Agnes Berkshire was born with life handed to her in a silver platter, yet she still chose to run away.
Winding up in the city of London, working at an agency run by two boys with no adult supervision; in which she absolutely despises the owner.
1...
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"YOU DO?" LUCY ASKED, surprised by the boy's answer. "yeah!" "you sure you do?" Lockwood asked, wondering if his company would make a fool of themselves now.
"I know who that man is." George assured. Agnes didn't say anything, she was still mad at his outburst earlier but she still hoped he'd be right; for the company and to save himself from the embarrassment. "this better be good, Karim." Inspector Barnes added, doubting the capability of Lockwood & Co.
"Bobby, why would anyone carry a cast-iron still for two miles just to have something to bury a body in? you do it because it's iron. you do it to guard against the evil spirits you're trying to bury. of course, we're talking a hundred years before the Problem, so thats odd. but then there's the inscription on the mirror. you saw that, right?" Agnes smiled, starting to understand where George was going. "we're working on it. we've already hired an Aramaic translator." Kipps looked at Barnes. "they'll be glad of the work, but this is Phoenician." Lockwood scoffed at George's words with a smile. "very trendy in Victorian occultist circles. it means the truth lies beyond."
"the slogan of the Open Arms Fellowship." Barnes commented in surprise. "and about six other ghost cults over the decades, but this is the earliest use I've found. this death was no accident. we're looking at a wealthy occultist way ahead of his time, executed and buried in secret with a mirror that will be worth a fortune on the black market!" the brains of the company concluded in amazement. causing the rest of the company smile to their enemies,
"so, is it our case?" Lockwood smiled charmingly with crossed arms over his chest to show confidence Agnes did not know if he suddenly got it up his ass or if it was a gene from his late parents. "if you have a name. I'm undecided." a small spark of hope seemed to light on the small business, which was enough for Anthony Lockwood to turn that small spark into a tiny flame and the tiny flame into a conflagration— the blonde girl in a black jacket just wish that the blazing fire would play along their side; not against them.
"have you got anything on Dr.Edmund Bickerstaff in that report, Bobby? his family used to own this cemetery." George asked the Fittes researcher. Kat Goodwin frowned "Edmund Bickerstaff? he's a joke. Britain's most famous pervert!"
"mm-hm. unless he wasn't. unless that was the cover story for the real reason he was creeping round graveyards. doing what, I don't know, but the iron coffin, the inscription on the mirror... it's ghost related!" George exclaimed, walking around the chapel. "but you've got no proof!" Bobby exclaimed; and Agnes sighed deeply at the way he was correct, George did not present any truth.
"Bobby, just a hunch. something I read in a book, if you remember those..." George's words caused Lockwood to snort then stare at the opposing team in all seriousness. "wealthy victorians often secretly marked their belongings in case of theft. so, why don't you release that clasp for me?" George handed the researcher a cane. the boy obeyed, seeing the symbol of the Bickerstaff family; "Bickerstaff's crest." he sighed.
