main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 33 The Scientist In the early morning light that bounced off the reflecting windows to create shadows, the rows of square buildings Lisdon were silent black sentinels watching the only two people on the sidewalk. Like the rest of the Old Quarter, these houses were old style elegant with flat roofs and ornate railing. But since it was the holiday, no one had shoveled the sidewalks which were covered with heaps of snow. It was also snowing too and there was no doubt that those heaps would grow even bigger by the afternoon. Verity wished that she was still in bed at this time in the morning. She slanted a look over at Gammell who had his coat collar pulled up and his yarn cap tucked over his ears. What was he thinking? “You like being a morning person, don’t you?” she said. “And you object to that?” Their breaths created white clouds of vapor in front of their mouths. To Verity, this seemed like the longest block she had walked so far. Her fingers and toes were beginning to feel the cold. “I don’t necessarily object, but it would be better if I had an incentive to come out in this freezing weather.” “What sort of incentive were you thinking about?” “I don’t know. It’s sort of hard to think out here in the cold. Why don’t I tell you when I do come up with one?” “I hope it’ll be one I won’t mind providing.” “Oh, I’m not sure about that. But it will definitely be one that I would like getting.” He laughed and she found herself grinning. “I think I see where your thoughts are heading.” “Really? What do you think I’m thinking?” He told her. She was glad that the scarf that she had tossed on that morning was covering her flaming cheeks. “You enjoy embarrassing me, don’t you?” “Well, it’s not as if there’s anyone else about.” “I certainly hope not.” She turned her head to look at the houses. “You know, if the owners of the Old Quarter weren’t so stubborn about renovations, this area of town could really be beautiful.” “You’re right. But it’s difficult to convince generations of entrenched families to change their ways.” “Your family moved out.” “We’re a different case.” The house that they had been looking for looked a bit shabbier than its neighbors. Its dark green shutters hung at a crooked angle next to the windows. The paint on the door was chipped and the doorknocker was tarnished beyond recognition. But at least there was an electric bell at the side of the door frame. Gammell and Verity stood on the doorstep waiting for someone to answer the door. “This person, what was his name again?” she asked. “Tiberius Verne. He’s supposed to be Samuel Verne’s cousin.” “Does he know that he’s supposed to meet you today at this hour?” “I’m positive.” She tucked her hands further into her coat. The falling snow was still whipping into her already numb face. “Maybe he forgot and overslept. I wouldn’t blame him.” “I have a feeling that he didn’t sleep in today,” said Gammell. The door opened showing an aging and wrinkled face against a mass of gray hair pulled back ruthlessly in a bun. The old woman was wearing a dark working dress and she glared at them. “Yes?” “I’m Nathaniel Gammell and this is my assistant Verity Tage. We had an appointment with Mr. Verne this morning.” “That’s Dr. Verne, to you,” sniffed the old woman. “Come in before we lose all the heat. It’s expensive heating during the winter you know.” They stepped inside. The interior wasn’t much warmer, but at least the winter wind was left outside. The old woman, probably the housekeeper, didn’t even ask them for their coats. The interior was in as much disrepair as the exterior. The foyer was wallpapered in a fading beige and brown pattern and there was even some rips where the wall met the ceiling or where the wall met the floor. A couple of ugly floor lamps lit the interior. “Dr. Verne is downstairs in his workroom,” said the old woman pointing to a closed door in the hallway. “He’s expecting you.” “Thank you,” said Gammell. The housekeeper crossed her arms as she watched them open the door and climb down the stairs to the basement. Verity felt has if she had hot coals for eyes. And suspicious coals at that. She hoped that Gammell didn’t plan on staying too long. She had the feeling that if they neared lunch time, the housekeeper might be forced to serve them lunch and there was no telling what the sour old woman would put in their food. The basement, or what would have been a normal basement, had been converted into a laboratory. The walls were mostly stripped of anything that would have taken up extra space such as decorative plaster or woodwork and instead the walls were lined with water and gas pipes. The main floor was arranged with lab benches which were flat dark tables with cabinets below and shelves attached to the top. Various glass apparatuses were hooked up to water and gas lines and filled with strange colored liquids. There was even a hot plate hooked up with a Bunsen burner and a beaker of water was boiling. Along the left wall was a shelf filled with bottles of chemicals and a noisy fume hood. The right wall also had shelving, but these shelves were filled with cages. Half of them were empty. The other half held mice and rats of various colors, their red beady eyes peering nervously out onto the lab—some of them so agitated that they were chewing on the metal bars or running in crazed circles in their tiny cages. Next to that shelf was a small desk littered with papers and textbooks. “Dr. Verne?” Gammell called out. “Eh?” A figure in a white lab coat, green latex gloves, and goggles peered from behind one of the bench shelves. In each hand, he was holding two test tubes. “Who is it?” “Nathaniel Gammell.” “Ah, Mr. Gammell. Is it time for our meeting already? I always lose track of time. Pardon me while I finish up.” Tiberius Verne poured the clear contents of one tube into the other tube which also contained a clear solution. The liquid immediately turned bright blue. He sighed loudly in satisfaction and placed the two tubes on a nearby tube rack. He wrote something quickly on a notepad. “So,” said Verne, “did you have trouble finding the house?” He snapped his gloves loudly as he pulled them off and dropped them into a nearby wastebasket. He pulled up his goggles revealing keen dark eyes in older lined face. He was perhaps sixty or seventy but still spry and energetic. He pulled over two folding chairs before dropping into his own seat at his desk. “We found it easily enough,” said Gammell. “This is my assistant, Verity Tage.” She shook the scientist’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Tage,” he said. “Mr. Gammell mentioned that you would be along also.” She nodded. “And you too, Dr. Verne.” “So much to do,” Tiberius Verne sighed. “Too much work. Sometimes I think about hiring a technician to help me out, you know? But then I’ll have to waste some time training him and you know Janice? You met my housekeeper, Janice, right?” They nodded. “Janice is a bit too loyal, I’m afraid. She thinks everyone is trying to spy on my work, trying to figure out what I’m doing to scoop me. But I’m old and a lot of people think this is just a hobby I’m doing so what does she know? No offense to you, Ms. Tage, but women tend to be a bit stubborn and tunnel-visioned, if you know what I mean. She wouldn’t even listen to me when I say no one is out to do harm.” “She’s right in a way,” said Gammell. “Not everyone is benevolent.” “Well, there is that,” said the old scientist reluctantly. “Anyhow, you were here to talk about Samuel?” “Yes, particularly how he partitioned his estate. We heard that he willed part of it to you.” Tiberius Verne sighed. “Useless too. It was all junk as far as I’m concerned and I’m an old man myself. What use is it to give me something when I’m already thinking about how to disperse my own things? Samuel was a fanatical collector. He had to buy an entire warehouse in the business district to hold his stuff.” “We also heard that he willed a particular object that he used to own to you.” “Oh?” He eyed the two of them speculatively. “Exactly why are you looking for Samuel’s former possessions?” “I’m a consultant to one of the antique dealers in the city. We’re on a job to help track it down,” said Gammell. “You should tell your client that all Samuel collected was junk. I only hired an antique dealer myself to help survey what was valuable and what was not. To sell it off, you know. I don’t want to keep all that junk.” “My client was looking for an antique mirror of unusual design. It is supposed to be titanium.” “You’re looking for that one, are you?” The scientist folded his hands across his abdomen. “I don’t have it anymore.” “Did you sell it?” asked Verity. “In a manner,” said Verne. “That mirror was quite unusual. I noticed right away that it had strange optical properties. I called in my friend, Miram Greene who has a hobby in optics. I think he studied physics on the side when he had been in college and helped design a better microscope for laboratory use. Anyways, we looked at it up and down and couldn’t figure out at the time what sort of material it was except that it did resemble polished titanium to an extent. But titanium doesn’t have selective reflective properties.” “You gave the mirror to this friend of yours?” said Gammell. His features were carefully schooled not to show any recognition at the name. “Actually, no. Miram suggested to have the mirror appraised by an antiques dealer first and so I called up Colbrin. I didn’t really like that mirror anyways so I had it removed by Colbrin and told him to transfer whatever he got for it to my account. At the time, I also thought it was a good idea to also hire him to appraise the rest of the things I got from Samuel.” “But your friend specialized in optics. Didn’t he want to buy it from you because of its curious properties?” “If he did buy it, he probably bought it off from Colbrin. By the time the mirror left this house, I lost interest in it. I only remembered it again when you mentioned it today.”