Many thanks to everyone who replied! We're doing well, and The Ominous is just tickety-boo, as Margaret would say. It really makes our day to see that our silly chaotic story can make people smile. Seeing all your names has made us nostalgic too, and we hope you're all doing well and staying safe in these crazy times.

DAY 4 PART 2 – A C of Suspects

Crypto leaned over the fuse, his eyes glinting maniacally. He had managed to construct an explosive out of orange juice and pancake batter, and he was satisfied that the ensuing explosion would send a terrible stink throughout the entire train, thereby suffocating the Ominous with a stench factor of 0.73 percent. Or something like that. Math didn’t matter right now, action did.

“Um, don’t you think maybe a poisoned cup of tea or something would be more appropriate? This seems just a little bit drastic?” asked Luc.

Evil Devin grinned. “No! This is the only way! MWAHAHA!”

“Isn’t it a bit soon for the evil laugh?”

“It is never too soon for an evil laugh!”

Squeak rushed in, carrying an armful of weapons. Upon further examination, they consisted mostly of flyswatters, small china figures, and Mountain Dew. “I found these in the sleeper VIP carriage! Arm yourselves!”

“Did anyone see you?” asked Crypto.

“No, we're safe from detection. For now...

* * *

The Agatha Christie group stumbled into the carriage of curiosities, and they all went silent. The display cases stood just as they had stood before, save for the addition of some purple crime tape, strung up between the cabinets. In the centre of the room stood the empty display case where the ledger had been. “Ah, hello there!” Hans straightened up from drawing a painstaking chalk outline, and stared at the Cbers. One of his eyebrows twitched nervously, and his face was the same colour as the chalk he was holding. His rust-coloured suit cuffs were also covered in chalk.

SopranoTwo jumped forward. “Aha! The look of a guilty man! Who are you? What are you doing here? What is your mission aboard this train?”

Hans frowned. “Erm... The engine?”

Leeli jumped in, “That’s no answer! Answer me this: are you the murderer?”

Hans trembled. “....No?”

SopranoTwo’s eyes flashed. “Aha! There was a question mark at the end of that sentence! How can you not be sure?”

Brookeira pulled SopranoTwo back. “Don’t pester the man! He’s obviously flustered, and you’re not going to get anything helpful out of him in that state!”

Tux glanced around. “We should examine the carriage! Look for clues!”

Shoshannah pulled out a locked diary. “I remember that I saw crumbs on the floor yesterday! Perhaps they’re still there?”

They all ran over to where the tapestry had fallen, and sure enough, there were the crumbs. And there was Miss Pierce, sweeping them up. She looked up pleasantly. “And what might you be doing here? This is a crime scene, you know.”

“We know,” said Vyolette, “We’re here to investigate, examine, observe, and judge! Are you guilty?”

“Guilty of what, specifically?” asked Miss Pierce.

“Murder, of course!” proclaimed Brooklyn Newsie.

“Of our friends!” added Kid.

“Ah, well, I’m definitely not guilty of that. As the secretary to a business tycoon I am unavoidably unable to divulge my exact guilt on many topics, but I am certainly not a murderer of your friends. And even if I was, when asked abruptly of one’s guilt one rarely confesses, you know.”

“Quite right,” said Vyolette, “We’ve been going about this all wrong!”

“If I may offer my services? I want to get to the bottom of this as well.”

“What use could you possibly do?” asked T.S., “You can barely cook, you said so yourself!”

“What’s cooking got to do with anything?” asked elementgirl curiously.

“It’s one of the five core skills necessary to combat the endless forces of darkness eternally encroaching into this world! Doesn’t everybody know that?” T.S. replied.

Ms. Pierce waved her hands vaguely. “I hardly see what that has to do with anything. I can be helpful.”

Leeli frowned with suspicion. “Er... could we have the crumbs back, too? They could be a valuable clue.”

Miss Pierce looked down at the dustpan, as if she had forgotten the crumbs were there. “Oh yes, but of course,” she said smoothly. As she handed the crumbs to Leeli, the Cbers noticed a tattoo on her arm. Three half-circles, or a row of fish scales. Three letter C’s?

The Cbers turned to leave the room, and realized that Hans had disappeared. A slight haze of smoke – or was it chalk dust? - hung in the air.

* * *

Danie’s group entered the VIP Sleeper cabin, tried all the doors and found them locked, and were just about to move on when Chinchilla heard a sound through one of the doors. They all crowded around and listened:

The Ominous’s ominous voice resonated through the wood of the door. “What are you really doing on my vessel, brother?”

There was a sigh and then a thud, like the sound of a large book being dropped onto a table. “I told you, I merely happened to be going in this direction, and your train merely happened to be here! I might not even have taken your train if Ms. Pierce hadn’t gotten us tickets for it. Also, you still owe me for the pasta incident at the soiree, and also the hotel fees from your first little adventure.”

“I don’t believe you! You’re always up to no good!”

“Now look here, if anyone’s to be under suspicion it’s you, dear brother! As I pointed out earlier, the high mortality rates on your cruises are very suspicious. Now if you could please stop interrogating me, I haven’t yet had my breakfast, read the newspaper, and schemed to become even more filthy rich than I already am. I am a creature of habit, as you know.”

“Yes. It’s your habits I’m worried about. Stealing and smuggling and petty thievery. Well, I’ll have you know that no one’s stealing my ship, my engine, or anything within it. Not now, not ever.”

“Yes, yes alright. I do think you’re overreacting. Now if you’ll please let me go, I’m going to drink some orange juice.”

Footsteps approached the door, and the Cbers ran for the next carriage.

* * *

Squeak was very nervous. Nervous about the large contraption now leaning haphazardly against one of the Ballroom walls. Nervous about the maniacal grin of Evil Devin. Nervous about the frantic rewiring of Crypto. The contraption was emitting a worrying number of sparks.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to hurt anyone! I mean, I’m not wild about Danie’s pie-throwing habit, but she’s nice enough. What if a CBer gets hurt!” he said.

Luc poked his head out from where he was hiding behind a curtain. “Yeah I’m not too sure about this side of the AE business. There’s a difference between chaos and murder, you know.”

Notes piped up. “I second that proposition. They have completely different definitions in the dictionary. Would you like a detailed analysis of the difference?”

“NO!” said Wren, from the chandelier above them.

Crypto looked up from his welding. “Don’t worry, it’ll be a contained explosion! And it’s designed only to injure the Ominous, and reveal the identity of the murderer. Who is the Ominous, of course. It can’t possibly blow up and hurt anyone innocent unless someone pulled this lever, the one I’m keeping in my coat pocket.” He patted the pocket.

The AEs all looked nervously at Crypto.

“You’re showing superlative forethought,” said Evil Devin. “Are you alright?”

Crypto glared at him for a moment, and then turned back to his welding, pointedly sending a shower of terrifying and chaotic sparks into the air.

* * *

The Sherlockian CBers trooped into the cabin with all their rooms. “I have some questions to ask the portrait of The Ominous!” declared Danie, marching up to it. “Did you do it? How many people aboard this train have firearms? Are there any secret passages that we should know about? What is everyone’s favourite tea on board? What can you tell us about the murderer? What is your favourite colour? What is your quest? What is the flight speed of a laden swallow?”

The painted smoke obscuring The Ominous’s face shifted slightly. A deep, quiet voice emanated from the painting, “No, eight, none you should know about, the majority prefer mint while a few outliers prefer Earl Grey and one who prefers oil over tea, Ceasar, when speaking to the Romans, said ‘I came, I saw, I conquered’, that’s a personal question that I won’t answer, so is that, and so is that. Is that all?”

St. Owl scribbled furiously. “Could you repeat that?”

“No.”

“...Okay then. Well, thanks for your prompt answers, I guess.”

“Let us continue our investigations elsewhere! To the Luggage carriage!” shouted Kitten.

* * *

Miss Pierce strode briskly through the accordion corridor, the CBers trooping after her.

Suddenly two of the Larrys rushed past them, yelling something incomprehensible about “we’re all gonna die!” and “get out of the way, cthulu crossing!” And then they were gone, before the Cbers could even get a word out to ask what the heck was going on.

The Cbers glanced behind, but there was nothing there. Only a slight feeling of dread, but that seemed normal given the fact that they were looking for a murderer, who could be anyone aboard the train.

Miss Pierce cleared her throat. “Well, er, as I was saying, we know that one of the deceased died by a bullet wound. There is one group aboard that we know have firearms: MURDEROUS. Not to leap to assumptions, because that is what the incompetent police in cheap crime-noir thrillers do, but it does provide you with a lead.”

“You’re awfully helpful...” said Brooklyn Newsie suspiciously.

“I’m a secretary. It’s my job to be helpful.” Miss Pierce adjusted her glasses. She opened the door into the next carriage, and the Cber’s rushed into the wRECk Room, past the misspelled sign that had been their first experience of the train.

A number of old heads swivelled around from their knitting projects.

“Hello dearies, did you enjoy breakfast?” asked Beatrice.

“We have some questions for you!” declared elementgirl. “Do you know who the murderer is?”

“Yeah, you literally said you were MURDEROUS when you dropped in last night!” UniCat added.

“No no no, that stands for Mary's Unreliable Rug-knitting Docile Emporium On Rigorous Overcooking Under Supervision. That’s all it stands for dearie, nothing good, nothing bad. Just like how the initials CCC mightn’t be important or describe a group of young espionage wait-staff, some of which might be tattooed and their grannies wouldn’t approve of! Just like that, we just hang out in a friendly sort of way, and occasionally engage in a bit of light moneylaundering – gotta make sure those bills aren’t wrinkled, you know. The monopoly man likes his money well-pressed, properly ironed... But never mind that! I have some questions for you!” Margaret stood up, and pointed an accusing finger at Miss Pierce. “Did you kill my husband, Miracle Max?”

Beatrice stopped knitting and looked at Margaret. “Beetamax? No, no, Margaret, breakfast was waffles!”

Margaret ignored Beatrice and hobbled menacingly towards Miss Pierce. “Why are you even here? To spy on us?”

All the Cbers gasped in unison.

Miss Pierce frowned. “Why, I wouldn’t even be here if Mr. Gold hadn’t bought tickets.”

* * *

A frog bust, perched atop a pile of dusty suitcases, stared down menacingly at the Sherlockian group. Rose bud read a brass plate at the bottom of the bust: “Julius Geezer. Born now, died the future.”

“Julius Geezer... That’s like Julius Ceasar! Do you think it has anything to do with what The Ominous said about Caesar?” asked Evergreen.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a statue of a frog!” said Chinchilla.

Somebody frowned. “Hmm, I mean it’s possible, but there are a lot of things named after Caesar. It doesn’t have to refer to the historical person. Or the frog.”

Kitten rifled through a pile of stuff. “There’s so much stuff here! Anything could be a clue.”

“Even that giant crate that looks like it’s been pried open from the inside?” asked Leafpool.

The Cbers gathered around the opened crate. It was one of the ones they had brought in for Miss Pierce and Mr. Gold. And inside, it was half full of a mysterious brown powder.

Danie sniffed at it. “It smells like.... chocolate?”

“Well, whatever it is it must be illegal, since they pretended it was just clothing. That’s awfully suspicious.” said St. Owl.

“Great Scott!” said Danie. “I knew that Mr. Gold was up to no good!”

“Yeah, his jeweled smile always creeped me out.” said Rose bud.

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions though. Just because he’s a smuggler doesn’t mean that he’s a murderer.” said Evergreen.

“But what you just said, that’s a conclusion!” countered xp.

“Well, we can’t live in a perpetual state of inconclusion – we have to assume that, at the very least, we all exist, you know.” said Evergeen.

“Uh, guys, I think you should see this.” said Chinchilla, who was looking concernedly at the inside of the crate. They all looked where she pointed. There, scrawled in vaguely runic-looking handwriting in faded sharpie, were the words:
Gandalf wuz heer

“Huh.” said Danie. “Wonder what that means...”

“Hey, didn’t Mr. Gold have a gun last night when, y’know, the murder happened? Maybe he keeps it here with his other stuff, and it might be useful evidence!” said St. Owl.

The Cbers all shrugged, and gradually they dispersed around the room, poking at the mess and picking things up and turning things over. There seemed to be a lot of stuff. orangelemon even found a disgruntled raven, that squawked angrily and flew away. Not to mention the set of dusty medieval armour that looked just the right size for The Ominous.

Leafpool picked up an old coat, with a huge ruff at the collar. “I wonder what it has in its pocketses?” she mumbled, and then began to rifle through the pockets. There seemed to be only mothballs, and then in the last pocket was a neatly folded piece of paper.

At that very moment, Mr. Gold burst dramatically into the room! His jeweled teeth glinted menacingly in the light, and then the CBers blinked and it was just a smile. Mr. Gold looked around frantically and asked, "What are you all doing here?"

Leafpool slipped the piece of paper into her pocket.

And then, suddenly, they heard an explosive booming sound. It could only be described as a bbbbBAAAAAWOOOOOMP!!!!!!!!

The entire train shook, and the Cbers hit the floor in what could only be described as not a breakdance manoeuvre. They grabbed onto whatever they could grab on to, and one of the nearest things available was the huge, still-open crate of brown powder. It turned over and dumped the entirety of its contents onto Evergreen, xp, and Somebody. After a moment the train stopped shaking, and began to chug along the tracks again.

Elsewhere on the train, Brookeira’s voice cried out: “CRYPTO!!! What have you done now?”

END OF DAY 4, PART 2

Top

Top!

Apologies for the delay, one half of us is suffering from Rip Van Winkle Syndrome (otherwise known as 'an inablity to recognize the passage of time') during this epidemic.

As to your comment Leafpool, while Miss Pierce has been known to show up in odd places wearing odd costumes, she'd be rather appalled at being called a colleague of Morgenstern's, even granted that once upon a time they may have worked together in some capacity. While there's rather more confusion involved in the contents of crates than expected, that's not to say Mr Gold doesn't have other beverages to hide...

"People are neither wicked nor noble. They are like chef's salads, good things and bad things mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict." - Lemony Snickett

DAY 4, PART 3 – All The Wrong Answers

It was not, in fact, Crypto’s fault. At least, it was not he who had pulled the lever. But we can’t know who pulled the lever, unless we backtrack, and find out what the AEs were up to all this time...

ooooOOOOOooooo (cue time travel noises)

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the ranch:

The contraption in the Ballroom was nearly done. The shower of sparks had intensified into a white-hot glow that glinted menacingly off the many-faceted diamonds of the chandelier. The long velvet curtains crackled with electricity. Crypto stood in the middle of the huge pile of wires, about to make the last solder. Squeak stood in the farthest corner, face hidden by his hood, hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut. Notes had pulled up a chair, and was making a detailed blueprint of the contraption.

At that moment, the ballroom doors swung open, and two of the Larrys charged into the room and slammed the door behind them.

Evil Devin whirled around to face them. “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing here?”

Suddenly, from the other side of the ballroom, the other two Larrys entered in the exact same fashion, one held a book in one hand, the other held a large camera. It seemed the Larrys were on the same wavelength today.

Luc and Hailey turned to face the newcomers, “What’s going on?”

The Weather Larry ran towards the Larrys’ suitcase, which lay open on the floor. “We have photographs we need to develop! This could be the scoop of the century! We had an exclusive interview with an eldritch being from the depths of time! And now he’s after us, and we might melt in the horror of its gaze!”

“Well, probably. It’s possible its flailing and roaring in tones beyond the human spectrum of hearing was in fact a display of delight that we had taken its picture, instead of rage.” added the other Larry cheerily.

The News Larry, green eyes flashing, also ran towards the suitcase. “I too have pictures to develop, and I would love to see the ones you took of this Cthulu as well! Also, if any of you has extra envelopes, I’ve run out. Granny does so insist on regular correspondence.” He grinned awkwardly.

Evil Devin stepped in front of the suitcase. “Wait just a moment. None of you are going anywhere until you answer our questions! Just because The Ominous is undoubtedly the murderer doesn’t mean that you aren’t also very suspicious. Why, you could be planning a counterrevolution to our AE revolution!”

Evil Devin found himself pushed out of the way, all four Larrys crowding towards the suitcase.

“Now now, let’s not get accusatory here! We’ve all had a stressful day, what with our monstrous adventures this morning and the terrifying prospect of having to develop film, since none of us know how and it’s a very delicate process. We are, after all, radio hosts, and radio is a non-visual medium. I’m not completely sure why we take pictures anyways...”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you take so many photographs!” said Wren.

The Larry turned to the other Larry. “Why do we take so many pictures?”

Larry shrugged. “It was in my job description. In bold letters at the bottom, it said: ‘Take lots of pictures’. I never asked questions.”

“But our job is to ask questions! We interview people!”

“Really? Are you sure? How many questions am I supposed to ask? How much do I get paid per question?”

Another Larry interjected, “Paid? We get paid? I didn’t hear about this!”

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” said the first Larry. He turned back to enter the suitcase, but Crypto stepped in the way, his blowtorch flaring. Larry tried to reach past him to grab the suitcase, but Crypto swung the blowtorch towards him and he jumped back.

“You aren’t going anywhere until you answer our questions! Did you do the murder?” asked Crypto.

Evil Devin added, “Where were you all the other evening?”

Luc jumped in, “How are you associated with The Ominous? Why are you even on this train?”

Hailey added, “How did you get tickets to find and board the train? Also why are you all identical and why are you uncertain about your paychecks? Are you even unionized? You have worker’s rights you know!”

The Larrys looked at each other, bamboozled by the bombardment of questions.

“Well, uh...” said one.

“Er...” said another.

The third Larry opened his mouth, about to say something, and then closed it again.

Then the fourth Larry stepped forward and slowly pushed Crypto’s blowtorch away from his face and patted Crypto on the shoulder. “Alright then, if you want an interrogation then you can have one! We’re not in a rush, and we’re innocent anyways, in regards to your first question. As for your second question, we were playing cards in our recording studio, and at one point I went for a late-night snack, and a while later we heard the scream and came running. As for your third, fourth, and fifth questions, we’ve interviewed The Ominous before and know of him because he’s actually quite newsworthy, despite his dislike of the news, and we’re here because he booked tickets so we could do a feature piece on The Ominous.” He pointed to one of the other Larrys.

“Hey, it wasn’t me! I was too busy getting my camera equipment in order. Wasn’t it you who booked tickets, Larry?” he looked at another Larry.

That Larry shook his head. “I had my nose in a book the entire time. It must have been you who booked them.” He raised his eyebrows at the third Larry, who frowned. “No, it definitely wasn’t me. I know one of you put the tickets on my desk though.” He grinned.

“It doesn’t matter, we were going to do a piece on The Ominous anyways,” said Larry, shrugging.

Crypto frowned. “I’m having a hard time telling which one of you is which. Where were the other three of you last evening?”

One of the Larrys answered, “Hm, I had noticed that. I suspect our encounter with that eldritch being temporarily warped spacetime probabilities, and it was already very probable that we would be so identical that no one could tell us apart, so that probability was tipped just over the balance. Hopefully it wears off soon. Anyways, I was also playing cards, until Larry went for a midnight snack and I remembered that I’d left my umbrella somewhere after getting through the Arboretum, so I went looking for it. I must admit I was rather peeved, I don’t like losing things.”

“I lost the last card game before the other two left, so I went for a short walk to de-stress. I got back just before we heard the scream,” volunteered one of the other Larrys.

The last Larry shrugged. “I had a quick nap after the card game. Larry woke me up when he heard the scream.”

Evil Devin glared at them suspiciously.

“Can we please process our photos now?” asked one of the Larrys.

“Ok fine,” Crypto grumbled, and turned off the blowtorch. The Larrys all rushed past him and hurried into their suitcase studio, one of them bumping into Crypto as they passed. Just as the last Larry was closing the lid, he poked his head back up and said, “So sorry we couldn’t be of more help, but we’re very busy.” Then he ducked back down and slammed the lid of the suitcase closed.

At that moment, three strange and unknown individuals ran into the room. One wore a long robe and held up what looked like a mop, only it glowed from strange runic markings. One of the others held a typewriter under one arm and a half-eaten muffin in the other, and the last stranger carried a huge pile of papers. One of the papers drifted down, and showed what appeared to be a photocopy of a guinea pig, surrounded by crudely drawn red hearts. Everything became confusion.

Gandalf roared, “What is going on?”

A far-off voice could be heard to yell, “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?”

Lily roared back, “That line’s not supposed to be yelled!”

Evil Devin jumped up on top of the suitcase and yelled at everyone, “Alright! Settle down, settle down! Who are you, how have we not seen you on the train before, and what are you doing here?”

The three strangers froze. Gandalf looked at the ground and mumbled something incomprehensible, and the woman with the typewriter stage-whispered to the one with the papers: “Don’t move, Secretary, don’t even blink – if you move, they’ll see you and strike!”

Hailey groaned. “We can see you just fine even when you’re still, which you’re not. I can see you trembling.”

The Secretary stage-whispered back, “I’m pretty certain they can see us, Editor. That one’s looking at me menacingly!”

“Excuse me, my name is Luc and I can both see and hear you perfectly well,” said Luc.

Gandalf straightened up. “Holy guacamole! They’ve seen through our disguise! Run, run you fools!”

The Editor hefted the heavy weight of the typewriter. “Yeah let’s not.”

The Secretary stayed frozen, and stage-whispered, “Then what do we do?”

Gandalf raised his mop-staff. “We fight!” He whirled into the small crowd of AEs, thwacking Notes with the soggy end of his mop.

Notes retreated, “Ow! Ow! You maniac! You’re dripping soapy water all over my notes!”

The Editor let out a blood-curdling scream and charged after Gandalf. “Come along Secretary, we’ll fight our way out! We can’t lose now!”

The Secretary stood still, and stage-whispered back, “Are you sure? When have we ever not lost before?”

As Squeak streaked past, Evil Devin heard him mumble, “I can relate to that...”

Evil Devin felt that he was rapidly losing control of the situation.

Across the room Gandalf and the Editor yelled in unison, “We fight now or we die together!”

Crypto suddenly froze, his hand in his pocket. “Wait! Everybody, stop! The detonator, it’s missing!”

Gandalf froze mid-mop-swing, and the Editor dropped her typewriter with a CLANG!

* * *

In the wRECk Room, the space where Miss Pierce had been a moment before, where Margaret now pointed her not-so-accusing finger, was empty.

“Where’d she go?” asked Unicat.

“How’d she disappear so fast?” said Leeli.

“Can she teleport? Does she have super speed?” asked SopranoTwo.

elementgirl looked up at the ceiling. “Scotty? Can you beam me up too?”

Vyolette frowned. “Let’s think about this logically. Has she ever exhibited an ability of this sort before?”

Tux jumped up. “Yes! That first day when everyone else came on board, wasn’t there almost an explosion, but then Miss Pierce used some crazy lightning-quick reflexes to stop it!”

“She ran away just as Margaret accused her! If that doesn’t say guilt, I don’t know what does!” proclaimed Brokklyn Newsie.

“I’m telling you, she’s a spy!” yelled Margaret.

“Whose a spy?” asked Mary, who entered the room carrying biscuits and a teapot. “Anyways, here’s our tea. Jemima will be back in a moment, she had to clean up a little mess.”

The CBers descended upon the biscuits, and Margaret turned to Mary, saying, “That young person, the one who works for that suspicious Mr. Go-”

BBBBBBAAAAAAAAWOOOOOMMMP!!!!!!!!

The explosion came from the carriage ahead, and the wRECk Room shook crazedly. The Cbers all fell to the floor, and Brookeira and Shoshannah barely avoided falling into the time warp in one corner, which rippled ominously. Thank goodness for the handrails! Beanbags skidded from one side to the other. Somehow, none of the old ladies fell down, and Mary didn’t even drop the teapot. Unfazed by the explosion, Jemima walked briskly into the room, blowing on a cup of tea to cool it down. She grinned. “Well this is exciting, dearies!”

END OF DAY 4, PART 3

 "The reason the earth is round is doubtless because no one has come around to flatten it yet"

[This has been a message from the automated Topping service know as iTop, Thank you for your time.] 

DAY 4, PART 4 – Crime and PUNishment

In the ballroom, all was chaos. Thick green smoke filled the room, and everywhere was the sound of coughing. Half-blinded by smoke, Evil Devin peered at a figure shrouded in smoke. “Was it you? W-why?” he coughed. The silhouette mumbled: “I’m sorry, but you can’t find out.”

* * *

In the Luggage carriage, Leeli gasped. “Evil Devin! What? He’s – he’s gone!”

“Gone? I mean yeah, we’ve been looking for them all day!”

“No, I mean, I just heard his voice in my head, he said: ‘lmzb vdhmzb rhzb llwtzb vdhmzb', and then he told me in no uncertain terms, to remember him well and to continue his plans of world domination and the enslavement of humanity. I- I think those were his last words!” Leeli choked back a sob.

The other Cbers sat sadly, and the carriage was eerily silent.

Mr. Gold looked awkwardly around, and glanced guiltily down at his gun. At that moment, Miss Pierce appeared beside him.

* * *

In the wRECk Room, orangelemon blinked, and began to cry. “Hailey, she’s dead!”

* * *

Suddenly the train screamed, braking dramatically, until it shuddered to a stop at an empty platform. It was not much more than a square of concrete, with a tiny red phone booth and a single road winding away through the sand dunes, marked by crooked telephone poles.

The Ominous rushed into the Luggage carriage and threw the double doors open. “Right, that’s it! Everybody off the train while we figure out what happened! I want to keep all of you where I can see you!”

The Cbers streamed dejectedly out onto the platform.

The Ominous shot Mr. Gold a suspicious glance, and dragged him out by the collar. “That includes you, dear brother.” He deposited him on the platform and then rushed back inside, a sense of foreboding following him like smoke.

At the same time, Hans opened one of the side doors of the wRECk Room carriage, and the old ladies and the other Cbers hurried out.

They surveyed the Ballroom carriage from the outside. The windows had all shattered, and remnants of green smoke still wisped out through the empty window frames. Suddenly came the slow flash of the No-Gore Teleporters, and the Cbers knew for sure that at least one person had died that day.

Crypto was the first to climb out through the window, carrying the Larrys’ briefcase in one hand. Slowly the other AEs climbed out, but the Editor, Secretary, and Gandalf were nowhere to be seen.

Rose bud began a headcount. “We’re missing Evil Devin and Hailey, and I think we all know that they’re gone. But we’re also missing Luc, and elementgirl.”

Squeak raised his hand sadly. “I saw Luc in the explosion for a moment – through the green smoke I saw him turn on a flashlight and shine it on a figure crouching over a body, I think it was the body of Evil Devin, and a moment later Luc screamed and the flashlight went out. I couldn’t see the figure’s face, but something about them seemed familiar. Then again, everyone on this train seems familiar now, we’ve spent so much time on the train already.”

“Okay. I think he must be gone. Luc was Quill’s AE, wasn’t he.” Rose bud bowed her head for a moment, and then sighed and looked around. “Well, has anyone seen elementgirl?”

No one had seen her.

Meanwhile, the Larrys had emerged from their briefcase, looking rather disheveled and shaken. One, possibly Field Reporter Larry but it was still hard to tell, went over to the telephone box.

“We should leave,” said Leeli “it’s too dangerous.”

“Yeah, we can take the road and head home...” suggested xp.

“We can’t leave without elementgirl though!” St. Owl protested.

“Right, if we’re going to leave, we’re going to do it together! We can’t leave elementgirl all alone on the train.” said Leafpool.

“Leave? Why that’s a capital idea!” said one of the Larrys. “Then we can leave this whole unsightly affair behind us.”

“Yes, but I’m still missing my umbrella!” said another Larry, possibly the Weather Larry. “I can’t possibly leave without my umbrella!”

“There’s been an explosion and you’re worried about some umbrella?” asked another Larry, incredulous.

The Larry inside the phone booth poked his head out. “I thought we should call for help, but the line’s dead!”

And indeed, a few telephone poles out along the line, the wire swung lazily in the air, cut cleanly in half. A pair of hedge cutters lay in the sand beneath the pole, beside a very large footprint. A pity the Cbers were already trooping back towards the train to search for elementgirl, and none of them saw this. It’s also quite possible that this isn’t actually a relevant detail at all, and is instead evidence of the local Bigfoot Anarchist Collective in its perpetual warfare with the local telephone companies.

Hans stood between the crowd and the train, surveying all the doors and attempting to keep everyone off the train. No one seemed interested in reboarding except the Cbers and Aes, who approached the door back onto the wRECk Room.

Hans rushed over to them. “Now see here, this is a liability, The Ominous said no one must go on or off the train, he said ‘stay here and guard them until I come back,’ that’s what he said!”

Squeak scratched his ear. “Are you sure he didn’t mean, ‘guard him until we all get on’?”

Hans shook his head. “No no, I’m very sure that’s what he said.”

Vyolette pushed past him. “Well sorry but we have to find our friend. We can’t be responsible if The Ominous is left unguarded in a crisis!”

“Who knows, anyone could try to assassinate him!” said Crypto with a devilish grin.

Hans wrung his hands. “I’m very sure that’s not what he meant! You must stay off the train. Please, it’s for your own safety!”

T.S. replied, “There’s a murderer on the loose! This is exactly why we need to go back on and find elementgirl! As soon as we find her, we’ll leave and go home! We want to be safe as much as you do.” Hans paused, conflicted, and the Cbers and Aes all rushed past him onto the train.

“Oh botheration!” cried Hans, and he rushed inside the train to go find and protect The Ominous.

The old ladies of MURDEROUS sat down in the sand and finally began to drink their tea. Jemima glanced at the train, green smoke still drifting from the wrecked Ballroom’s windows, and said, “What beautiful weather we’re having!”

Meanwhile, the Larrys convened to attempt to find some other way of communication with the outside world. “Carrier pigeons, perhaps?” asked one Larry.

Another Larry added, “Or we could rope down a passing albatross! I think I still remember some slipknots from my youth, if only my hands would stop trembling from the sight of that pure eldritch horror!”

“We could always try the radio, couldn’t we?” asked another Larry.

The last Larry shook his head. “Nah, that’d be unprofessional. Think, what else?”

“I’ll tell you what’s unprofessional, DEATH is unprofessional!” replied one of the Larrys, his face pale, presumably from the shock of the explosion.

Mr. Gold and Miss Pierce surveyed the landscape, and Mr. Gold lit a cigar and placed it between his jewelled teeth. “Well, this is a pretty mess.”

“It doesn’t help matters that The Ominous suspects you of being responsible!” Miss Pierce snapped back.

* * *

The CBers rushed through the train, finally ending up in the Library carriage. “Oh, this is beautiful! I’ve never been here before!” said Tux, gazing up at the walls of books stretching up to a ceiling far higher than possible if this library were truly contained within one of the train carriages. The floor was covered in a thick velvet rug, it’s pile so lush that the Cbers left footprints behind them as they walked down the aisles. Shafts of golden dusty light fell down through the spaces between the shelves, from some far-above skylights. The shelves themselves were old, amber-coloured wood, stacked with a multitude of colourful leather and paper book spines. The shelves stretched out in a labyrinth that could have gone on forever.

Kid commented, “If this is where elementgirl is, maybe she found somewhere safe to be during the explosion, like when I stowed aboard, maybe she’s safe!”

“Quick, look everywhere!” ordered Vyolette.

Rose bud protested, “But elementgirl could be anywhere! This library is huge, it’s beyond all my Great Expectations!”

Brooklyn Newsie nodded. “True, but I think I’d like this library better if it weren’t for the Series of Unfortunate Events that led up to this moment.”

“I fear if we go into those shelves it would be an Odyssey to get back.” muttered Somebody.

“Guys, guys! Be serious here! Like Sirius Black!” St. Owl clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh no. It’s affecting me too. I think this library is cursed! Cursed with puns! We need to get out of here!”

“Where’s the door?” asked SopranoTwo.

“Don’t worry, if we Dumble around a bit we’ll surely find the Door!” said xp, who then winced.

“We should have told Hans that we’d be There and Back Again!” Leafpool said ruefully.

The shelves loomed, and every bad pun they didn’t mean to say hit them in the chest like nails in a coffin.

“Wait, I see something over there!” Shoshannah pointed. The Cbers ran towards the shape on the floor, and gathered around it. A huge book lay open on the floor, a few flecks of blood spattering its pages. Le Morte D’Arthur was written in gold on the front cover, and imprinted in the crushed velvet rug next to it was the distinct shape of a human body.

Danie knelt down and touched the rug. “It’s quite cold, whoever lay here is long gone. The No-Gore teleporters must have done their job for once...”

Chinchilla nodded grimly. “No one else is missing, this must be where elementgirl died.”

St. Owl bent down, and then noticed a slip of lined paper resting beneath the book. The paper was a faded yellow and neat handwriting could be seen upon its surface. A number lay in the top hand corner of the parchment. “Huh, this is curious...”

“Suppose it’s a treasure map!” exclaimed Kid.

“Not unless it’s a very strange kind of treasure... It appears to have everything we’ve done written down.” T.S said, glancing at the paper over St Owls shoulder. “I should know, I’ve been keeping notes!”

St. Owl frowned, and read a section, “’Smith reached into the door of the fridge, it was late and he felt misunderstood. The salad consoled him, and he listened late into the night.’ So is this a page from the logbook?! Where could elementgirl have found it?”

Luc shrugged. “I mean we are in a library... And I guess one of the Larry’s wasn’t lying about their midnight snack!”

“That or the pop singer Sam Smith was on this train!” Everyone stared at Chinchilla. “What? Weirder things have happened!”

St. Owl “Yeah... anyways, there’s more stuff written down, just saying what people were dreaming about that night, and then it’s ripped further down here, right when... when the murder would have happened! Well that’s not helpful...”

Rose bud sighed “Alright, time to get out of here. I wish we could have brought elementgirl safely back with us, but our job now is to leave this murderous place.”

The Cbers nodded sadly, and turned back the way they’d come.

“Hey, I found the door!” Evergreen rattled the handle. “Oh no, it’s Sherlocked!”

“I’ve got it!” Kid ran at the door, but it swung opened before he could reach it. As he skidded and tripped over himself in an attempt to not run the door-opener down, he yelled “Dangit, why does this keep happening!”

Gandalf stared at them, his hair and beard flying in a wind no one else felt, his eyes wide and wild. “Run, you fools!” he yelled.

Kid nodded. “Yeah, that’s what we were planning on doing!”

As he spoke, the train’s whistle blew.

The Cbers charged down the accordion hallway. “Where’s the nearest way out? We need to get off this train!” yelled orangelemon.

Gandalf called after them, “It’s the wRECk Room carriage! Hurry or you won’t make it in time!” but Gandalf’s comment was so breathy that no one heard him as they ran on down the train.

The Cbers ran.

The train began to move.

The Cbers rushed back through the Arboretum, the trees around them shaking as the train picked up speed.

The Cbers hurried through the wreckage of the Ballroom, coughing through the smoke and finally into the wRECk Room. It was full of people who had just gotten back on, Mr. Gold and Miss Pierce and the Larrys and the MURDEROUS, who were still sipping their tea.

Mr. Gold turned to them. “Did you find anything?”

The Cbers ignored him and pushed through the crowd, they were almost to the door and the train wasn’t going too fast yet, Miss Pierce was by the door and she saw the panic on their faces and rushed to open it for them, a bookmark falling out of her pocket as she reached for the handle, and then -

“THIS IS A TRAIN-WIDE ANNOUNCEMENT. PREPARE FOR SUBMERSION. ALL DOORS SEALED. ALL PASSENGERS ARE REQUESTED TO SIT DOWN AND FASTEN SEATBELTS,” blared an unfamiliar voice over the intercom. It was a voice that the Cbers might have recognized if they had been at the front of the train when the MURDEROUS ladies had first arrived. Let us remind you that this story is not about the owner of this voice.

Metal plating, etched with tiny engravings of fish, slammed down over the windows. The door that Miss Pierce was now desperately trying to open let out a hissing noise as it vacuum-sealed to the wall, and the handle retracted into the door.

“Seatbelts? On a train?” asked Margaret. Seatbelts zipped out from the walls and lassoed themselves around everyone’s waists, strapping them to the walls. Except for Miss Pierce, who had ducked, and now looked frantically around the room. Larry Smith fainted. The train rocked, and everyone’s ears popped. A faint splash could be heard through the walls, and then somehow the air felt muffled.

“I think – I think we’ve submerged.” whispered Kitten.

“PLEASE ENJOY OUR FRESH FISH BUFFET, WHICH WILL BE AVAILABLE SOON IN THE MAIN DINING CARRIAGE. DO NOT BE ALARMED, ONCE THE AIR PRESSURE IS STABILIZED THE SEATBELTS WILL RELEASE, PORTHOLES WILL BECOME AVAILABLE FOR VIEWING, AND YOU WILL BE FREE TO RESUME YOUR ACTIVITY. HOWEVER, PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT LEAVING THE TRAIN WILL RESULT IN YOUR DEATH. IF YOU WISH TO SWIM, WE HAVE AN OLYMPIC-SIZED SWIMMING POOL AVAILABLE FOR OUR FIRST-CLASS PASSENGERS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE, AND ENJOY THE RIDE.”

END OF DAY 4, PART 4