Chapter Text
LONDON AGENCY LOSES AGENT ON JOB, THIRD INCIDENT THIS MONTH
Lockwood & Co, led by Anthony Lockwood Esq. reported the fatal ghost-touch of agent Robin Blake while attempting to clear a home on Oak Lane last night. Both Tendy & Sons and Dollop and Tweed have suffered losses this month as well; a junior agent for the former, and an entire team for the latter (investigations are still ongoing). Lockwood & Co, Tendy & Sons, Dollop and Tweed, and DEPRAC all refused to comment.
Although it is too early to know for sure, speculation is that this month will mark an uptick in both agent and civilian deaths caused by Visitors. As always, the number of Visitors continues to rise along with the number of casualties as The Problem continues to spread.
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“Who are you?” George asks as he opens the door.
It’s a girl, around his age, with a rapier on her hip and a kit bag on her shoulder. In her hands, she carries a clipboard and a thick file folder.
“Lucy Carlyle, your DEPRAC liaison,” The girl on the doorstep says crisply, holding out her hand for him to shake. “You must be George Karim, associate to Anthony Lockwood?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re the new supervisor?”
She smiles, but it’s sharp. “I don’t like to use that word. I’m here to evaluate your…agency and determine whether you and Mr. Lockwood are worth all of the trouble you’ve caused DEPRAC.”
“You’re a child!”
“Very astute. I see your file hasn’t underestimated your intelligence.” She taps a black-painted nail against the clipboard. “That said, I am currently your superior so if you could please direct me to Mr. Lockwood?”
George steps back, gesturing her through the doorway and into the house. “He’s in the living room right now–we were just getting ready to have tea.”
Lucy nods, following him through the house.
Even though her clothes are typical of a girl her age–combat boots, tights, a short blue skirt, a blue sweater, and a leather jacket–the way she holds herself makes her seem unflappable. More professional than George usually is, maybe even more than Lockwood, despite the suits he wears every day. She’s not in a uniform, but it feels almost as though she is.
George raps on the door frame as he enters the living room to get Lockwood’s attention. “The investigator is here.”
He steps to the side, giving Lockwood his first view of Lucy Carlyle, and watches as Lockwood freezes in place. He’d done the same thing the first time he met George–he always flusters the first time he meets a pretty person.
Lucy holds out a hand for Lockwood to shake. “Lucy Carlyle, DEPRAC liaison and assistant investigator to Inspector Barnes. The file said an agent died on the job?”
George watches Lockwood shake himself out of his stupor. “Uh, yes. Robin Blake, our Listener. I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m Anthony Lockwood. And, well, I know who you are. Would you like some tea?”
He hadn’t known that Lockwood was already aware of Lucy Carlyle’s existence, but he doesn’t read the current news the way Lockwood does. George would much rather bury himself in the archives, with their dusty, yellowed papers, than read the likes of True Hauntings .
“Yes, please,” Lucy replies.
Lockwood gets up to grab the tea from the kitchen when George doesn’t move. He doesn’t feel like being any more courteous to their guest than he has to be.
In the meantime, Lucy takes a seat on the couch, leaving George the lumpiest of the armchairs.
When Lockwood returns, serving the tea, she begins her interrogation. “Would you tell me about the incident?”
“I’m sure it’s all in your file,” George says.
“That may be true, but I always like to hear the story from those involved, if you don’t mind. I find it helps me to get a better picture of what happened.” Lucy replies, unbothered by George’s standoffishness.
He doesn’t back down. “Aren’t you a bit young to be an investigator?”
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business. Now, the incident. It occurred on Thursday the 13th at 22:07, correct? 84 Oak Lane?”
George sinks back into his seat as Lockwood nods. “Yes. We were hired by the owners of the home, Mr. and Mrs. Winn, to find the source of the Visitor within the home. They believed that the Visitor was one of the previous tenants of the home, but all of the phantasmological occurrences were relatively tame. However, when George went to the Archives, he found that, in addition to an elderly woman who died in her sleep, the home formerly belonged to a reporter who was murdered during a break-in gone wrong.
“Originally, we’d thought that just George and I would go–it was likely a weak Type Two, maybe even a Type One–but after George shared the results of his research, we told Robin we needed him to come along. You know how murdered Visitors can be.”
As Lockwood talks, Lucy takes notes on a blank sheet of paper. She nods at the last bit, but otherwise doesn’t comment. “Did Robin often come with you on cases?”
“No,” Lockwood shakes his head. “He was an administrative assistant mostly, but he was trained as an agent and was a decent Listener, which was a necessity on some cases. George can do a little bit, but he’s primarily Touch, and I’m useless with anything but Sight. We mostly took him along for cluster cases and aggressive Type Twos. We don’t get a lot of those, considering how small we are, but we take what we can get.”
She nods. “So it was typically the two of you on cases. You said Robin was your administrative assistant–what did that entail?”
“He took client calls, made appointments, made sure all our kit bags were prepped, and restocked supplies when they got low. Since he lived here with George and I, he also did a portion of the chores and meals. Occasionally he would go to the archives with George to do research and he always took notes during initial client meetings. Other than that, he was regularly out of the house. Robin was sending money to his parents, so he picked up a second job out in town, and he was usually the one restocking supplies.”
“Did that ever interfere with your cases?”
“No, he only worked a few hours a week, and always during the day.” Lockwood pauses, cocking his head. “Actually, George, do you remember where he worked? I can’t remember.”
George shakes his head. “He never told us. I thought he was ashamed of having to work two jobs, so he kept them separate.”
Lucy flips to a different page and scribbles something down. George wonders what her handwriting looks like. Is it neat, like Lockwood’s? Is it a chaotic scrawl like his own? Or is it something entirely different, something unique to Lucy herself?
“Right. On the night of the incident, why did you leave your iron chains? If you knew the Visitor was dangerous, enough so to bring a reserve agent, why did you think you could make do with filings?”
Lockwood’s face falls. “It was– we– well, we forgot them. George– no, Robin! Robin was oiling them earlier and they…weren’t put back. Robin didn’t put them back. We didn’t realize until we’d made it to the house, and we couldn’t afford to come back later. Mrs. Winn was already skeptical of our abilities–if we left, she would have taken her business to another agency.”
Lucy nods, but something about it looks disapproving. “So you decided that iron filings would suffice, knowing that the home likely contained an aggressive Type Two?”
George winces along with Lockwood at that. They couldn’t have known that Robin was going to die. They couldn’t have anticipated how deadly the case would be.
Sure, neither of them had been that close with him, but Robin was still part of the team. His loss was keenly felt in the house, and not just because the administrative tasks had been piling up. George had appreciated Robin’s more level-headedness, helping counter Lockwood’s tendency to run off half-cocked, and he knew Lockwood had enjoyed having someone to share his ambitions with.
Lockwood sighs. “We thought that with the three of us…we thought we could handle it. Robin suggested we stay, but we all agreed to it.”
That’s not exactly wrong, but it isn’t the whole truth either–they’d forgotten equipment before, but no one had ever known because no one had ever gotten hurt. George gets why Lockwood doesn’t tell the DEPRAC investigator that, though. He wouldn’t tell her either.
If they want to have any hope of continuing to work after this, they’ll have to watch what they say around Lucy.
From the purse of her lips, it’s clear that her opinion of them is already low, and George can’t afford to have to find another agency to take him. His parents will be proud of him no matter what, but they don’t quite understand him, and he just can’t go home with nothing to show for it.
“Have you taken any cases since the incident?” Lucy asks.
“No,” Lockwood assures. “We’ve postponed the two cases we already agreed to, but we haven’t been taking client interviews. We’re still working on sorting through Robin’s desk and all his paperwork.”
(What Lockwood really means by that is that they haven’t touched it. They’ve both seen death, of course, but neither of them have ever watched a fellow agent die. It’s a horrible thing.)
Lucy nods. “Good. You should have gotten a letter after you filed the report, but I’ll remind you: you are not to take any cases until my investigation is concluded, and, if you are found to be at fault, your agency may be either temporarily or permanently shut down. It will also be marked on your personal permanent records and you will be required to disclose it to any future agency employers. If it is determined that you were not at fault, you will be allowed to return to work without any further consequences.”
She takes a sip of her tea, either not noticing or indifferent to the way both George and Lockwood have stiffened at her words.
“I’d like to see Robin’s desk now, if that’s alright?”
Despite the phrasing, George knows it’s not a request. Lockwood does too, clearly, jumping up from his chair to show Lucy down to the basement, where all of their desks are. He takes the lead, followed by Lucy, with George taking up the rear, although they both hold back once they get down the stairs, letting Lucy get a feel for the space.
She takes a long look at their setup before making her way over to Robin’s corner, next to the filing cabinet.
Of all of them, Robin’s desk is by far the neatest. George’s is constantly covered in newspaper clippings and half-empty coffee cups, and Lockwood’s is so unused that it has become the dumping ground for their supplies. Robin, on the other hand, regularly used his assigned desk for paperwork and case reports and kept it quite tidy.
At the current moment, the owner’s report from the Oak Lane case is open on the desk. Robin had had their case book as well, but Lockwood had needed to grab it to postpone their upcoming cases, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so in what should have been Robin’s space. Beyond that, the desk is tidy, and the small wastebasket next to it has been recently emptied.
George stays off to the side, watching Lucy work, trying to see the space through her eyes.
She closes her eyes briefly, and, although he can’t be sure, George thinks she must be using her Talent, trying to find any traces, if there are any. He’s not sure what she’s hoping to find. Robin didn’t die here, and it’s rare for Visitors to manifest apart from their bodies, since those are the most common Sources.
Robin’s body was burned in the Fittes furnaces, as was customary for agents whose bodies could be recovered. More likely than not, he won’t be coming back.
Lucy’s fingers twitch and she opens her eyes, letting out her breath. George can’t read anything in her expression, and a glance at Lockwood shows he’s got nothing either.
From a pocket, Lucy draws out a packet of black, DEPRAC-standard latex gloves and a black hair tie. She ties her hair up first, and then puts the gloves on as she steps up to the desk. “Just a precaution,” She says lightly. “Can’t go back and un-contaminate a scene.”
There are four drawers in Robin’s desk–one long one across the bottom of the desk top, and then three smaller drawers on the right that reach almost to the floor. All of their desks are identical, since Lockwood bought them all at the same time, at Robin’s suggestion, actually. Before that, he and Lockwood had done much of their work in the kitchen–a habit that they’ve returned to now that they’re avoiding the basement.
George isn’t sure what she’s looking for, but Lucy’s face is set seriously as she rifles through the office supplies in the top drawer of the desk.
While she searches, Lockwood leans over to George. “I can’t believe they sent her. Who does Barnes think we are, criminals?”
George furrows his eyebrows, confused.
“Come on, George, you have to know who she is. Don’t you remember the Wythburn Mill incident?”
“That was her?” George asks, trying to match the photo of the scared little girl, the only survivor of a terrible tragedy, with the strong and confident person in front of them now. He doesn’t remember much of the case, but that photo has always stuck in his mind.
Lockwood nods. “She claimed that the supervisor didn’t listen to her when she tried to warn him about the Visitor there. He wasn’t charged with anything, so she packed her things and left. Joined DEPRAC when she got to London and made a name for herself fighting agency corruption and investigating cases where agents died under suspicious circumstances. And she’s got quite the Talent for Listening.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet her,” He continues, voice somber. “I didn’t think it would be like this, though.”
Lockwood turns back to Lucy with that reminder of why she’s here.
With that context, the fact that Lucy was the one assigned to their case makes a lot more sense. Looking at it objectively, Robin died under incredibly suspicious circumstances. And, of course, Barnes has had it out for them since day one. He’d do anything to find a reason to shut them down.
He won’t say any of that to Lockwood, though. George might understand why, but he doesn’t like Lucy or the investigation any more than Lockwood does.
The sooner this is over, the sooner they can move on and go back to their lives and their work, the better.
While George and Lockwood talk quietly, Lucy continues her investigation. If she hears what they’re saying, it doesn’t show on her face.
When she doesn’t find anything in the top drawer, she moves on, going top-down in her search. The second drawer, similarly, reveals nothing, but Lucy’s eyes widen as she feels around in the third. She moves back to the second drawer briefly, then down to the fourth, before returning to the third.
“Have you…found something?” Lockwood asks tentatively.
Lucy hums. “Do you happen to have the dimensions of these drawers on hand? Are they all the same?”
“The drawers on the side should all be the same size, yes.”
Lockwood gets no verbal response, but Lucy nods to herself and pulls the third drawer entirely out of the desk, setting it on the floor in front of her. She feels around in the empty cavity where the drawer was, but after a moment leans back on her heels, satisfied. Returning to the drawer, pads of paper, boxes of pens, and, oddly enough, a spare length of chain, are emptied out onto the floor. Once empty, Lucy begins to carefully feel along the seams where the bottom of the drawer met the walls.
George finds himself creeping closer, hoping to see what Lucy is doing, and Lockwood does the same.
When the bottom tilts, the three of them gasp in near unison.
Carefully, Lucy removes the false bottom and reveals a small space underneath where a single manila file folder rests. The panel separating the two spaces was held up by four empty film canisters, and honestly, George has no idea where he got those. Robin didn’t even own a camera, as far as he knew. But, well, it seems like there’s a lot they didn’t know about Robin. All of this seems like an awful lot of work for one little file that, chances are, neither he nor Lockwood would ever have noticed.
Lucy pulls the file out, setting it on top of the desk so that they can all see.
“I’m going to assume neither of you know anything about this or have anything similar hiding in your own spaces. Correct?” She asks.
Both George and Lockwood shake their heads mutely.
“Right then. Let’s see what we have.”
She opens the folder, revealing a profile on Lockwood. The next page is on George, followed by a good ten pages of handwritten notes about the both of them. There’s also a copy of a resume and a page of, presumably, mostly made-up information about Robin. Finally, at the very end, is a short, typed missive on unmarked but expensive paper.
An application has been submitted on your behalf to Lockwood & Co. A copy has been provided with this instruction. Memorize it. Once hired, you will monitor their movements and report back regularly. Reports will be required biweekly.
As always, be discreet. You are on your own.
R.G.
When they all finish reading, the room is silent.
George breaks it. “What the fuck ? Who do you think this R.G. is?”
Lucy shakes her head. “Barnes will need to hear about this. There’s much more going on here than an agent dying on the job, and you two are all tangled up in the middle of it.”
She gathers up the files and turns around to face George and Lockwood. “And it’s not even six. Tea?”