CHAPTER 2
Professor Layton sat at his desk, puzzling over the few details of the incident he had found, his hand occasionally mindlessly, and idly lifting up to touch the brim of his hat, turning on his head, tipping it ever so slightly than righting it again. The feel of the rough cotton against his skin, calmed him down when he seemed about to throw the documents out the window in his saved, slowly lowering anger, stress wreaked his face, he had been up for three straight days now, the university had given him a week off to calm down and hopefully start being able to cope with the world again, they knew how much Claire had meant to him.
How many times had he double, triple, even, checked these documents? read over the newspapers? visited the site? only to be driven to tears each time.
On the day of the explosion he had met a small boy, he had been searching for his parents, crying for them, he had been trying to fight his way through the crowd, Layton had been front of them all, standing still and watching the unmerciful flames dance cruelly, he had been in the way of the boy trying to break through. The young man had never told Layton his name, he had run straight into the man, causing him to awake from his trance in time to catch the boy by the shoulder and pull him close to keep him still, so as to avoid another soul being devoured by the flames.
"I need to go back! My parents are still inside!"
"Pull yourself together boy! There's nothing to be done. Jump back in there, and you'll die too!"
"No! No-oooo!"
The boy gasped between horrendous sobs, clawing at the professors shirt, his tears staining the orange material, trying to get past the only obstacle that stood in his way, only to end up being pulled even closer to the professor in a tight it'll-be-the-death-of-you-if-you-don't-stay-put hug, being wielded unable to move from his spot, the boy stopped his fighting and accepted his position, his parents were gone.
The professor could still remember the boys face as he looked up at the man in the top-hat. Fear had the upper hand in the young mans emotions, tears stained his face, and though his hat covered his eyes, the professor could still feel the confusion and pain held deep within them.
Layton was tired, he had just noticed in-fact, after his small flashback. He wished he knew what he would do with his life now that Claire was gone, would he throw it throw it on the rack? Or would he soon find some comfort in life to sustain his feelings? He didn't know, the only thing that stood out in his mind at the moment was failure, he couldn't find out hat had happened to Claire.
Life was one, great puzzle.
Wasn't it?
'Bob Marvin,' the man thought, chuckling to himself while sitting in a plush, living room wing-chair, 'yeah right.' his chuckling subsided, only to be replaced with a horribly disgusting, absolutely infuriating laugh, one that would annoy just any one, but it would also put a chill down their spine.
His feet were balanced on a small, wooden chair, and in his hands he held a book about the many disguises, wondering who he should pose for next, maybe someone close to his target. That Don Paolo man, he had heard, was the best replacement for any one person in the world, he too had a bone to pick the man named, hmm...
Hershey May-ton? No, no, it was something else, he was sure of it, the man leaned over, taking his feet off the chair, balancing his head on his hand rubbing his chin. Ahh, yes, a virtual light bulb appeared over the mans head and he launched himself back into the plush of the chair, balancing his feet on he chair once again.
Professor Hershel Layton, the man that hadn't a clue.
This thought occurring, the mysterious mans diabolical laughter started again, increasing in volume every second, echoing throughout the house, bouncing off the walls.
No word would get out about his mistakes, this professor simply knew too much, even though he didn't know it himself, this man was another set back to the mysterious mans life, another mistake on paper, and he had no problem erasing mistakes.