"Professor, we haven't the need for your amazing mechanical apparatus. Just the fossil,
When Heirthall made no move to retrieve the fossil, Hansonn nodded for his men to take action. One held Heirthall and the others started tearing apart the lab as Dr. Hansonn stepped forward.
"Gentlemen, I implore you to stop this madness. The fossil is not worth losing this man's work!" Barnum cried out to Hansonn. "You will not receive one red cent, I assure you. This is not the way!"
Hansonn gestured to a large wooden vault on the opposite wall while holding a white handkerchief to his nose and mouth.
Heirthall was straining in the arms of the bigger man as he saw the men tear through the thick wood of the vault and pull the glass-encased, alcohol-protected specimen out. Barnum stood stock-still in the arms of Hansonn's hirelings and watched as the dean stepped up and placed a loving hand over the glass as he saw the remains inside.
"There truly is a God," Hansonn said. "Take it out of here and get it to the ship. We leave on the next tide." He turned to Barnum. "And I assure you, Mr. Barnum, you will pay me what is owed."
"If you harm the professor, you'll get spit from me. This was not the arrangement!"
"We will stop you. The world can never know about what that specimen represents," Heirthall said, straining against the man that held him.
"It's either this fossil or your wife, Professor. You looked shocked that I know about the medical procedure you performed on her several years ago. I know all about her illness, and how you arrested it. So it's either this fossil, or your wife.... Which is it?"
"You scum, you could never harm my wife!"
"Yes, yes, we know your estate is very well guarded, that is why we were forced to come here. We are not barbarians, Professor, the sea angel you have here is quite enough," Hansonn said as he nodded at the man holding Heirthall.
The knife went unseen to the professor's throat and sliced neatly through it.
"I am truly sorry, but I can't have the authorities chasing me forever. After all, I am going to be a very rich man from this day forward," Hansonn said, looking with dead eyes toward Barnum. "Now, spread more oil on the floor; the professor is about to have a horrible laboratory accident."
Barnum screamed in terror at what was happening.
"You bastard, nothing is worth this. I ... will see you hang, sir!"
"Then you will hang right beside me, my American friend. After all, you will be in possession of the most remarkable fossil in the history of the world. So, Mr. P. T. Barnum, I would make sure there were two ropes hanging in the death gallery that day."
Barnum went down to his knees when the evil plan was made clear to him. The world would never believe that the verbose pitchman wasn't involved in this murder. He was doomed to go along.
As he slowly raised his head, he saw the boy hiding under the cot. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Barnum learned more about himself than he ever thought he would. He shook his head, and with spittle coming from his mouth, said he was sorry so that only the boy could see.
Octavian's deep blue eyes went from Barnum to his father's body only inches from the cot. He tried to scream, cry, anything, but nothing came out. He heard the men leaving with their prize, and that was when he saw the dying eyes of his father. Roderick Deveroux, the man now known as Heirthall, was looking at his son, fully aware his death was imminent. The footsteps retreated to the nearby door, and a lighted match was tossed inside just before the doors closed.
The fire was starting to spread fast in the crowded lab and was working toward the highly explosive batteries. Heirthall managed to keep his eyes open even as his blood spread toward his cowering son. Then he tried to raise his hand. He extended his finger, but then his hand fell to the wooden floor and into his own blood. His eyes closed as Octavian reached out with a shaking hand and tried to touch his dying father. Heirthall's eyes opened one last time. Instead of raising his hand to indicate for the boy to run, he allowed his finger to do his talking. He only managed three letters:
Octavian was being told to get the assistance of Hendrickson, the family's American butler. However, the boy only reached out and grasped his father's still hand. Heirthall, eyes closing, tried to flick the boy's hand off his own, but failed. He tried to speak, but blood was the only thing to exit his mouth when he opened it.