Work Text:
Between avoiding death at the hands of the Irish mob, playing the role of the distraught head of security, satisfying her superiors, and sabotaging the World Exhibition’s inventions, Eleanor Halsted’s hands were full.
She hardly needed Celine Georges marching into her office and criticizing Halsted’s lackluster attempts to catch the World Exhibition’s saboteur.
Obviously, Halsted considered the French inventor to be very low on the list of people who posed a threat to Halsted’s life and career. Between the Exhibition’s sponsor, Leopold Rochester, Police Commissioner Baldwin, and Mayor Castletown, who could all end her career, and the Irish mob, who could end her life, an angry competitor in the Exhibition threatened very little of what Halsted held dear.
But she was a nuisance.
Especially as she stood in Halsted’s office, still holding her lit cigarette.
“Miss Georges,” Halsted said. “If you are going to visit me in my office, please do not smoke in my presence.”
“I--” Celine threw the cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out. “Well, if you were capable of doing your job, I wouldn’t have to be here!”
Halsted pressed her lips into a white slash and quietly exhaled. Lovely. This again.
“I apologize for being unable to immediately apprehend the criminal ruining the inventions,” Halsted said. “I can purchase you another bottle of wine to console--”
“I don’t want wine!” Celine said, gesturing angrily. “I want the person ruining the inventors’ work to be caught! And because nobody else seems capable of doing so, I’ve been forced to investigate the sabotage in order to catch the saboteur. No thanks to you and the rest of the police, I’ve been able to gather an idea on who the saboteur is!”
Halsted’s heartbeat increased and a brief thrill of panic spiked through her before she quickly quenched it. If Celine had conducted an accurate investigation and discovered something to implicate Halsted, she would have immediately said so.
Regardless…. What had Celine discovered? If she continued her prying….
Celine opened her notebook she had been holding and extricated a piece of paper. “I’ve been able to figure out who the saboteur is, and I think--”
“Wait.”
“Wait?! The fate of the rest of the Exhibition is at stake!”
“Yes, I know. But it would be wise if we discussed this in a more private setting, without the risk of being interrupted. Could you perhaps wait just two more hours?”
“Two more hours? The winner of the Exhibition will be announced in just six hours!”
“Yes, and that leaves enough time to arrest guilty parties and resolve this sabotaging issue,” Halsted said. “I give my word I’ll listen to everything you have to say when we meet.”
Celine had just leapt upwards in the list of people who could ruin Halsted’s life or career.
The Irish mob could end her life. Commissioner Baldwin could end her career. The mayor and a member of the Rochester family could likely do the same.
If Celine discovered something in her investigating... If she spoke to Baldwin, Castletown, or Rochester about her findings….Halsted’s career would end, as would her income and the respect she rightfully deserved from the rest of the police force and the public.
Halsted’s gaze fell on her desk. Her diagram of the 900-foot Exhibition Tower lay on top of her other folders and papers.
The tower had been finished a month ago, the engineers eager to copy the design of the recently-constructed Eiffel Tower in France. However, in their determination to finish their project in time for the World Exhibition, they had failed to catch one design flaw in relation to the observation deck on top of the tower.
As indicated by Halsted’s notes:
Safety barriers are low!
“Miss Georges, meet me at the top of the Exhibition Tower at seven this evening.”
As she pushed the button to take her to the top of the Exhibition Tower, Celine determined Halsted had to be the worst head of security in the history of Concordia. Celine was doing a more competent, thorough investigation into the misfortunes plaguing the Exhibition than a trained security professional.
Americans. There was a reason why the winner of the Exhibition for the past three years had been European.
If it meant protecting the sanctity of the World Exhibition’s inventions, Celine had no qualms with both showing disrespect to the head of security, and performing Halsted’s job duties for her.
Which was why Celine vigorously clutched her notebook to her chest. In it, she’d written, sketched, and otherwise included everything she needed to show Halsted evidence condemning the man behind everything.
The elevator doors opened.
“Hello, Miss Georg--” Halsted began as Celine stepped from the elevator.
“I’m going to cut straight to the point,” Celine snapped. “You have done an atrocious job at keeping the participants and inventors in the World Exhibition safe.”
Halsted crossed her arms, her lip curling. She had nothing to do with the several unsystematic, unrelated murders that had been committed in the past few weeks. Furthermore, if Celine were in Halsted’s position, she’d obviously do whatever the mob paid her to do.
“But I know who’s been sabotaging the inventions.”
Do you, now?
“I’m fairly certain Leopold Rochester is behind the sabotage.”
Leopold Rochester?
Halsted barely stifled a snort. Leopold Rochester had been hovering over her shoulder for the past several days, asking for updates on the investigation into the culprit damaging the inventions. He’d give his right hand before he ruined anybody’s creation. It was no secret that he adored marvelling over the innovation and creativity presented by the world’s best creators, mechanics, and engineers.
“Leopold Rochester?” said Halsted. “He’s been working extremely hard to find the culprit. Why do you think he’d ruin his favorite event of the year?”
“Because of this,” Celine said, unlocking and opening her journal. She removed a newspaper clipping from the book and shoved it at Halsted.
Controlling her voice and tone, Halsted said, “Do not shove things in my face.”
“Just read it!”
Oh, Halsted would enjoy giving Celine what she deserved. The woman had no respect for Halsted… no realization that Halsted was higher than her on the food chain….
Regardless, Halsted accepted the paper.
The heading of the newspaper article said, “ Rochester exiled following “Mr Alastor” Scandal”
Ah. That.
Not bothering to read the rest of the article, knowing what it would say, Halsted handed the paper back to Celine. “Yes? What does that prove?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Celine said. “Last month, when I arrived from France, I overheard people gossiping about a Rochester that had recently been involved in a scandal. Because Leopold Rochester hosts the World Exhibition every year, I thought it would be beneficial to investigate to see if he was somehow involved.
“I discovered that the scandal involved a Rochetser throwing parties, then inviting people with violent grudges to those parties, hoping they would kill each other, which they did. Although the killings only began this year, he was ‘Mr. Alastor’ for years. Leopold has been in charge of the Exhibition for years. Don’t you think two Rochesters hosting annual events, and death and misfortune occurring at both events, is suspicious?”
“Not necessarily,” Halsted said, shrugging. “Archie Rochester’s ‘Mr. Alastor’ stint was a result of a desire to impress a mobster’s daughter. How does a young man’s misguided notions of love relate to the World Exhibition?”
“Look beyond that! The Mr. Alastor scandal and the World Exhibition’s issues-- they line up perfectly! Archie is obviously related to Leopold. In his Mr. Alastor plan, other people did Archie’s dirty work. At the exhibition, different inventors have been killed for seemingly unrelated reasons, and the saboteur hasn’t been caught. What if the saboteur’s working for someone? What if all of this is somehow working to the Rochesters’ favor? They’re rich. Leopold would have enough money to pay someone to ruin the inventions, and he could make sure people were in the right spot to commit murder or be killed. Maybe he taught Archie how to get away with masterminding something like this-- it makes sense! These patterns line up! You have to investigate Leopold! You’re the head of security! You can surely do something!”
Halsted admired Celine’s imagination. She had invented an interesting conspiracy, to say the least.
“My apologies, Miss Georges,” Halsted said, walking to the edge of the platform and staring out at the Concordian landscape. “But I am not going to investigate Mr. Rochester.”
“You-- why not?!” Celine shouted, inadvertently spitting on the ground as she followed Halsted to the edge of the tower’s deck. “It’s at least a start! Who else would have the power, money, and influence to orchestrate all of the misfortune that has been occurring?”
“You would be surprised. But…. there is another reason why I will not investigate Mr. Rochester.”
“And what is that?’ Celine retorted, slightly leaning sideways over the edge of the platform to face Halsted, who was still gazing at the evening falling over Concordia.
Halsted faced the Frenchwoman. “Because I already know who the saboteur is.”
Celine’s mouth fell open as she stared at Halsted. Her shock quickly shifted to fury as she advanced closer to Halsted, shouting, “Why haven’t you arrested them?! Who is it?”
And as Halsted remained close to Celine’s face, unblinking, the Frenchwoman’s investigative spirit must have graced her mind with its presence, because in the final moments of Celine’s life, she finally, too late, realized she should have presented her suspicions to anyone but Halsted.
Radiating superiority with her cold smile, Halsted said, “Me.”