"-Why did the Professor ask us to bring him a piece of crystal?
-Oh, let's just deal with Layton. You'll have your answer soon, Vic.
-Who do you think could have stolen the mirror?
-I'm sure we're thinking of the same "person".
-TARGENT, we have to." Concluded Luke.

Who else, after all? Swallow, realizing the deception, kept her word and found the mirror. By now, she and her subordinates have wisely returned to the Nest.

"-Well, let's go get that piece."

So they hid, all the way to the cave. TARGENT's camp was no longer in its original location, which strengthened the trio's hypothesis.

"- I never would have believed the whole story.
-As usual, Layton put it almost dramatically. I'm not surprised.
-He was brilliant, as always. I'm proud to be his apprentice!
-Who would have thought that Agnes was really Cornelia, and Celian... Her son!?"

Descole chuckled at Victoria's misunderstanding. After all, she didn't know Layton as well as he and the kid did.

"-That reminds me...
-Yes, Luke?
-If TARGENT did steal the mirror...
-That means we're going to have to pay a little visit to the Nest." Completed Descole.

Victoria swallowed and clutched her satchel against it.

"-To...the Nest?
-TARGENT headquarters.
-And that will give us a chance to meet the new leader, won't it!?
-Hmm...Indeed, it most likely will."

They made the round trip in an hour, obviously they had forgotten that this place was rather remote from Rosenberg. Once they arrived, they rushed to get a sample of the crystal.

"-Decidedly all its reflections make me uncomfortable.
-Ms. Victoria, aren't you going into the cave?
-No, I don't want to see those crystals."

Luke was understanding. With Descole's help, he took a piece of crystal. It glowed bright and beautiful and colorful. Luke put it in one of his pockets. He'd rather keep it than Descole.

"-And now?
-All we have to do now is go and wait for Layton.
-Let's go then."

"-So she lives in London...
-That's right, Mr Layton.
-Thank you, Raymond, for your help.
-But there's nothing more natural than that, sir."

The Bostonius had been flying through the air at high speed for about 30 minutes. They had to get to London at all costs, as quickly as possible.

"-May I ask how your investigation of this mirror is progressing?"

Layton exposed everything that had happened. Raymond listened to him with great attention, while remaining focused at the controls.

"-Once again it seems you've solved another mystery, and done so brilliantly.
-You flatter me, Raymond."

He readjusted his top hat and began to think.

"-Concerning your request, our destination will allow me to solve this story.
-I take it, then, that...
-Yeah, I think I know where Meredith is."

There was a slight smile on the butler's face.

"-Mr. I don't know how to thank you...
-You don't need to thank me. After all, it is the duty of a gentleman to help others..."

They arrived after an hour. The Bostonius had landed at the airfield.

"-I won't be long, Raymond.
-Take all the time you need, Mr Layton."

The archaeologist took out of his pocket the envelope Descole had given him. Its contents were simply the address of its destination. He had to go through Kensington, Gressenheller and finally across Tower Bridge to one of the most exclusive parts of London.

He had no trouble finding his way around, of course he knew London like the back of his hand. He stopped in front of a big house. It was full of flowers. The professor passed the small black iron gate and knocked on the varnished wooden door.

He heard heels clicking, which were getting closer and closer. He heard the lock unlocking and the door opening slowly, revealing an old woman. Her greying hair in a bun made her look strict. Nevertheless, the features of her face showed a certain sadness mixed with tiredness. She was surprised when she saw Professor Layton.

"-Oh my god...but you are...
-Pardon me for bothering you, ma'am. I'm Hershel Layton.
-Oh yes, I see. All London is talking about you. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

She was startled for a moment.

"Good heavens, I'm forgetting my manners. Come in."

Layton thanked her and he went in. The interior was richly decorated. A veritable little cocoon. She invited him into the parlour, where she served him a cup of tea, only to sit in the armchair facing him.

"-And I didn't introduce myself. I'm Iris Philbys.
-Nice to meet you, ma'am.
-And so... What did you want to talk about?"

He took a slow sip of tea. Earl Grey. An aroma he was particularly fond of.

"-At the risk of being tactless, I'd like to talk to you about your niece."

Iris put a hand in front of her mouth, as if touched. Her niece...

"-What has she done now...? I mean, what did she...
-So you know all about it.
-Yes... I received an anonymous letter announcing her death.
-I see.

The old lady took her cup with a trembling hand and took a sip as well.

"-But something bugs me about this, Mr Layton.
-What's that?
-Why did you write an anonymous letter? I'd know her handwriting anywhere.
-You're saying Meredith wrote the letter herself?
-Yes, of course I can vouch for her handwriting. Would you like to see it?
-I didn't dare to ask."

Iris got up and came back a few seconds later with lavender paper in her hand. She handed it to him and read it carefully.

"Dearest Iris,

To be honest, I'm a little confused to write this message to you. You see, in this story, I'm just the messenger.
I come from someone I'm sure you must know ? I don't know. But enough chatter, I prefer to get to the point:

I received a letter a few weeks ago from my best friend, Meredith. She's the one who brought me to contact you. I was more than troubled by his message. Indeed, she had written to me about a certain organization in which she was "Prisoner"? Yes, that's the term she used.
She had also ordered me urgently to contact you to announce...Her death. Yes, you read these lines correctly. At first, I didn't take her seriously, but I haven't heard from her since. It's like she never existed.
After much research, I am now certain: Meredith is dead.

I carried out his last wishes. She wanted me to send you a letter about her death. All this is so sudden and incomprehensible to me...
I don't know what else to say, I'm sorry. I don't know what relationship you had with her... So we might as well end this message now.

Goodbye... "

Layton had a click. It was exactly the same letter Raymond had received. And this handwriting... He remembered the theory he'd had when he read it... No. It wasn't conceivable.

"-Ma'am, could you...tell me about your niece?
-I'll tell you all about it. Your reputation for thought is over after all."

She took a second sip of tea and cleared her throat.

"-I'm the one who's been taking care of her since she was five years old. I taught her everything so she'd behave like a real lady, at least you understand. This cheeky girl got it into her head to find her father, so she studied archaeology, more precisely art history, in Gressenheller. I couldn't help it, she was too stubborn.
-Pardon me, but finding her father?
-Her father was Edward Philbys, a great composer in London.
-I've heard a bit about him, yes... What happened to him?
-An organisation recruited him.
-Recruited a composer?
-Edward was studying older compositions. I remember once he mentioned a melody to me... A song of sea, I think.
-I understand it better then..."

Layton remembered Raymond telling him that Meredith had dealt with TARGENT before. Surely he must have been referring to that.

"-That's how she met Professor Sycamore, by the way.
-Do you know this archaeologist, madam?
-You know, in those days, word of mouth was very effective. I wanted to get rid of my brother's archaeological stuff. So I thought it might interest him, and I wasn't wrong. Meredith was there that day, too.
-And how did she become her assistant?
-I never really knew. That same day, I had a fight with her about her father and she ran off to her room. The Professor went to see her, he seemed confused. They came back down an hour later. She had found her smile again. She then became his assistant and spent most of her time with this mentor. She was more than happy. Then one day, suddenly I didn't hear from her again. Until this letter.
-I'm sorry to hear that.
-Don't be. It's true that ever since she left there's been a void in my life. My poor little..."

Iris wiped the few tears that ran down her cheeks. She stood up again and took a frame from behind. She handed it to the professor.

"-It's her. See how pretty she is. I never understood why she hadn't found her soul mate yet."

Layton looked closely at the photograph. A pretty woman with brown hair mixed with red. Her large circular glasses reinforced her intellectual side. She stared straight ahead with her sapphire eyes, with a little smile hanging from her face. Layton widened her eyes.

"-But that's...!
-Is there a problem?"

The professor handed the frame to the old woman, smiling.

"-No, I was just thinking out loud, that's all."

He thinks a little more. He'd gotten the extremely important information.

"-What about her mother?
-She died at birth. She never knew her.
-Oh, I see."

He finishes his cup, dreamy. He had everything he needed. He thanked Iris very much. As he was leaving, to reassure and console the poor woman, he said to her in a serious tone:

"-Madame, your niece is very much alive and I know where she is."