"I'll call the police," Mr. Poe said, "and they'll capture Count Olaf in no time at all," but the Baudelaires knew that this statement was as ersatz as Gunther's improper English. They knew that Olaf was far too clever to be captured by the police, and I'm sorry to say that by the time two detectives found the big black pickup truck, abandoned outside St. Carl's Cathedral with the motor still running, Olaf had already transferred the Quagmires from the red herring to a shiny black instrument case, which he told the bus driver was a tuba he was bringing to his aunt. The three siblings watched Mr. Poe scurry back into Veblen Hall to ask members of the in crowd where he could find a phone booth, and they knew that the banker was not going to be of any help.
"I think Mr. Poe will be a great deal of help," Jerome said, as he walked out of Veblen Hall and sat down on the steps to try to comfort the children. "He's going to call the police, and give them a description of Olaf."
"But Olaf is always in disguise," Violet said miserably, wiping her eyes. "You never know what he'll look like until you see him."
"Well, I'm going to make sure you never see him again," Jerome promised. "Esmé may have left---and I'm not going to argue with her--but I'm still your guardian, and I'm going to take you far, far away from here, so far away that you'll forget all about Count Olaf and the Quagmires and everything else."
"Forget about Olaf?" Klaus asked. "How can we forget about him? We'll never forget his treachery, no matter where we live."
"And we'll never forget the Quagmires, either," Violet said. "I don't want to forget about them. We have to figure out where he's taking our friends, and how to rescue them."
"Tercul!" Sunny said, which meant something along the lines of "And we don't want to forget about everything else, either-like the underground hallway that led to our ruined mansion, and the real meaning of V.F.D.!"
"My sister is right," Klaus said. "We have to track down Olaf and learn all the secrets he's keeping from us."
"We're not going to track down Olaf," Jerome said, shuddering at the thought. "We'll be lucky if he doesn't track us down. As your guardian, I cannot allow you to try to find such a dangerous man. Wouldn't you rather live safely with me?"
"Yes," Violet admitted, "but our friends are in grave danger. We must go and rescue them."
"Well, I don't want to argue," Jerome said. "If you've made up your mind, then you've made up your mind. I'll tell Mr. Poe to find you another guardian."
"You mean you won't help us?" Klaus asked.
Jerome sighed, and kissed each Baudelaire on the forehead. "You children are very dear to me," he said, "but I don't have your courage. Your mother always said I wasn't brave enough, and I guess she was right. Good luck, Baudelaires. I think you will need it."
The children watched in amazement as Jerome walked away, not even looking back at the three orphans he was leaving behind. They found their eyes brimming with tears once more as they watched him disappear from sight. They would never see the Squalor penthouse again, or spend another night in their bedrooms, or spend even a moment in their oversized pinstripe suits. Though he was not as dastardly as Esmé or Count Olaf or the hook-handed man, Jerome was still an ersatz guardian, because a real guardian is supposed to provide a home, with a place to sleep and something to wear, and all Jerome had given them in the end was "Good luck." Jerome reached the end of the block and turned left, and the Baudelaires were once again alone in the world.
Violet sighed, and stared down the street in the direction Olaf had escaped. "I hope my inventing skills don't fail me," she said, "because we're going to need more than good luck to rescue the Quagmire triplets."
Klaus sighed, and stared down the street in the direction of the ashy remains of their first home. "I hope my research skills don't fail me," he said, "because we're going to need more than good luck to solve the mystery of the hallway and the Baudelaire mansion."
Sunny sighed, and watched as a lone doily blew down the stairs. "Bite," she said, and she meant that she hoped her teeth wouldn't fail her, because they'd need more than good luck to discover what V.F.D. really stood for.
The Baudelaires looked at one another with faint smiles. They were smiling because they didn't think Violet's inventing skills would fail, any more than Klaus's research skills would fail or Sunny's teeth would fail. But the children also knew that they wouldn't fail each other, as Jerome had failed them and as Mr. Poe was failing them now, as he dialed the wrong number and was talking to a Vietnamese restaurant instead of the police. No matter how many misfortunes had befallen them and no matter how many ersatz things they would encounter in the future, the Baudelaire orphans knew they could rely on each other for the rest of their lives, and this, at least, felt like the one thing in the world that was true.