Edward Graves: Temporal Detective
Chapter 9: Fight At the Museum

One of the men kept his gun trained on Edward and Jessica, while the other one set about removing the shackles from Dr. Churchill, or the imposter Dr. Churchill, with a fancy looking lock pick.

Keeping her hands raised, Jessica leaned in to Edward and whispered, “So what’s the plan now?”

“The plan comes in two parts,” whispered Edward.

“OK, let’s hear it then.”

“First, we come up with a plan. Second, we enact that plan.”

“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence you know.”

“Hey!” yelled the man with the gun. “What’s with all the whispering? Keep quiet!”

“Sorry,” said Edward, “I was just saying to my colleague here, this is my colleague by the way, say hello Jessica.”

“Hello, Jessica.” She could be sarcastic when she was nervous.

“Anyway, I was just saying to Jessica here, that we were outwitted by a truly superior force. In fact,” Edward brought his arms down and clasped his hands together. The man with the gun made a sharp motion and Edward put his arms right back up. “Sorry, I tend to talk with my hands.”

“You and your hands talk too much Detective.” The imposter curator was free of his shackles and was rubbing his wrists. His face was distorted around the edges.

“Why do people keep saying that,” muttered Edward.

“Gee, I wonder why,” whispered Jessica. There was that nervous sarcasm again.

They were marched into the Curator’s office and made to sit down on a red leather couch. The office was quite nice; it was just a pity that they weren’t visiting under better circumstances. It was almost cavernous in its size, complete with a mini bar at the far end of the room. The walls were covered with masks, artworks and other artefacts, while five large arched windows allowed the morning sun to stream over the polished wood grain floor. The couch which they were seated upon was in front of a large wooden desk and adjacent to another couch. Jessica couldn’t help but notice the man lying on the other couch, gagged and bound at his wrists and ankles. It was Dr. Churchill. The real one, presumably. He strained against his bonds and made some muffled, unintelligible sounds.

“Dr. Churchill, I presume?” said Edward.

The Curator just rolled his eyes.

The other Dr. Churchill, the fake one, walked into the room with his hands in his pockets. His face was beginning to hiss with static. “This was supposed to be simple,” he said. “We were just going to take the Stone and leave. But no, you had to get smart didn’t you?”

“Sorry,” said Edward, “occupational hazard. And to be fair, you can’t really blame us for your rubbish plan not working, now can you?”

One of the other men, a tall blonde guy, said, “He has a point you know.”

The Imposter just glared at him and the blonde man shifted uncomfortably and took a better hold of his weapon, pointing it right at Edward. He muttered an apology and hen remained silent.

“So what are you going to do with us?” asked Jessica. “And what about Dr. Churchill for that matter?”

“You probably shouldn’t have asked that,” said Edward.

“Well,” said the imposter, “as you probably know, we can’t Flux out of the museum; we need to leave the dome first. And seeing as we can’t have you getting in our way, then I’m afraid that we need to remove you two from the equation.”

Jessica hadn’t been threatened a great deal in her lifetime, but there was definitely something ominous about how he had said that last sentence.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have asked,” said Edward.

“Wait, so you’re just going to kill us in cold blood?” she gasped.

The man sat on the edge of the desk and began to play with a paper-weight or some such thing. “Trust me; nothing would give me more pleasure than to kill the great Edward Graves and his little girl Friday. Unfortunately, my boss would drag me over the coals if I broke our truce with the Council.” He tossed the paper-weight over his shoulder and then jumped to his feet. Jessica heard something smash behind the desk. “So you can rest easy doll- face,” he said to Jessica, “you’ll get to keep your pretty little brain inside your pretty little head for a while longer.” He leant in close to Jessica and she could smell a burning smell coming from his face, which looked even more distorted than before. He touched her chin with a large, calloused hand and Jessica withdrew her head immediately.

“Hey,” said Edward, “I’m the genius, immortal gentleman detective here; she’s just my partner in training. I demand that you act sleazy to me!”

The imposter just smirked and stepped back, ignoring Edward’s words. “We’ll just leave you two tied up in here so that we can make our escape unabated.” He whistled and one of his two men, a lean fellow with shaggy brown hair, holstered his gun and fetched four lengths of rope and two white cloths.

“Edward,” Jessica whispered nervously, “I’ve never been tied up before.”

“Don’t worry,” whispered Edward, “it was bound to happen eventually.”

“Did you seriously just make a pun at a time like this?”

“Jessica, if there’s anything that I’ve learned in my long life, it’s that there is never a bad time for a pun. Besides, it distracted you for a moment, didn’t it?”

Jessica tried not to laugh, but failed. She just shook her head, smiling. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

The man with the rope began tying a knot around Edward’s ankles, Jessica wasn’t a knot expert, but she knew that it looked complicated and probably difficult to escape from.

“Be especially careful with him,” said the imposter, “he’s a wily one.”

“Don’t worry Jessica,” said Edward, “everything’s going to be alright. I’ve gotten out of tighter scrapes than this.”

The man finished tying Edwards’ ankles and then moved on to his wrists. Then once the imposter had checked the strength of the knots and was satisfied, he moved on to Jessica. The ropes were thick and felt tight against her skin, she was freaking out inside but she did her best to keep her breathing under control and to maintain a passive expression.

“This is farewell detectives,” said the imposter. He hauled the real Dr. Churchill to his feet and pointed a gun casually towards his head. “The Curator will be coming along for the ride, just in case you happen to get free and want to try something stupid.”

“Well, seeing as we’re on friendly terms then why don’t you show us your real face? You’ve been hiding behind that morph-mask for too long, it’s starting to malfunction. That’s the trouble with those disposable ones, they only last twenty minutes tops. You should’ve sprung for the more permanent model, would have solved your little Bizarro face problem.”

The imposter just shook his head and said, “Perhaps some other time Detective.”

“Well you can at least tell me why The Black Glove wants the Eternity Stone so badly.”

“You’re a detective, why don’t you figure it out?” He ordered one of his men to pick up the container with the Eternity Stone inside, while he hauled Dr. Churchill towards the door.

“Maybe I just wanted to stall you long enough for me to free myself of my bonds.” Edward raised his hands and grinned, letting the rope which had bound them, fall to the ground. He swiftly bent over and slipped his feet out of the ankle bonds, leaving his shoes and spats along with the rope. Before anyone could react, he dove forward and tackled the blonde haired man into the desk and grabbed his gun and tossed it to Jessica.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she squeaked as she fumbled it into her hands.

“Aim the dangerous end at the bad guys,” said Edward, “and pull the trigger if they come near you. Preferably in the leg.” He grabbed his cane and whacked the container with the Eternity Stone out of the brown haired man’s hands, then scooped it up with his free hand. The brown haired man pulled his gun out and pointed it at Edward. “You want it?” asked Edward. “Catch!” He threw the container at the man, who fumbled with it and dropped his gun in the process. The man tried to recover it but Jessica kicked him in the head with her bound feet. There was a sharp crack when her shoes made contact and then he tumbled backwards and slammed his head on the edge of the desk, dropping the container and letting the Eternity Stone spill out onto the carpet. Then he just lay there, moaning.

Edward picked up the container but then the blonde man, still looking disorientated, made a wild charge for Edward.

“Watch out!” called Jessica.

Edward saw the man and then just took a step backwards, leaving the man to fly past him and flip over the couch, landing in a heap on the other side.

Then there was a clicking sound as the imposter thumbed back the hammer of his gun and shoved it into Dr. Churchill’s head. “You’re quite the escapologist Mr. Graves, but the time for games is over.” Dr. Churchill had sweat pouring down his face and he struggled desperately against the arms of his captor.

“OK, let’s not do anything crazy,” said Edward. “Well, that might be a bit much to ask of you, so we’ll make a deal: You let the Curator go and then you go as crazy as you want in your own private cell. How does that sound?”

“As tempting as that sounds detective, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to pass. Butch, Simmons, get on your feet!” The brown haired man slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his head and using the desk for support. Meanwhile Jessica felt the back of the couch move as the blonde man also rose to his feet. They both moved over to their boss’s side and the blonde haired man picked up the Eternity Stone and placed it in its container. The imposter said, “Adios, Detectives,” then started hauling the Curator towards the door with his men in tow. “Oh and if you’re planning on leaving then you might want to make it soon,” he said. “I’ve heard a nasty rumour that some maniac placed a bomb somewhere in the museum, which may or may not be set to detonate in ten minutes.” With that they were gone and the doors slammed shut behind them.

“Well that complicates things,” said Edward.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth, Edward? Do you think that they’ve really planted a bomb?”

Edward set about freeing Jessica’s ankles. “It’s hard to say, he could be bluffing. But he knows that we can’t take the risk and by the time we replace this bomb, or realise that it doesn’t exist then they’ll be well and truly gone. You can put that thing down now.”

Jessica realised that she was still clutching the gun and quickly tossed it onto the cushion next to her, just as Edward began to work on her wrist ropes. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I could have shot you!”

“Possibly,” said Edward. “But guns don’t tend to work particularly well on me, especially when they’re not loaded.”

“Wait,” said Jessica as she stood, rubbing her wrists and ankles, “you gave me an empty gun?”

“Well, you didn’t expect me to give you a loaded weapon did you? You could have shot me. Besides, I told you that I replace them disgusting and I would never use one myself, much less ask somebody else to. It was purely for appearances only.”

Jessica stood up and stretched, appreciating mobility a whole lot more now. “I think that actually makes me feel a lot better,” she said as she rubbed at the marks on her wrists. “So how are we supposed to replace this bomb?” Jessica said, panicked.

“Firstly, take a breath. Panic leads to bad decisions, we need to remain calm.”

“How am I supposed to remain calm? We could be dead in ten minutes!”

Edward didn’t say a word, he just strode to the door and held it open for Jessica. “Well, ladies first.”

Jessica walked briskly through the door and Edward closed it behind her, then strode up on ahead of her, talking as he went. “If there really is bomb then it would be in a place where it can cause the most damage without being easily detected.” He snapped his fingers. “Of course!”

“What?” said Jessica as she struggled to keep up with Edward.

“Follow me!” he said and then hit first gear, racing down the spiral staircase.

“Wouldn’t it be faster to beam down?” asked Jessica as she bounded down the stairs after him, her voice echoing down the stairwell.

“Can’t risk a technical difficulty,” Edward called back to her. He was moving so fast that all Jessica could see of him was his frock coat flapping about as he rounded the bend.

They emerged out of the dim light of the stairwell and Edward darted for a small orb set into the wall, much like the Curator’s Admino-Gram. The orb floated out from the wall and projected the blue image of a vaguely African looking man in a sharp suit. “Thank you for accessing Info-Orb 38, how may I be of assistance?”

“What war exhibits are close to eating and/or resting areas?” Edward asked frantically.

“Searching, please wait.” The hologram threw his head back for a moment before speaking again. Jessica could feel each second ticking away laboriously and she began to shuffle anxiously from one foot to the other. She looked at all of the innocent people around her, especially all of the children. “The World War Four Exhibit is located conveniently next to the Explorer’s Lounge Cafe and the Lily Pad Playground.” Jessica’s eyes grew large and she looked at Edward with a look of terror.

“Directions?” snapped Edward.

“The exhibit is located in the West Wing, third floor. The fastest option is the ...”

“Thank you,” said Edward, cutting him off. He was already making his way towards the Tele-pads. “It looks like we’re going to be beamed up after all,” he called back to her.

“Don’t these things just go up and down?” asked Jessica.

“Nope, like I said, short range teleport, it can take us to anywhere in the museum.”

Edward’s hand danced over a silver control panel and a voice said, “Welcome to Tele-Pad Twelve...” before it was cut off.

“Sorry,” said Edward, “no time for pleasantries. OK step in.”

Jessica followed Edward onto the circular, white pad and she saw the light on the panel turn red and then everything streaked downwards in a white blur, like someone had suddenly shot her upwards. Remarkably though, she felt no force on her body whatsoever. In about the time it took for Jessica to process what was happening, they had made it to their destination. This floor was a lot different to the previous one and a lot busier too. People were darting about all over the place, entering and exiting exhibits, appearing and disappearing on the Tele-Pads. Directly in front of her was a large, elaborately designed arched doorway which read, World War IV: 2519-2529- We Will Remember Them. Just down the hall Jessica could see the large and very crowded cafe and accompanying playground.

Jessica ran after Edward, who was already entering the war exhibit and flicking his head from side to side, examining displays. “We’ll split up,” said Edward, “you go that way, I’ll go this way.” He looked at his pocket watch, “We’ve got less than three minutes.”

“What should I be looking for?” Jessica asked.

“Something that doesn’t belong,” said Edward. “Look for anything that doesn’t quite fit in with the rest, but not enough so that it draws your immediate attention. Good luck!”

Great! Thought Jessica as she left Edward and looked at some sort of weapons display, I don’t know what any of this stuff is, how am I supposed to recognise what doesn’t fit in?

She pushed her way through the crowd, trying to get as close to each display as possible, earning her the ire of even more people from the future. She scanned replicas of vehicles, collections of letters and cabinets full of equipment but it was hopeless. She looked at her watch; less than two minutes and she had no idea what she was even looking for. She wanted to just sit down and sob. No! She thought, you’re not going to help anyone like that, now focus damn it! She stood still and took a deep breath. She thought about where the easiest place to hide a bomb would be. With other bombs!

She pushed her way towards a display of the different types of explosive used in the war, there were six in total. The information however, listed only five types.

“Edward!” she called. She realised that one of them, and only one, had a blinking green light. In less than five seconds she heard a succession of ‘Ouches’ and ‘Heys’, each followed by a ‘Terribly sorry’ or ‘Excuse me’. Edward squeezed between a large man and woman and then appeared by Jessica’s side, his cane clutched firmly in his hand.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I think I may have found it,” she said, pointing at the grey device with the copper wires and the blinking light.

“Jessica, you’re brilliant!”

Before she could even make a smart response, he’d jumped over the rope partition and set about tinkering with the bomb. People were looking and pointing and Jessica saw a man in security uniform talking into some sort of radio on his shoulder.

“Edward, shouldn’t we get an expert in or something?”

“If you can replace me a bomb technician in the next fifty seconds, then be my guest.” He pulled out a small screwdriver from his coat pocket and opened up a panel, revealing a set of wires and two switches. “Besides, you know what they say: If you can’t replace an expert then settle for a madman.”

“But what if you blow us up?” she said.

“Well we could just wait forty five seconds and let it happen that way. Besides, I almost think that I might know what I’m doing.”

The security guard pushed past Jessica and yelled at Edward, “Excuse me sir, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving your life, now shush!”

“Sir I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the exhibit.”

“He’ll be blown out in a few seconds,” said Jessica.

The guard looked at her quizzically and said, “What are you on about then?”

“We have reason to believe that what my colleague has in his hands, is a bomb and he’s attempting to disarm it, so if you could be ever so kind and just back off for a few seconds, that would be great! Thank you!” Whoa, she had no idea where that had come from but it felt good. The guard just looked at her, stunned and stepped back slowly. Then, as if suddenly remembering his duty, he began speaking rapidly into his radio, mentioning various codes and emergency levels.

Meanwhile, Edward was studying the device in his hand, his brow furrowed, deep in concentration. He licked his lips.

Oh my god, thought Jessica, he can’t do it!

“Edward, how much longer?” she yelled.

He looked up casually, as if he had just become aware of the presence of other people. “Hm? Oh I disarmed it ages ago.”

“Jessica’s face went slack. “What?”

“These models are amazingly user-friendly, just need to flick this little switch here, see?” He indicated one of the two little switches, which was now in the ‘off’ position.

Jessica didn’t know what to say, she was speechless. “Well you could have said that already!” she yelled.

“I just did,” he said.

For the next hour and a half Jessica got to experience one of the other joys of being a Temporal Detective: Bureaucracy. They were shuffled between conference rooms and offices where angry men and women demanded to know who they were, why they couldn’t contact Dr. Churchill and why on Earth had they claimed that there had been a bomb scare. Apparently Dr. Churchill was the only senior member of the museum who knew about the Archaics, but fortunately Edward was listed in the museum’s records and security logs as the detective investigating the theft of the Eternity Stone.

They repeated their recount of events at least half a dozen times, giving an account of how they had come to return the stolen gem, only to discover that an imposter had taken Dr. Churchill’s place, and then kidnapped the real Curator, taken the Stone and left a bomb behind as a distraction.

Edward managed to convince them to leave the investigation in his hands, rather than going to the authorities. He told them that the criminals responsible were members of a very skilled and ruthless organisation, but that he specialised in dealing with such organisations. They gave him twenty-four hours to rescue the Curator and retrieve the Eternity Stone and he assured them that this was all the time that he needed.

They left the museum and returned to Edward’s place where Edward cooked up a feast for lunch. Then they set about reviewing the events of the morning.

“So I guess the case is still open eh?” Jessica was sitting in what she had now designated as her armchair, sipping a cup of tea; the fire raging beside her.

“Hmm well I suppose we are down a Curator now.” Edward was standing by the fireplace, his elbow rested on the mantle as he sipped at his tea. Orange light danced across his face and shadows flickered across his waistcoat.

“Well one Curator and one Eternity Stone,” clarified Jessica.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Edward.

Jessica cocked her head, unsure of what he meant. “Yeah, I saw the bad guys take it, so I’m pretty sure.”

Edward smiled and then finished his tea, leaving the cup and saucer on the mantle. “You can’t always trust what you see,” he said as he picked up his cane from beside him. “You should know Jessica that I plan for everything. Most of the time anyway.” He twisted the top off of the cane and tipped it upside down into the palm of his hand. Jessica could have sworn that she saw a blue glow coming from Edward’s hands clenched fist. He opened it to reveal the Eternity Stone, sitting there and glowing softly as he held it by its soft, silver chain.

“But how did you...?” she thought for a moment and then for another, “You gave him a fake?”

“Precisely, I called on an old acquaintance to craft me a replica Stone; a forgery. If something went awry I wanted to have the real Stone close by. If everything went smoothly then I wanted to see whether the Black Glove made a move for it again. If nothing happened within a few weeks of the Stone’s return then I would have informed the Curator and given him the real Stone back.

Jessica nodded, “You crafty bugger. But what will happen when the Black Glove realise that they’ve been duped?”

Edward slid the Stone back into his cane and screwed the brass top back into place. “Well I suspect that they’ll come looking for the real one, which means that we need to be on high alert. Did you raise those Temporal Defences at your home and workplace, as I instructed you?”

“Yes,” said Jessica, “and I had a go at masking my Timeline too, though I don’t know how successful I was.”

“Hmm,” Edward nodded, “well I can take a look, make sure that everything’s in place. But I don’t think that they’ll be so brazen as to make a direct attack on either of us, more likely they’ll set a trap of some sort.” He was silent a moment, like he was mulling something over in his mind, perhaps trying to figure out how best to speak his mind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well it’s just that,” he paused again, “this case may be a little more dangerous than I had first anticipated. I mean, just look at what happened at the museum, it was a lot to deal with on your first day. I’ll completely understand if you’re having second thoughts about our partnership, though I should say that you performed remarkably well under the circumstances.”

Jessica just smiled. “What, you think that I’m going to return to normality and miss the adventure of a lifetime? You can’t get rid of me that easily, especially not when you just called me your partner. I knew what I was signing up for, remember the bad guys chasing me down the street?”

“Are you sure? Because although I can promise to teach you all that I can and to protect you with every fibre of my being, I still can’t guarantee your safety at all times.”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” she said.

Edward just closed his eyes and nodded. “And I wasn’t calling you my partner, it was just a slip of the tongue.”

“Yeah, a Freudian Slip.”

Edward didn’t say anything and just shook his head.

Silence returned for a few more moments, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire and the clinking of fine china. Jessica finished her tea and placed the cup and saucer on the small table beside her. “Edward, why do you think they want the Stone so desperately, I mean it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through just for a pretty rock.”

Edward looked up from the fireplace and smiled, the orange glow brought a calming warmth to his face. “You know what? I’ve been wondering the exact same thing. I originally thought that this was just a regular heist that fitted The Black Glove’s M.O; hiring a thief to steal a precious artefact and then sell it a few decades or centuries after it was stolen, once its value reached the highest point.” He turned and began to pace around the room so that Jessica had to stand up to keep sight of him. “But after that little stunt at the Museum today, I’m convinced that there’s got to be more than that, they wouldn’t go to that much trouble and risk the treaty that they have with the Temporal Council, just for a bit of jewellery.”

“OK so where do we begin to figure this out? Share your detective secrets oh wise one.”

Edward made a sharp turn on his heels and headed out the doorway, picking up his cane on the way. Jessica got the feeling that he wasn’t coming back, so she picked up her bag and followed him into the hall. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said. “As it happens, I do know a place where all manner of temporal gossip flows through and the owner is a good friend of mine.” He slipped into his coat and pulled his hat off of the hat stand.

“Sounds great,” said Jessica, “where is it?”

Edward looked in the hallway mirror and adjusted his top hat into just the right position, then spent a moment straightening his cravat and wing collar. Finally satisfied with his appearance, he picked up his cane again and said, “Do you like nightclubs?”

“They’re not really my thing,” said Jessica with distaste.

Edward smiled and gently touched her chin then said with a sly wink, “I think that you’ll like this one.”