Dreams of Darkspace presents…

Lies the Beautiful Tell Us

All stories by Peter R. Heaton

I hesitated at the brick steps which led into Montgomery Renaud’s residence; even though we had undoubtedly been connected by the events of Elementary Road, I still had my reservations regarding the man.  Involving myself in his matters placed my own life in the rarest of dangers, something that had been absent prior to the crossing of our paths.  The warm London sun beat down on me as I considered my next move; the stench from the Thames overwhelming this close to river.  

Absently, my hand found the note in my pocket and crushed it out of frustration.  It had been delivered not by Montgomery, but by his serving woman, Ms. Delanie, imploring me to arrive immediately and to bring a well-sharpened knife.  I had made every effort to avoid the man of late; part of me thought that if Montgomery could forget me, I could forget him.  That would be the first step to purging the memories of that shadowy basement and the terrors that had been revealed to me.  

The nights since, I had been infected with dark dreams.  Of the dreams themselves, I could recall nothing, but when I woke I felt the path they had traced on my mind; as a slug marks its trail by slime, so too did these dreams leave behind a residue of hopelessness and loneliness.  A fear had been fed by these dark thoughts: a fear of my own insanity.  It was that which had stopped me at the threshold.  

Montgomery straddled the fine line of a genius, a task made considerably more difficult considering his aim was to know the unknowable; I did not think that I had the constitution to see the things in which Montgomery dabbled.   Even fueled by my primal fears, fears woven into my soul from a time when fire was magic to man, my imagination could not conjure up half of the terrors Montgomery had encountered in his life.

My legs released.  Gingerly I tested one of the brick steps.  My own stubbornness, and perhaps, stupidity had finally won out.  I found the front door unlocked.  

Ms. Delainie was standing in the front hall.  Her face was as pale as porcelain, which in that moment, did nothing to improve her homely appearance.  Her nose overpowered her face and her thin lips reminded me of those of my mother, peacefully tucked within her casket.  

“Ms. Delainie?  I’m Bradley Barrow.  I’m here to see Montgomery.”

“Mr. Renaud would like to see you in his drawing room.”

“Thank you, Ms. Delainie.”  I approached her carefully.  “Is everything alright?  Is he alone?”

She shook her head.

“Perhaps,” I said calmly, “it is best if you left for a bit.”

Before my words had been said, she already had her coat in hand.  “I shouldn’t.  Mr. Renaud has his moods…”

“Don’t worry, I will sooth any objections Mr. Renaud may have.”

I saw Ms. Delainie off and entered the drawing room.

“Bradley,” Montgomery exclaimed brightly.  He was seated in his arm chair, the one opposite him occupied by a fashionably dressed lady.  I tried to keep my eyes locked onto her face; her corset seemed to be fitted too tightly for her curves.  “May I introduce to you Eleanor Carper.  She’s interested in writing a piece on Elementary Road and wanted to speak with the principals in the case.”

“Thank you for coming,” Eleanor said to me.  Her smile revealed two cute dimples on either side of her mouth.  Perhaps today will not be so terrible, I thought.  She looked out of place among the organized clutter of Montgomery’s drawing room, her blue silk dress brilliant against the muted colors of the room’s furnishings.

Montgomery pointed to another arm chair in the corner.  “Would you join us?  Ms. Delainie left you some tea on the table.” I retrieved the armchair, frowning slightly at the tea.  Montgomery had forgotten my preference for coffee.

Seeing the tea go unmolested, he motioned back towards the side table where it waited.  “It is a darjeeling, your favorite.”

“Montgomery--”

“Bradley,” Montgomery interjected, “we’ve company.  Don’t be rude.”

I sighed, and grabbed the tea from the table.  Beneath it there was a note.  As I read it, the tea cup slipped slightly, spilling contents across the table.  Predictably you will be enchanted by the woman.  She is VERY dangerous.  I removed my handkerchief, wiping up the mess and the note in one motion and stuffing it into my coat pocket.  The tea chattered against the plate until I stopped the shaking of my hand.  I squeezed my elbow against my hip, feeling the blade hidden at my side.  

I turned around, forcing a smile onto my face.  “Thank you very much for inviting me over.  I’ve been wanting to discuss those very events.”

“Wonderful!” Eleanor replied.  “Mr. Renaud has filled me in on most of the details, but I thought with you both here we could discuss specifics?”

“Please,” Montgomery replied.

“The official report mentions a woman: Ruth Emery.”

At the mention of the name I felt a sudden constriction in my throat.  I let out an audible gasp as I saw my shadow begin to rise up from the floor and start to take some unknowable shape.

Both Montgomery and Eleanor regarded me oddly.

“Tea, sorry,” I offered awkwardly, wiping at an imaginary spill on my lap.

“I could not forget that woman.” Montgomery replied.

“It says here that she escaped?”

Montgomery nodded.  “She did.”

“Any idea where she might have gone?”

“None.”

I regarded Montgomery carefully as he replied, hoping for my own sake it was not a lie.  I never wanted to encounter that woman again.

“You thought she was a witch.”

“And you doubt that?”

The woman shook her head. “No.  I’m curious why you thought that.”

“There aren’t too many professions that require you to chant in tongues.” I replied, trying not to recall the effect those utterings had had on me.  The woman made a note.  I could not keep myself from examining her as she looked down.

In that moment I thought she might be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen: it was the symmetry of her face and form, accentuated by the elegance of her dress; her shimmering ebony hair, inviting me to inspect the curves and twists of the elegant bun she wore; the pink hue of her full lips, lips that made me wonder what it would be like to kiss and be kissed by.

“What, I believe my companion means to say, is that, in our experience, there is a quality about those who deign to reach into the void.  If you know what you are looking for, it can be easy to spot.”  

I continued to examine Eleanor Carper and realized that it was not one aspect that drew me to her, but all of them combined, as if each had been perfectly selected to seduce me and none other.  Unintentionally my eyes traced the bold line of her cleavage; I could feel how smooth her pearl-colored skin would be to my touch.  

She caught me staring as she looked up from her writing.  Even though she smiled at me, I felt my cheeks redden and looked down at my tea.  I considered Montgomery’s warning; perhaps that was why Montgomery considered her dangerous: he didn’t know how to handle a beautiful woman!

“And the other woman, there is no name recorded for her.  Do either of you recall her well?”

I recall her quite well, I thought, considering she died at my hands.  To my surprise I had uttered the words aloud.

“Yes.  It says that in the report,” she replied nonchalantly.  “Do you remember if they looked alike, her and Ruth?”

For the life of me I could not remember her face.  All I could see was a body at my feet, face down, twitching violently.

“Now that you say that,” Montgomery said, “I do think they could have been sisters.”

The woman made another note.

“That is good.”  Eleanor shuffled through a few papers, found the one she was looking for and began skimming it.  “What about the skull?”

Montgomery narrowed his eyes.  “That was not in the report.”

“It wasn’t.”  She said, glancing from me to Montgomery.  “Captain Eves mentioned it.”

“Something about a beautiful woman loosens men’s tongues,” he replied.

“Something,” she said, grinning.  I shifted in my seat, the sheath of my knife hitting the armrest and digging into my side.  I wondered again why Montgomery had insisted on me bringing it.   No, I thought, her hazel eyes meeting mine, there cannot be anything sinister about this woman.  “So, this skull.  Do you remember it, Bradley?”

“I glanced it,” I started carefully, not unaware that Montgomery was feeding her details as he wanted, “only briefly.” I looked at Montgomery, but he gave only a quick widening of his eyes.  “It seemed to be the key to the ritual we interrupted.”

That piqued her interest and she leaned forward, my eyes stealing a glance at the exaggerated heft of her bosom. I did not feel embarrassed this time even though she was aware of where my gaze had landed.  It seemed as if she was inviting me to stare.  

“The whole in the ground...did they ever place it within?”

“No.  Montgomery saw to that.”  Her eyes drew mine into them.  What I felt then made it clear that we had some unique connection, her and I.  

“Bradley?” She asked.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you knew what became of the skull.”

“Oh.  Sorry,” I offered, stuttering as I tried to focus.  “Montgomery took it for further study.”

“You did?” She asked, turning her full attention on my friend.

“Why, yes I did.”

“Do you think I could see it?”

“Of course.  It may take me a few moments to find it.  Will you two be alright if I leave you alone?”

“We’ll be fine,” Eleanor replied.  “Won’t we Bradley?”

“Of course.” My palms had begun to sweat  Without luck I tried to dry them against the armrests.  

“Would either of you like anything? I can send Ms. Delainie to get it.”

“I sent her home, Monty.”

“You did, did you?  Well, I guess I have told you to make yourself at home here.”  He disappeared out the double doors, shutting them behind him.

“I’m glad we’ve got some time to be alone.”  She slid her chair a bit closer to mine.

“You are?” I said, suddenly feeling how uncomfortably close she was, now that Montgomery had left.

“Yes.  There are some questions I want to ask you.”  I felt her hand on my thigh.

“Sure.  Yes.  I can answer them.  Your questions.”

“How well do you know Montgomery?”

“Just a month.  I didn’t know him until the events you’ve come here to discuss.”

“I see he’s chosen to introduce you to the part of our world hidden in the shadows.”

As she said this I felt something creeping up over the armchair, and begin to purchase itself on my shoulders.  I turned and seeing nothing, felt a wave of relief.  That was until I thought I saw my own shadow melting back into the armchair.

She rose from her chair and leaned in to whisper in my ear.  I could feel myself yearning to lift up from my seat so I could feel the contact of her body.

“I can keep you safe, Bradley.” Her words tickled my ear; but I knew they were true.

“Montgomery is a dangerous man, dabbling in things he does not understand.  You cannot trust him, Bradley Barrow.  Montgomery is a man consumed by one thing: knowing the unknowable.”  I felt the sharpness of a nail trace the back of my ear.  “He will only use you for this end.  But you and I, Bradley, we are meant to be together.”  She leaned away so she could see my face.  “You’ve been alone for awhile, Bradley. I can feel it on you.”

“I…” I tried to form a coherent response but couldn’t manage one.  I could only focus on her pink lips as they framed each syllable.

“Would you do something for me, Bradley?”

“Yes,” I heard myself reply.  I knew I could not refuse her; there would be no chivalry in denying this woman my help.

She moved -- or I thought she moved -- suddenly she was holding a small chest, which I had spied on my visits among the curios on Montgomery’s mantle.

“How?”  I said, trying to push through the fog forming in my mind, to understand how she had moved so quickly.

“Pleasure is not the only gift I can give you, Bradley.  There are many things I can teach you.  Just tell me where the key is.”

“Key?” I replied, looking at the chest in her hand.  “I...I don’t know.”

“Think, Bradley.  It is important to him.  Where would he keep it?”

I tried to think but my mind had become sluggish, confused.  I knew I wanted her.  All I had to do was answer.  But I didn’t know.

“Bradley,” she snapped, frowning for the first time.  “If you don’t tell me where it is, then I can’t help you.” I felt the heat from her hand on my thigh again.  “I can’t do anything for you.”

Again, I felt the creature perch onto me.  This time I saw the thing fully revealed, my own figure, albeit horribly disfigured, done in an inky blackness.  The creature slipped a wet arm around my neck, the black liquid dripping and soaking into my shirt and neck tie.

“His drug box,” I said, pointing to the side table next to Montgomery’s armchair.  

“Good,” Eleanor said, smiling.  “Very good, Bradley.”

I could feel wetness against my cheek and wiped it clean.  Seeing the black smear on my hand, I frowned, uncertain how it had gotten there.  In fact, I was struggling to recall the last few minutes.  Eleanor was seated in her chair, with one of Montgomery’s trinkets on the armchair next to her, and his prized drug box in the other.  She opened the box, shuffled through its contents and removed an iron key.  

“Now we wait.”

For what I wasn’t sure.  I thought to ask Eleanor if I had blacked out for a few moments but held my tongue, not wanting her to think I was crazy.  I didn’t want to mess this up now; it was obvious that she was interested in furthering our friendship.  If all this was Montgomery’s way of setting me up I’ll owe him big time.

Montgomery returned.  In his hands was a cloth pouch.  I stared at him dumbly.

“What have you got?”

“The skull Eleanor asked for.  Perhaps some more tea, Bradley?”

“Of course,” I replied, hoping neither of them caught on to my sudden onset of amnesia.  My eyes drifted back to Eleanor.  A ray of light had fallen on her face, illuminating the right side.  Her skin was flawless;  I could feel my lips on her cheek , could taste the sun-kissed skin.

My mind did not comprehend what happened next: her eyes were locked on mine, but there was a moment of interruption -- she was there and then not there, no more than three or four heartbeats and then back again, her eyes still on mine.   I heard Montgomery cry out in surprise.  The pouch was in her hand.  She untied the strings and freed the skull.

“You have done well, Bradley.”  She is so beautiful when she smiles, I thought.  “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Yes.  I do.”

“Kill him for me.”

The knife was in my hand.  I felt my body moving, Montgomery had started to speak but now there was nothing but silence; except for her voice, echoing over and over again.

Kill him for me.

I swiped clumsily at Montgomery.

Kill him for me.

Pink lips uttered the syllables, but I knew they were promising something else.

I had reigned in my wild swings and started corralling Montgomery into the corner.

Kill him for me.

“I love you,” I heard myself say, seeing Montgomery’s exposed stomach, and putting all of my weight into the jab.

A sudden pain overcame me and the knife fell to the floor.  The room shifted, the force of Montgomery’s disarming causing me to follow the knife to the ground.  I reached for it, but my fingers were clumsy, only pushing the weapon across the floor towards the doors of the drawing room.  Sound began to return to my world, I could hear Montgomery and Eleanor struggling.

She was moving impossibly fast, his strikes to slow to connect.

“Bring me the knife, Bradley.” Eleanor commanded over Montgomery’s grunts.

I found the knife on the floor, held it in my hand.  For a moment I didn’t know where I was.

A knife.  Why do I have a knife?

Kill him for me.

It was the eyes this time.  I knew the promise.  I had only to hold up my end of the bargain.

She had him cornered against the wall, was striking him in the face and the stomach, too fast for him to defend himself.  

“Ms. Delanie!” I heard him cry out.  “Right on time.  I’m terribly sorry about this!”

I turned and was face to face with the horrified countenance of Ms. Delanie.  She stood in the doorway of the drawing room, a hand over her mouth, frozen in fear.  I was confronted by the vulgar crook in her nose, by the multitude of pockmarks decorating her cheeks. And when her eyes met mine, I could notice nothing else but their dullness, the way they were off centered and pinched too close together.  

“Ms. Delanie,” I started dumbly.  My mind struggled to restart.  I remembered words, words that had been important to me but I could no longer recall.

I heard Montgomery shout.  “Bradley!”

I turned, saw him struggling under Eleanor’s blows.  I raised the knife.  She had her back to me.  The limp form of a woman came into my mind; the memory of a rock in my hand, the feeling of it, all red and slick.  It was too similar.  

Realizing I was no longer her pawn, the woman was suddenly facing me, the knife now in her hands.  I stared at my own hand dumbly.  There was a moment of clarity;  I saw her face, thought there was genuine sadness carved into her features.

I had bought Montgomery the single moment he needed.  He yelled as he grabbed the witch and refused to let go.

“Stand back!”

They both began shaking.  I heard the terrible sound of teeth chattering uncontrollably.  Montgomery was screaming, now choking, now making the most guttural of noises.  Eyes rolled.  Intimately tangled, they crashed to the floor, still convulsing, still caught in the throes of Montgomery’s deadly device.  The smell of burnt hair began to crowd the room.  

Finally they parted, their bodies separating and collapsing with the finality of a marionette cut from its strings.  

I rushed to the side of my friend.  Carefully I touched him; his whole person was hot.

“Montgomery!” I yelled.  Slapping him in the face a few times, I called out. “Water, Ms. Delanie.  Quick!”  But the woman had not moved a muscle; her hand still covering her mouth.  I grabbed what remained of my tea, which had long since cooled, and tossed it onto Montgomery’s face.  Proving fruitless, I grabbed Montgomery’s drug case and pulled out a small paper packet.  I ripped it open and forced the contents under his nose, holding his mouth shut to force him to breath the smelling salts in.

Nothing.  I rubbed the packet frantically between thumb and forefinger, pressing it up into his nose, anything I could do to force the salts’ essence into his nasal passage.

Montgomery bolted upright with such suddenness that I jumped up to my feet.  His eyes were wild and bloodshot.  He sat there for a moment with a blank look on his face.

“Where am I?”

“You don’t know?”

He regarded me, as if struggling to place my face with a name.  “Bradley?”

“Yes, Montgomery?”

“Where the hell am I?”

“You know the rule about asking questions twice.” I replied smartly.

@@@

It took a few more minutes but Montgomery’s memory returned and without missing another beat, he was already tending to the wounded psyche of the latest serving woman to leave his employ.

“Only a play, Ms. Delanie.  Come now, if it really was so terrifying that is good news!  Mr. Barrow’s act is sure to delight his clients.”

“It’s awful hot out, Ms. Delanie, and bright.  Coming into the darkness like that, it’s a shock for the senses.”  I offered.

“But, that woman, is she okay?  And is that really...a skull?”  She asked, her hand still held over her mouth in disbelief.  

“Just a prop, dear.”  Montgomery rapped on it, as if that would prove it false.  I saw the knife on the ground near the body of Eleanor Carper and picked it up.  

“She’s a marvelous actress, isn’t she?” I said.  

“Actress?  She’s twitching!  Someone help her!”

“Method acting,” Montgomery began, taking the frightened woman in his arms, “requires absolute devotion.  To fully assume the role one must become the character long before the performance, and just the same they must continue in that role even once the curtain has dropped!”

“Method?  Method acting?”  She lowered her head to peer at Eleanor Carper’s unconscious form.  “Oh, yes.  If you look close enough you can see her breathing!”  Ms. Delanie let out a nervous chuckle.  “That really is devotion.”  She looked at the knife in my hand.

“Is that a fake as well?” Ms. Delanie asked, the color beginning to return to her cheeks.  I looked down at the weapon in my hand. How close I had come to stabbing Montgomery with it!  The knife slipped from my grasp and clattered on the floor.

“Actually, the knife is real.” Montgomery replied, escorting her from the room.  “Captain Eves is a close friend, all of this has been cleared with his office in the case of any...accidents.”  

Through the open doorway I watched Montgomery offer her final reassurances.  “I understand you want to nullify our arrangement.  For your own suffering, I think it fair if I pay you for the full week.”  Montgomery turned and looked at me.  “This is a very special event my friend is putting on.  There are others who might try to steal his work.  Or pay those who might be familiar with the performance.  He has little to offer but his art; it would crush him, and myself for that matter, if it were ruined.  Your discretion would be appreciated.”  He deposited a month’s worth of salary in her hand.

“Yes, Mr. Renaud.  Thank you.”  She poked her head back into the room.  “Marvelous performance, Mr. Barrow.  Really!”

Montgomery came back in the room and shut the doors behind him.  Picking up his drug case, he collapsed into his armchair.  “It was a good guess,” he said, waving the key that Eleanor had taken from his box.  “I am unaccustomed to having...friends who might understand that which I hold dear.  I suppose it would not take much to find a better hiding place.”  

“What is in the box?” I asked.

“Someday, Bradley.  Someday.”  Seated such, his hair wickedly unkempt, his eyes red and wide, his breath coming ragged, holding aloft a small glass vial to inspect its contents, Montgomery looked the very figure of insanity.

“I’m not sure that’s safe, given your condition Montgomery.”

“Please, stop calling me Montgomery.  Monty will do fine.”  He ignored my health advice.  “Don’t worry Bradley, the dosage would be tame, even for you.”  The cocaine solution injected into him, he eased back into his chair, his eyes closed briefly.

“It was a shame Ms. Delanie had not the fortitude to carry on in my employ.”

“She was nice.”

“Punctual, too,” he announced.

“How’s that?”

“She returned precisely at four-thirty, as I had instructed.  If she had arrived any later,” he said, a strange look on his face, his eyes grinning while his face frowned, ”I wonder if our play would have had a more tragic end.”

I looked down at the woman and realized neither of us had checked her vitals.  Ms. Delanie had been correct; she was breathing, and although it seemed somewhat erratic her pulse was strong.  Unconsciously I brushed a loosened lock of hair behind her ear.  Even in her state, I was quite aware of how beautiful she looked.

“Who is she?”

“Each coven is made of threes.  Of those we encountered, Eleanor was the matriarch.”

I considered how her magic had been stronger but much more subtle than the other two.  I remembered the third that Montgomery had seen that day.  He had told me it was a man.

“Could she have been the third you spotted at Elementary Road?”

“No.  There was no mistaking the build of the body, the way it was carried.  The voice.  No, that certainly had been a man.  Not her.”  He added with a laugh: “Definitely not her.”

“Why did you tell me to come here?” I asked.  

“I am not blind to the fact that you have been avoiding me the past two weeks.”  I broke from his gaze.  “Fret not, Bradley, I have no concerns as to the framework of normal friendships.  I should know, better than any other, how much our mind revolts against glimpses of the void.  However, I needed you to see.”  He nudged Eleanor’s body again.  

“Why?”

“Yes, yes.  Always the ‘why’ of things.  The coven we encountered is part of something larger.  A greater group.  Elementary Road was not the first time that I thwarted them.”  I was not surprised.  It explained some of the comfort and calmness Montgomery had portrayed.

“A smoke, perhaps?”  I said, drawing my pipe out.

“Definitely.”  Montgomery took out his own pipe, fussing over them until he judged them to be perfectly packed.  I inhaled, letting the tobacco smoke choke out any other sensation.  It burned through my head and down into my lungs and not long after the friendly buzz crept into my brain.

“They would not have stopped.”

“I’m not...made for all this.  I almost killed you, Monty.”  But it was not Montgomery, carefully dodging the knife I thrust at him that I saw in my mind, but the woman -- the witch -- laying on her stomach, a piece of her skull having been misplaced by the rock in my hand.  “Christ, last time I killed a woman.”

“Unfortunate, yes.  Necessary, yes.  Is there anything more natural than the conflict of kill or be killed?  Surely you do not question your own instincts.  They are what make you stand out from the lay crowd.”

“What do you mean.”

“Simply: they are the only reason you are alive.”

“But--”

“There are no ‘buts’.  You defended your right to live.  And this is without even considered what they were doing.  Was their any question their intentions were evil?”

“You never told me what it was they were doing.”

“No,” he replied sternly, “I did not.”

I didn’t have the strength to try to pry information from him.  I moved on to a more immediate topic.  “I still don’t think I understand why you wanted me to come here.”

“You’re a part of this now.  There is no choice in the matter.  You can tell me I am wrong and you can walk away, but next time your shadow turns against you I will not be there to help.”  He too a long draught from his pipe, his face briefly obscured by a cloud of smoke as he exhaled.  “Or you can join me.  I can teach you techniques to protect your mind.”

“To what end?” I asked.

“To…,” he stopped, speechless for perhaps the first time I had seen.  He rubbed his chin roughly and then continued, “another person, a normal person, might say to ‘protect’ the world.  But know now that I am not that person.”  He shrugged, and began pulling at the loose threads on both armrests.  “To learn, to understand, to help, if possible.  The fun part.”  He looked at me.  “But also to destroy.  There is naught of the void that should exist in our reality.  Things like these witches.”

“And their master.”

“Yes.  Him too.”

“What do we do now?”

Montgomery frowned at the body of Eleanor Carper.  She had finally ceased her convulsions.  “It would have been easier if the shock had killed her.”

It was odd: after the intense experience of the unknown -- an encounter outside the rules of the real world -- there was now a very real problem, bound by very real laws.  I did not know what to suggest.

“We could leave her in the woods,” I heard myself say.

“Yes, We’ll bury her in leaves and hope she’s stuck forever.”

“My mind’s fried.”

“Very amusing,” Montgomery snorted.

“Why tell me to bring a knife?”

“I didn’t want you to bring a gun.”

“But if I had brought my gun--”

“You might have shot me.  I wasn’t afraid of handling you with a sharp edge but I’ve not seen how good a shot you are.  You’re lucky I didn’t break your wrist.”

“There so many things--”

“That you don’t quite understand.  Your task now is learning; understanding will come.  All of the questions you have can be answered thusly: preparation.  There is no greater ally.”

“If you’re so prepared then what are we doing with her?”

“I said it myself,” he said with a sigh.  “I should not have expected you to intimate.  She has to die, Bradley.  There is not one other option with a single merit.”

“Not killing her has the ‘not killing anyone’ merit.”

“Once recovered she would return, likely not alone.  They would kill us without a thought.”  

I remembered the touch of lips against mine, pink lips that I had never kissed, would never kiss.  Firm, it would have been: her giving back as much as I gave.  But the lingering touch of her seduction was overwhelmed by a more fearful thing -- the wet, black, shadow, the mutated figure of myself that had perched onto me.  A thing that had threatened me ever since Elementary Road.  

Even with Eleanor Carper killed, I did not think it would go away.  I think I knew then that he was right but I hated myself for not having the capacity to form an argument to combat Montgomery’s own neat logic: that a necessary thing had to be done.  

“I think I might retire,” I said.

“Then you are okay with what has to be done,” Montgomery stated.

“No,” I replied sharply.  “I get that you have to do it.  But you don’t get to tell me I have to be okay with it.”

“Of course, Bradley.  Well, thank you for coming,” he said awkwardly.

“You’re welcome.”

“I know I am a strange man, Bradley.”  My own brother having been an addict, I could see Montgomery was entering the full throes of his cocaine high.  “You should consider why you answered my note.  I had thought, perhaps, that I had proved too strange.  It seems that is true.”

As I gathered up my things, I did as he bid.  Curiosity is a strong creature but it had not been that alone that had urged me to answer his summon.  

There had been a moment after Elementary Road, after we had taken a turn saving the other’s life: I couldn’t even remember the joke, or who had said it.  But I remembered laughing and not ever having been that happy before.  I had felt things I never had: the euphoria of escaping death; knowing that I had faced that deciding moment in my life and not frozen.  But more than those there had been a connection with Montgomery born in that moment from our shared trial.

I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into.  And maybe he was right, maybe I didn’t have a choice in any of it.  But even though I knew there was a part of me that wanted to follow him -- and it was a strong part of me; all things born from insanity are -- I knew I could have no part in killing this woman.  

Already I had been forced to kill.  That, at least, had been to prevent an immediate threat on Montgomery’s life.  My mind could make nothing else out of this than that it was a cold-blooded thing, no matter what threat she posed to either of us.

But I did not know how, or even want to, tell him any of that.  I wondering if this was the last time I would stand in his drawing room.  “Actually Monty, I think a little strangeness was just what my life needed.”

“Well, Bradley.  Until next time.”  I waved and pushed through the double doors into the hall.  

“I’ll lock the door.  Don’t forget to put an ad out for a new serving woman.” I hadn’t wanted to glimpse her again, especially not like she was, but my eyes were drawn to the form of Eleanor Carper as I pulled the double doors shut.

It was hard not to notice how Montgomery’s form looked perched over hers: I was impressed with visions of the tall grasses of the African safaris, of a lion prepared to devour its prey.  

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