The Rogues of Madame Mussaud's Chapter 5/EpilogueBasil of Baker Street and the Rogue of Madame MussaudsThe Rogues of Madame Mussaud's Chapter 5/Epilogue by *Brinatello
Chapter 5 (Epilogue)
One of my many downfalls is keeping a straight, neutral face. This is why, between Basil and myself, I would instantly lose at a game of poker. Jillian Loveur only took us a short distance to meet with her husband, whom was already heading out his front door. The moment I saw him, I failed at the restraint to hold back a gasp. Fortunately for me, no one heard it.
Benjamin Loveur is her husband!
"Impossible..." I frowned as the curator approached us, looking to each of us individually. "B-but, but I thought--"
"Darling, we need to postpone our plans and return to the museum," Jillian interrupted, taking her husband's arm. "It's your brother, he's there now, and I think he's going to do something terrible--"
"I knew it! I knew it was only a matter of time before he would snap!" Loveur growled angrily.
The curator pushed ahead of us, still adjusting his overcoat and hat, and dodging large rain pudd
The Rogues of Madame Mussaud's Chapter 4Basil of Baker Street and the Rogues of Madame Mussaud'sThe Rogues of Madame Mussaud's Chapter 4 by *Brinatello
The impact from the truncheon left me unconscious for a good fifteen to twenty minutes. The bad news, however, was what happened within the time frame I was not attentive. After viewing my current predicament, things certainly went from bad to worse. As my conscience returned to its usual state, I took note of that sensation I have had before of stationary arm and leg movement. That is to say, I was being tied down to a rather uncomfortable wooden bench. A torture device, no doubt. Blinking my eyes open, I stared up at my captor donning a black cloak and a full executioner's mask.
"Well, now, this is cozy, but isn't it tradition to get a last request?" As expected, no reply.
"Got 'im secure? Make those ropes good n' tight, chump!" I overheard someone talking in a dark corner of the room. Although he wore an identical cloak and mask, I instantly recognized that scruffy and inarticulate voice. It was that waspish