Circus (Insanity, #3)

I look at the Pillar for the solution, and I hate myself for not solving it myself. I want to save this homeless man from exploding any minute now.

“Just give me a minute.” The Pillar raises a finger. “I know the solution to this.”

“There’s no time,” the homeless man stutters. “The Hatter told me a girl named Mary Ann might know the answer.”

The Pillar and I exchange worried looks. Who the heck is Mary Ann?

“Forget about this Mary Ann,” the Pillar tells the man. “We’re going to get it solved and save your sorry life.”

“Please...” the man says, but then he can’t say more.

We’re too late. Something splashes against the man’s chest. At first, I don’t understand what it is. But when the Pillar holds the man tight and helps him fall to the ground, I realize what it is.

The homeless man was shot, probably with a silencer.





Chapter 9

9:36 a.m.



Panicked, I kneel down next to the Pillar, who grits his teeth, pulling his hands away from the corpse. He stands up and stares at the wandering crowd. He flashes fake smiles and persuades them the man has a fainting condition, and that everything is going to be all right once they give him his medicine. The Pillar is worried about the people panicking.

Surprisingly, no one even cares about the homeless guy sprawled in red on the ground.

I refuse to believe the man is dead that soon. There must be a way to save him. I pull my phone out to call an ambulance.

“Stop this,” the Pillar says. “I told you, these Wonderland Wars are beyond police and ambulances’ help. We don’t want them to interfere.”

“We were riding along with Inspector Dormouse a few minutes ago. I thought we might work hand in hand to save people’s lives by now.”

“That was just a trick so we could enter the scene of the crime,” the Pillar says. “Why do you even care about a homeless man you don’t know?”

“What did you just say?” I snap back. “What’s wrong with you? One minute you want us to save lives and then you don’t care if a man dies.”

“There are bigger stakes at hand.” The Pillar looks frustrated, his eyes looking around for whoever executed that shot. “This sentimental heart of yours will blow everything.”

The emergency number picks up, and a woman asks me how she can help. I begin telling her a man is shot at Piccadilly Circus and that we need an ambulance.

“This isn’t making any sense,” the Pillar says to himself next to me. “Why shoot a man when he is wired with dynamite?”

The Pillar’s questioning alerts me after I hang up with the woman, who promised me an ambulance will arrive in a few minutes.

“You’re right,” I say. “It doesn’t make sense.”

The Pillar turns and faces me, his eyes looking over my shoulder, wide open. “Unless this is a joke.” He points at someone behind me.

I turn around. The homeless man is on his feet, staring at us.





Chapter 10

Radcliffe Lunatic Asylum



Dr. Tom Truckle was gorging on his favorite mock turtle soup when the phone rang.

“Director of the Radcliffe Lunatic Asylum.” He leaned back in his chair, trying to sound authoritative as possible.

“The Queen of England sent us a patient,” Waltraud said. She sounded terrified.

“The Queen of who?” He dropped his spoon.

“England! Your queen, doctor,” Waltraud said. “My queen, too.”

“A patient?” He wasn’t quite comprehending the conversation. “Send him in immediately!”

“But of course.”

“Waltraud! Wait!” Tom stood up. “Send the patient to the VIP ward with the best room possible.”

“I thought so.”

“And Waltraud, is it a male or a female?”

Waltraud waited for a while. “It’s hard to tell, doctor.”

“What nonsense is that, Waltraud?”

“I would ask the patient, but I don’t think this patient talks.”

“It’s mute?”

“Mute is someone who once talked—or is supposed to talk.”

“You’re really not making any sense, Waltraud.” Tom sighed, fed up with his employee’s stupidity. “What is the patient’s problem?”

“It refuses to get its head chopped off,” Waltraud said. “The Queen demands the patient to obey her.”

Dr. Tom pushed the button on his desk to check on the surveillance cameras. He spotted Waltraud standing in the hall next to a flamingo in a cage.

Previously, he’d always thought it was only the Pillar and Alice who wanted to make fun of him. Now the Queen of England, too?

He swallowed a handful of his pills, without water, and said, “A royal flamingo.” He hissed to himself. “Waltraud. Tell the Queen I will take care of the situation myself.”

“I will.” Waltraud waved at the camera. “And she left you an invitation, too, doctor.”

“Invitation? From the Queen herself. What’s it about?”

“It says an invitation to ‘The Event’ on the envelope.”

“Bring it to me immediately.”





Chapter 11

9:39 a.m.



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