Chapter 2: The Gressenheller Detective Club
A young girl, a rather plump boy and a boy in a black tophat sat around a table. The girl wore a plaid dress andhad straight cut hair, which she kept under a deerstalker cap. On her nose were a set of thick rimmed glasses. She sat at the head of the table, and as her demeanour suggested, she was the head of the group.
The plump boy wore a black vest with a grey bow tie, a black bowler hat and had particularly accented eyebrows. The odd shape of his nose seemed to cast a shadow that almost looked like a mustache from a distance. In addition to this, the way he swept his hair into his hat made him look almost bald.
The final boy, in the top hat, wore a bored expression on his face. His collar was turned upwards and he wore a messy cross between a cravat and a necktie. His hair, too, was messy and stuck out from under his hat.
All three of these students stood up and greeted Luke as he entered the room, before gesturing to a seat opposite the girl.
"Mr. Triton," the girl began, in a voice completely devoid of expression, "I see that you have responded to my note. A pleasure."
Luke pulled out the seat that was offered to him, and sat down. Carefully, he tugged on the corner of his hat. The emptiness of the girls voice made him slightly uncomfortable. She almost felt like a robot.
"So, you're the ones who left the note on my desk?"
The girl smiled and did a curtsey.
"Elementary. That is correct, Mr. Triton. Though, that was a simple mystery."
She smiled but she still showed no emotion. Luke glanced at the door and then glanced back.
"And, uh... Who are all of you exactly?"
The girl adjusted her glasses, and the light glinted off the edge.
"Shirley Doyle. Head of the Gressenheller Detective Club, naturally."
The plump boy bowed theatrically and grinned. Licking his finger and holding it up to the air, he began his introduction.
"Voilà! You wish to know my title magnifique?"
The spun his finger around and smirked.
"I am le detective fantastique, Herrald Paro~! Genius of the Gressenheller Detective Club!"
"..."
Luke turned his head to the final member. The boy in the tophat remained silent. In fact, he began writing in a notebook instead.
"And you are...?"
The boy continued writing and ignoring Luke. Shirley spoke up, since it was obvious he wasn't answering.
"This is Augustus Allen. The creator of the Gressenheller Detective Club. He's also a published author, as it stands."
The boy sniffed and continued writing. His eyes never leaving the page. He certainly didn't seem like the kind of person who could, or would, start up a club of any kind. But that wasn't the issue in question here.
"So, why did you leave me that message to come here?"
Shirley grinned and said three words. Those three words, spoken in her empty tone of voice sent shivers up Lukes spine.
"A phantom murderer."
The room went still and silent, except for the sound of Augustus' pen.
"You're not serious, are you? Are you really telling me that a ghost commited a murder? That's crazy."
Luke chuckled nervously and looked at the door again. A true gentleman didn't run from a challenge, but Luke could probably walk quickly enough if he got up now. Sadly, Herrald began speaking.
"But, sacre bleu! It is but le vérité! Just the other morning, I myself saw it with my own eyes!"
"It's a mysterious rumour that we want to put to rest." Shirley continued. "Ghost's and phantoms are disallowed from being the culprit by Knox himself, you know."
Luke put his hand against the side of his head. He was confused. Just what were they talking about.
"But... you said it was a murder, didn't you? How come I haven't heard about it?"
"Because they claim that it was but le petite accident! Only we of the detective club know better!" Herrald pointed at Luke furiously with a pudgy finger.
"On the day of the crime, the club was sent a letter from an anonymous source saying that the phantom was going to strike in our old clubroom on the second floor and to stay away. While we are detectives, we are logical enough to avoid possible demise if unnecessary. In any case, that old clubroom was the room the victim was in when it happened." Shirley explained and pointed upwards to help explain what she was saying.
'I see. So they were scared of this phantom, after all.' Luke grinned subtly at the thought.
"But, if someone died I would have heard about it, wouldn't I?"
Herrald and Shirley averted their eyes.
"Well, that is because of the, how you say, le...Um..."
"I'm afraid we may have given you one piece of misinformation in our haste..."
A bored voice cut in at that moment.
"Mr. Edgar's isn't dead. Not yet."
For a brief second, Augustus spoke up and looked at Luke with cold eyes. Dark and black, they froze your very core. But, almost at once, he went back to looking at his writing with a sigh.
"What does he mean by 'not yet'?"
Luke's interest was sufficiently piqued.
"Well, you see, le professeur extrodinaire is in, how you say, a coma."
"Damage to the spinal cord from being thrown out a second floor window. He certainly could have died. It's lucky just to be alive" Her tone was just as emotionless as ever, but she looked down at the table instead of at Luke.
As soon as she noticed Luke was looking at her, Shirley sat back up and pointed forward.
"And that's where you come in, as the famous Professor Layton's assistant, you will be promoted from Watson to Detective and will aid us in our investigation."
Luke chuckled and smiled awkwardly. It's not like he wasn't interested in the case. It had been years since he had done any work on a mystery... But still...
"Aren't you being a little hasty? I mean, it might actually have been an accident. And, besides, I still don't know anything about the case..."
"Mal! You know that the victim was thrown out un fenêtre, do you not?"
Luke shot a confused look at Shirley. He never did pick up French.
"He points out that you know that the victim was thrown from a window. That is, really, all you need to know right now. The scene of the crime will tell the rest. Trust me."
"Hmmm..."
Luke closed his eyes in thought. Well, it couldn't hurt to take a look around the 'crime scene'. And if there was nothing to find, then he could just leave. He had nothing to lose.
"Alright. Just a quick look."
The detective club smiled as they left their chairs.
"Then it is decided. Follow me. To the room where the murder occured."
Shirley opened the door and began heading up the stairs...
A shadowy figure sat in a room. On their desk was a photo of Luke Triton from years and years ago. He stood next to Professor Layton. Happy. Carefree...
"Layton... Triton... You took everything away from me. Everything..."
The figure picked up a red marker and drew a massive X over the faces in the photo before violently balling it up with fury and hate, and tossing it at the wall. As it fell into the bin, they grinned and cackled.
"Oh, Luke Triton. I hope you're prepared, because I am going to show you exactly the amount of pain you caused me."
And the figure threw back their head and laughed, mania cracking their voice and distorting their eyes. They laughed and laughed until they finally sat back down in their chair, seething with rage.
Chapter 2: Complete