Chapter Three
Leigh: Igor is the name of Dr. Frankenstein's famous assistant in certain movie versions of that classic horror story. The book itself, however, never once mentions an Igor. Frankenstein never even had a real laboratory, or used a lot of electricity, as all the movies say. So how does Hollywood get so far away from the original story?
The golden hues of dawn streamed across the sky, its beauty was lost to Basil and Dawson as Toby flew down the streets of London, searching for a lead. Toby had not picked up even the slightest clue of the kidnappers' tracks.
Basil's face appeared hardened, set in stone, toward some harder purpose. He urged the tired dog on. Dawson held on for dear life. He was sore and tired, but all he could think about was Isabelle. Was she safe? What was Ratigan going to do to them?
Unbeknownst to them, Ratigan was as furious as they were worried. "When I find that Transylvanian I will hang him up from the ceiling and skin him alive!" the evil professor shouted. "I want Igor dead by tonight!"
We heard that order all the way to our cell. Li Yan shivered.
"He's a bad man," she said softly.
Isabelle, Mrs. Judson, and Olivia had piled on top of each other on the only cot in the room, and were fast asleep. I sighed.
"Yes, I know he's a bad man. And I'm afraid he will never change."
"What is he going to do with us, Meesus Meg?"
"I don't know," I said quietly.
The small girl patted my hand. "It will be okay."
I gave her a grateful smile at her attempt to be comforting. I gave the girl a hug.
"If Igor is not found by tonight, I will personally hang all of you!" the professor's voice screeched.
"That monster," I muttered.
A slamming of a door, followed by breaking glass, made us jump. I held Li Yan closer, hoping to forget the situation by the real presence of her body against mine. Would it be breathing in a few hours? Would any of us still be alive?
Around midmorning Rahle strolled down to Baker Street. He was on a mission: to retrieve an entire case of cigars that he had left there the night before, before the mean landlady threw them out.
He met one Mouseland Yard official standing at the door. Always wary of the official police force, he first decided to pass by and catch a glimpse of what was going on. The official glared at the master of disguises as he passed. Rahle felt guilty already for some crime unknown to even himself.
Finally, after much deliberation, the mouse went by the back door. He knocked on it loudly. "Bonjour! Madame Judson, c'est moi. It is I, Rahle. Open up!"
The door was flung open. Rahle came face-to-face with the same official. "Oh... Bonjour monsieur."
"What do you want?"
Rahle knew he'd look extremely guilty if he left now. "I... am looking for Monsieur Basil. I am a close friend, of course."
"Really?" The policeman looked extremely irritated. "Don't you know that this is a crime scene?"
"Crime scene? What crime has been committed here?"
"I will talk to him," Liang said, appearing at the door. "Rahle is a good friend of Basil's."
The official took one last look at Rahle. "All right, but he cannot come inside." To Rahle he said, "I'm watching you, bucko. One false move, and I'll have you arrested quicker than you can say, 'Long live the Queen.'" With that he left.
"What is going on here, that rude people harass me and prevent me from coming to a business associate's home?" Rahle demanded, clearly insulted.
"Forget the ego for a moment, Rahle. It's the women. Last night they were kidnapped and taken by Ratigan and his lackeys."
"All of them? Even Madame Judson?"
"Yes Rahle, even my granddaughter and Mrs. Judson."
"Ratigan did this?"
"Yes Rahle."
"Pourquoi moi, pourquoi moi? Quel tour cruel au jeu sur un homme honnête!" Rahle said, shaking one fist at the heavens.
"What?" Liang asked.
Rahle realized he had been talking to himself. "Basil is not in?"
"No, he's out with Dawson, looking for them."
"Good, I will come back later!" Rahle announced. "And get another police person for the door. That one is rude."
Liang shook his head as he left. That mouse was eccentric indeed.
The door to the cell opened. Rafael and another thug entered. "Come on, Miss Sarentis," Rafael said, gripping my arm.
Everyone besides Li Yan was still sleeping. The Chinese girl jumped up from where she had been sitting on the floor. "Leave Meesus Meg alone!"
"It's all right," I said softly, my body trembling as Rafael gripped my arm. "I'll be fine."
Rafael roughly shoved me out the door, and then repeatedly pushed me ahead of him all the way to the throne room.
I breathed a sigh of relief upon entering; Ratigan was nowhere in sight. I looked about the room. There were piles of jewels and gold on the floor, and a harp sat in a corner surrounded by mirrors. On a shelf nearby was an assortment of objects. I peered at one grimy little object that closely resembled a pincushion. On closer inspection I saw that it was a doll, full of pins. I almost cried out when I realized that the doll was supposed to resemble Basil. Then I noticed the bell. It was the prize of Ratigan's defeat atop Big Ben, what should have been his complete downfall. Ratigan must have taken it from the mantle in Basil's flat.
On the wall next to the doll was a photograph: Basil, Dawson, and Olivia, Dawson in some sort of pirate getup, the former grinning broadly, the latter two looking as if they were in a state of shock.
Just then Ratigan came into the room, apparently distracted. But at the sight of us he quickly snapped back to attention. "Good. Now leave."
The two thugs who had been holding me slipped out the door.
Ratigan took my hand and led me to the throne. "There," he said, seating me down on a small ottoman next to the throne. "Now that we're alone, perhaps I can get you to speak sensibly." He sat down.
I stared at the floor. So often I had some sort of comeback, but sometimes I felt that he could top anything I say. Curiously, I sometimes felt that way around Basil as well.
"What do you want me to say, Professor?" I began uncertainly. "That I will join you?"
"Meg, I thought you were smarter than this. You are either going to join me out of your own free will or by force."
"Taking the easy way out," I sighed. "Forcing me? That doesn't sound like a criminal mastermind to me. Isn't it more of a challenge if you get me to join you of my own free will? Think of something more creative for once!"
He looked darkly at me. I stopped breathing. A moment passed; then he went back to his wicked grin. "I'm losing my patience with you, Miss Sarentis. I will force you any way I choose."
With Li Yan, Olivia, Isabelle, and Mrs. Judson, I thought. He seemed to read my thoughts. "Yes. Their lives are in your hands."
"Typical," I snapped, folding my arms. "Just leave me alone for once!"
He laughed, and then stood up. "Let me tell you a little story, Meg. Once upon a time, there was a man, who, while waiting to right a great wrong done to him, came across Pandora and her box of evil. And it was to be an evil to him, because it unlocked a world of treasures. Now he knew that this world existed, but he had abhorred it with all of his being. But the box showed him, gradually, this world of complete bliss, complete happiness. It showed him paradise. But he cannot go into that world, no matter how hard he tries."
"Why not?" I said more to myself than to him.
"Because Pandora will not allow it," he said in a dangerous voice. "She takes it away from him each time. But he will try to get as close to that paradise as he can," he continued. "He will have it! And that is why I cannot leave you alone, my dear. Pandora must pay for the evil she let loose upon one poor man's very existence."
Evil? What evil? Just listen... he needs you. He needs you.
"This is ridiculous..." I began.
"What is? This life?" Here he motioned to the throne room around him. "Do you think you're better than all of this?"
"I think you're better than all of this, Professor. You could accomplish great things with that brain of yours."
"Don't you see, Megana? It's the challenge of crime, of getting away from the law, which my brain craves. I could have become the most respected mathematician in the world, and it would still not satisfy my cravings. I need something to stimulate my brain."
"Can't you do something else? Like helping people, instead of hurting them?"
"I brought you here because you talk sense, not for a career change."
"Sense about what? Joining with someone who has destroyed my life and everyone else's around me?"
"What kind of future do you have with Basil? Basil, who leaves you out of things, who is forced to keep you by his side, who would rather have you out of the way!"
"That's not true! He teaches me how to play the violin, he's been nicer, he's gotten better..."
"Admit it Meg, His job would be so much easier without having to contend with you all the time."
"What is this?" I said defensively. "Why do you care whether Basil's job is easier or not? And why do you care so much about me? I can never join up with someone so heartless and cruel, who would kill me in the blink of an eye without feeling even a fraction of remorse. Get someone else, because I will never, ever join you! My place is beside Basil and all that he stands for."
Ratigan gripped the arms of his throne, as if restraining himself from reacting violently. I blushed. Why had I said that particular statement? It sounded as if I cared for Basil much more deeply than our work relationship allowed.
A picture came to mind: A winter's evening, sitting by the fire watching as the snowflakes danced outside the window, Basil playing his violin. There had been many evenings like that last winter. I placed Dawson into the picture, and it seemed natural and right. Then I took Basil out of the picture. Instantly I knew what was wrong. I could easily feel comfortable without Dawson, but without Basil the picture seemed empty, incomplete. Why?
I wondered if I had grown accustomed to the idea of not having Dawson around before long from expecting Isabelle and Dawson to get married. That would explain the problem with my fireside image. Although in my heart I knew that that answer, while a practical one, was not the right one.
I shot a sideways look at Ratigan. Was that mad gleam in his eyes jealousy? I involuntarily shivered, suddenly more afraid for Basil than for me and my imprisoned companions. If Ratigan suspected that I felt something for Basil and managed to get his hands on the detective, I knew that Basil's end would be drawn out in much more torture and pain than Ratigan already had planned.
The rat leaned forward, a malicious smile spreading across his features. He stood up and took my arm in a vice-like grip. He pulled me up from the ottoman and wordlessly 'escorted' me back to the cell, maintaining the possessive grip on my arm. Inside the cell, he kissed my hand with contempt in front of the others and then left, slamming the door behind him.
Olivia made a face, as if something dirty had been smeared across a favorite dress. Mrs. Judson shook her head, and Isabelle put her face in her hands. Li Yan stared at the door, as if she had just witnessed something obscene.
I tried in vain to open the door. "We must get out of here!" I cried. "He'll kill us all and the people we love!"
"Igor! Wake up now, you lazy brute!"
The Transylvanian tumbled out of the bed. "It wasn't me, I swear!" he shouted as he fell at Rahle's feet. He looked up. "Oh... what do you want?"
Rahle pulled the mouse up by the collar and shoved him against the wall. "There are five femmes missing from Baker Street last night! Tell me why!"
"What? Femmes?"
"Women!" Rahle pounded Igor's head against the wall. "Tell me!"
"You're going to kill me!"
"If that is what it takes! You are involved with Ratigan, you know!"
"No, on my honour!" Igor cried. Rahle threw the poor mouse's body against the wall with all the force he could muster. "All right! I will talk!"
Rahle pressed Igor against the wall. "Where are they?"
The mouse cringed. "They were taken from Baker Street, right? Two women?"
"TWO? There were five taken!"
"Five? But the Boss said that..." Igor stopped, looking panicked at having given himself away. "No!" he cried as Rahle raised his arm to strike again. "I was not working for Ratigan. Hear me out!"
"You have two minutes," Rahle growled.
"You know that we were good comrades when I was living in Paris. Both of us bachelors, and I had used your services for disguises. Then I got a letter, and left."
"Yes, I know all that. Tell me what I don't know!"
"That letter was from my niece, my sister's daughter. I never even knew I had a niece! But Gwen and her husband had died, and the girl was alone in the world. She implored me to help her, as she was quite desolate. I went to Buda-Pesth and to Juliana. There were debts to be paid, and I did not know what to do. I had nothing but poor Juliana! Several foul men, who would not leave her alone, plagued her constantly. If I had given up on her then, she would have been forsaken."
Igor was speaking in riddles to Rahle, but the French mouse decided not to interrupt the narrative.
"Then I met a gentleman who offered my niece and I a better life. It was that fiend Professor Ratigan! I fell into crime. Juliana did not know, but she suspected, I believe. We came to London, settled down, and were comfortable enough. I was even feeling confident enough to break off my relations with Ratigan and his organization. But curse fate! He had other ideas, and when I tried to break it off, not four days ago, he took Juliana, that quiet girl, and offered her life as ransom."
"For what?" Rahle asked.
"He wanted me to lead you and Basil of Baker Street into a trap. He only decided last night that it would be for Basil's landlady and secretary."
"Idiot, he took another young woman and two little girls."
"I did not know that."
"Why did you escape, if this 'Juliana,' if she even exists, is still there?"
Igor choked back a sob. "She had taken sick with typhoid not two weeks ago. It was last night that I found out that she had finally succumbed to the disease. She is dead."
"I don't believe you!"
"On my honour, I solemnly swear that I do not lie."
Rahle paused, thinking hard. "We are going to Baker Street. You must lead Monsieur Basil to Ratigan, for then we have the element of surprise!"
Meg: Will try my hardest to get the next chapter up ASAP. It's hard when I have to work at three jobs, especially when those jobs involve me sitting at 6-8 hours at a time doing nothing, because no one goes to those pools at which I lifeguard. Yesterday I spent six hours reading Dracula.
Leigh: I vant to bite your little neck.
Meg: Yeah, sure. I'd say you're the one spending long hours by a pool out in the sun all day.
Leigh: I vant to suck your blood!
Meg: I'm leaving. NOW!