The Sorcerer's House (30 page)

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Authors: Gene Wolfe

Tags: #Fantasy - General, #Wolfe; Gene - Prose & Criticism, #Magic, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Epistolary fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Ex-convicts, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Abandoned houses, #Supernatural, #General, #Science Fiction And Fantasy

BOOK: The Sorcerer's House
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"You must have met Alexander Skotos, however. He died only three years ago, if I remember what I've been told correctly. Did he ever come to the Country Hill office?"

Jake nodded. "I took care of a few little things for him when Jim
wasn't around. He wasn't a friendly kind of guy, but he knew what he wanted and why he wanted it, and he didn't waste my time. I'll say that for him."

"I'll try not to waste any more of ours. I'm going to try to describe him. Please tell me if anything that I say sounds wrong. He was shorter than I am?"

Jake nodded. "Three or four inches shorter, I'd say."

"Would you call him a brisk, energetic little man with a big, sharp nose, dark eyes, and yellow hair?"

Jake looked thoughtful "Sort of a yellowish brown, I'd say. About the same color as yours. Say it like that, and you've got him."

Doris muttered, "I'm beginning to think you must have known him under another name, Bax."

I shrugged. "I can't be held accountable for your thoughts."

Our dinners arrived, bringing with them enough appetizing odors to fill a lecture hall. You will have dined in Chinese restaurants I feel sure, George. Perhaps you have even dined in one nearly as good as the Garden of Happiness. I shall merely tell you that there were side dishes in plenty, including Country-Style Rice, Chicken Fried Rice (yes!), and my favorite, the delicious Mandarin Rice. I know all those names, you see, because we asked the waitress about them. Doris and I amused ourselves by trying to identify the eight precious ingredients. The easy ones were oysters and shrimp. A third was either octopus or squid, although neither of us could be quite sure which. The remaining five provided us with a good deal of amused conversation.

Before that, however, I had a final question for Jake. "This is a catchall, I admit. Tell me anything that pops into your mind. What was peculiar about Skotos? Did you notice any mannerisms? Was there something eccentric or unusual in the way he dressed? Anything of that kind?"

"Just one." Jake was looking thoughtful. "He had this stick. Sort of like a cane. It came about shoulder high and had a
V
on top. Jim said he had some big antique pistols, and when he shot them at the range he'd lay the barrel in the
V
to steady it. I never saw that."

Doris said, "But you saw this walking stick of his?"

Jake nodded. "There was something funny about it, but I can't put my finger on it. He told me once that it was an antique and it sure looked old, but why did he carry it around with him all the time? He didn't need it to walk with."

"I should have asked this before. I'm sure the lawyer would have known, and Mr. Hardaway probably would've known as well. What was Skotos's cause of death? Do you know?"

Jake shook his head. "He died out of town, I know that. Off on a trip somewhere. They flew the body back here."

Doris asked, "In Port Saint Jude? Something like that?"

"Huh uh. Out of the country. Haiti? I think it was down there in Central America somewhere."

I asked, "Is there anything else can you tell us?"

"Nothing much. I didn't go to the funeral. Jim did, though. Jim Hardaway. He said it was closed-casket, and there were only three people, counting him."

Doris touched my arm. "I don't suppose you were one of them, Bax?"

Wishing I had been, I shook my head.

"What about your brother George?"

"It's possible, but I don't know. Whether Jake does is the question. Do you, Jake? Who were the other two?"

"I've got no idea. Ask Jim."

"I'll do it," Doris told me. "I'll catch him first thing in the morning and phone you."

"I want to play a game," I told her. "It's cocky of me, and it may be stupid, too. But I think I can name one of them." I got out my little notebook.

"Name one, but not the other?"

"Correct." I wrote a name, tore out the page, and folded it twice. "Don't read this until you've talked to Mr. Hardaway."

"I won't. Girl Scout's honor."

I handed the paper to her. "Call me after you read it and you can tell me what a fool I was."

"I will, but speaking of calls . . ." Doris pointed. "Somebody seems to have called one of us."

Our waitress was approaching, cordless telephone in hand. I sipped my tea and waited.

"Mr. Dunn, he here?"

I raised my hand.

"You sec'tary on phone." The waitress smiled and bobbed her head. "She Chinese! Is velly nice lady!"

As I took the telephone, Doris muttered, "Now you've got a secretary?"

I shrugged and said hello.

"Is this Bax?"

"Yes, it is. Hello, Winker. What is it?"

"A lady came and asked for you. I let her in. She's gone, Bax. We can't find her!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Toby and I went looking for her. I didn't find her, and Toby's gone, too."

"Thank you for calling, Winker. Young? A plump lady with yellow hair?"

"By plump you mean fat?"

"That's right, fat."

"Then she's the one."

"I see. Please find her if you can, and call me if you do. I'll--"

"Your phone's off!"

"I'll turn it back on as soon as we're through, I promise."

"All right, I'll call."

"Wait--do you speak Chinese?"

Winkle giggled. "Riddle bit speak."

"I . . . see. Please call me if you find her." I hung up and returned the instrument to our waitress.

Doris said, "Now there's a missing woman. Is this another girlfriend, Bax?"

"Hardly. It's Cathy Ruth. She came early and seems to have decided to investigate on her own. Toby's looking for her."

"I see. You know, I never knew just what a footman does. What if he doesn't find her?"

I sipped tea. "In that case, you and I will look for her tonight."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Doris glanced at her watch. "It's getting late. Does your secretary live with you?"

"To be honest," I said, "I really don't know, although I suspect she may. To tell you the truth, I don't know where she lives. It's a big house."

Jake laughed. "Doris told me what happened when you got socked. I wish I could have listened in when the cops questioned you."

"You would have been entirely welcome. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to tell them what a truly fine man my brother George is."

Doris gave the thumbs-down sign.

"You two had better stop talking and eat," Jake told us. "I'm almost through."

"Excellent advice." I picked up my chopsticks and ate.

Doris said, "I've got a question for you."

I chewed and swallowed. "I have half a dozen."

"Well, I don't have answers. Only questions. Could the Ruth girl get hurt in that weird house of yours?"

Recalling the beating I had received from Ieuan Black, I nodded.

But now, George, I must cease to write. I began this letter because, exhausted though I am, I could not get to sleep. Now I feel that I may sleep for a week.

Yours sincerely,

Bax

Number 29
H
ELP
I
S ON THE
W
AY

Mr. Dunn:

Thank you for your letter. I will certainly be in transit by the time you receive this, and may well have landed. I have reserved a room at the Medicine Man Hilton. You may contact me there, should you desire to. Otherwise I will contact you, probably by telephone.

Before I do, it would be well for you to review all recent manifestations. I would suggest that you give each one a short name, such as "Gray Figure in the Garden" or "Piano Played at Midnight." Be as specific as possible regarding times and places. Also,
persons present
. It is a key element. I will question you as to other details. For example: Just what was seen, if anything? Just what was heard, if anything? Was there an odor? A sensation of cold? Please search your memory for such details.

Your sister-in-law has told me you were attacked by wolves of more than natural size, and mentioned, as you did in your letter, that you feel that your car, as well as your home, is a site of supernormal activity. Such may be the case, but I think it unlikely. More plausibly, it is
you yourself
. We must examine this possibility.

Yours truly,

Mrs. O. Pogach

"Madame Orizia"

PS: Mrs. Dunn thinks the wolves may have been werewolves. She also said you shot and killed one. That is unlikely, as only silver bullets would have been effective.

Number 30
F
REEDOM
!

Dear Bax,

Glorious news! George has been released from Jail. He just telephoned me from his hotel. I said, "Does this mean you're coming home, dear?"

He said no because he cannot leave town. He would be arrested again. But he said Ben had found him a bail man. I do not know who Ben is, perhaps you do and will tell me. Please ask Ben and the bail man, too, to let him come home.

It is not that I love George, Bax, but I know you do. You will say he married me for my money, and I know you are right.

Also he calls me stupid. If he were smart himself, like you, he would not do that.

But his office keeps phoning with Questions. I cannot answer them,
but they just think up more. I have not told them George was in jail, but I have not told them he was not, either. It is not a lie not to tell people things. Especially if they do not ask me.

Also George has the keys to the good car, which will be parked way out at the airport. I only have the old one, which is very hard to start. Besides, everyone knows it is old.

So if you see him, Bax, please let him know to call his office. Also mail me the keys. I would take a cab out and drive the car back. Then when he came home he could take a cab. I think you will see that is fair.

I like Miss Finn and her mother, too. Thank you for telling me about them. I have told Madame Orizia about the werewolves, but she did not believe me. She said she did, but I know she did not. This was the only time I have ever said anything and had her not believe it. Don't you think that is sad? I do.

But you told me and I believe you. Please be careful. Do not feed them or try to pet them.

Please tell George that I said that if you ever want to visit us you would be most welcome here. There is a big spare bedroom, and you could stay as long as you like. It would mean I would have somebody to talk to when George was at his office. When he was here, too. He will not talk to me mostly except to call names.

Fondly,

Millie

Number 31
G
ET
O
UT
--
AND
G
OT
O
UT

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