Case Closed

• Nine •

The afternoon before the party, Lucy was a haze of excitement. She buzzed around her apartment, choosing clothes, re-choosing clothes, choosing makeup, finding old jewellery of her grandma's, choosing clothes again, and again.
By 7 in the evening, she was dressed in a green, knee length dress with silver jewels around the collar, and a pair of black flats. Her auburn hair was tied in a plaited bun behind her head, and was pinned back with tiny jewelled slides. A light amount of natural makeup covered her face - she hated to admit it, as focused on blending in as she was, but she was sure she would be noticed tonight, if not by any others then by Alfendi at the least. Who, in fact, was late.

While she did not expect something to go wrong, there was always a possibility with him around. This was proving true already; he was supposed to come and pick her up almost half an hour ago. She wondered what was taking him so long, especially as the party started in twenty minutes at the venue in Covent Garden, which would undoubtably take them longer to get to than they had time for.

Pacing up and down in front of the door, she began to worry. What if he had had second thoughts about going with her, or going at all? For all she knew, he could still be at home watching rubbish on TV to pass the time. As she picked up her phone to dial his number, not really expecting him to pick up, she heard an engine stop outside the door, with a red haired man at the wheel. She rushed down, relieved, only to see that the car had vanished again.

Blinking in surprise, she was promptly blinded by the lights of another car pulling up beside her. Alfendi sprang out of the front seat and stride toward her.

"I'm so sorry, there were... complications in this evenings arrangements."

"Are you still on for tonight? "

Potty Prof grabbed her hand and led her to the passenger seat. "Of course, unless you'd rather not?"

She blushed and ducked into the car. "I can't refuse a gentleman's offer."

"No," he sighed, "you can't."

The drive through the brightly-lit streets of London passed mainly in silence, besides from the radio's quiet tracks. The drive was uninterrupted, to Lucy's relief, meaning they arrived just on time for the Commissioner's speech about the successes at the Yard that year. As they joined the back of the small crowd, he continued to drone on and on, until almost everyone was shifting from foot to foot. Lucy barely took in a word as she gazed in awe at the room they were in.

It was large, about the size of three tennis courts, with panelled walls and and a marbled stone floor. Colosal white pillars stretched up to the ornately carved ceiling. Glass chandeliers hung down, illuminating the room in twinkling light. To the left of the raised stage was a set of heavy wooden double-doors, that led out to a veranda overlooking the Thames. All in all, she felt as if she had stepped back a few hundred years in time; it was the perfect setting for a night with the Scotland Yard.

When the Commissioner had finally finished rambling, the band struck up a gentle yet cheerful melody, and groups began to form in the room. Lucy stood with the same people she had eaten with for most of the past week, feeling slightly out of place in this upper-class atmosphere. Alfendi however, looked perfectly at home amongst the jewels and suits. What was it he'd said... Ah, he'd been brought up as 'a gentleman'. He played that part perfectly.

Two hours and a glass of champagne later, Lucy was beginning to get restless. Various pairs had taken to the middle of the room to dance, but she hadn't seen the Prof since he'd excused himself and disappeared with the Commissioner.

Someone waved from near the stage. She didn't recognise the face for a moment, but it came to her eventually. "Officer Barton!" she exclaimed as she reached him. Offering his hand, she replied, "Nice to see you again, Sir. 'Ow 'ave you been?" Inwardly, she cursed her accent for making her sound like a clown.

"Not too bad myself. I've heard you've had a busy few months?"

"Oh, you could say that," she laughed nervously, "but I will let the Pr- Alfendi take the credit for that."

"Ah, yes. I wanted to talk to you about him." Barton's eyes flicked around the room. "You wouldn't mind coming outside for a moment, would you? I don't want to be overheard."

"Of course, Sir."

He led the way out of the door and onto the balcony. The night air was cool on her bare skin, but inside her heart was racing.

"Hershel has been in contact with the service recently. It appears Alfendi has been ignoring every effort to contact him; Hershel is beginning to wor-."

"Sorry, Sir, but I don't want to get in the way of the Prof's personal matters. I'll pass on a message, though, if you wish."

Looking slightly surprised by this interruption, he nodded. "Very well. Tell him that Hershel... wants his son back. That is what has been said to me."

"Yes Sir."

"Enjoy your evening," he responded curtly before heading back inside the room. Hershel wants his son back... she mused. I dare say 'is son disappeared along with the real Prof.