• Jack Sublime


    Chapter 1


    "I do say, what a shocker."

    "I agree. How did he even do that? The money was there, and then..."

    "If this gets out, we'll be the laughing stock of London."

    "Exactly. So we must keep the press at bay. If they get their hands on this..."

    A knock was suddenly heard at the door. Both men jumped, then relaxed, smoothing their black suits out and stroking their mustache's. After both felt sufficiently groomed, one exclaimed, "Come in", then relaxed into the chair.

    Observe. Two men in black tailcoats, both of heavy build and wearing handlebar mustaches. The small armchairs the rest in seem strained supporting the size of the two men's stomaches, threatening to break if the gentlemen move ever so slightly. They both wear bow ties, one green, one purple. A pince-nez is perched upon one's inflated nose, gleaming in the lamp light, while the other looks about the room with bare beady eyes. Both show themselves to be wealthy London bankers, though at this time, extremely embarrassed one's.

    Upon hearing the welcome, the door opened, revealing a lad of no more than seventeen. Shy, he slowly walks into the wide room, his small form out of place in the large meeting room. As he approaches the two bankers, the beady-eyed one squints, examining the small boy. Suddenly, he mutters, "Your that clerk, aren't you? The one that was on duty when... He... Came?"

    Tentatively, the boy nodded. "Yes, Mr. Terranson."

    "And he, somehow, got by you?" Says the one with the pince-nez.

    "Yes, Mr. Aranson."

    Slowly, both bankers nod. Then, in perfect unison, "How?"

    The clerk coughed, then said, "Sirs, he jumped through the top window."

    "What?!" shouted Mr. Aranson.

    "And onto the chandelier, sirs."

    "Excuse me?!" exclaimed Mr. Terranson.

    "Then drilled a hole in the door before I could stop him."

    "Now, that is the part I least believe." said Mr. Aranson.

    The clerk's expression become puzzled. "Compared to the leaping out the window, and landing on a chandelier?"

    Mr. Aranson nodded. "Yes. It takes around ten minutes to drill out the locks on that door."

    "But, sir, the chandelier fell on top of me."

    There was a small silence, then, "Oh."

    Mr. Terranson, however, still wore an expression of utmost disbelief. "Be reasonable, man. How could someone, even this thief, leap from the highest window onto a glass chandelier, have it land on the only clerk on duty, survive the fall, then drill the locks out in under ten minutes while you lay incapacitated on the floor with a chandelier on top of you? It makes no sense!"

    The clerk head hung low, but he still replied, "But he did."

    Mr. Aranson swore, then turned to his colleague. "Mr. Terranson, we have no choice but to believe what this boy says. And, if the rumors of this thief are true, then it would be quiet possible for this tale to be true."

    Mr. Terranson growled and muttered under his breath for a few seconds, then exclaimed, "I don't care what he can do, how he can do it, or why he does, all I want is to see Jack Sublime behind bars. Tonight!"