Chapter 32: The Name of the Game
As they climbed the stairs to Charles Charles' room, the Alive Again Avenger was already starting to tug at parts of her costume. She felt constricted, short of breath, as if she were trying to swim away from the pull of a whirlpool. Eugene shut the door behind them and wandered over to the bookshelf, while she threw off her bowler hat, along with the too-tight jacket, waistcoat and tie. Chuck shook her hair out like it contained all her jittery energy, before perching on the edge of the bed…
"Have you thought about getting a haircut?" Eugene asked. Then he gritted his teeth into a grimace, worried he had committed some faux pas. "Not that – I mean you look great but-"
Chuck waved his assurances away, reminding him that she had a skyscraper's worth of concerns at the moment, and anonymity was much higher up than vanity. She took a lock of hair between her fingers and held it out, trying to measure how much she could lose without feeling too bad about it. "You got a pair of scissors handy, Inspector Gadget?"
Charles Charles harrumphed. "Oh, but when I suggest a haircut you look at me like I want to cut off your fingers."
"Well that was before somebody really truly recognized me…"
Her father gave an I-told-you-so sort of shrug and sat in the alcove, resting his hands on the Charlie Chaplin cane. As he eyed Eugene she could tell he was barely sitting, body wound tight, ready to spring into a fight. She was glad to have him on the defensive, but her gut told her they could trust the pilot (slash government agent). Nevertheless, she would still have to call the Pie Maker to corroborate a few facts…
"So you clocked my daughter based on that one picture."
Eugene nodded, taking off his own hat and coat so slowly she wondered if he was trying to prove there were no weapons on him. "The name is what really gave it away. She – you have a…very nice face, but the most memorable thing about you is your name." He sat down in the chair across from her, rested his elbows on his knees. "Charlotte Charles – Chuck. Ned couldn't stop talking about you some days-"
"Of course he couldn't, the little creep."
Chuck was about to remind him that she intended to stand by 'the little creep' until the day she died, so he might as well adjust his attitude. But then Eugene interjected:
"To be fair, sir, he was a nine-year-old kid with nobody else in his life besides me and a dog. Chuck was like, his first love. I guess the only person he ever loved if he was willing to do what he did."
Hearing someone else voice this, Chuck felt at once gratified, almost proud…and a little bit sad…
"Speaking of Ned," said Charles Charles. "What exactly did you tell your bosses at the OST about him?"
"Nothing. As far as I know they don't know he exists."
"But they know about your zombie pets, because you were dumb enough to share your research with them."
"Dad-"
"No, he's right. And I was wrong. It might have started out innocent enough, just me being curious…but I got overambitious. I liked discovering things nobody else had. It felt like pulling on a thread, just to see what happens; just because you can. And then the whole thing unraveled…"
Eugene trailed off, wringing his hands. Charles Charles observed him wordlessly, mask obscuring his expression.
"…well hey," Chuck piped up. She felt compelled to fill the silence with something optimistic. "Sometimes you're the guy who discovers nuclear weapons, sometimes you're the guy who discovers penicillin. You can still help people."
At that Eugene sat up a little straighter. "And I will. But I could use your help. Do you know anything about any other dead-wakers?"
Chuck was taken aback by that, and it must have shown on her face – a mistake she realized too late. She pressed her lips together, as if to keep the truth from getting out. It occurred to her that Eddie had not avoided exposure all these years by sharing his secrets with strangers…
"Why do you ask?" Charles Charles snapped.
"Well remember when I said I saw something I wasn't supposed to see?"
He was prompting her, so she had to say something. "Please tell me it wasn't the people version of those frogs I used to dissect in Biology."
Eugene shook his head hard. "If there's human experimentation I don't have the security clearance to get anywhere near it. But I did get access to classified files while I was reading up on the Poppy Temple People. I found names of subjects the OST has under surveillance. Ned wasn't in there but someone from Papen County was…"
"Who?" Chuck and Charles Charles asked in unison.
"A woman named Emma." At the mention of the twins' mother, Chuck struggled to maintain her composure, heart fluttering with the frenzy of a bird that accidentally flew through a bedroom window.
"She was a military nurse, stationed in Egypt during the War of Attrition. Records suggest she died out there, got caught in the crossfire during an attack on their base. But then she made a miraculous recovery hours later…"
No-one said anything for a minute, but Eugene seemed to sense they were withholding something. He nodded his understanding and went on:
"Records show you were out there too, sir, serving as a UN peacekeeper. You and a man named Edward Egan - Ned's dad. The OST didn't connect the dots but I did. And I figured Mr. Egan must have known Emma. And he must have felt the same way for her that Ned does for your daughter. Which can only mean one thing…"
Chuck felt faint. She realized then that her breathing had gone all shallow and she forced herself to inhale, slow and deep. If Eugene had lied, if he were not on their side, then surely the OST would already know enough to snatch Emma up? Along with Chuck and Charles Charles…
"Well, if you have all this intel," her father muttered, "what do you need us for?"
"You need to help me get a message to her, to warn her. Whatever she's been doing to cover her tracks, it's not enough."
The girl named Chuck leapt to her feet, almost without thinking. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Charles Charles glaring. But there was no use being coy now.
"We need to call Ned…"
XXX
The Pie Maker braced himself against the dashboard, wincing at the screech of tires as they rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt outside the house. His father sat in silence for the briefest of moments – hands still tight on the steering wheel – before turning to look him in the eye. It was the first time Ned had ever seen him anywhere near scared…
"Kid, maybe you should-"
"I'm going in."
"You don't know what he might do-"
"They're my family too. I'm going in."
Without another word, Eddie nodded and got out of the car. Ned followed close behind, heart hammering against his chest even harder than it had been when they were running red lights…
The Pie Maker steeled himself for the sight of Maurice and Ralston bound and gagged on the sofa; Dwight hovering over them. Instead, they found the former peacekeeper seated comfortably with his feet on the coffee table and a book about close-up magic propped open in his lap. He seemed to have made himself a cup of tea…
"Well, if it isn't my old friend, Ed!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms open in welcome. "I see you brought the boy along. Trying to make up for lost time? All those Halloweens you weren't around to take him trick or treating?"
"Where are they, Dwight?"
At that, a smarmy smile broke out on his face. "We'll get to them in a minute. Why don't you sit down so we can catch up?"
"If you hurt them-"
Dwight cut Ned off with a hearty chortle. "Cool your jets, Junior. No need for empty threats. They're fine. They're not home right now, but they're doing fine."
He gestured to the couch across from him. Ned and Eddie glanced at each other before finally obliging, sitting on the literal edge of their seats…
"Ned, your friends were digging somebody up at the cemetery. The day I…shuffled off this mortal coil. If memory serves correctly, that was our old pal, Charles Charles, yes?" He nodded. "So you worked your magic on him, to give the girl a chance to see her daddy again?"
"We wanted to find out more about you actually."
Dwight tilted his head back, barked a laugh. "And what did he tell you? All good things I hope." When no response came he carried on undeterred. "You woke him up and I died moments later. That is interesting. I'm assuming you can't resurrect anyone without killing somebody else? It all has to…balance out."
He turned his shark-like gaze to Eddie now. "And here I was thinking the watches were just trinkets…" Dwight took his feet off the table in one swift, elegant movement. He leaned forward and held out his hand. "Well?"
"Tell me where the boys are first."
"Brother, you are in no position to negotiate. Consider yourself lucky I'm only selling off your watch…"
For a moment Eddie sat still as an ice sculpture, impotent rage coming off of him in cold waves. Ned could tell he wanted to reach for his gun. Instead, he produced the pocket watch and tossed it unceremoniously across the room.
The Pie Maker watched, sickened, as Dwight caught and cradled it, checking its authenticity. After a second, something occurred to Ned… "We're not lucky. You would've sold me down the River Nile if you could. But then people might connect the dots about how you came back from the dead." He felt a bitter smirk surface. "And you don't want to end up on the radar of guys like Treadwell."
Dwight had been ignoring him up until that point, focused instead on pocketing his treasure. But at that name he looked up. "Treadwater tracked you down, huh?" He let out a gleeful cackle. "Couldn't get his hands on the father but he bagged the son."
"That's enough chitchat, Dwight. Where-?"
"Did your dear old dad ever tell you how or why Clancy came back from the dead?"
The Pie Maker side-eyed his father. No, he had not. It was almost impossible to find time to sort through everything in the whirlwind that had become their lives…
"I'm curious too. See, I hated the man so much I killed him. He was trying to blackmail me over my extracurricular activities in Egypt and I didn't take too kindly to that. So I ended him, sloppily, I must admit…" Dwight stared off into space, apparently pondering past mistakes.
"You can imagine my surprise then when Treadwell wrote to me, gloating about how he cheated death and I was still going down for his murder. I showed the letter to my lawyer but there wasn't enough to prove it came from him. Just incriminating little details only he knew. Like how we really acquired these timepieces…"
Before Ned could even think to ask what he meant, Dwight started to stand.
"I spent 22 years wondering how he could've survived. Now I know."
The Pie Maker got to his feet, hands twitching. Dwight seemed to be preparing to leave, without holding up his end of the deal. "Where are Maurice and Ralston?"
"...who?" he said, causing Eddie to bolt upright too. "Oh! Right. Siegfried and Roy. Well, like I said, they're fine, just a little tied up at the minute. But all you need to do is sit tight, wait for my call and I will share their location when I am safely away."
"You expect us to trust you?"
Dwight heaved a sigh, as if he found the question tiresome. "You can ask your dad how I operate. I don't kill people just because, Ned, it has to serve a purpose."
With that, he donned his hat and walked towards the door. Watching him go, Ned felt infected with the same anger that had taken hold of his father. It flared, white hot, as he thought of Emerson, Olive, Chuck…of his little brothers locked away somewhere, scared. And for the first time in his life he realized he was capable of un-aliving someone not because he had to, but because he wanted to…
The gun was in hand before he realized what had happened. "You're not going anywhere until we know for sure they're okay."
Dwight stopped, turned, his gaze suggesting he was unfazed. "Well what good is shooting me gonna do? I'll be dead and so will they." Ned was vaguely aware of a hand coming up to cover his own, guiding it back down. "Yeah, he's looking a little trigger happy there, Eddie. Might not be ready to handle that thing responsibly." Dwight tipped his hat at them. "Gentlemen. You'll have your proof of life in an hour…"
XXX
As they slowed to a stop outside the gates of the Snook estate, Emerson had to suppress an incredulous laugh, so as not to offend Olive. Paris might be miles away, but at least he could say he stayed in what looked like the Palace of Versailles' American tween cousin. Even from here he could make out details of the old colonial home, with its pillars and arches and expansive manicured lawn…
"Anyone home?" he murmured.
And at that very moment, someone in uniform emerged from the little guardhouse off to the side. The man was so old and round Emerson figured he had been hired more as a human shield than a guard. But a quick glance revealed he was well-armed…
"Well if it isn't little Miss Ollie Snook!" He lowered his ruddy, bearded face to their level. "Didn't know you were visiting!"
"Howdy, Hank!" Olive greeted with a grin that quickly curdled into a bit of a grimace. Emerson soon realized why, as a whiff of brandy wafted to his side of the car. "My folks didn't know either. Just thought I'd surprise them for the holidays. And bring some friends along…"
Hank hesitated, glancing around the car, but then gave an assured nod. "Well, you hardly need permission. Welcome home, sweetheart…"
The gates swung open and she thanked him, promising to come back and catch up when they had all settled in…
"Is he drinkin' on the job?" Emerson asked, astounded. If anyone followed them here they would find it all too easy to bypass this 'security'.
Olive heaved a sigh as they made their way up the driveway. "Yeeeaah...bad habit he developed before I left for college. Between you and me, I think he picked up a case of the PTSD from the robbery."
"Robbery?"
"Yup. Rich people can be kinda cheap. And my dad figured he could save money by sticking to the one guard. Besides, in his mind nobody would dare try anything on the Great and Powerful Oswald Snook. Well…eventually a couple of guys did. Hank caught them red-handed while he was out on patrol, but he got hurt real bad before he scared them off. As a reward he got a big fat bonus and a promise not to replace him permanently. But we all knew how Daddy liked to fire people at the slightest sign of weakness. So Hank rushed back to work before he was even done recuperating…"
"And he brought the booze with him."
Olive gripped the steering wheel like it was a stress ball. "Hank should be retired. He only does a couple of day shifts now and then, when his kids need money. They got a younger guard, and a new security system, years ago. But I don't care what anybody says. He's a real mensch. It's just that you can't stick around here without suffering some kind of lasting damage…"
Hearing this tale of woe, it felt like a brick of guilt had been thrown through the glass window of Emerson's mind. He was too quick to judge a man just trying to provide for his family. Something the PI should have been doing too. Thankfully Penny did not need his money. He could hardly remember the last time he had a paying case…
"You ready to meet the parents?"
Cod nodded, but as he got out of the car, he was already deciding on a deadline for when they would return to Papen County. Dwight Dixon be damned…