Oh hello. Sorry for the delay. I've been dealing with life! Doctor appointment, fainting and falling flat on my face/bashing my head on the floor, crazy family, urinating cat, Chicago trip-planning, work, looking for more work, helping take care of my huge family…
The usual.
You get TWO puzzles in this chapter! They aren't very good (as I wrote them….), but…. And almost 10,000 words' worth of reading too! Needless to say, this is a long chapter. It took me a while to write. That's because I needed to sort out the details that all lay ahead, and I had to make sure things were said in this chapter that will make sense later. I'm sure somewhere there is a discrepancy, but…hopefully I've cleared my tracks!
I'm really looking forward to the chapters to come. Some funny and just fun parts are coming up. I'm trying to keep true to the Layton style. A bit of the fantastical, a bit of the realistic, a bit of the mechanical (as, there is a heavy focus on machinery in most of the games, if you haven't noticed….)….going to incorporate an animal as well, as each Layton game/story has at LEAST one. What, there was the robot dog, the hamster, the parrot, the fish, the little mouse that Luke used in the Magical Flute (Last Specter)…..SO I'M HAVING AN ANIMAL TOO, DANG IT ALL.
It will be….one of my favorites. :]
Your thoughts are most welcome. Your suggestions are also most welcome! REVIEWS, EVERYONE. :]
Also, if you are in the Chicago area or can be on the 28th (this Saturday), ACEN is taking place in Rosemont, just outside Chicago. I'm cosplaying as Makise Kurisu from Stein's;Gate. LOLZ. There are also 2 Professor Layton panels. I'll be going to half of the first one, and all of the second. I'm missing half of the 1st because I'm also attending The Avicultural Society of Chicagoland (TASC)'s Midwest Bird Expo. Hopefully, I will be making pals with a few macaws, and maybe even a toucan of sorts…..
Anyways, your time and reviews are always most appreciated. If you find any failures on my part (misspellings, grammatical errors, flaws in details or of the story's chronology, lapses in judgment of making this thing canon), please don't hesitate to notify me. I'm obsessed with perfection.
Danke,
Kelsey
CHAPTER 26: WHEN IN ROME
The plane touched down onto the Italian peninsula, landing without the Professor realizing it. His thoughts had been so clouded (no pun intended) and jumbled, he couldn't even recall that he'd exited the plane, picked up his luggage from the baggage claim, and forced himself into a taxi van between Luke and another passenger—a particularly large woman—who insisted that she tend to her make-up, no matter how many bumps and sharp turns the vehicle made its riders endure. Laura sat in the row just ahead with Flora, constantly glancing backward to make sure the portly woman didn't suffocate a portion of her company. When she wasn't checking in on the Professor, she was staring at the small raindrops cascading down the van's windshield, lost in her own series of thoughts. She compared herself with the rain, her path as open and unknown as each drop's, diving downward with gravity.
'Getting carsick…' she thought to herself, hoping the journey was almost finished.
Layton took in a huge gulp of air when they finally made it to their destination, a huge hotel with an equally impressive carport in the front.
"That…was the most trying car ride…I've ever experienced…." he said with some trouble, making sure their portly passenger was completely out of earshot. He wiped his brow and rearranged his hat, continuing to inhale and exhale forcibly as if he was trying to cleanse his respiratory system from any havoc the heavy lady's perfume had wrecked on his lungs.
They looked around only briefly before a skinny man opened the taxi's trunk, quickly removing their bags. Valets and bellboys ran about the concrete expanse, escorting all arrivals to the entrance and transporting their luggage and vehicles to their own unique destinations. It wasn't long before the Professor's group was being politely hurried into the building as well and the taxi puttered away.
Flora gasped as they entered the lobby. "What a lovely fountain!"
"And all these plants! It's like a jungle indoors!" Luke exclaimed, grabbing a broad leaf from some of the foliage that crept out from a vine on the wall. "Is this real?"
"Indeed," Laura muttered with an interested smile. "Smell it? This whole place is crawling, living. Even the fountain is being fed from a small tributary that runs straight through the place."
"What?" The children ran to a window, only half believing her. Layton walked up beside Laura, shaking his head.
"The place is almost too extravagant, don't you think?"
"Petrolite is rolling in dough. Do you think they'd let me stay in any place other than the best of lodging?" she asked, feigning disgust of any lesser accommodations. "Nothing is too extravagant when one will not reside in anything below 5-star, Hershel. Haha, you know I'm only joking."
"Your joking is rather believable…"
"I don't choose the places, I just go. Hey, I'm not complaining, though! This place has anything you could ever think of wanting. Pools, gyms, spa, restaurant, 24-hour lounges, room service… I've only heard about this place, but it's indeed the playground of royalty and politicians. Anyway, enjoy yourself. Pretend you're a king, or just a lowly Parliament slave who gets to scoot in here by the seat of his pants. Either way, I'll go get us checked in."
Layton watched her amble carefully across the golden tiles, cutting through the many tourists and passersby that merely wanted a glimpse of the interior, unable to actually stay in the place for lack of funds. She still resembled a child, but one loaded with responsibility and cynicism. He couldn't help but smile.
'I guess that's still the same…'
He collected Luke and Flora and led them to the elevators, waiting for Laura to join them. Soon enough, she made her way slowly over to them, waving three room cards in the air.
"Got 'em. One for me, one for the Professor, one for you two," she said, handing a card to Luke. "Make sure you don't lose it. Now then, to room #939…"
"939?" Layton gasped as they entered the lift. "We should have quite the view, from that high up. I'd quite like to take a look around the area, walk around town, if you three don't mind. I haven't been here in Rome for years."
Laura looked at Luke and Flora, knowing they wouldn't care much for sight-seeing. They kept their grumbling to themselves, but looked at their feet in a way that spoke volumes about their genuine disinterest. "I don't think they're keen on exploring… Perhaps they can enjoy some of the amenities the hotel has to offer?"
"As much as I'd like for them to enjoy such activities," he said with a tone of regret, "I'm not exactly in a position to pay for such things."
The elevator dinged, signaling that they had reached the ninth floor. They stepped out and began looking for their room.
"It's company paid," Laura said. "This trip is all-expenses paid. Sight-seeing tours, restaurants…" She looked back and forth at the door numbers as they ventured further down the hall, figuring out the pattern so she could find their room more quickly. "And I let you in on this little trek, so surely you can enjoy yourself. Think of it as a gift from me to you. A thank you!"
Layton's stomach lurched a bit, Laura's over-the-shoulder smirk leaving him mentally struggling. He still wasn't sure what all this was even about, and her cryptic tones and language were off-putting in their own right.
Luke whooped as he pointed at their room's door. "939! We're finally here!" He shoved his card into the thin slot, the little light on the lock turning green. He twisted the handle and opened the door carefully. Within moments, the beginning of the vast, winding suite was exposed. Luke allowed the door to swing open on its own as the group stood at the entrance, their jaws dropped.
It was like an ancient Roman temple in miniature, pillars and smooth floor tiles permitting the light to bounce off of them and reflect around the room freely, even to the cathedral ceilings. The windows on the farthest part of the room could hardly contain the outdoor landscape within their frames, the city extending beyond them. It was like a portrait, but almost tangible, were they not nine stories high. A sitting area was prepared to their immediate right, bowls of fruit and plates of antipasto laid out graciously on chilled stone plates. Beyond the living room to the left of the windows was a bedroom, separated by a wall but revealed partially through wide French doors. The rest of the suite remained to be explored.
"My word…" Layton croaked dryly after several moments of taking in the scenery. He was thoroughly impressed. "This is quite the lodging indeed. I'm actually honored to be staying in such accommodations…"
"I'm afraid to enter," Luke whispered, removing his shoes. Flora replied with a small squeak.
"Afraid you might disturb some Roman god with your foot crumbs and mortal dirt?" Laura laughed, cutting through the other three 'statues' and entering into the room's undisturbed sterility. "It's brilliant, isn't it? No detail spared. I haven't stayed here before, so it's my first time as well. Much nicer than the last place I was at, and that place was posh in its own right." She walked about, helping the others to not feel so hesitant in 'breaking' the room's silent beauty. "Our luggage will be here soon. Shall we claim beds? Always the best part to argue over…"
They continued into the bedroom visible from the main area, then into a master bedroom. It had the same windows as the living room, looking over the city. Luke scratched his head, looking at Flora with a funny expression on his face. "There's….only two beds and the sofa, but four people…..Flora can have the bed, and I'll take the sofa, but that leaves only one bed for…" He attempted to stifle a snort. "Professor, you have to—"
"Luke and I, as gentlemen, will gladly take the sofas in the front room, we'll manage," Layton forcibly interrupted, his face brushed with pink. His smile was just as strained as the tone in his voice. "Laura will have the master. Flora, the additional bedroom. Problem solved."
"But, Professor, there's—"
"That's quite enough, Luke."
"I was only going to say that you have to—"
"Luke, please," he hissed, patience waning. Flora coughed, a bit confused at the Professor's uncharacteristic tone, as Laura cocked her head to the side, looking at Layton curiously.
"Is there…a problem?" she asked with a knowing grin. "What's with those ruddy cheeks? Luke only wants to verbalize his thoughts, so go ahead, Luke."
Luke shrugged, eyeing the Professor carefully. "I was only trying to say the Professor would have to sleep in the bathtub, since there's only the master bed left for you, Laura! Flora gets the other bed, and I get the sofa."
"Oh, is that all?" Laura chortled, amused at the Professor's now flustered expression. She couldn't resist milking the hilarity of the situation for all it was worth as she turned to face him slowly, smirking a devilish grin.
Layton's nervousness died instantly, but a fresh brew of embarrassment scalded his sense of pride. The children shrugged, Luke shaking his head.
"You're not quite yourself. Maybe you just need some tea, Professor! Personally, I'm starving, so maybe you're hungry as well."
"Perhaps…" He cleared his throat.
'I…guess it doesn't do well to assume…' Layton thought to himself, his brain a tangled mess. 'I would have put money on it that he was going to say something absurd, like…that I'd have to share a bed or something….
'I'm losing the ability to maintain my sanity in all this…It's as if I'm not myself; my thinking is skewed…What's wrong with me?'
A light knock at the door told them their luggage had arrived. Laura quickly removed herself from the room, leaving the Professor to a quick sigh and Luke and Flora to their own devices, their attention recaptured by the room's many opulent details. Laura shortly after returned, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, luggage is all here. Barely. Luke, your bag weighs a ton, what on earth did you bring?"
"Um…well, I thought I'd—"
"Actually, just save it. I can find out later. Shall we go on a bit of an adventure then?"
Luke jumped past both adults and ran into the other room. "Yes, let's! This place has changed my mind about Rome, after all."
"And here I was, thinking it was only old, crusty ruins!" Flora laughed, delighted. The Professor grunted in disapproval, personality returning in a rush.
"Only old, crusty ruins? My, children really don't have an appreciation for marvels these days…"
Laura busied herself with her own luggage, looking for something. "You mean to tell me you loved history and ancient artifacts, catacombs…coliseums? All when you were but a rascal of a human being?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I beg your honesty!" Laura giggled. "Honestly, Hershel, I'm ashamed you think so lowly of children. They're children after all, not stuffy old profs like yourself."
"My, there you go again with—"
"They have a higher sense of wonder and awe, a sense of amazement belonging to a higher plane. They surely won't marvel at the wonders of the earth in an academic way, as you would. You analyze and tear apart; they innocently accept. Let them actually see the Coliseum. Let it speak for itself. Don't kill it with an archaeologist's lecture."
After a few moments, their shoes were replaced onto their feet and everyone had what they needed before exiting the room. With their room locked, they made their way back to the lift, Luke and Flora racing to the button panel. Professor Layton cleared his throat, smiling.
"Seems you still know how to teach," he mused, keeping his pace with Laura's. She glanced over, catching his characteristic smile from the side.
"More than ever. You know I never wanted to leave childhood."
"In some ways I don't think you ever did leave."
"It's more pleasing, and calming, to think like a child. It's innocence. It's beautiful. Most adults have lost that."
"Well, it's helpful, since you can guide the lost back to it with such ease." He found it in him to laugh, a genuine chuckle. His nervousness ebbed and flowed like an unsure stream, waning and waxing without any control. At the moment, however, he felt…carefree.
'Maybe it's my subconscious, the fantasy and romantic quality of this ancient city… When in Rome, I suppose!'
He smiled to himself. "Shall we get something to eat first?"
"I don't' know about 'we'," she said with a grimace, proceeding to a low whining grumble. "You know I hate Italian food."
'...or…perhaps not too romantic…' he thought with an internal chuckle as they entered the elevator, smiling as the doors closed at the center.
The group found itself taking to the streets in a light rain, hardly enough for an umbrella, but enough to mist one's clothes with silvery webbing between the finer threads of one's shirt and trousers. Winding through the throngs of people, they tried (ultimately with fail) to avoid the deeper pits in the cobblestone walkway, afraid to soak their shoes in the clear yet deceiving puddles that had accumulated.
Finally, they came across a very wide establishment, a restaurant that took up the equivalent of three average storefronts. The ground and upper floors were open to the view of passersby, occupied dining tables and chairs lining the area despite the drizzle. Lights were strung across the ceiling, the rough, weathered beams dotted with radiant yellow pin-pricks that glittered as the warm rain fell around them at the ceiling's edge. Dark, green ivy stretched its stalks and wove its unmoving fingers through the railings, apathetically catching raindrops and—as for the upper level foliage—letting them drip onto unawares customers below.
The scene was fuzzy and relaxing, almost like a painting from fiction. The whole place could have been cut out and placed in a frame, captured forever above someone's fireplace or in a dining room. It was a feeling that didn't need words, and even if one tried to describe it, they would have failed in any language.
Laura snapped her fingers, pleased. "This is the place. It's a perfect place, as my instinct tells me."
"Indeed, it's a very charming restaurant, straight from a story book," the Professor agreed, taking in the environment, the light chatter, the energy that calmly oozed from the scene. "Quite the romantic choice though, I must say, Laura," he continued as the children walked ahead through the two entrance doors, smelling the air with amusement. "Don't tell me you're into the emotional and subjective now, hmm?"
With a brief glare, she chuckled. "I've always liked this sort of environment. Innocent fun, a pleasurable atmosphere with food, drink, friends, family. It's relaxing, it's revitalizing. There's no poking fun, no blatant debauchery, no demeaning, raunchiness to it. It's all basic entertainment. There's an energy here." She took in a deep breath. "Smells great, tastes terrible. Welcome to Italy…"
"Now, now, you shouldn't judge it all so quickly."
A hostess smiled at them from afar, careening down the aisle and through a large party that was finally being seated.
"Benvenuti, welcome to Rulli's," she said when she reached them, talking boldly above all the sound. Her accent was unquestionably Italian, but it was apparent that her practice of English (due to all of the tourists) was constant. "Four in your party?"
The Professor nodded. "Indeed, miss. May I request seating on the uppermost level, perhaps on the balcony if it is available?"
"Right this way," she said with a wide grin, leading them forward. "I'll try to fit you in on the mezzanine."
They were seated, waited upon, served, and fed within the hour, despite the crowd. Laura stuck to the most anti-pasta, non-Italian dish on the menu whereas the others reveled in the authentic cuisine. After about an hour's worth of conversation, exhausting all possible topics that Luke and Flora would be interested in while digesting their heavy meal, the children asked to wander about the restaurant to look at the small lobby down below, and perhaps get a better view (and perhaps a bite) of the on-site bakery.
With a slight wave of his hand and a permitting smile, the Professor allowed the children to go toss coins in the indoor fountain and take a look at the desserts and pastries in a wide display case on the lower level of the restaurant. He loved them both dearly, but was anticipating some privacy all day and evening, and gladly seized the opportunity for some time to speak openly without minors present.
"You're letting them go off?" Laura questioned with some surprise.
"They won't run amok like younger children. They're bright, they won't get themselves into trouble," he reasoned, leaning forward with his hands folded on the table. "Besides, it's the closest to alone we'll ever be on this venture."
Laura laughed. "Alone, huh? That's rather frank," she mumbled, the faintest purr in her voice, as she rested her chin in her palm.
"Not like that…" Layton's cheeks turned red as he felt her eyes staring, trying to pry more out of him. "I want to talk about purely adult affairs…"
"Ooo, now it's adult affairs. …Still frank." She snorted softly, rolling her eyes.
"You know what I mean!"
"Indeed." She gave him a sarcastic sneer, holding her gaze on him. She sensed his resolve buckling, grinning in triumph when he finally laughed.
"Okay, fine, it's funny. I'm…just not used to this. This…this sort of business…"
"Now it's business? Okay, back to important things then!" She giggled, feeling a bit childish for carrying on with such antics as he looked at her with fake frustration, his eyes squinted. "Okay, okay, I'll stop playing with you. Honestly though, Hershel, let's take this opportunity to discuss some things. Tomorrow, 8 AM, I'll be talking with some contractors and engineers about installing my drill off the coast. In the meantime, I want you to use that intuition and intellect of yours to do some…investigating, if you will."
The Professor nodded slowly, looking at the corner of the table. "Yes, it's a shame you don't know more about your employer. I would like some sort of start, a place to begin. Is there even a rumor, any gossip about Mr. Leopold?"
"His whole being is shadowed. I know little about him for certain, other than his involvement with oil, and hiring me. However…" she dropped her voice's volume significantly, looking about her, "I did tell you he used to live here, in Italy. Perhaps you should try looking about for his parents, asking them some things? I'm not sure how keen they are about revealing information about the Chancey family, but… You could certainly try. You knew Edward Senior well, and that should account for something. Maybe try to find some Chancey family friends, some servants… I'm certain they'd have those."
"Where did they live?"
"Along the coast, in some place called Ostia, from what I've heard. It's about half an hour from here, and 15 minutes from the place I'll be, in Fiumicino. You can take the train to speed things up. Even if you find nothing, there's always the memory of the coast that you get to take home. It's a lovely spot for visitors, and even citizens of Rome go there for light vacationing. Lots of ruins too," she said with a sheepish grin. She absentmindedly rubbed her hands together, the drizzled rain just barely blowing into the balcony. "I really do appreciate you coming out here, dropping everything, with really no lead at all. I just…didn't know what to do. I thought that two heads are better than one, in the end. And yours is the only other one I can currently trust."
He hid his shame behind a fake smile. Truly, he didn't want to help at all. It was mostly his own guilty conscience that made him go along with Laura's observations about the man behind England's oil problems. He blamed his gentlemanly code, knowing that were he to ignore her, he'd regret it forever, based solely on the fact that he didn't help someone in need.
But…there was also the past…his want of atonement…his need of atonement…
"Yes, you are very much correct. Two heads are better…" He shook off his pity and let his mind return to the task at hand. "Okay, but…as for the Book…"
"Oh, yes, that. Let's just call it 'the artifact' for secrecy's sake."
"Very well. I have heard of the artifact you mentioned on the aeroplane," the Professor said while picking at the remainder of his pasta mindlessly. "It's one of the greatest mysteries from the time directly following the Middle Ages, around the Enlightening. The artifact itself has been missing for quite some time. It continuously gets stolen, found, stolen again. My biggest and most pressing questions are: how did you manage to come across it, and where is it now, at this moment?"
With a disappointed sigh, Laura tapped her fingers lightly against the top of the table. "Those questions currently…I don't have the answers to." She had given up on her own dish, instead taking small sips of water occasionally. "All I know is that Leopold used it a few times in my presence, for what reason, I do not know. Actually, he didn't know that I was watching him, taking note of what he was doing. And after some extremely brief research, I decided to sneak a few pages out of it for my own use. I've been doing some…experiments, to find out its secrets."
"You? You are interested in ancient artifacts?" he chortled, thoroughly amused. "Doing research and experiments even!"
"Shut 's not your average artifact. It's not like some stupid rock or rudimentary caveman tool that you wanna clean up and stow away in some museum case! Although those are still a bit interesting…" She rolled her eyes and decided to ignore the Professor's mild scoffing at her admission of archaeological studies being somewhat enjoyable. "As for its location now, I have no idea whatsoever. Leopold most likely still has it, but it's hidden."
Layton let the humor from the situation die, and then groaned in frustration, as if he'd just lost a very financially risky gamble. He shook his head. "It's been missing for some time. Its whereabouts have been unknown for a few years now, and right after it was just recovered too! I don't understand why the thing has such terrible luck and can't remain in one place for more than a couple of years at a time. It's like a very coveted, rare piece of artwork."
"Are you fond of the thing? You seem….angered."
"Merely annoyed, nothing more," he said, regaining composure. He closed his eyes and smiled. "The Book of Memory, in the wrong hands, could be dangerous. Do you truly know its purpose, its reason for use? As I have heard, and have seen firsthand from the page you sent me in the post, it lists connections, or memories, shared by two people."
"Yes, yes," Laura concurred, nodding furiously, "and what's more, it's rather detailed, hardly vague, and mighty accurate. For instance, I might forget something that I did with you years ago, something so insignificant as passing you at the grocery. Yet, it will pick it up, write it in the list, as if I'd written it in a diary years ago. I don't know exactly how the book works, but I have the theory that these memories and thoughts remain stored in our subconscious minds somewhere, and sometimes, even triggers in our environment won't remind us of them. But…this book…it knows. Somehow."
"Indeed. Back in a time before security cameras and extensive record keeping—when eye witness accounts were one's only form of proof—criminal cases without justified verdicts gave rise to the supposed need for such a tool." It was apparent that the Professor had finally hit the point in the conversation he relished most: presentation of historical background. His vocal speed increased as he talked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, staring straight ahead at Laura, but not really looking into her eyes."It is commonly believed throughout archaeological circles that the Book of Memory was created by a frustrated constable who found the judicial system poor. Whether this is myth or truth is another story.
"Criminals were aplenty, but who was truly innocent? Legend has it that the constable wanted a way to link the supposed 'guilty' to the victims of the crimes, to find the truth. So, he turned to the dark arts. The story goes that he successfully managed to create a way to link two people, to list their memories, their involvement with events with one another. It was like an impartial recorder of facts, a truth serum of sorts. For centuries, it was used by honest judges and corrupt officials alike. It was juggled from kings to peasants to mafia lords. Until the modern era, it was used for a variety of reasons, including those that drove their user to madness, such as paranoia."
Laura blinked. "I'm amazed there's so much known about this. It was hard enough finding information on it from historians! Yet you know so much. Is this information hidden?"
"I pry into things that…I probably shouldn't," the Professor said with a meek grin. "It doesn't surprise me that you found nothing. Everything I know about it is based on years of fact collecting, and from very distinguished historians who keep the subject of their research close, and their research's secrets closer. Whether or not the information holds true, again, that's something that I don't know."
The waitress returned to the table, refilling glasses of water and taking the empty plates. "May I interest you in dessert?"
"Why yes. Do you carry raspberry gelato?" Professor Layton said airily. "I'd like some of that if you do."
"Of course, sir. And…you?"
Laura shook her head. "I'm okay." After waiting for the waitress to walk away, she snorted. "Raspberry gelato? What a girly dessert."
"Hardly! You musn't judge it before you try."
"Well, as you were saying…"
"Oh, yes…" He looked at Laura scornfully, then resumed his former composure. "Anyway, about that artifact, it can make one obsessed with the past, obsessed with connections, associations. It's driven some kings and those in power to become paranoid and obsessive, causing them to murder anyone working under them, merely for imagined, suspicious activity and any slight lead from the Book that there was conspiracy underfoot. Some things just shouldn't be recorded, shouldn't be kept so…closely documented. And if they are, they must only be uncovered by a stable person."
Laura nodded, a sad look in her eyes. "Yes…I know that more than any. At the same time, when used properly, it can be exceedingly helpful."
"I'm already counting the ways… What a tool for Scotland Yard! I have an inspector friend who would put this to terrific use…"
At that moment, Luke and Flora returned to the side of the table with giggles and weak yawns.
"Whoop! Someone's getting tired!" Laura said with a slight laugh. "Shall we head out after the Professor's prissy dessert?"
"It is not prissy!"
"Oh, so sorry: sissy dessert." She smirked playfully as he waited amidst Luke and Flora's chortling. He sighed, disgruntled.
"The things I do for my students…"
Luke and Flora had drifted off during an episode of some Italian show that resembled "The Three Stooges", black and white slapstick antics blinking across the screen regardless of whether they had an attentive audience or not. Professor Layton pulled a couple of light blankets from a linen closet and covered the children before dimming the lights. Silently, he tiptoed through the dark bedroom and into the master suite.
"Manners, Professor, manners…" Laura was seated on the bed, staring at a stack of papers she was holding. She was dressed in a black, fleece robe a couple of sizes too big for her.
"I knocked lightly. I thought you heard it."
"No big deal. Not like I was undressing or something. Ah ha! Got you to blush!" Organizing her things, she stuffed the papers into a small luggage bag. "Anyway, what's up?"
"I'll be taking Luke and Flora along with me tomorrow morning. They can assist me in my investigation. Do you mind?"
She shrugged. "Not really, but I didn't think you wanted them involved."
"I don't, but Luke's quite the developing detective. He tends to point out certain details that I might have passed over and wouldn't have picked up at all, were he not so observant. Flora adds in where she can."
"Speaking of Luke, who'd have known he'd packed his entire wardrobe and every stuffed animal known to man."
"That…I had no knowledge of. Hopefully the airline didn't charge extra…"
"Not my dime! As for the children accompanying you, it's completely up to yourself. Just try to keep things under wraps, whatever you find. Also, I think you should leave and head out a bit after I do, to defray any…possible suspicion. I should be finished around midday." She turned to him and smiled tiredly. "Hopefully, you get some sort of lead."
"Yes…hopefully." He felt the need to say something further, but couldn't think of anything. It was as if he was in the presence of someone with whom he didn't know how to communicate, not someone with whom he'd shared his most intimate of experiences. He started out the door. "I suppose I'll be off to bed then."
Laura nodded, raising her eyebrows. "Me as well. Have a good night, Professor."
"P-Professor?" he stammered, turning back to face her.
"Yes. Professor. What's wrong with that? That's what you are, right?"
"I suppose…nothing. There's nothing wrong with it, it's just—well, never mind. Have a pleasant evening."
He closed the door behind him, enveloping his body and mind in a shroud of black, void of any light save whatever came through the windows from the moon and stars. He wondered why her uttering the word 'Professor' made him think twice, the address sounding foreign—at least, from her—in his ears. Perhaps it was old expectation, to be called 'Hershel' all the time…
He walked to his bed, heavily lowering himself into it. He fell asleep, staring sideways out the window, contemplating the mixed emotions still cluttering his mind.
The next morning came quickly, the sun blasting the Professor in the face with warm rays. He looked at the small alarm clock on the nightstand, right next to his top hat.
"8 AM… Laura must have left not too long ago…." He threw the blanket off of him and let his legs swing over the side of the mattress, his feet burrowing into plush, warm carpet as they touched the floor. He found his luggage, gathering a change of clothing and his bathroom essentials before taking to the bathroom.
After cleaning up, he found Luke and Flora already changed and ready for the day, whatever it had prepared.
"Oh, good morning, both of you," the Professor said cheerfully. "Are you ready to start the day?"
"Are we ever!" Luke shouted with a punch to the air. "I'm going to investigate this like I've never investigated before!"
Layton grimaced awkwardly, nervously. "I-Investigate? Whoever said anything about—"
"We aren't fools, Professor," Flora giggled. "We're here to help Laura out, aren't we?"
"Well, I—"
"'Well' nothing, Professor! We're going to figure this whole mad oil man out, plain and simple! Now, let's head to the free breakfast. I'm starving!"
Mouth agape, nerves fried (and it wasn't yet half past 8), Layton shook his head slowly as the girl and boy threw open the hotel door, racing into the hall as if on cue. He raked his brain, searching for a time when they could have possibly picked up on the reason for their trip to Italy.
'I've said nothing around them…How could they have known? Children really are nothing short of amazing…'
Three stuffed stomachs later, the group made its way to the streets, weaving through tourists, restaurant regulars, citizens, church goers, and the occasional pick pocket with a foot cop trailing behind miserably. Two blocks from the hotel, the Professor waved down a cab. He made sure to try and throw off anyone attempting to trail them. Before long they had made their way to a train station and were traveling quickly towards the coast.
"Since you two are keener than I thought," Professor Layton began, diverting Luke and Flora's attention away from the blur of scenery outside the train window, "I'll be more direct with you. It's true: we are conducting an investigation of sorts. However, it's imperative that both of you keep any and all details between us three, and Laura. This entire thing is wholly based on speculation, and I suspect perhaps a bit of paranoia on Laura's part, although I can't say my intuition wouldn't be acting up either, were I in her place…"
"What do you take us for, Professor? Kids?" Luke laughed, astonished. "I know better than to share anything. I wouldn't go around telling people anything about Leopold or—"
"Luke, hold your tongue," the Professor whispered harshly, Flora gasping at his side. "This is precisely what I'm talking about. Don't speak of anything. Just…record your information with grace, and hold onto what you know responsibly. That's what a gentleman does."
The boy, now red faced, grimaced and nodded. "Heh heh, sure thing, Professor…"
Within 30 minutes, the train screeched to a halt, and all of the passengers—including the trio—exited the cars. Layton nodded in agreement to Luke and Flora's reaction to the salty breeze.
"It's so clean and crisp!" Flora shouted. "I do hope we have time to visit the beach…"
"Sure we will, Flora," Luke said reassuringly. "The Professor loves the beach."
"You know what we have to do first and foremost though," said Professor Layton, who began to leave the train behind. "Follow me."
They began their trek by leaving the station and covering a sufficient stretch of ground on foot. After about 10 minutes of leisurely walking and scouting the area for what seemed like a good place to start their investigation, they stumbled across an affluent neighborhood. The road that granted access was blocked by a gate, as well as a bored and sullen looking guardsman in a small booth that resembled a cramped chapel. The Professor, with a small hand signal, motioned for the children to walk behind him and not say a word.
"Excuse me, my good man," he started, waiting until the guard looked up from his morning newspaper. "I was wondering if—"
"You lose your keycard?" the gatekeeper asked with a shallow sigh. "Again, another loss."
"I'm sorry, but I think there's been a misunder—"
"No keycard then? You want a guest pass?" He yawned and smacked his lips, obviously bored out of his mind with the lack of action around the place. What was happening at the moment was most likely the only form of human interaction he had had all day, and possibly would have all day. The man leaned across his little desk and pulled out a paper from a small stack, then handed it to the Professor.
Layton stood staring, thoroughly confused, but accepted the paper graciously. One glance at it told him all he needed to know.
"Ah, a puzzle."
"That's all it takes to get into this—ouch!" Luke grumbled as Flora pinched him on the arm.
"Don't make him suspect us! The Professor will get it in no time and we'll be in!"
"Yes, I'll…solve this momentarily…" He read the puzzle aloud to the children.
"If you plan on eating, you need one. The Tiber River is just as hungry.
The answer is as plain as the mouth on your face. Take note:
Only Stupidity Tries Inventing Answers."
(To the readers: this one isn't really readily solvable unless you have certain background information….but you can still try to solve it if you want!)
Luke exhaled sharply. "Well, the only thing stupid is this puzzle! There's no clue anywhere in that one!"
"Luke, mind your choice of words. I've told you to not speak harshly, but rather weigh in on the situation and judge it fairly. After all, there are plenty of hints in this. Look closer… What do you need to eat?"
"Well, food, for one. And I suppose money to buy your food?"
"Think more basically. Let me rephrase: what do you need in order to eat?"
After a few seconds, Flora snapped her fingers. "A mouth! 'The answer is as plain as the mouth on your face'!"
"Very clever, Flora, my dear," Layton complimented with enthusiasm. "However, that's not the answer. At least, it's not the answer in its correct form. Tell me, do you know what city we're in?"
"I think the conductor said we'd arrived in 'Ostia'…'Ostia'… 'Ostia' something or other. Something like that. But what does that have to do with anything?" Luke asked, shrugging. "Sounds like some fancy words, is all."
With a chuckle, Layton shook his head. "I suppose it is too difficult for someone without background knowledge on the place. You see, Ostia was an ancient Roman city, but it was not named arbitrarily. The Latin word 'ostia' referred to a 'mouth of a river', and the city of Ostia was near the mouth of the Tiber River. The last sentence of the puzzle spells it out as an expanded acronym: 'Only Stupidity Tries Inventing Answers'. Don't tell me you merely tried inventing an answer, Luke?"
Groaning in contrast to the Professor's chuckle, Luke clapped his hands together. "Another toughey, solved and smoothed out by our one and only…I'm guessing not many guests get in here…"
"I wonder what it takes to move in!" said Flora with a sigh and a sideways glance.
Layton penciled in the answer, which made the guardsman raise his eyebrows in amusement. Within moments, they were handed a special card to carry as a guest, and the gate was opened. They made their way down the beautiful avenue, admiring the unique coastal scenery and architecture of those wealthy enough to live on such opulent grounds. The ocean peeked out between each grand villa and beautiful mansion.
"This is quite the neighborhood, don't you think?" Layton asked with a light sigh.
Near the curb in front of a particularly large estate was a group of landscapers, dumping grass clippings and pruned branches into a large bucket. They paused and stared questioningly as Layton, Luke, and Flora approached.
"Excuse me, do you mind me asking a few questions?" the Professor began, slightly taken aback when one of them quickly shook his head back and forth multiple times, holding up a hand, palm out. The man ran off yelling something in Italian, and within moments was hurrying along a wizened old woman, her gnarled hands twisted around the handles of a rusty wheel barrow. She said something hastily to the man, then grumbled, rubbing her lower back.
"I'm not what I used to be… Good day to you, sir. It's been a while since I heard English. At least, that's what Roni here told me you speak. I'll believe it when I hear it!"
"Indeed," Layton spoke with a smile. "First of all, might I ask whether you need any help with that wheel barrow?"
Smiling, she shook her head. "Nice young men like yourself don't come through here often, but I'm just fine doing this on my own. No need to dirty your hands for my sake. Off to the local farmer's market, as a matter of fact. The master enjoys his veggies fresh. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Well, if you don't mind me taking up a little of your time, could you tell me who you work for exactly?" The woman stared at her wheel barrow and back up into Layton's face, her expression a bit hardened.
"Someone as classy as you shouldn't need it, but if you're looking for a handout, you need to go somewhere else. Now, you must be a smart boy, to get in as a guest. I've never seen you here before, so you must certainly be a guest. But you won't get anything monetary here. No, I won't tell you who I work for." She made to turn towards the direction of her quarry but stopped short when the Professor started talking again.
"You misunderstand, madam. We're neither panhandling nor soliciting. I'm merely trying to catch up with an old friend, but I don't know where he currently resides in this town," he continued, still smiling. "Do you by any chance know about the Chancey's?"
Although withered and worn, the woman's face lit up and flushed with color. It was obvious there was something about the word, the very mention of the name, that ignited an emotion of some sort within her. "You must not have had contact for many years then. That name hasn't been heard around here in years. I do not know of anything specific, but many of my fellow maids do. One used to care for them. But I must warn you: do you have an ear for Italian gossip?" She grabbed hold of the barrow again and coughed. "Come, follow old Rosella into town. I'll find you some girls with plenty of information. My, I hear an accent to my English, it's been so long since I've used it…"
With a flash of a smile at the children, Layton nodded. "I'm truly grateful, Rosella, thank you."
"Well," she croaked, glancing behind her, "I wouldn't thank me just yet. You won't be getting any information without a test first…"
They walked for half a mile until they reached a small, bustling market, tables upon tables of fresh produce stacked high in pyramids and in small boxes. Customers—adults and children alike—haggled and argued with vendors for fair hard prices, flitting from one booth to the next while searching for the perfect bargain.
The little old lady led them further into the cacophony and finally under a tent. She greeted three other women, just as weathered as her, in a foreign tongue.
"Young man, these are my maid friends. We care for those up on the hill, in that neighborhood you were just at. Any news of anything, concerning anybody, is heard here first. Whatever you need to know, these girls will know."
The Professor gave a slight bow and tip of his hat. "Good afternoon, ladies. My name is Hershel Layton, and I'm a professor of—"
"No need to introduce yourself so formally, young man," one of the woman called out. "We're all family here." Rosella and the others laughed and agreed vocally.
"Well said. Yuka, he wants to know about the Chancey's."
One of the women—the one apparently named Yuka—gasped and shook her head. She held a hand over her heart. "The Chancey's. Oh, young man, I haven't heard of that name in years. Son, I used to work for the Chancey's, how do you know them? I've never seen a man like you around. Regardless, you won't be getting any information out of any of us without some proof of your character." The surrounding women called out again in agreement. "As is our custom, you must pass our little test," the woman continued. "For a sharp looking youngster like you, it won't require you so much as a bat of your eye!"
"It's like a cult…of old ladies," Luke whispered, Flora giggling in quiet response. They were both more interested in the luscious fruits lining the tables around them, the tantalizing food attracting their attention more than the lucky lead that they had just stumbled upon. The Professor, on the other hand, forgot about the children momentarily as his brain began firing off, excited that he may have just found the perfect collection of information, gossip or not. However, he wondered if getting the info he sought would be possible, considering how private these women seemed to be. He began to understand Yuka as being the impromptu leader of the little soiree, and wondered if her boldness would create a challenge too difficult to get through, given their limited amount of time in the town.
After a moment's though, he smiled.
"I will gladly take your test, but to answer your initial question, I am a friend of the family, and have unfortunately fallen out of contact with them due to the many paths that life has led me on. I would like to catch up with them, as I conveniently am in the area for my work."
"Your work? Do you make a career out of oil?" the woman asked curiously.
"I'll give you more answers, should you answer my questions first," Layton said smugly, yet politely. The women giggled girlishly, sharing sideways glances.
"Aren't you clever!" Yuka cried out, laughing genially. "Very well, fair enough. You only have to answer this riddle, and we'll be glad to share our vast knowledge with you."
Luke groaned, taking a large bite of an apple (that he had snuck from a bruised pile). "That'sh the shekond one taday!" he said messily through chewed up bits of his fruit. "Can't we jusht get anshers, plain and shimple?"
"Luke, we'll abide by the group's wishes. That's what a gentleman does." He turned back to the women. "I'll have you all know, I'm a puzzle connoisseur, but you can try me with your best."
"Very well," Yuka stated loudly. "Here is our favorite one:
Go, go, traveler, you can find me in town.
All you need do is take a look down.
More often than not, I'm busy covering ground,
as everyone goes walking and running around.
All creatures will die, this is not news.
After all, living things do not get to choose.
Heaven for the kind, numbering few.
Hell for the ones with self-serving view.
I have a soul, though I will not leave,
Even heaven I won't achieve.
Nor even Hell, to earth I cleave.
No brain have I, to think or believe.
A human spirit after death should soar.
From earth, free forever more.
But what for those from history's lore
that make simpler, your everyday chore?
What of those used as stepping stone,
to step on, leap from, to your throne?
I have a witness, though not a clone,
With my reflection, I'm never alone.
Go, go, traveler, you can find me in town.
All you need do is take a look down.
A tongue I have, but no mouth to frown.
Doomed to dust, doomed to drown.
(The answer's coming up, so if you want to solve, reader, don't read ahead too far!)
"Hmm…well let's see here…." Layton thought aloud. "Something in town, can be seen looking…down" He walked about the stuffy tent, staring at the ground beneath him. The group of women looked pensively at his every move, awaiting a change in his deep thought. "Perhaps I don't need to go into town at all…"
'A soul? It has a soul…yet no brain, and no mouth, but has a tongue…How could something possess a soul, yet no brain…?
'It must make tasks easier, as is stated by 'that make simpler your everyday chore'…and it's never alone, apparently. A witness, a reflection…'
Luke looked at Flora, who looked back at him worriedly. "What if…he can't solve it? We've just ruined a possible chance to get some really good information!"
"Flora, you're going to doubt the Professor?" Luke retorted quietly, his eyes back on the Professor. "He'll have this…he will."
The boy wiped the sweat from his brow, wondering how the Professor could wear such a hat, in such weather.
'At least, I hope he will! And soon. I'm boiling in this place!'
In that moment, without any warning or change of his walking pace, Professor Layton looked up and shouted. "Aha! I've got it! All this talk of ground and dust and tongues and souls, not to mention, a subtle mention of a 'pair'. Ladies, whoever came up with this riddle, they are very clever with their words and imagery. For a moment, I thought our little answer was actually a living being! On the contrary, it is not. The answer is quite mundane after all.
"The answer, madam, is 'shoes'."
The women, thoroughly impressed, whispered amongst themselves. Yuka folded her hands in her lap.
"Quite the gentleman, and the brain, aren't you?" she laughed, a solemn smile at her lips. "That is a riddle we've shared amongst us maids for years. Many we've tested have gone into town and brought back the most ridiculous of answers! You may be the only one that I've ever heard of who has gotten it correct, it's been too long for me to recall anyway. But back to the task at hand… Ask away, young man. Any questions you have, we'll be glad to get answers for you. Surely, you must be some snappy businessman, marching around these parts, solving our riddles and strutting about as you are! Sharp, very sharp."
"No. Merely an archaeology professor. The ruins of this ancient city are my black gold."
"Very smart, you are," she chortled, tossing a look about the group of maids. They all looked upon him with respect and approval.
"Ma'am, you flatter me!" Professor Layton said quietly, his face deepening in color.
The woman smiled, her cheeks stretching and pulling her skin back into soft folds as she grinned. Then, she sighed, frowning. "Well, dearie, about your friends, the Chancey's. Unfortunately, you are many years too late," she said sadly. "There's nothing much left of them, other than the slab of land along the coast where their mansion of a house used to sit. Some man bought the house. Tore it down."
"Whatever happened?"
"Take a seat, young man. Yes, there's fine." She pulled a basket of apples to her side, the other women following suit. As if on cue, they each took out a peeler from pockets in their aprons or long pleated dresses and began peeling the apples rapidly. It was like a peeling circle (as opposed to a sewing circle), and they'd gathered for companionship, as well as a good story or two from the director of the thing. "You really haven't talked with them then for some time, have you? Many things have changed. You see, the Chancey's lived very nicely on the coast. Surely you know the man of the household worked in the oil industry? Their little boy, Leopold, the nicest thing. I suppose he wasn't really little, being an adult when we were around him last, but to his parents, and his maids, he would always be the little polite boy we had all cared for and raised. He was the heir to the business. Anyway, years ago, he…had an accident." The Professor raised his eyebrows, extremely interested. The other women cried out softly, expressing sadness with foreign prayers and light chanting, some making religious gestures.
"An…accident?" Layton asked, making sure he'd heard correctly. "Of what sort?"
"Some people say he was drinking, others say it was because an inexperienced driver was playing around too much at the wheel. I know it wasn't drinking, Leopold was no lush. He was the epitome of a gentleman. Much like yourself, as a matter of fact. But I digress. He was in a boat, and collided with another. It was a fatal accident."
Luke coughed, almost losing an unchewed bite of apple down his windpipe. "Fatal? That means he—"
"Luke, please," Layton warned the boy, afraid he'd reveal too much. "Let the lady continue."
"Yes, mind your manners, young man!" the woman said, trying to force a smile. "But yes, he was killed. Shortly after Leopold died, his father sold his oil business to his brother, as he was so distraught from his son's death. It's no surprise that he started developing a serious bout of depression. Never sought out help, never. Oh, what a silly man, thinking he could handle that load! It wasn't long after that, that he committed suicide."
The Professor shook his head and gasped. "No…"
"Yes. It was a shock for all of us. Two of our masters, gone. It may seem strange for outsiders, but to us, they were as much our family as our own families were. As for Mrs. Chancey, I'm not quite sure where she ended up. She left one day, and never so much as left a small note, saying where she went. There's so much gossip on that one, you'll be here all day if I got into it."
There was an awkward pause. The Professor, staring hard at the old woman, breathed quietly, trying to accept her words. "So Leopold…has been dead for many years."
"Yes, Mr…Layton, was it? Yes, Mr. Layton. Leopold Chancey has been cold, dead in the ground for eight years now. The memory of the Chancey family is just about as dead and gone, it's been so long without so much as a simple word about them. Nothing left, nothing to say or remember them by now. We're so busy, we just had to forget. After a day's hard work, caring for other families, at the end of the day, there's nothing to go on but prayers and a light sleep. That is our life. We've all moved around between families, caring for other children. It surprises me actually, to hear the name after so long…"
The other maids, including Rosella, concurred with small nods. Luke and Flora shuffled uncomfortably, clearly wanting to speak with the Professor, who was frozen in place. His head was throbbing, his throat was incredibly dry, each painful swallow resulting in the sides of his throat cleaving together. Had he just heard…what he thought he had heard…? It was bewildering, and it didn't make any sense. The sweltering heat had built up underneath his hat, small streams of sweat creeping along his scalp, under his hair.
'Is Leopold Chancey…actually dead? That would mean one of two things…'
"Is that all you want to know?" Yuka asked hesitantly, breaking Layton's reverie. He chuckled, then smiled.
"I'm terribly sorry, I'm just…in complete shock."
"I'm very sorry to have to give you such news. It's not the most savory of things to learn about, but I'm sure it's best you know now, than to continue searching about the city."
"You said this happened 8 years ago? Do you know, or remember, about when it happened?"
"Surely, it was in the summer. I want to say July, yes, July. Poor soul, he could have been so much too, amounted to being such a successful man…"
"Was there a body? I mean, was he buried?
"Unfortunately, there was no body found, of him, or of the other boat's captain. The owner of the other boat was never discovered. Apparently, not anyone from around these parts. Must have been a foreigner. The verdict was that no one was with him, but that's debated still, even though no one that he knew personally was ever missing, meaning his friends were all safe and accounted for. Some people think he ran around with a rough crowd, but we knew him better than that."
"One more thing. Surely, being the son of such an affluent and influential man, this…event must have been in the newspapers. It must have made headlines."
The woman looked off into space, as if trying to remember, but already knew it was futile. "I want to say yes, it had to have been. An obituary, something. But I don't have any memory of it, no recollection of reading it, seeing it. Perhaps in the archives of local newspapers."
Nodding, his mind a hurricane, Professor Layton rose from his seat and bowed slightly. "I thank you all very much for allowing me to borrow so much of your valuable time and take so much information from you. I'm eternally grateful, really. And I'm sorry for your loss, regardless of the time that has elapsed."
"It's never a problem to share our news with such a gentleman," Rosella said with a grandmotherly smile. "You be sure to come back here, if you need anything else."
"Will do," he muttered softly, tipping his hat. "For now, ladies, I'm going to take my leave and rest for a bit. I've been busy as of late, and it's caught up with me. Thank you again."
After a quick farewell, he ushered the children out of the tented clearing and walked hastily away from the women, who began chirping and chatting away under the secrecy of mother tongues in order to spread whatever rumors, gossip, and 'news' that they had each heard since dawn.
A fresh breeze swept into Layton, Luke, and Flora's faces, cooling off their sweat-soaked shirt collars and perspiring skin.
"Ah, that feels a lot better than the stagnant humid air under that tent!" Luke breathed airily. "Professor, where are we hurrying off to now? I have something to—"
"I know you're eager to talk, Luke," Professor Layton interrupted, holding up a warning finger, "but you must refrain from discussing this until we reach the safety and privacy of our hotel room. I want to include Laura in our findings as well. Besides, I'm not quite finished with collecting information for today."
"But, Professor, we just found out something big! What's more to find?"
"Luke, all paths and possibilities must be navigated and ruled out before making a conclusion. You know this better than anyone. Flora, are you feeling alright?"
The girl nodded her head, grinning. "Absolutely!"
"Good. After finding some water and a bit of food, I need to do a bit of reading, looking through some documents before we find some recreational activities to tuck into. After all, while the women's words were eye-opening, it still is only gossip. I need to solidify their story with facts. However, this has been a terrific lead, a marvelous place to start..."
Luke lifted his hat, running fingers through his damp hair. "I still wonder if you're just lucky, or your intuition is like a magnet."
Layton laughed, a spring in his step. "Lucky would be solving this quickly, but I don't think that will be our case."
'No, I don't think that will be our case at all…'
END.