A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
~ TS Eliot – The Wasteland
Chapter 13: Mondieu
Day 4: Saturday
The dreams more than ever haunted the inspector that
evening, and he scarcely slept. A hell
city, alight with copper-green fires, carmine reds like demon foxes scampering
over the buildings with sparkling, devilish eyes. The buildings metamorphosed
into glass-gravestones, the melting hands of trees, blazing and screaming as
the earth swallowed them. No birds cawed, only the snapping cracking of limbs and
fizzing sputter of melting crystal, and the stench of decay.
On the top of the tallest
building, a dark figure, eyes replaced with onyx and flames, shrouded in blackness,
surveyed everything beneath: the wasteland. He turned around, and the
inspector, too, was atop the building, disembodied and bound in place. The
figure opened its mouth to speak, an eternal maw, a void of blackness was his
mouth: “Let there be light? No. Let there be fire.”
The inspector woke to a grey
haze over the morning, neither bright nor dark. He washed his face and shivered
in the dawn chill. Cold? He was halfway through dressing when his mind
caught up to him. Cold? It’s never cold
in Garden. Inspector Mondieu raced over to the windows and threw open the
shades. The light was strangled, dim behind gunmetal skies, an impenetrable
stratum of clouds.
It was done, then. Why had no one awakened
him? Was he always too late?
Downstairs
the inspector hurried, a man on a mission. When he reached the common room,
everyone was silent, staring at the inspector with unmitigated fright. The Bear
rushed up to the inspector’s side, staring at the inspector like a frightened
child in a thunderstorm. “Inspector? Are we doomed? Is this the end of garden?”
“No,
friends. I hope this is only temporary,” replied the inspector. Everyone’s eyes
were wide, panicked. Had no one seen
clouds before? Looking around at their ages, they are mostly less than thirty
each, so maybe they never have. What a strange world. They were also wearing
summer attire, and the inspector noticed that many were shivering.
“They
say that it will freeze, that we’ll die of cold, inspector,” The Bear continued,
rubbing his hands together.
“Just
hold tight. There is no cause to panic just yet.”
“What do we do, Mondieu? Is there
hope, yet?”
“Get a fire going,” the inspector
replied in a fatherly tone, a stern voice. “And keep yourselves warm. And
someone get word out to start producing warmer attire. Now is not the time for
dawdling, but the time for action. Courage, friends. We are not dead, yet.”
This
sounds like a battle, like we’re all engaged in a fierce siege, and this is our
last of nights. What terrible sorcery had this criminal wrought on these
people, tearing away the sky?
The inspector grabbed a couple of
cold biscuits and a couple of mugs of coffee. “And make some damned coffee!”
the inspector yelled, almost spitting his out. Stale and tepid – no one was paying attention to life, just now. Were
they doomed?
“Where are you going, inspector?” a
young man asked as Mondieu reached the door. “Are you going to save us?”
“I’m going to try,” replied the
inspector, and he walked out the door.
A brisk breeze brushed along the
byways of the city, and the inspector hurried along the back-streets towards
the tower looming to the east. Had they
caught the culprit? How had the criminal gotten away with all of this?
Fervor filled the inspector, a fire. This must end and soon. If there was to be fire, let it be the fire
of justice.
The information tower was ghostly
when the inspector arrived, and Vespars stood guard inside.
“Ahoy, Vespars,” the inspector
called, entering into the building. Turners waved with a wrench from the
computer console, looking a little haggard and worse for wear this morning. “What’s
the news? Did we catch anyone?”
“Well, yes and no, inspector,”
Vespars started, his voice falling off.
Mondieu stopped short, a look of
bewilderment crossing his face. “What do you mean?”
“We caught someone, certainly. But
the catastrophe has filled our skies, anyway.”
“So we did catch someone then, yes?
Our villain snooping around at night?”
“Well…”
“Out with it, Vespars. I’m losing
my patience,” the inspector said, his countenance dark as the sky. “I’m short
on coffee and if we caught our murderer, I can finally get some good sleep for
once.”
“We have no way of knowing who we
caught was the murderer. Seth can brief you at the police station. But we
caught two, in point of fact, though I suspect they were unsuspecting
innocents.”
“Very well,” sighed the inspector. “Hold
here for now. I intend to keep watch over this precinct until this is over or
we’ve brought justice to our villain.”
“Inspector,” Vespars acknowledged
with a nod of his head, settling back into his post.
“And I’ll be back for you, Turners.
I want to know everything, and why the weather is failing in this thrice damned
city.” The inspector turned around in a huff and pulled out a cigarette. Just one more, then I’ll stop. This infernal
habit – is it really bringing me any comfort? Or just twitchy fingers for a
temporary high whenever stressed? Seth better have some good news.
The inspector arrived at the police
station moments later, and pushed his way in without knocking.
Seth looked up from his desk and
stood up when he saw it was the inspector. He looked low on sleep as well. That’s all this city needs: a hibernation
and a recycling.
“Welcome, inspector. I suspect you’ll
be wanting to see the prisoners, then, yes?” Seth walked around the table and
led the way into a back room, guarded by DuMont. It was an average looking room
and the door did not appear locked or barricaded in any fashion.
“You are keeping the prisoners in
here? Can’t we get some locks on this?” the inspector asked, incredulous. “There
aren’t any open windows in there, are there? Or a sliding glass door they can
just walk out of?”
“Oh, nothing of the sort. And I don’t
think our prisoners are trying to escape, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” the inspector
asked, his anger rising. Was everyone so
vague, today? Did the cloudy weather muck up everyone’s ability to say things
up-front?
Seth opened the door and the
inspector understood immediately.
“Inspector,” the Doctor cried as he
saw the door open. “Please, my companion has nothing to do with these. We’ve
committed no crime. At least send her home, and I will answer all your questions.”
The inspector sighed. “I’m afraid I
cannot do that, Doctor Evatt.” The inspector came and sat down in the room.
Both of the prisoners looked defeated, deflated, and probably had slept little,
though the room was neatly furnished
with a bed, washbowl, a couple of candles, and a plush rug laid over the hard
floor. If this is prison, I think I need
a week of it myself, with a nice book.
“Seth, take this woman with you to
the front room and watch her. I’ll speak with the Doctor, if you please.”
Seth walked over and took the woman’s
arm, speaking in soothing tones as he ushered her from the room. Seth is smooth and in control again, today.
When the door shut, leaving the
inspector and the Doctor alone in the room, the inspector stayed silent a
moment. The doctor looked tired, but unconcerned - wearied.
“Well, inspector. I seem to have
gotten us in a bit of a pickle, haven’t I?”
The inspector said nothing.
“We didn’t mean any harm, my
companion and I. We decided… I decided, we could do a little investigating, and
the last few nights, on our walks about town, we’ve been looking for clues. An
old-fashioned idealism, believing we could find something out, but we never
meant any harm.
“Please, inspector, won’t you let
her go home? She’s endured enough for one night.”
“What were you doing at the tower,
Doctor? And who is your companion? I have enough suspicions to imprison you
now, though I can say doing so leaves a distaste in my mouth.”
The Doctor heaved a sigh and sank
deeper onto the bed, knuckling his forehead. “We really were just
investigating. My companion-”
“What is your companions name,
Doctor Evatt? You wouldn’t hide anything from me, would you?”
The Doctor’s eyes widened in
surprise. The inspector was a feral wolf, a beast in man form – would he stop
at nothing for justice? “I apologize Mondieu. Her name is Evelyn, and she is a
dear personal friend of mine. We’ve grown old together, for some time now, and there
is no one in this world I hold dearer, or trust more. If there is one thing you
can count on, inspector, it is Evelyn’s honesty and goodness of heart.”
“I can count on nothing, Doctor, it
would seem. Continue. What were you doing at the tower?”
“As I said before, Inspector
Mondieu: we were investigating. I thought we might offer some aid, and while I
examined the samples yesterday, Evelyn visited the library and did some
research on crime.”
“I went to the library myself,
Doctor. I did not see Evelyn there,” the inspector replied.
“But she saw you, inspector, in the
company of a beautiful lady. She said you did not notice her in your rigorous
study, though she studied at a table not far from yours.”
The inspector held back a scowl. Damn that woman, distracting me. I’m not
noticing things, anymore.
“Well, when she returned from the
library, she made a reference to the Bible, and creation, and we came to the
conclusion that, maybe, the criminal was following the works of creation
backwards and-”
The inspector started. That’s it, isn’t it? Is that what the
criminal is doing for certain? And these two, these untrained two individuals caught on almost before I?
“What did you say?” the inspector
asked, a hint of surprise creeping into his tone.
“Why, just that we figured it might
be an act of reverse creation. Is something wrong, inspector?”
The inspector shook his head and
regained control of himself. “Do go on Doctor.”
“Well, that’s nearly the end. That
night, we decided to go to the information tower, to see if we could glean any
information about what the villain might be thinking next, since the next day
was the heavens and the stars. If anything, that meant the weather control
systems, we assumed. So we went to investigate. Vespars caught us on the road
outside the tower. We didn’t know we were doing anything wrong. The tower isn’t
locked. Please, at least let Evelyn go home. She-”
“Yes, yes. In time, Doctor Evatt,”
replied the inspector, rubbing the sides of his face. I need another cigarette and a lot of coffee for mornings like these. “Go
ahead and wait in the lobby. I will speak with Evelyn, now.”
“But, inspector-” began the doctor,
but stopped when he saw the inspector’s face.
“Do not try my patience Doctor
Evatt. I have great esteem for you, but you will not impede the path of
justice. I will talk with Evelyn, now. You may go.”
“Very well, inspector. I’ll send her
in,” replied the doctor, letting himself out the door.
DuMont placed his hand on the Doctor’s
chest with an intimidating glance, but let him pass at the inspector’s nod. A
moment later, Evelyn came into the room, her eyes lightly red and she sat down
with a huff on the edge of the bed – a little petulance.
“What do you want, inspector?”
Evelyn asked, with a little impatient impertinence. The inspector almost
chuckled.
“Evelyn, please comport yourself.
Tell me why you were at the tower last night.”
Evelyn flushed and composed
herself. “I asked the Doctor if we might investigate, seeing as we knew the
city better than you and might discover something you missed. We discovered
some clues, and they led to the tower, so we went, only thinking to study the
monitors for information. We didn’t want to kill anyone!” Evelyn ended with a
cry.
The
Doctor said he initiated, and Evelyn says she did. It was more likely that
Evelyn was in charge and the doctor was protecting her. A noble man, then, the
doctor, but foolish.
“Tell me everything, Evelyn. Don’t
leave anything out.”
Evelyn told the same story as the
Doctor, with a few minor differences – the library, the lab conversation, the
Doctor’s reluctance and her persuasion. It was clear that she didn’t trust the
inspector, or that she thought him not entirely capable, but her story matched up
with the doctor’s in all the right ways. The inspector found that if the
stories are exactly the same, something was wrong. But stories with tiny
differences were more likely correct, not memorized and told honestly in the
spur of the moment.
They
are telling the truth, then. So we
are back at square one.
The inspector had Evelyn repeat her
story once, to make certain, before nodding to himself. Everything checked out; his trap had failed, and only managed to catch
two bumbling innocents. Damn and thrice damned, this whole fiasco.
He knocked on the door and let
DuMont know he could escort Evelyn out, but stopped them at the door.
“Nothing, Evelyn, will stop me from
justice. Not you, not the doctor, not anyone. Do not think to get in my way –
the dangers are great and the stakes are high. Just remember that the next time
you continue with your investigation. You may both go. I’ll be seeing you both
again soon, I suspect.”
DuMont shut the door as he left and
left the inspector sitting in the room, alone with his thoughts, clouded and grey.
A
storm is coming, and it will leave only a wasteland of this city, if I can’t
stop it. Can it even be stopped? Soon, there would be fire.
No comments:
Post a Comment