Lex started walking away from the door towards the back of the church but Lady Luck called after him, ‘You can look until you’re blue in the face but you won’t find it.’
‘Won’t find what?’ Lex said, turning back suspiciously.
‘The secret back door,’ the Goddess replied with a smirk. ‘The only way in or out of this place is through the front entrance. They’ve got you trapped, Lex. It’s a dreary prison cell for you and no mistake. I must say it seems a shame — like putting a beautiful songbird in a tiny little cage. But you don’t want to join my church so I guess that’s that.’
And then, to Lex’s horror, she opened one of the front doors, stuck her head out and called, ‘He’s in here, officers. Please come and take him away at once.’
‘All right, all right!’ Lex said, panic stricken. ‘I’ll join your church as long as you help me out of this mess!’
‘You swear to be one of my official followers?’ Lady Luck said, eyebrow arched. ‘And thereby prevent my church from being closed down?’
‘Yes, yes, I swear it!’ Lex exclaimed breathlessly, his eyes glued to the door handle that was suddenly moving downwards beneath the policeman’s hand on the other side.
‘Then that’s settled!’ she exclaimed, beaming. ‘Your new oath overrides the old one you made to Jezra and you are now a member of my church. Well done.’
‘What about the policemen-?’ Lex began.
But, no sooner had the large wooden door started to open than there was a horrible, tearing sound from the metal hinges. The whole thing came loose and fell forwards onto the two officers outside with a crunch, crushing them to the ground with its weight so that, although they squirmed and struggled, they were trapped like pinned butterflies.
‘Well, go on then,’ Lady Luck said. ‘I’m sure they’ll get out eventually. You don’t want to still be standing there with your mouth open like that when they do.’
Lex didn’t need telling twice. He raced out of the church, quite unable to resist the temptation of jumping onto the fallen door on his way out and running along it, hearing the muffled grunt from beneath with a tremendous sense of smug satisfaction. And from that day on, he and the Goddess of Fortune were a team. Eventually she got a handful of followers back, but the point was that Lex had saved her church. And in return she gave him a little extra help with his more disreputable activities… Or, at least, she usually did. But she hadn’t come through for him this time and now it seemed that Lex really was in a huge amount of trouble.
The door outside the cell opened and shut and Lex scrambled respectfully to his feet when he saw his employer approaching with the inspector.
‘Mr Lucas,’ he began, in his best tone of ‘sincere reasonableness’. ‘I can explain everything.’
‘Having just heard the evidence from this officer, Lex, I doubt that very much.’
‘It wasn’t me, sir.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Lex knew he wouldn’t be able to bluster and bluff his way out of this one. But a bit of defensive anger usually went down quite well and it might help to take them off guard. He certainly wasn’t going to sit there and confess to being the Shadowman if that was what they were expecting.
‘I would like to file an official complaint, Mr Lucas,’ Lex said, ‘for wrongful arrest and detention. Plus the service here has been dreadful. I haven’t even been given any aspirin or anything-’
‘Lex, are you maintaining that you are innocent? ’ Mr Lucas asked.
Lex allowed his mouth to fall open in stunned surprise for a moment. ‘Well, of course I… Mr Lucas, with respect, how could you even think that I would… that I would commit such a heinous act?’
‘We found the Shadowman cards on him!’ the inspector snapped. ‘He cut a hole in the ceiling and lowered himself through it on a harness and he-’
‘Thank you, Inspector,’ Mr Lucas said sharply. ‘I should like to speak with my client alone now, if you don’t mind. And please be so good as to have someone bring in some aspirin.’
There had been a momentary flicker of doubt there, it was true, but after over an hour, Lex was sure he had Mr Lucas believing him. Because he wanted to believe him — for both professional and personal reasons, the lawyer wanted to believe that Lex Trent was in fact an honest, upstanding citizen rather than an infamous cat burglar, a manipulative scoundrel and an opportunistic crook. There was also the fact that Lex didn’t look the part. The Shadowman was notorious and daring and thrilling and people probably expected some dashingly handsome thirty year old behind the mask — a gypsy, possibly, with olive skin and dark eyes. They certainly wouldn’t be expecting some skinny kid from a city law firm.
‘It’s true that the black disguise is mine. I was using it to track him,’ Lex said again. He had decided to go for the ‘plucky-but-incredibly-dim teenager tries to single-handedly capture criminal’ routine. ‘But then the Shadowman saw me and shoved those calling cards in my pocket before pushing me through that hole in the ceiling! He tried to frame me! It’s just… Mr Lucas, it’s just insane for anyone to say I’m the Shadowman! I mean, I’m seventeen — I wouldn’t know the first thing about stealing from such a well-guarded museum!’
‘All right, Lex,’ Mr Lucas said soothingly. ‘I’m confident we will be able to sort this whole unfortunate business out. There are no witnesses, there is no motive and there is certainly room for reasonable doubt. We must only be thankful that you were not hurt. I hope you’ll remember that criminal apprehension is something much better left to the authorities, my boy.’
‘Yes, sir.’
And it might have all been all right then if Mr Montgomery Schmidt hadn’t suddenly burst into the room, his eyes shining like a madman’s.
‘Ah ha!’ he cried rapturously, pointing a shaking finger at Lex. ‘You have him! You have him! You’ve got him at last! I always knew that boy was no good, right from the very minute I set eyes on him!’
‘Montgomery, pray compose yourself,’ Mr Lucas said, removing his reading spectacles and dropping them on the papers spread before him on the table. ‘What in the name of the Gods is the matter?’
The two lawyers were old friends, as Lex understood it, and had started the law firm together some thirty years ago. And whilst Lex had come to feel something of a mild liking for Mr Lucas, he felt nothing but irritation and frustration towards his partner, Mr Schmidt. For Montgomery Schmidt could see through Lex. There weren’t many who could see him for what he was. But Mr Schmidt was one of them.
When Lex first joined the firm, he had intended to skim a little off the top of the extortionate fees the lawyers were paid. It only seemed fair. The firm wouldn’t miss it. Although it was true that Lex didn’t need it. But money wasn’t the point. He had plenty of money as a result of two years spent betting shrewdly on Games, picking pockets and devising and carrying out mastermind scams. He therefore had more than enough money to survive comfortably in the Wither City, even without the wage the law firm paid him. He didn’t steal and thieve in the interests of survival. He did it because he could. And it gave him a thrill.
It wasn’t like he’d ever genuinely wanted to be a lawyer, anyway. In fact, just the very idea of anyone actually wanting to be a lawyer made him shudder all over. It was something he struggled to believe. Such a desire went against the natural order of things. But a knowledge of the law was useful — very useful — to a crook like Lex. So when, shortly after making a bargain with Lady Luck, he had strolled into a tavern in a new town and just happened to meet a boy his own age travelling alone on his way to the Wither City — the legal capital of the Globe — having obtained a letter of introduction to secure him a most feted apprenticeship at Lucas, Jones and Schmidt, Lex had lost no time in pinching it from him while he slept and making his way to the Wither City where he then presented himself as the new intern. As luck would have it, Lex had studied law for a brief time before he had left home so he had a grasp on the basics. And it hadn’t been a very difficult thing to doctor the letter of introduction so that the name read Lex Trent rather than Harold Gibbons. Poor Harold — really, with such a name, how could he be anything but one of life’s losers? When he trailed into the city a week later, he was brusquely turned away by the doormen because they knew full well that only genuine law students with introductions from genuine law schools could become interns and this boy had nothing — nothing but a pathetic and entirely unoriginal sob story about how he had had one, but it had been stolen from him.