main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 34 Execution “Good luck trying to track it down,” said Tiberius Verne as he shook their hands again and showed them out of the laboratory. Back out in the foyer, the housekeeper was nowhere to be found, but as they were about to step toward the door, the doorbell rang. Verity’s skin prickled in alarm. “Drat,” muttered Verne, “Where is Janice when you need her?” “Our car is actually closer to the back,” said Verity. “Do you have a back door.” “Yeah, sure. Just go down here and through the kitchen. Can’t miss it.” Gammell slanted her an inquiring look, but didn’t protest when she pulled him insistently toward the back of the house. The foyer led into a dining room which directly fed into the kitchen. Everything seemed dusty and disused. What was the use of a housekeeper if everything couldn’t be kept clean? As Verity reached the back door and tugged it open letting in a stream of cold air, they heard voices back in the foyer. “Ah, I didn’t know you would be dropping by today. In fact, I was just talking about you two to some of my visitors. Maybe you could meet them if their not gone already,” said Verne. “Hello?” As the old scientist stepped into the kitchen, they had already shut the back door. “Drat. They are already gone.” “What was that all about?” said Gammell. Verity shook her head. “There was something about those other visitors. Something’s not right.” They rounded into the little alleyway between the houses, but once they were in sight of street side, Verity abruptly stopped and Gammell nearly crashed into her. “What is it now?” “Shh.” A group of cowled figures in dark robes were gathered at the doorstep of Tiberius Verne’s house. They were standing in a loose, strange formation. The door to the house opened and two more hooded figures, one much taller than the other, were hauling out the struggling form of the scientist. “Get your hands off me, you traitorous thugs!” shouted Verne. “What have I ever done to you?” He tried flailing his arms, but the figures held him fast. Another figure suddenly came flying out of the house, wailing like a banshee. It was the housekeeper. She pounded her ineffective fists on the smaller hooded figure holding the scientist, but he only slapped her hard with the back of his free hand. The housekeeper landed in the snow, sobbing and raging. She got up again for another attack, but the smaller figure made a strange gesture and the other figures standing around took hold of the screaming and cursing old woman. In the falling snow, they saw one of the figures detaching from the group to take hold of Tiberius Verne’s head. At first, it looked as if he was performing a strange blessing ritual on the old scientist, but then there was a quick twisting motion and a sickening crack. Verne’s body went completely limp and the old woman screamed and wailed even louder on the silent street, her crackling voice echoing eerily in the cold air. None of the neighbors deigned to look outside to see what was happening. The figure who had broken Verne’s neck quickly strolled toward the housekeeper and slapped her hard into a whimper. This time he did not even bother with the ritual. There was another quick movement and a snap in the stillness. Two more figures detached from the group holding out large brown cloth bags. The bodies were shoved into these and two people each carried each body, stretched out from shoulder to shoulder as if they were carrying so much lumber. The cowled figures then proceeded down the street, in the opposite direction to where Gammell and Verity were originally headed. Verity had chewed her bottom lip to stop from crying out in shock. Her heart was still pounding wildly and she heard her blood hammering in her ears. Gammell took her arm and pulled her back. “This way,” he whispered. They used the connected backyards of the houses to head down the block. They sprinted nervously from yard to yard, all of them filled already with a foot or two with snow. But it was still snowing and even as they made footprints across the white, they were already being filled back in until they were no more than slight imperfections on the blanket of snow. It was also to their luck that none of the people who lived on the street looked out of their windows to observe them. Or perhaps they couldn’t—it was still early morning and perhaps they were all still asleep. Once they reached the alleyway where Gammell parked his small black compact car and got inside, Verity breathed hard, shaking. Gammell locked the doors, his head laid back on his seat trying to calm his own accelerated breathing. “We could have been…” “Try not to think too hard about it,” he advised. “It will probably only make you feel worse.” She felt her breathing eventually slow down. He had still not started the car. “Who were they?” She hugged her arms to herself, her face feeling numb from the cold. Her eyes felt full but dry. “They could have simply been common criminals or a cult of some sort,” he said. “But somehow I doubt it. Why target Tiberius Verne? I don’t think that this is so random, especially since we just finished visiting with him.” “I read some patient reports in the archive some weeks before,” she said. “These reports were, what, fifty years old, but one of the patients reported seeing a gathering of cult members of some sort. Actually he said that they weren’t exactly a cult as we know it per se, but that they were worshippers of a sort. Worshippers of the thing you have often mentioned about. Some unnamable and unexplainable thing.” “Perhaps it is that.” “Where are they going?” “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to follow them at this juncture. We don’t know what we’re up against and we’re not prepared at all. Something in the back of my mind tells me that I have read something somewhere that relates to this. We’re going back to look through my books.” He started the engine and eased his car out of the alleyway to the street. Verity stared out onto Lisdon. The street was white with snow, pristine, as if nothing had ever happened just before. “We should call the police.” “The police won’t do anything, Verity. You should know after what happened to Pelorus. It’s the holiday. They’re only going through the motions. They won’t be serious until the new year starts. Besides, what are they going to do if we just report we saw two murders by a bunch of hooded individuals? There are no bodies, no clues, no proof.” “At least we could tell them.” “I still don’t think it’s a good idea. What if it somehow got back to them that we saw it all?” She shivered. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to her or Gammell if they found them. She felt as if she were being sucked into some underground, insane world where nothing was safe or sure anymore. “I guess you’re right.” As they drove through the small streets of the Old Quarter and then back to Avtandil to head back out of the city, Verity had a thought that made her heart feel like it was a pulsating piece of ice. “Do you suppose that Tiberius Verne accidentally gave our names to them? He also mentioned that he talked about them to us during our conversation.” Gammell’s hands slightly tightened on the steering wheel. “You mean you think they, Verne’s supposed friends, are in this? I sincerely hope he completely forgot about us after we left.”