main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 35 Knock They spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon going through Gammell’s books and the journal that Verity had found. They found no mention of anything remotely like the group of people they had witnessed in Lisdon. “The archives,” said Gammell as he sat beside Verity on the living room couch. She was half-heartedly leafing through the index of a history textbook. “You said that you read about it in the old patient files.” “Yes, but these patients only had glimpses like we did ourselves. They didn’t know anything factual about them. They mostly superimposed their own fears and ideas of what they thought they were doing.” “But you didn’t go through all the files.” “No. I still have a pile in my office. I was thinking about filing those after the holidays. But if there’s anything there, we could go see. I have the keys to the institute and the archives themselves.” They drove to the Rothburne Institute. From the outside, the windows looked dark as if the building was still deserted. But surely, someone was up at this time of day? Surely some of the crew still on duty during the holidays was looking after some of the patients? The institute was locked still and Verity had to use her key. The front lobby was dimly lit, but it wasn’t completely empty. The fat bewhiskered custodian was on the floor slowly mopping the tiles in wide random circles. It was the holiday. Shouldn’t he be on break? The oddness of the custodian sent prickles of acute awareness across Verity’s skin. She quickly traversed the floor to the corridor with the stairs leading down to the archives. The custodian never looked up to greet them even though the sound of their footsteps were loud in the silence. The door to the archives was already unlocked and the lights on. “Someone’s here,” said Gammell. She tried to shake off her uneasiness. “Everyone should be off from work. What’s so important about today?” “I don’t know.” They went inside. Verity gave a quick furtive glance at the sub-basement door. It was firmly closed. In the glassed in offices, she saw that Bob was sitting at his desk intently watching his computer screen. At the noise of their entrance, he looked up startled and a strange expression briefly crossed his thick face. But it soon disappeared when he pasted on a smile and waved to them. Verity waved back. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to say hello to him,” whispered Gammell in her ear. “He’s usually agitated when I’m around—before you were hired, I was mostly left alone because of Quinn. I didn’t like his pity, but at least he was sympathetic enough to have me left to my own devices.” “Why don’t you like Bob?” “Call it intuition, but I just don’t feel comfortable with him around. And today, he seems even, I don’t know what the word is for it, but there’s something more to him. As if he is hiding something. Or it could just be my own paranoia.” “Well, I admit its sort of strange seeing him around on the holidays.” They went into Verity’s office and closed the door. They took off their coats and draped them on a nearby chair. She hauled a pile of files she had kept on the floor next to her desk onto the tabletop. As they both reached for the top files, there was a knock at the door. Gammell quickly withdrew his hand and leaned back in the chair he was sitting in across from Verity. She took the folder and watched as the door opened and Bob poked his head in. “Afternoon, Verity. Working on a holiday?” “Of sorts,” she said. “Well, don’t work too hard. It’s time to relax.” “You should too. Weren’t you working?” “I just remembered that I had forgotten something and was just retrieving it,” said Bob dismissively. His gaze landed on Gammell who wasn’t smiling but was watching the male archivist closely, almost suspiciously. Bob frowned. “What’s he doing here?” “I’m just helping Gammell do some research.” “You’re being too nice to him,” he said bluntly. “It’s sort of rude to ignore a friend’s request, isn’t it?” she replied coolly. “A fiend,” he said directly to Gammell. He didn’t flinch at Bob’s blatant derision. “What’s wrong with you, having to go through some wild goose chase even during the holidays? I bet you called her this morning to get her out of bed to open the archives for you. You should be locked up.” “So do you think that my session with the good doctor upstairs isn’t enough?” said Gammell quietly. Verity felt her hands tighten on the folder she was holding. If Bob said anything more inflammatory, she was sure Gammell would do something physically rash. “No, I don’t think it’s enough.” Then he turned back to Verity. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that I leave you alone with him.” “It’s all right, Bob. I’ve been with him the past couple of days. I trust him.” “The past couple of days? What have you two been doing?” “Mostly celebrating the holidays.” Bob rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. If you say you’re all right with being with this kook, who’s to argue with you? Good day Verity.” She let out a breath when he closed the door. “He’s certainly in a bad mood today.” “It’s me,” said Gammell. “I put a lot of people in a bad mood.” * * * By the time they had read through all of those files, Verity felt her stomach grumbling. She was hungry and they still had not found what they were looking for. She suggested that they head to her house for dinner since it was closer. Verity locked up the archives. Up in the reception area, it was empty again. The custodian was nowhere to be seen. Gammell drove them to Finsen. The sky was getting darker and the moon, or what was left of it, was a bare sliver. It had stopped snowing and the heavy clouds that had been overhead the entire day had blown away further inland. The interior of Verity’s house was cold and besides the light, she flipped on the heating. She was glad that the warm air from the vents started in the kitchen and dining area. The first thing he did after he took off his coat was to go to the kitchen to look in her fridge. “You really like green peppers, don’t you?” he said pointing to a large bag filled with the green vegetables stuffed on the top rack. “Um, well, they were on sale,” she said. He gave her a teasing grin. “That’s not a very good excuse,” he said, “but I’ll see what I can do about it.” He took several of the green peppers and then a slab of roast from the freezer to defrost. “Can’t I do anything?” she said. “I sort of feel left out if I’m only setting the table.” “You can boil some water. And you must have a pan somewhere. Do you also have some noodles?” Verity found all of these utensils and ingredients when there was a loud knock on the back door. She froze in mid-step. “I’m sure they don’t know where I live. No one knows where I live except you.” “If it’s them, don’t open the door.” He was chopping the peppers with a long, sharp knife. His fingers tightened over the handle. Nervously, she drew the curtain of the backdoor window. The next door neighbor in her fur coat stood in the doorstep. She took a deep breath and opened the door. “I just want to borrow a cup of sugar,” the middle-aged woman said. “Come in. I’m sure I have some sugar somewhere.” Verity closed the door when the woman stepped inside. She peeked into the kitchen spying Gammell chopping up the vegetables. “Actually, don’t bother about the sugar,” her neighbor said. “I was just being nosy. I wanted to see what your apartment looked like.” Suddenly amused, Verity said, “It’s exactly the same as yours in terms of layout, isn’t it?” “Yes, but well, as I said before, I’m nosy. And you’re lucky to catch one that cooks for you.” “Oh? You mean Gammell?” The woman nodded. “What sort of name is Gammell anyway?” “That’s his last name. His first name is Nathaniel.” “Why don’t you call him by his first name?” She shrugged. “I guess I’m used to calling him that. I’m Verity, by the way.” “I’m Fala.” “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.” “Truly?” “Of course. Apparently I have a surplus of vegetables sitting in the fridge.” “That sounds nice.” Fala took off her fur coat and put it on the back of one of the dining room chairs and sighed as she sat down. Verity noticed that the woman, despite her garish makeup and thining hair, wore a stylish white sweater of soft wool and pleated slacks fit for a woman socially from the upper crust. A silver chain with an iron crow pendant hung from her neck. She went into the kitchen to take up the dishes to set the table. “I hope another person isn’t putting too much burden on you,” said Verity. “I can help.” “No, I’m okay,” said Gammell. He had dumped the vegetables in the pan and was beginning to cut up the meat. “She seems all right for a nosy neighbor.” “It’s a difficult thing, to find a man who cooks,” said Fala as Verity emerged from the kitchen and placed the dishes on the table. “I haven’t found one so far. But if I do, I’d latch onto him and won’t let him get away.” “I don’t think most men like to be chained up in a relationship.” The woman winked. “I’ll make it worth his while. When I wake up, I’ll make love to him to make him forget any thoughts about leaving and then he’ll have to make me breakfast in bed.” Verity felt the heat creep up her face again, but she said, “That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.” “No, not a very bad deal at all.” “So have you lived in this neighborhood long?” “I’ve lived in Monteport all my life,” she said. “But this time of the year makes me itch to go out somewhere, elsewhere. It gets worse every year, to tell you the truth. But there’s only a few days left until the new year. That’s when the feeling usually goes away.” “Maybe it’s some sort of seasonal disorder,” said Verity. “Perhaps. Sometimes I like to go to the museum to calm myself down, though. You should go if you haven’t.” “Isn’t the museum closed during the holidays?” Fala chuckled. “Closed? Not if you have the key. I work there as a curator of the ancient civilization exhibits. Really old, fascinating stuff. Did you know that back before Monteport was truly colonized and built up, there were people already living here worshipping old, unnamed gods? Actually, I’m not sure if I would call them gods. More like beings or things or something with some sort of sentience. But that’s just me. There’s also some interesting exhibits on the history of a hundred years ago that the museum has just put up. It’s a hit with a lot of patrons.” Something in the back of Verity’s mind stirred. Was it intuition? “Gammell and I have been doing some research on the history of Monteport,” she said. “I work in the archives of the Rothburne Institute but so far we haven’t really found much.” “The museum has some archives in the basement,” said Fala. “Tell you what, you can come with me tomorrow to take a brief look around as payment for the dinner you so graciously offered. I was going the museum anyway. If you’ve noticed, I don’t like staying in my own house. The museum is like a haven for me.”