Hey guys! Long time no write. Lets begin!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lockwood & Co.
I woke the next morning, a chill seeping into my quilt. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. After dressing in my usual apparel of a skirt, roll neck sweater and leggings, I tromped downstairs, and into the kitchen. George was stationed at the stove, making pancakes. The kettle was boiling cheerily. George mumbled a gruff 'good morning', and got back to his cooking.
Lockwood entered the kitchen not long after I did, and sat down. He was dressed business casual as usual, hair dashingly swept back. He looked exhausted.
"Good morning." I said finally. Lockwood looked up at me, seemingly only acknowledging the fact that I was in the room just then.
"Oh, hello, Lucy." Lockwood said. He looked to me as if he hadn't slept in ages. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, but you look like a visitor. Were you up all night?" I asked, slipping into the chair beside him.
"I didn't sleep well, but I slept some. After coming upstairs, I fell asleep, but I woke up again not much later. I lay there, wondering about what you said, Lucy. About the fake article. So I went downstairs again, and reread both articles."
George had turned from the stove, now watching us, his glasses gleaming. "Fake articles?"
Lockwood nodded, and ran his hand through his hair. "I gave up around three am, and figured it was something for George to take a look at."
The kettle whistled, and George turned, preparing the tea. "I'll take a look at it, alright. Now, what was the difference between these articles?"
"Cause of death." I replied. George set the tea trey down, and I plunked a couple of sugar cubes into my teacup. Steam rose in coils from the mirky liquid.
"What were the causes listed in the articles?" George inquired. He set the plate of pancakes down on the table, along with the butter dish, and a jug of syrup.
He ambled over to the cupboard, and pulled three dishes from the recesses. He set one in front of me, one in front of Lockwood, and one for himself. After each of us got our share of the pancakes, I answered.
"One article said her throat had been slit, one said her abdomen had been cut open."
"Huh." George paused, sipping his tea, "Sure. I'll take a look."
Lockwood smiled wearily. "Thank you, George." He leaned back in his chair, slim hands folded behind his head.
I sipped my tea carefully, so I wouldn't burn my tongue, and sliced into my smalls stack of pancakes with my fork. I had smeared butter and syrup over them.
George had served himself a whopping pile, and was chewing amiably.
I glanced at Lockwood, who was staring out the window, a forkful of pancake halfway to his mouth. He looked away, and met my eyes. We looked at one another for a second before he gave me a smile, and carried the forkful the rest of the way to his mouth.
I looked down at my own plate, trying to hide the unexplained blush that was spreading across my face.
When I looked up again, George was smirking, and Lockwood was also looking at his plate.
When I finished my pancakes, I washed off my plate, and went back up to my room.
We were going back to the Cartwright house tonight. According to Lockwood, we needed to test a theory. I hadn't the slightest clue what it was, but I had learned over the period I had spent at the agency to trust his intuitions.
Later, I walked down to the rapier practice room. I thrust, stabbed, parried, and practiced the near impossible moves Lockwood had taught me. They weren't any easier than they ever where, but it took my mind off things until it was time to leave.
About four or five minutes into my practice time, Lockwood entered the room. He removed his coat; hung it on his chair, and grabbed his rapier from where I had left it. After dusting chalk on his hands, he smiled at me, and began practicing, viciously bombarding our dummy, Esmerelda with complicated warding knots. I followed suit, practicing as well as I could.
Lockwood suddenly stopped, walking up behind me.
"No, Lucy." He placed a hand on my waist, straightening my body. "Keep your hips and shoulders square to your target, and slice..." Lockwood demonstrated in a flourish of his rapier. "Like this."
I attempted to copy him, but apparently he wasn't satisfied. He guided my hand, and then sped me up.
"There you go! You got it!" Lockwood beamed his megawatt smile. "Now, practice again, and show me."
I half smiled. "Lockwood, I don't need a teacher."
"I know," he said with another glinting smile, "But that doesn't stop me from correcting you."
I turned back to Floating Joe, practicing the warding knot until I was quite sure I was right, and went upstairs.
George had parked his chubby self on the couch in the sunroom, a plate of jelly doughnuts on his knee, and the two articles placed on his lap. By his side there was a notebook, festooned with notes and observations. I strode over, and sat down on the couch opposite of him; grabbed one of Lockwood's gossip magazines from the end table.
"How's it coming on the articles? Any ideas?" I flipped open the magazine, and examined a picture of a woman in a posh business suit.
George nodded slowly, looking up at me; glasses shining.
"The house report has been replaced. See, I went to the archives, and got one of the documents that came before the Anthonysons owned the house. Look here."
George held up the two documents. The first was dusty, yellowed with age. The second one was nearly the same.
"I don't understand. They look exactly the same."
"Au, contraire." George said. "The document that stated her abdomen sliced has been aged not with time, but with water. You can see here." George placed the document on the table, and passed it over to me. I picked it up, examining it. The paper was crinkled and thin, but when I looked closely, spots on it were crisp white.
"You... can do that with water?" I inquired, examining the paper again. George nodded, "Yes. I tested it with this." He passed me another sheet of paper, this one blank. It was damp, but other than that, it had the same aged look as both the documents.
Lockwood, who had apparently overheard us, strode in, sitting down beside me.
"So," Lockwood began, "The document Lucy found has been tampered with. But the question is, why?"
George removed his glasses and wiped them on his sweater. "To hide something. But now, the question isn't why, so much as what? What needed to be hidden so much that the person needed to replace the document?"
"Evidence?" I said.
"Exactly." He placed his glasses back on his face. "Either the person did it for no reason, which is very unlikely, or they were trying to hide something."
Lockwood perked up. "Perhaps we'll find something at the house tonight. We'll have to be careful though."
"Yes," I said, my mind flashing back to the attack, "Very."
Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I love this story with all my heart, and keeping up with all of them ishard!
Ok, so the next chapter will be at the house again! I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned till next time!
~Starry