A/N:

Lockwood & Co won't be renewing for season 2. It's upsetting because this series have so much potential, those over hyped shows are always renewed & rare gems like these aren't. Sigh!

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When Anthony Lockwood and Valerie Klein returned, they found George Karim tied up and Annabel Ward's ring missing from the box. Little did the boys know, that Annabel's ring wasn't missing, instead it was with Valerie she'd taken the pendant with her to communicate with the ghost once again and what the thief had lifted wasn't the real ring, it was a fake. When the boys found out the truth they were in utter disbelief, that the girl has outsmarted them again.

Now, George put the ring inside a silver glass box so that they could safely examine it. They found out that the intruder was after the ring because of the hallmarks. H 22 115.

"Maybe H for Hugo?" Valerie flipped through the old novel they'd borrowed from the library.

"That's what I thought. But who was the other big 'H' in Annabel's life?" George turned to her adjusting his glasses, "act 2 scene 2."

"Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love." She thumbed through the pages, "this is it. The hallmark's a love letter."

"This is the most romantic thing ever but turned into a tragedy...I guess that's why Annabel wanted me to take the ring. It proves she and Hugo were together. That has to be enough to put him away. Right?"

"You always put romance where there shouldn't be Val," Anthony gazed at the girl, who's kinda obsessed with dark romance or he thought so. "And no, it doesn't prove anything. So they were together. But that isn't evidence he murdered her."

Valerie let out a deep sigh, Anthony maybe right.

"The ring is going in the safe and I'm keeping hold of the key because, well, you can't be trusted."

"But it's her source." She pouted not wanting to let the ring slip her side.

"Which you stole illegally."

"If I haven't, the thief would've...so I've done you a favour by stealing it." She stated the obvious.

"So now stealing is a thing for you?"

"Hmm, maybe I'll steal something else from you Lockwood." A light smirk passed her beautiful face.

Anthony could feel his cheeks heating up, if the girl keeps staring at him with her doe eyes. He'd just give up everything. So he was thankful when George muttered. "If you guys are done with the flirting, the final ruling of Sheen Road just came in. If we don't get our shit together now, this agency is done."

Valerie turned her attention to the nerd, who was sour. "Casper you've my undivided attention go ahead."

George cleared his throat as he handed her the notice. Her brows furrowed, "mandatory indefinite oversight...what does that mean?"

He leaned forward. "It means we still owe 60 grand but now we can't do anything without adult supervision."

Valerie couldn't believe their ill luck, when she thought everything will be just fine, this happens. The universe hates her. "This must be a joke," her expression turned grim quickly.

"It's a chokehold but I've got a plan," Anthony crossed his arms. "We're going to see a man about a ghost."

The trio were inside the Fairfax Iron skyscraper. "So your big radical plan is a job at fairfax iron, for work we can't legally do?" George asked as they rode the elevator.

"George. This negativity, it's why I don't tell you things in advance." Anthony told him as he handed Valerie the paper that read: agents required for unusual supernatural investigation. Money commensurate with danger.

"I'm guessing this danger better be at least 60 grand's worth." She passed the article to George, who had the same questionable expression as her.

"When we get up there, we need to be at our absolute best. Totally professional. So, I'll do the talking." Anthony told them.

They got out on the 20th floor, straight into the office of John Fairfax.

"John Fairfax doesn't need us. He's famous. He's rich. He built Fairfax iron." George said impressively as they entered the immaculate office room. Everything in it screamed luxury and power and the view, the view was priceless. Valerie found herself drawn to the large windows that overlooked the city, she loves the solitude of the rural life but she wouldn't mind spending sometime in a place like this—with a view like that.

"He built this whole building." Anthony added, he could clearly see how excited the girl is. She'd totally forgotten about their mission or the 60 grand. She was just enjoying the view, like a normal teenager. It brought a sudden smile to his face.

A tall man in his 70's with grey beard and hair, dressed up in a nice suit appeared before them. He was John Fairfax.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. Anthony Lockwood." The boy introduced. "George Karim and Valerie Klein we are Lockwood & Co."

"Ah, of course. The infamous." The man said.

"I have to say we didn't expect to be dealing with you personally when we answered your ad." Anthony stated the obvious.

"It's a delicate situation. Best handled discreetly. I've decided to let go of a few properties, including Combe Carey Hall in Berkshire. Nice enough place, but it has a rather stubborn collection of visitors. Something I've worked very hard to keep out of the papers and about which my prospective buyers know nothing."

As soon as Joh Fairfax appeared, Valerie was drawn back to the reality of their situation, "so you need it made safe before the buyer visits."

"Exactly. And I cannot risk damage, so there can be no takers or explosives. It's a dangerous job, to be done quickly and under the radar. I'm getting quotes from every significant outfit in London. So, to be frank, the only way an agency of your stature could get it is by underbidding."

"Our service is just as good as our larger competitors, and we don't need to chase down cut rate jobs." Anthony said Charmingly. If he gets any more charming, men and women may start lying down in the street for the privilege of being stepped by Anthony Lockwood.

"You lie like a politician but I started out in casinos, Mr. Lockwood. I can always spit a bluff."

"Do you think you'll get discretion from Fittes and Rotwell?" Valerie looked at the man, "every decision they make gets debated by committee."

"And you need something more nimble. Like us. A small independent group." George backed her up.

Anthony couldn't be more proud of his colleagues, they'd learned from the best after all. "We are the only agency who can do this job the way you need it doing."

"Nice pitch. But I work very closely with DEPRAC, and I don't think this is a job they'll let you do." The man leaned back.

Anthony leaned forward brows raised. "That's why it's probably best they don't hear about it."

John Fairfax studied them for a moment and exhaled. "Rotwell just quoted me 90 grand. I won't pay you a penny more than the fine you owe DEPRAC. What is it? 40? 50?"

"60, actually. You're obviously a busy man, sir John, so let's keep it simple. You pay our fine and we will fix your house. So, do we have a deal?" Anthony finally asked the million dollar question.

***

They were back at 35 Portland Row. "This job is gonna kill us." George said as he went through the articles, scattered on the dinning table.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Anthony said entering the kitchen holding a paper bag, the boy left Valerie and George to gather intelligence for the job ahead. While he did a little grocery shopping. He was surprised to see the ample amounts of articles the two have collected in an hour. "Wow. This all on Combe Carey Hall?"

"Yeah, everything Fairfax forgot to mention. It's not just a country house. It used to be a satanic priory of medieval devil worshipers." Dealing with Visitors is something but dealing with ghosts of devil worshippers? That's something Valerie Klein wanted to stay far away from but look where is she now. Helpless and desperate just ready to do anything.

"Oh, good evil monks." Anthony was humorous as he filled up the fridge with beers. "At least we know what we'll be facing. Anyone fancy a beer?"

George lifted his head up. "No, actually, we have no idea. It killed loads including some at a party 30 years ago, but those deaths aren't blamed on the monks. No, they were blamed on a screaming staircase or a red room, whatever they are."

"Without flares, this job is suicide. Look! We're not the first ones to try, either." Valerie said pointing at an article. Hoping, praying, screaming that they'll not meet the same fate as the teams before them. "At the start of the problem, an elite Fittes team was sent in. There was only one survivor. And one, Samaran Pandey, is still unaccounted for. Fairfax kept all this from us."

"No, he got himself a good deal." Anthony said sipping the beer, even though this job was sketchy, he needed the money—they needed the money so he needed to keep his cool. He couldn't falter. "And so did we. This is a job that's finally big enough for our talents. But we're a team, so if either of you have another option on how to keep this agency afloat, then I'm all ears."

Valerie and George looked at Anthony questionably, the boy's ego was too big for his head. He responded with a smug smirk.

13. 05. 2023