A/N: So. Here's chapter 2.
The next day, Artemis reluctantly accompanied his mother on a cheerless trip to the department store. Angeline was concerned that she had nothing appropriate to wear to Norma Cornell's funeral. The only serious black attire in her wardrobe was leftover from Artemis Sr.'s memorial service nearly three years previous, and she flatly refused to wear it again. It may not have rational, but Artemis didn't point this out to her; he wasn't about to argue with his mother's feelings on that subject.
Normally, Artemis was bored to tears clothes shopping, especially when it was for other people, but his father had had business to attend to and he would've felt guilty making his mother go alone. So Butler chauffeured them into Dublin and followed the two around as Artemis helped his mother look for a suitable outfit. Angeline frowned as she browsed through the store's selection, making comments like, "No, this dress is far too short...", "This one is really more of a party dress..." and "Good heavens, look at the neckline on that blouse!"
It was exhausting work. The department store was more crowded than usual, the overcast sky and chilly October wind driving hoards of people to the mall in search of entertainment. Swarms of bodies pressed close and elbows jostled him, putting him in a rather irritable mood and making Butler extremely agitated as he stuck as close to Artemis as he could without stepping on him. It may only have been the uneasiness of being surrounded by so many strangers, but Artemis got the peculiar feeling they were being followed. Artemis studied Butler's face for a moment, but couldn't tell if his bodyguard felt the same way or if he only looked so hyper-vigilant because of the crowd. Butler hated crowds. So many people for a potential assassin to become lost in. Artemis put the feeling down to his paranoia and concentrated on not tripping over anyone.
Finally Angeline accumulated a pile of black clothing and went into a dressing room to try it all on while Artemis and Butler waited outside. Having come to accept hormones as an unfortunate but inevasible part of puberty, Artemis entertained himself by checking out the girls as they passed by. There was cute blonde with a ski-slope nose and green eyes walking by with a rather plain looking girl who looked like she might be the blonde's older sister.
A dark-skinned, exotic looking young woman of about twenty or so strolled by on her cell phone, jabbering away in what Artemis thought was Portuguese. If he looked out the door of the department store into the actual mall, he could see a girl with pale eyebrows and bluish-black hair lurking by the escalator with a group of her friends, taking drags from a cigarette and looking carefully jaded. Artemis thought she'd be pretty once she outgrew that ridiculous rebellious teenager phase.
The crowd thinned and Artemis caught a glimpse of an eye-catching redheaded girl about the same age as himself, sitting outside a dressing room on the other end of the store. She was too far away for him to tell if she was pretty or not, but she felt his eyes on her and turned to look back at him. He saw her lips twitch into a smile as she gave a him little wave and Artemis, embarrassed to have been caught staring, looked away.
Butler caught this little exchange and chuckled. "Why don't you go over and introduce yourself?" he suggested, raising an amused eyebrow. "She looks like she could use some company, hm?"
Artemis looked back at the girl and saw she was still looking at him, giggling. He was about to make a snappy retort to Butler's teasing remark when a tall woman dashed into the store and yanked the redhead girl right out of her seat. The woman, who must have been the girl's mother, spoke something harsh in her ear. The girl glared at her and said something back. Her mother shot an angry glower over at Artemis and Butler, grabbed her daughter by the shoulder, and pulled her out of the store, lips still moving furiously. The girl stole one last, longing look at Artemis over her shoulder as she was dragged away. Artemis was sort of flattered.
"Huh," said Butler, watching them leave. "Looks like you have an admirer." Artemis looked around the store and saw that only a handful of people were staring after the pair, looking either shocked or curious. He wondered what the girl had said to make her mother so angry.
Angeline emerged from the fitting room a minute later. "Alright," she sighed. "Finished. Let's get out of this zoo."
They paid for the clothes and drove home, where they were greeted by two uniformed policemen waiting in the front drive. Angeline stepped out of the Bentley cautiously and one of the officers stepped forward. He introduced himself as Officer Brennan and his partner as Officer O'Connel, and explained that they were there to interrogate the Fowls about the case of their former employee, Norma Cornell. Not that they were suspects, Officer Brennan assured them, but just to gather some background information for their files. By now, Artemis Sr. had returned home and could handle the situation, and give Angeline some moral support. So, Artemis and Butler felt no guilt in removing themselves from the policemen's presence and letting Mr. and Mrs. Fowl deal with it, Artemis because he was tired of dwelling on Norma's death, and Butler because he didn't want the local police looking too closely at his background.
Artemis made a trip to the kitchen to swipe a granola bar and headed toward a back corridor to avoid the policemen and his parents.
Once Artemis had rounded the corner, however, morbid curiosity overcame him and he paused to eavesdrop on the conversation in the room over.
"-Yes, yes it's very strange. We have yet to figure out how the time frame fits with Mr. Cornell's story," Officer Brennan was saying.
"It just isn't possible," said Mr. Fowl. Artemis could picture him shaking his head, his brows pulled together in consternation. "That's at least a two hour drive from here, maybe one and a quarter if you did some serious speeding. Maybe George was mistaken about the time?"
"We don't believe so, Mr. Fowl. He seemed to remember quite distinctly that Mrs. Cornell stepped out to walk the dog in the middle of Dan and Becs, which aired at 8 p.m. and again at 12 a.m. But the victim was found by the harbor at 8:47. Frankly, we're flummoxed. The information just doesn't add up..."
"Jesus..." said Artemis Sr.
Artemis wandered up to his bedroom and put on some classical music to drown out his thoughts. He wasn't really in the mood to work on any science experiments or toy with any of his electrical gadgets. He went to his closet and pulled out an old, oversize T-shirt of his father's and slipped in on over his polo, then wandered over to his desk and pulled out a blank canvas and a set of paintbrushes. Without really having an idea in mind, he painted broad strokes of deep navy blue over the canvas, leaving a patch of white in the bottom right corner for whatever was destined to become his subject. He blended the blue with a hint of undiluted purple, to darken the corners of his imaginary room. Artemis never used black to portray darkness; it was flat and made the painting lose its depth.
Painting night scenes had always had a hypnotic effect on Artemis. The rhythmic strokes of the brush, the sharp smell of the oil paints, the smooth texture and rich colors all combined, allowing him to become lost in a self-created world of shadows and subtle nuance. It was intoxicating. He gave his room a large window and added faint moonbeams, imagining them falling on the upturned face of a young girl. Artemis reached for the colors he always used to create flesh tone, and paused, considering. Instead, he grabbed the white and helio blue. His subject would be inhuman, he decided, mixing a touch of the helio to a glob of white to produce an extremely pale, icy blue, and adding it to his blank corner. He thought of the girl from the mall earlier. Her face escaped his memory, but he thought of her vivid coppery red hair, and added a splash of it to his painting. It gave an unexpected touch of warmth and spontaneity to his otherwise chilling silvery-skinned figure. He painted her eyes closed, fringed with auburn lashes, and a small smile on her pale pink lips.
Artemis put down his brush and took a step back from his painting. The girl looked looked a bit older than he'd intended, and the small smile was a little bit smug, revealing just a hint of teeth. She stretched languidly over the windowsill, soaking up the moonlight like a cat might bask in the sun. He dressed her in a flowing black dress as ephemeral as she was, chewing the inside of his lip in concentration as he tried to capture the exact texture of the cloth he envisioned.
Only several hours after he'd started, the painting was finished. He was pleased with it. It wasn't an exceptionally original piece, but it was beautiful, and for Artemis, that was the important thing. He hadn't created the figure to impress any collectors or critics, but only to indulge his own whimsical impulse. And the smirking moonlit girl had fulfilled her purpose.
A/N: Opinions, k plz thnx? I need motivation to keep going!