Agnes handed the bottle to Lazarus, set it aside. “I’m not one to judge, Mr. Gray. I’ve heard about the work you and your partners do. I need your help.”
“Go on,” Lazarus said.
“First, you should know that I’m being pursued. Three men in dark coats followed me here and I’m sure they’re outside even now, waiting for me to leave.”
“I have this entire block under surveillance,” Lazarus said, leaning back into his chair. Despite the fact that he’d avoided work for the past week or so, he was quickly settling back into his old self. Having a mystery presented to him was good enough to wrest his mind from the past and orient it back to the present. “If there are men outside, I’ll be able to identify them. You’re in no danger.”
“But you might be,” Agnes countered, “If you agree to help me, that is. These men have been after me for nearly two weeks. They ransacked my home that I share with my sister and tore through all of her belongings.”
“And why are they so interested in you?”
“My sister became engaged last year to a world traveler and adventurer. His name is Whip Marshall.”
“I know of him,” Lazarus said. “He was profiled in many of the major newspapers not long ago, when he set out to travel the entire globe in less than a year. He’s supposedly going to visit every country’s capital and climb many of the tallest peaks along the way. He was also universally reviled for a paper he wrote expressing his belief in the Counter-Earth theory: that there exists a mirror of our world, hidden from us by the sun.”
“That’s right,” Agnes agreed, looking excited. “And my sister Maggie is his fiancée. She convinced him to take her with him on his journey. When they first set out, I would receive a postcard every week or so, telling me where they were and how they were faring. But now they’re lost somewhere in the Gobi Desert. That’s where they were headed the last time I heard from them. About two weeks ago, I received a small parcel from Mongolia. Inside it was this object.”
Agnes opened the purse she carried and pulled out an egg-shaped rock that looked like it was carved from obsidian. She held it out to Lazarus, who took it with his left hand. It felt oddly warm to the touch and carried a peculiar odor: it smelled a bit like spiced cinnamon.
“Mongolia isn’t a safe place for travelers,” Lazarus said, studying the object. “The Russians and the Chinese have been squabbling over it for years and foreigners are routinely suspected of being spies. The legal system there is just as corrupt as it is here in Sovereign, and that’s saying something. If you’ve heard from your sister within the past month, I’d say she’s probably safe enough. Given how closely the powers-that-be scrutinize everything that goes on in Mongolia these days, it wouldn’t be unusual to go a year without hearing from someone in that area.”
“I understand that, Mr. Gray. But I know that my sister is in terrible danger. Along with that unusual stone was a small scrap of paper.” Agnes drew a tear-stained fragment from the handbag, staring at it for a moment before handing it to Lazarus.
The writing was distinctly feminine though from the hurried scrawl, it appeared that it had been written in great emotional distress: Agnes we’re all dead here the devil’s circus Gobi don’t cry rock German man with ruined face RUN!
Lazarus took a deep breath and Agnes noticed that his eyes widened briefly. “Do you know what it means?” she asked, trepidation lacing with excitement in her words. Lazarus thought she was probably torn between a desire to know the truth and a fear that the full details would spell doom for her sister.
“Some of it,” he admitted. He set the paper down on the desk, resting the black stone on top of it. “I know a German with a ruined face. His name is Walther Lunt. He works for a mysterious organization that has ties to both organized crime and the occult.”
“Those men who have been following me,” Agnes asked, “They probably work for him and his organization?”
“Most likely.”
“What about The Devil’s Circus?”
Lazarus brought his fingertips together over his chest, a contemplative expression coming over his features. “I’ve seen references to them in various guides over the years: they show up in Eleven Occult Rituals That Must Be Avoided, Tobin’s Spirit Guide Volume Two, A Handbook of the Strange and A Guide to The Devil’s Footprints on Earth. It’s what it sounds like: a traveling carnival of the damned. It sets down roots in various places, stays there for a time and unleashes more pain and suffering than you could imagine. And then it pulls up stakes and moves on somewhere else. The leader of the circus is named Twining and he’s powered by Satan himself.”
“That all sounds so… unbelievable.” Agnes shook her head, sending her dark tresses dancing about her shoulders. “A month ago, I would have called you crazy for talking about the occult.”
“But not anymore?”
“No. Not anymore. That rock… the way it feels in my hands. It’s unnatural. That note, plus those men who are following me only seem to confirm how bizarre it all really is. I’m at my wit’s end, Mr. Gray!”
“I’ll help you,” Lazarus said soothingly. “But first we have to establish exactly what it is that you want me to do. Do you simply want me to locate your sister and make sure she’s all right — or do you want me to retrieve her and bring her home?”
Agnes closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, she seemed to have steeled herself. “I want all of that, Mr. Gray. I want to know that she’s safe but I also want her brought back home. I don’t know if you have any family but my sister and I are very close. Ever since I received that parcel from her, I haven’t been able to sleep or eat properly. It’s like I’m the one in mortal danger, not her!”
“You may be in just as much danger as she is. Those men who are after you probably won’t leave you alive, even if you turned this stone over to them. They’re obsessed with maintaining the secrecy of their order. They’ll kill you if they get the chance.”
“How much will your services cost me?” Agnes asked, her steely resolve withering somewhat. Though she obviously came from a well-to-do background, she was having doubts about her ability to fund this operation.
“We’ll discuss payment when I’m done,” Lazarus answered. “I won’t ask for more than you can afford. I don’t help people because I want to get rich.” Lazarus stood up, extending a hand towards the door. “Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll find a room for you to stay in. It’s too dangerous for you to leave here tonight. In the morning, we’ll visit a friend of mine at the Sovereign Museum. I believe she might be able to identify this unusual stone for us. The more we know about it, the more we’ll understand why your sister mailed it to you — and why men are so eager to claim it.”
Agnes rose from her chair and clutched her handbag tightly. “You’re a godsend, Mr. Gray. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Lazarus said nothing but a part of him wondered if he shouldn’t be the one thanking her. Before her arrival, he’d been about to throw his sobriety to the wind. Now he felt energized and full of life.
Somewhere out there was a threat to the entire world — and Lazarus was looking forward to putting a stop to it!
The Heart of Fortune was anchored three and a half miles off the coast of Sovereign City. With a crew of 300 people and enough space to accommodate another 2,000 in guests, the ship was a masterpiece of gaudy elegance. Morgan Watts loved it and he could sense that his date for the occasion, Molly Sims, was equally entranced. The gambling ship was one of the most famous attractions in the city and catered to the high rollers. The last time he and Molly had visited The Heart of Fortune, an old voodoo master from New Orleans had interrupted their date. At the time, he’d worried that Molly might not ever give him a second chance, but she’d finally relented, allowing him to invite her along with the other members of Assistance Unlimited to the social event of the Christmas season.