Chapter Fifteen
Meg: (in Dr. Weird voice) Gentlemen, behold!
Emma: And Ladies.
Meg: (still in Dr. Weird voice) Shut up, Steve! (clears voice) Gentlemen, behold! The fifteenth chapter!
RAEB: Yep, someone's definitely been watching too much Aqua Teen Hunger Force.
Leigh: Blame it on weekly movie nights, whoever brought the DVD set, and the fact that all the guys had to watch all the little Dr. Weird excerpts at the beginning of each episode.
Meg: (still in Dr. Weird voice) Quiet! Now someone post the next chapter!
Lizz: (sigh) I guess I'll do it… again.
Ratigan had one of the better-kept cells prepared for Rose to stay in while she remained in the sewers. Rose did not mind. She knew there were nicer rooms in the lair, but they were too big and too frivolous for her tastes. Besides, the cell was never locked.
She went about her work as usual, cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry and her other chores. She had no contact with the outside world, but that was all right by her standards. She did not have a world beyond the lair or The Rat Trap anymore. The only people she ever talked to above the surface were Millie, Miss Kitty, and Scarlet, since Giovanni hated her with a passion and the other barmaids did not even bother with her. Nothing new to expect from there.
It was all the same, but something about her situation had definitely changed. She began to notice that the thugs were coming to her for favors… to mend a torn jacket, darn a sock; and they talked to her as she did it about their drunken escapades, their pettier crimes, or arguments they had had with their wives or girlfriends. Or they would greet her when they came into the throne room, a change from just ignoring her. She was beginning to feel like she was part of a very big family; perhaps not a member, but a needed part of it, like a close family servant.
The Professor no longer ignored her either. He had his moments, especially when he was deep in thought about a crime or a problem that required an intelligent solution or on the verge of an idea. But each morning when she served him his breakfast he made her sit down and listen to the latest article on the Big Ben Caper, elaborating on every detail and the poor progress the police were making on the case. Rose was amused by his child-like excitement, laughing and carrying on about the embarrassment the authorities were suffering because of his success.
"It goes to show you, Rose," Ratigan said one morning, after laying down the newspaper, "that some genius cannot be matched."
Rose hated to encourage egotism, but she nodded in agreement anyway.
"It was a very good plan, sir."
"It wasn't the plan, my dear. It was the getaway, the lack of evidence or clues."
Rose traced the pattern in the tablecloth with her finger. "Sir? Can I ask a question?"
"Certainly."
"Why did you decide to get into crime in the first place?"
Ratigan seemed surprised. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just curious."
"Let me ask you a question. Why do you think I got into crime?"
Rose gave him a confused look. "I don't know."
"Take a guess."
Rose frowned. She hated when others reversed a question on her.
"Because you wanted to get rich?"
"No. It was a benefit, not a reason. Try again."
"I don't know, sir."
"Try."
"I don't know!" Rose said a little sharply.
Ratigan chuckled. "I beg your pardon," he said a little teasingly.
She felt her face grow red with anger. She got up to clear away the breakfast dishes.
"Answer me this, Rose. Why did you come back?" Ratigan asked.
Rose looked at him. "What?"
"Why did you come back here with Gerald after Mouseland Yard let you go?"
Rose paused. "Because I made a promise to you, sir. That I wouldn't leave."
"Do you want to leave?"
She tried to read his expression, but once again failed to detect what he meant by his words.
"Tell me the truth. I won't be offended," he added, seeing her hesitation.
"No, sir. I don't want to leave… not unless you make me."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said with a friendly smile.
Rose gave him a small smile. She continued to clear the dishes.
"Sit down. I'm not done talking to you."
She quickly put everything down and sat back down.
"I have business with a man by the name of Frederick Moss that I need to close in a week. He thinks I am a wealthy man by the name of David Snyder, and has invited me to his vacation home in Whitby. I need you to come with me."
"Why, sir?"
"Because he thinks I am married. You would play the part of my wife."
Rose was startled. "Your wife?"
"For a day or two."
"Why me? I'm sure there's someone else you know who's better qualified-"
"Yes, there are about a dozen women I know who are better qualified," he stated. "Unfortunately, most of them are either already married and wouldn't dream of leaving their husbands for this little farce or already move in the same social circles as Moss and his wife do. Besides, I have to break you in somehow."
Rose was silent. She had no idea what to think. She felt it would be wrong to even consider it. But then again… why had Ratigan picked her? Did he think she had the skill and ability to do it?
"If you want me to, I will try to help you out, sir."
"I want a straight yes or no answer, none of this 'I'll try' garbage," Ratigan snapped.
"Oh. Yes, sir. I'll help you," Rose said quickly.
"Marvelous. Now here's what you should know…"
The next few days were a blur as they prepared for Ratigan's newest plan. He had explained the details of his purposes for conducting business with this man, but Rose still did not quite understand it, or how Ratigan was going to get away with it. But she did educate herself in what she was supposed to know as David Snyder's wife, in his business, his personality, and his live. He was born in Cornwall in 1861, owned mines in South Africa, had married Jane Rochester four years ago...
Rose thought the name was peculiar. Jane Rochester. Jane was the name of the main character in Jane Eyre, and Rochester was the last name of the man who Jane was in love with. It was a rather odd, and in Rose's opinion, obviously fake name, and she wondered why he had picked such a name.
"Sir," she said one day, "you've told Mr. Moss that my maiden name was Jane Rochester?"
Ratigan gave her a peculiar look. "Yes. I already told you that."
"Well… did you know that it's the name of Jane Eyre at the end of that book? After she marries Mr. Rochester?"
"Yes. I borrowed the name from that novel."
"Oh." She cast down her eyes, feeling even more confused.
Ratigan pulled out a cigarette. "What's the problem, Rose?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Rose, I am not going to play guessing games with you. Tell me what the problem is."
"Well… isn't Jane Rochester an obviously false alias? Won't they guess that you took it from that book?"
A small smile was tugging at the corners of Ratigan's mouth. "No."
"Oh." Rose frowned, unsatisfied with that answer.
"Rose, what makes you so sure that everyone has read that novel and will make the connection between it and your alias?" Ratigan asked in response to her frown.
"I don't know."
"Then don't worry about it. I know what I'm doing."
The next day she was introduced to two childhood friends of Ratigan's who were visiting in London, one Rachel Dunlap and her sister, Amy Germaine. Rachel was a friendly, melodramatic woman in her early thirties with dark hair and a tendency to fall into a mindset that the world revolved around her. Rose took an immediate liking to her. Amy was in her twenties, quiet, unattractive, and did not speak unless spoken to. Rose found her dull.
Rose found out that they had been recruited in teaching her how to behave in society. Rachel usually posed questions and made her answer them as if she were really Jane Rochester Snyder, trying to trap her into making a mistake. Even though Rose felt like she was always making a mistake and that she would not be able to handle this, she actually did better than she gave herself credit for… until it came to talk about David Snyder.
"Darling, you've got to elaborate more on James' character," Rachel said to her after one of the conversations. "It looks like you don't even know your husband at all."
"I try, but…" Rose grimaced. "I really don't know Professor Ratigan at all. I mean, it's easy to make Jane Snyder come to life, because I know who I am, and can make things up about myself better than about someone else. That's why it's so hard to know who David Snyder is, because I don't know the Professor and I really can't get a clear idea what sort of man he would be portraying."
"I think you're trying too hard," Rachel said, laughing. "James has told you about his character, right?"
"Well, technical things, like what he does, and maybe one of two general interests."
"That's really all you need to focus on. These women aren't going to care what his philosophy on life is, or whether he prefers going on long walks to playing the harp."
"Oh." Rose frowned. She had sort of hoped that Rachel would tell her more about Ratigan's life and what kind of a man he was outside his images as a mathematical genius and a criminal mastermind.
Later, as Rose was packing her bags of newly-bought clothes for the trip to Derbyshire, Amy came into her cell.
"He likes myths," she said in response to Rose's greeting.
Rose gave her an odd look. "I beg your pardon?"
"James. When we were younger… I was seven, Rachel was eleven…" Amy sighed, lost in her reminiscing. "At night, he'd sneak over to our house, and we'd climb out the window and go up to the top of this one hill, and he'd tell us stories… myths. He loved Greek myths. I remember one, of how Hades kidnaps Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of grain and harvest. Demeter is so distraught that she stops working, and the earth and all the plants dry up. Zeus sends Hermes to find Persephone. Meanwhile, Persephone has eaten six pomegranate seeds. Eating anything in the underworld means that you have to stay down there forever. But Demeter is so upset when she hears this, she goes to Zeus, and she and Hades work out a compromise; Persephone must be queen of the underworld for six months, because of the six seeds she ate. In those six months, the world dies, creating fall and winter. But for six months she is allowed to come back to the surface, where she spends time with her mother. Everything grows, and that is spring and summer."
"What a nice story," Rose said, trying her hardest to imagine the Professor as a storyteller.
"James can tell them so much better than I," Amy said.
"Miss Germaine? Why are you telling me this?"
"He has such a misconception of life," Amy said dreamily. "He thinks everyone is out to get him. He's only looking for a reason to not trust anyone."
This answer only confused Rose even more.
Meg: Ok, the first meeting of the unofficial Gerard Butler Club is now in order.
RAEB: Gerard Butler Club? I thought this was the second meeting of the Lizz Mafia.
Meg: I changed my mind.
Emma: I don't want to be a member of the Gerard Butler Club!
Leigh: But he was so hot in "The Phantom of the Opera!"
Meg: Yeah! Come on, Emma! I need help getting a prom date!
Emma: And you think Gerard would go with you?
Meg: Why not?
Leigh: Mrs. Connors would kill you for that.
Lizz: Yeah, isn't she obsessed with him or something?
Meg: But she's twenty years older than him!
RAEB: You're twenty years younger than him!
Meg: So was Emmy Rossum!
Emma: But she was never dating Gerard Butler; they were working on a movie together!
Meg: Who says I can't get a date with Gerard Butler?
(JWJ pops up out of nowhere)
JWJ: I do.
Meg: Hey! No guys allowed!
JWJ: Oh, grow up. First of all, you're delusional. Gerard Butler doesn't want to date you. Second of all, no one cares about your prom situation!
Meg: I DO! And besides, I'm the only one here who doesn't have a date! I don't want this to turn into that whole Valentine's Day fiasco that happened last year, with me being the only one who had no date!
Lizz: Hey, I just remembered that that was Ratigan's fault.
Meg: EVERYTHING IS RATIGAN'S FAULT! I say let's get a SWAT team in here to kill Ratigan.
RAEB: Why?
Meg: 'Cause he might kill Gerard.
JWJ: The 'potential' date who doesn't even know you exist?
Meg: YES!
JWJ: Yeah. Sure. If you somehow manage to get this actor to go to prom with you, then I will pay you one hundred dollars.
Meg: DEAL!