Knights and Knaves

A Professor Layton fan fiction by Lady Norbert

A/N: And here we go! Have you solved the mystery yet?


Flora ate a very small, solitary dinner and went to her room early. She locked the door, which she was not normally in the habit of doing but she wanted to make it very clear that she didn't wish to speak to the Professor whenever he decided to come home.

She sat on her bed and looked at the array of pictures on the wall. Lady Dahlia and Claudia...Matthew...Bruno, tinkering with Adrea...her parents' wedding picture...and the one that she had taken from the downstairs parlor of Reinhold Manor, herself as a baby, curled in the arms of her beaming mother.

Sometimes I wonder why I left, she thought. They loved me. Wanted me. Protected and consoled me. It had hardly been the perfect living arrangement for a girl growing into womanhood, but she was never left behind or forgotten.

The minutes ticked by miserably, the clock seeming unusually loud. She wrote in her diary and rearranged the contents of the little jewel-box she had inherited from her mother. Around eight she changed into her nightdress and put away her pink ribbon and brushed her hair and climbed into bed with Pride and Prejudice.

She would have liked to see anybody try to leave Elizabeth Bennet behind.

She didn't know exactly when she fell asleep, nor when the Professor came home. Sometime in the night she awoke to find the book sprawled across her stomach, and she had drowsily turned off the gas lamp and tucked the book into her bedside table drawer.

In the morning she took her sweet time dressing and putting up her hair. Let him get his own breakfast. Perhaps it was immature and ridiculous, but she felt the need to punish him a little. She remained in the room, making her bed and tidying her already tidy closet, until half past nine. By that point she could no longer ignore her rumbling stomach, so she set off in search of a morning meal. Reaching the dining room entrance, she peered warily around the doorframe.

The Professor's chair at the table was vacant, but for the newspaper he had partially read. She could tell by the way it was lying that he hadn't finished it; he was already gone. Relaxing, she entered the room proper, and stopped short almost at once.

In the center of the table was a crystal bowl filled with water, and almost overstuffed with lilies of every imaginable color - some she didn't even know existed in the lily family. A small card, folded in half and bearing her own name on the front, sat on the table beside the bowl.

My dear Flora,

I offer a thousand apologies for failing to come back to the office. I fear that I went too long without taking nourishment yesterday; this, the urgency of Inspector Chelmey's request, and the drain that the entire case is placing upon my faculties all conspired to make me more than a little absent-minded. Even so, it was unbecoming of a gentleman that I should leave a lady waiting for so long, and you were within your rights to be cross with me last night. I hope you will accept this token of my sincere regret for causing you any distress. I promise that I shall try to be home at a reasonable hour this evening, to enjoy the favor of your company if you will bestow it.

Your Professor

She wanted to stay angry, but she just couldn't do it. She wasn't ready to forgive him just yet, but the apology helped.


"Miss Flora, are you all right?"

Still in need of something to soothe her injured feelings, she had made her way to Nick and Nack's, where Mr. Nick instantly read her face. "What's happened, dear?"

"Oh, it...well..."

And before she knew it, she had taken a seat opposite Mr. Nick and poured out her heart. Her mother's death; her father's; these he already knew. But now she told him about St. Mystere, about how the Professor had solved the riddles and earned the right to be her guardian, about how he had taken Luke everywhere and constantly tried to leave her at home, about how he just didn't seem to understand.

"Last night, I wanted to tell him about you, and that lovely puzzle you made me, and maybe see if he wanted to come and meet you," she concluded. "And he said he'd come and get me after his last class and we'd go and have something to eat, and instead Inspector Chelmey called him down to Scotland Yard for more work. And he forgot me, Mr. Nick! He forgot that I was there! He was so hungry and tired that he forgot all about me. He said he's very sorry and he did give me beautiful flowers this morning, so I'm not as angry as I was, but oh...it hurt so much."

Mr. Nick listened to all of her troubles with a sympathetic air. He said nothing while she spoke, only occasionally patted her hand consolingly. "There, there," he soothed. "My poor sweet girl. How could he do such a thing?"

"I don't know. I mean...he is working very hard...and he hadn't eaten all day..."

"But really, is that any excuse? You deserve better, dear. So lovely and kind, and devoted to him. He just doesn't appreciate you." For the first time in their acquaintance, Mr. Nick actually seemed a bit angry himself, and Flora drew back slightly in astonishment. "And more than that. You're a member of the nobility, the daughter of a baron, a true blue blood. You're as proper a lady as ever I've known, gentle and sweet and such pretty manners. You deserve a family and love and to be thought of and cared for."

"He...he doesn't even have a picture of me in his office," Flora confessed. "There's a picture of Luke, but not me."

"Hmm." Mr. Nick shook his head, making a visible effort to master his emotions. "I can't say I agree with how he's managing things here, my dear, but forgive me - I spoke out of turn. It hurts me to see such a dear sweet girl treated so thoughtlessly by her own guardian."

"It's all right. And the Professor is good to me in his own way, really he is." Am I convincing him or myself? she wondered.

"Sure of that, are you?" drawled another voice. Flora started, looking at the door to the back room; Mr. Nack was leaning against the doorframe.

"Nack, don't frighten the poor girl, for heaven's sake," Mr. Nick chided him.

"Very sorry, of course. Couldn't help overhearing the whole thing, though. But never mind it. You're always welcome here, Miss Reinhold; Nick hardly talks of anything else."

Something felt off about the whole situation, and she was struggling to figure out what it was. She brushed it off for the time being, resolving to enjoy her time at the toy shop. Mr. Nack disappeared back into the stock room, while Mr. Nick devoted himself to her amusement, showing her the machinery on which he had made the beautiful puzzle in her honor and inviting her to help him change the window display.

Toward tea time, Flora felt she ought to get home. "It's growing late," she said, steadily resisting Mr. Nick's entreaties that she stay and have tea with them. "I really should give the Professor the chance to apologize in person instead of by note. But I'll come again soon, I promise." He seemed to resign himself to being content with this, and she set off through the city.

As she walked, she started mentally reviewing the conversation in her mind. She had been careful, she thought. She didn't mention the robot inhabitants of St. Mystere or the hidden cache of gold. She had given as little detail about life in the village as she could, and since it appeared on very few maps, there wasn't much danger of Mr. Nack - whom she distrusted as much as ever - possibly finding it.

Mr. Nick had been angry about her being left behind so much. She dwelled on that for a moment, and she realized the discrepancy that had triggered her unease.

You're a member of the nobility, the daughter of a baron, a true blue blood.

She had never mentioned that.


To her immense surprise and admitted pleasure, the Professor had been true to his word, and was waiting for her when she arrived at the brownstone. "Have you had a good afternoon, dear?"

"Yes, thank you." Flora had already decided that she wasn't going to tell the Professor anything about Nick and Nack's. It was a puzzle of her own, and she would solve it. Then maybe he'd see that she was just as good as Luke.

"I really am very sorry about last night, my girl. It was a grievous oversight."

"I forgive you."

He smiled. "I have already told Inspector Chelmey not to disturb me this evening; I have no intention of going anywhere, at least not alone. Suppose we have tea?"

Over tea, she asked him about the case. "You haven't said much about it lately. Are there more clues?"

"Yes," he sighed, "and we're no closer to a resolution. The clues just don't make sense, they truly don't."

"Tell me what they are?"

He sipped his tea. "Letters - R, F, D, O, H, E, I, L, and now N. A wooden box containing an origami bird made from a sheet of music. The number fifteen. The Peerage of Great Britain. And a rose."

"A rose?"

"Yes, rather an extraordinary thing really. A most beautifully crafted wooden jigsaw puzzle. Once assembled, it formed a rose."

Flora almost dropped her teacup. "Really," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "That does sound, um, exquisite."

It can't be. Can it?

"Oh, it was." The Professor rubbed his eyes. "Sweeting, I hate to be rude, but I'm so very weary...I don't think I've had a proper night's sleep in a week."

"Why don't you lie on the settee, Professor," she suggested, "and I'll play the piano for you? Something soft and sweet to help you rest."

"You're a dear girl," he murmured, draining his teacup. "Perhaps that's just what I need."


Once he was asleep, Flora retrieved some paper and a pen, and settled herself at the dining table to think. She started making a list of the known clues, frowning as she did.

15 - Rose - Origami bird - Peerage

N

She tilted her head, examining the letters. She could pick out words comprised of the letters, but none of them seemed to match any of the other clues. Still, she wrote them down. Rod...hoe...lie...life...field...rind...rein...dole...old...hold...

Wait.

Rein...hold...

Reinhold.

F. Reinhold.

She stared at the paper in horror. The letters spelled her own last name, plus first initial. How had the Professor missed this? Well, then again, it hadn't dawned on him to wonder what Future Flora might be doing, during the Clive matter, so it wasn't hard to imagine that she didn't occur to him during this investigation either.

She looked back at the other clues. Fifteen - she was fifteen years old. The origami bird didn't make sense by itself, but it was made from a piece of sheet music - Mr. Nick knew she played the piano. The Peerage of Great Britain - he had known her father was a baron, even though she hadn't told him! And the rose puzzle hardly even needed to be considered; it had been designed for her! It all fit!

What did that early message say? We'll take something you won't even miss, or something similar. The word was underlined...it had a double meaning. He always called her Miss Flora, and knowing what he knew of her turbulent relationship with the Professor, he probably really did believe that she wouldn't be missed if she were taken.

But why the clues? she wondered. What could he gain by that? That was the only thing that made no sense. Why warn the police, or Professor Layton, that he intended to kidnap Flora? If indeed that was his design; she had no definite proof that this was the plan.

Tomorrow she would go back to the toy shop. And she would get to the bottom of the whole affair.