daring escape. But the parents were nowhere to be found. The three triplets, one separated and thinking all were dead, were orphans in a matter of seconds.
The word 'orphan' suggests a small abandoned child who, when they were born, was given away by their parents, or were unwanted. But after reading this, you will think 'orphan' suggests a group of siblings whose parents perished in a mysterious fire.
"Mr Poe, we've already told you. We don't know any – "
"Now, now children, I know you don't know these, um… people, with strange names, but they are distant relatives and it's all written in your parents will, okay?" Mr Poe wheezed, glancing uncertainly at his papers.
"But surely our parents would have told us who they are at one point?" interrupted Duncan. "Or we would have visited them?"
"Or at least know their real names?" Isadore frowned. "What parents give their children into the care of the Man with a Beard but No Hair, and the Woman with Hair but No Beard? It sounds like some weird joke!"
"Now, children, I know you are upset, but these people are your parents choice! And then, after that, you have a series of other adoptive parents in case one mysteriously dies in a fire."
"What?" the two triplets asked in unison.
"You heard me, Quagmires," the banker replied. "It says here: 'If one group of parents should mysteriously die in a fire, move on to the next pair.' See?"
The triplets looked at each other, confused and slightly anxious. "Now, Quagmires, your parents left a possession for you, let me find it…" Mr Poe began shuffling through his drawers, trying to find it. "Ah. Here it is. A… well, it's yours." He handed the object to them. It looked as if half of it had come away or had been broken.
"It's half of a spyglass," decided Isadora, holding it gently.
"Mm…" Mr Poe cleared his throat. "Anyway children, it's time for you to meet your new guardians. My secretary will show you to them… Jacquelyn? Jacquelyn?" he called through. No response. He could hear, however, some kind of struggle, as if someone was being shoved. "Jacquelyn, could please show the way out to these orphans?" Still no response. "Hmm. I'll just call my second secretary," he nodded, the struggling sound still playing through the speaker.
"Is she okay?" Duncan asked, anxious.
"Oh, yes, she normally does this, going off all the time, hiding under desks and whispering…Ahem!" Mr Poe cleared his throat again. The triplets looked at each other again. They seemed to say, "Is he really in charge of our inheritance?".
The door burst open. Everyone turned towards the direction, to see a man, disguised with objects which looked; well, stolen.
"I am here about the Baudelaires," he chanted, deep menace in his voice. "I know their parent's will is – wrong!"
"It is?" gasped Mr Poe.
"Indeed. He is meant to go to – their loving uncle, Count Olaf, who lives… here." He pointed on a map which had odd scribbles on it. Immediately, at the sight of a map, they missed Quigley. He loved maps, as a cartographer.
"My, I must sort this out…" said Mr Poe, clutching his head worryingly.
"But don't you need some kind of court evidence?" suggested Duncan.
"No, children, this is an adult matter. How about you wait outside? My other secretary is coming."
They once again, frowned at each other. This odd, strange man was demanding something illegal – and Mr Poe was too blind to see it. But they could not do anything, walking outside the office.
"Aha!" cried a voice. The triplets were grabbed, and they screamed. "Wait a second…" he looked at them carefully. He tutted. "You're not the Baudelaires!"
The Baudelaires? Wasn't that what that other man in Mr Poe's office was talking about? Something odd was going on, and it was some peculiar mystery. They were ushered away by the man who had grabbed them, who also had hooks for hands.
"Quagmires?" a calmer voice came. They turned. A polite woman, with short brown hair was smiling at them. "I haven't seen you in years!" she sighed. "I suppose you don't recognise me. My name is Kit. Kit Snicket?" she asked.
They nodded, sadly. "Sorry. We don't know you. We need to be off now…" they walked away, confused. The sooner they got out of this place, the sooner their heads would clear.
A small black vintage car was parked outside, labelled: 'Vehicle of Flame Deprivation". Inside, two tall, old figures were sat in the front.
"Excuse me, are you the Man with - "
"Get in." The woman snarled. Clearly these parents were not going to be great ones. But the orphans were alive, at least, and dreamed of their parents once more as the car hastily drove off towards their new home.