CHAPTER 17

Lizzie clung to the rope ladder, dizzyingly high up, and looked down into the snarling face of . . . the Lord Mayor of London!

“You little fool,” the mayor growled. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? They’ve seen my face. They’ve all seen my face!”

“I—I thought you were . . .” Lizzie trailed off. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. This was all wrong. The Phantom couldn’t be the kindly Lord Mayor! Could he?

Lizzie couldn’t speak. The Lord Mayor was grabbing her by the throat, one large hand pressed against her, squeezing, squeezing . . .

“Can’t let any of them live now,” he growled. “They’ve all seen too much. I’m going to burn this whole place to the ground.”

Screams and shouts rang out from down below. Lizzie could hear Fitzy yelling for people to stay calm because the situation was under control, but for once his ringmaster’s authority wasn’t working. A couple of terrified spectators dashed right across the open circus ring and ran for the exit. One gentleman drew a revolver from his coat pocket and took careful aim.

The Lord Mayor’s fingers felt rock-hard, like a marble statue, where they clamped around her neck. Lizzie tried to pry them off, but she couldn’t do it with only one hand, and if she let go with the other, she’d fall.

The mayor lowered himself down by one rung, still keeping his tight grip on her neck. Lizzie had no choice but to follow. That was when she realized the mayor was holding her body between himself and the man with the revolver.

“That’s right,” the mayor hissed. “Keep moving. Nobody will dare take a shot at me if I’ve got you as a shield.”

He needs me alive, Lizzie thought. I’m going to make it through this.

Then the mayor leaned close and whispered, “And when I’ve got out of here, it’s curtains for you, my dear.” He giggled, a strange high-pitched sound, the laugh of a man whose mind had broken into pieces.

The mayor dragged her down another rung, and Lizzie knew he meant it. She was more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. His grip slackened for an instant, long enough for her to jerk her head back and loosen his grasp on her neck. Words burst out of her. “Why are you doing this?”

The Lord Mayor only grunted, like a drunken man woken from sleep.

“It don’t make sense!” Lizzie yelled. “You were so kind to me.” It’s like there’s a crack right through his mind, she thought hastily. If I can keep pounding away at it, he might break. “You gave me food and money,” she said. “And then you nearly killed that bloke in Spitalfields. Why?”

“He got in my way!” the mayor bellowed. His face was bright red now; Lizzie couldn’t tell whether it was from the chase or anger. “People shouldn’t get in my way. I’ve been waiting years to get my revenge — and I won’t let anyone stop me.” He spat the words out in total contempt.

Lizzie knew her only chance was to keep him talking. “Revenge on who? Tell me what you mean —”

“London’s a pit! A pit of dung!” The mayor was raving now. Little white dots flecked his face. “You know who the only moral ones are? It’s not the police, oh no. It’s not the rich folks who hold their leash. They’d step over the likes of me in the street. Maggots. Threw me out. My father too! No, it’s the poor. The starving. The ones who’ve got nothing.”

The mayor lifted his hand and closed it across Lizzie’s throat again. “This is all your fault,” he growled. “If you’d shut your mouth like I told you to, you wouldn’t have forced me to do this. Just like that stupid man in Spitalfields I had to batter half to death. He interrupted me. It was his fault.”

Were those tears in his eyes? Lizzie saw his pupils shrink to tiny dots of sheer madness. She remembered what she’d seen when she’d read his palm. His bitterness over the cruelty he’d suffered as a young man had driven him mad. She looked away, knowing what could happen if you looked an unstable person in the eye. She’d learned that the hard way from Pa.

The mayor’s fingers dug painfully into Lizzie’s flesh. She wanted to beg him not to hurt her any more, but she knew words wouldn’t do any good. She had to let him think he’d won. She let her body go limp, and he took her weight, climbing down another rung.

Through half-open eyes Lizzie watched for something, anything, that could help her to escape. Down at the bottom of the ladder a small crowd had gathered. She recognized Bungo, Joey, Mario, and Fitzy himself. They were looking up at her with grim faces.

“Move aside!” the mayor yelled down to them. “She’s dead if you don’t. Want me to throw her down? Think you can catch her, do you?”

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie saw a shimmering white shape. It was all she could do not to stiffen in excitement and give the game away. It was Collette, racing across to the trapeze with Nora and Erin close behind her.

Quickly they scrambled up to the trapeze. Collette took up position on the bar, hanging from it by her knees. She swung out across the show tent, then swung back and grabbed Nora by the ankles. On the next swing, Nora grabbed Erin by her ankles.

The human chain swayed back and forth, back and forth, until Nora’s outstretched arms could almost reach Lizzie. The mayor hadn’t noticed — he was too busy shouting threats at Fitzy and his men. But no matter how close Erin swung, she wasn’t close enough to grab. There was only one thing to do — Lizzie would have to pull out of the mayor’s grasp and jump.

Lizzie glanced down into the terrifying space below, at all the upturned horrified faces. It was so far to fall! There was only one safe place for her to land — the safety net in the middle of the show tent. If she timed it right and Erin caught her, they could swing back over it and let her go.

If . . . Lizzie thought. It was a chance. Her only chance.

Erin’s pleading face swung back into view. Her arms reached for Lizzie, but Lizzie froze like a terrified animal. She couldn’t move. The mayor was slowly choking the life out of her, and she was just too afraid to fight him.

He’s just like Pa, Lizzie thought. Too strong. You can’t win against his kind. They always break you in the end.

“Come on, Lizzie!” Nora shouted. “You can do this!”

The mayor seemed to snap out of a trance. He suddenly noticed the three girls swinging towards him. A roar of encouragement came from the crowd, cheering Lizzie on.

“No,” the mayor gasped. “Got to finish you off. Now.” His grip tightened around her neck, crushing her windpipe.

Lizzie twisted her head around and bit the mayor. She bit deep and hard like a terrier and kept biting down until her jaw ached and hot, coppery blood filled her mouth. The mayor gave a shrill scream and let go of her throat.

Time now seemed to slow down. Lizzie could see Erin swinging up and toward her. She turned and flung herself off the rope ladder — out into empty space.

The crowd gasped as one.

Lizzie fell, her arms outstretched and grasping at nothing. She felt weightless as an angel. The circus lights rocketed past like shooting stars around her.

In the next second, Erin’s hands clasped hers.

No longer falling but swinging, Lizzie hurtled down past the hundreds of astonished faces, down and down, faster and faster. Too late, she realized her hands were slick with sweat, and she was losing her grip.

The net was up ahead, but Lizzie wasn’t going to reach it. One of her hands broke free. She knew she was going to hit the sawdust-strewn gap and miss the net completely.

Erin tried to snatch her flailing hand back. Their fingers brushed, but Lizzie couldn’t reach. Her arm was in agony, almost ripped out of its socket, but she held on until finally her fingers could no longer grip . . . and she let go.

But instead of the back-breaking impact she’d expected, Lizzie hit something taut and strong that flung her back up again, then caught her and held her in its safe embrace.

The net. I made it to the net! Lizzie realized.

It was the very edge of the net, she saw as she sat up, dazed. She’d been two feet away from certain death. Erin, Nora, and Collette gracefully tumbled down, making the whole net bounce like a trampoline.

Lizzie looked around, shocked to be still alive, as Fitzy and his men rushed up the rope ladder. With his hostage gone, all the mayor could do was cling to the top and wait to be dragged down. There was nothing terrifying about him now. He looked miserable and pathetic, a broken old man.

Bungo flung him over his back and climbed down the ladder. He carried the mayor in front of the crowd like a trophy.

“Here is your Phantom, ladies and gentlemen!” Fitzy shouted triumphantly. “The real villain, unmasked before your very eyes. Take a good look while you can, because he’ll be going away for a long, long time.”