Tales of Gloomsdale #4: The Horror of the Big Top

Chapter Eleven

It took me a few seconds to wrap my head around what he had said. Antonio leaned forward desperately. "Where is it? Where's the staff?"

Mr. Dubois stared at him. "Oh, dear. I shouldn't have told you that. I should've known children would be interested in something like that."

"We're not," I protested. "I mean, we are, but..."

"Take a look around you," Mr. Dubois insisted. "Look at all of the amazing and fascinating trinkets on display. There's so much for you to choose from. Surely it's enough to satisfy you without searching for more? You wouldn't be so greedy, would you?"

He kept his gaze focused on Antonio as he talked, sounding as if he'd told somebody else the same thing long ago.

Antonio shook his head. "No, you don't understand. We don't want the staff. Well, we do, but—"

"We can't buy it if somebody else did, right?" I interrupted, deciding it was best not to jump to conclusions yet. "Who was it?"

"Fine. I suppose I should tell you," Mr. Dubois admitted, before hesitating. "Actually, I can't."

"You have to tell us," Antonio pleaded, sounding a little too insistent.

Mr. Dubois shook his head. "No. I mean, I literally can't tell you. He never told me his name." He chuckled darkly. "He spent ages insisting I give him everything in my store aside from the things actually on sale, but never gave me his name."

"Well, what did he look like?" I asked. "Was he tall? Dark-haired? Did he dress in red and black, with a top hat?"

Mr. Dubois stared at me. "I'm right, aren't I?" I asked, desperate to be out of this strange place.

"Well, not quite," Mr. Dubois admitted. "He didn't have a top hat, and his outfit was very plain and ragged. He looked rather poor, as if he had been living on the streets. I was surprised he had so much money. Looking back on it, he must have stolen it or something. That's part of the reason I let him have him so much, because I pitied him. He also mentioned something about being burdened with a useless child that he couldn't care for."

Antonio gasped in shock while I froze, having no doubt to who it was now. We exchanged knowing glances before he lowered his gaze to the floor in dismay. I sent him a pitying look. I couldn't imagine his dad insulting him even as a baby.

"Did you let him have the staff?" I asked, not wanting him to dwell on it.

Mr. Dubois hesitated. "Well, no, not for that. That was in the back room. I let him enter, hoping he'd leave if I showed him. That was a huge mistake, as I can now see," he noted with a sigh. "He immediately took an interest in what he saw near the back. I told him it was the one thing that wasn't for sale, that I'd let him buy anything else at a discount, or even for free. But it wouldn't deter him, as if he was drawn to the thing."

"And did he... uh, take it?" I asked, my heart thudding. I suspected the only reason he was talking so much was because he missed having customers.

"Well, more like stole it," Mr. Dubois said angrily. "As soon as the light went out in my shop – actually, I think he had something to do with that – he grabbed the thing and ran off before I could stop him. I tried to chase after him, even left my shop for the first time in years. But he had disappeared into the night. The only thing I could make out was a red glow trailing behind him."

We were silent as we processed this astounding information. I glanced over at Antonio, noticing the terror on his face. Then it was replaced with despair as he lowered his head. Even though this was exactly what we had been hoping for, at the same time, it wasn't. Now that my suspicions were confirmed, I was more scared than satisfied.