Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Dark and Sinister Happenings
Garden
12:00pm


That was his power. The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And like that, poof. He's gone.
~The Usual Suspects



The Doctor slept. He did not sleep well or fitfully, but it was enough.
And as he slept he dreamed.

The City was stretched far below him, beautifully laid out. The streets sparkled as if diamonds had been laid down instead of cobblestones. It was a new city; Garden had just been finished. There were fresh green shoots coming up between the cracks of the sidewalk slabs. The transplanted trees blended into the City's landscape as if to make fully true the metaphor, 'the urban jungle.
There were no people yet walking the streets, living and breathing life into the City's bellows, but there would be soon. The City was silent, but not in an eerie. It was peaceful rather, something inviting and calm to those who would listen to the sound of silence.
The Market was empty as well, but everything was there. The stalls were sturdy and clean, the thoroughfares swept and open to anyone who would come. There were no scents of fresh bread; that would come later with the bakers' stalls opening when the bakers came to Garden. The market was a bare canvas, ready to be made into whatever the artisans' brushstrokes and paint would make of it.
The gardens and fields nearby had been fertilized and sowed in the spring. Summer now, the stalks and shoots of underground plantings spoke of a rich bounty that was soon to be harvested by Garden's new citizens. They just waited now, waving gently in the little breeze, their fate reserved for sacrifice to the new denizens of life and living.
The Vivarium was richly coloured, in hues of each and sand and water. The effect when viewed properly was that of a wild oasis, just happening to end in a line of trees that formed an effective, impenetrable hidden fence. There no animals yet, but there would be soon. There were many different such places of studious refuge, some larger to accommodate the larger animals, others much smaller in scope and size. They all featured the same genius in design though: a careful attention to detail and place.
The Doctor walked the byways and alleys in his dream. He had seen most of the City this way; walking and observing in close detail both in life and dreams. In his dreams the City was always empty and seemingly to be waiting for the living to inhabit it. There was always an expectant silence, as if Garden was holding Her breath waiting for it to be broken.
The Doctor himself never made any noise; he didn't know if this was a feature of his dream, or rather that he was a little frightened of what would happen to the City if he did. He rather walked with the same bated breath, watching and waiting.
At least that's what it felt like in his dreams.
He stopped outside the park. It was also empty of life. The trees still swayed to the wind's suggestion and the fruit was almost ready to be picked, but that didn't matter. The Doctor walked inside still searching.
He always took the same path through the City, always searching, never finding. In these dreams he had never asked himself for what he was searching, but he figured when he found another living citizen of Garden he would be done.
The paths through the park: in life worn and tended carefully. In dreams they were tended just as carefully, but they looked as if they had never been touched. The Doctor was enough of himself in his dreams to tread carefully on the path; he didn't want to create more work for whoever had the job of keeping the path kept.
Always his goal, the Terrarium lay directly in front of him but a short walk away. He never hesitated but always walked forward and straight into the Dome.
Today, after what had happened early that morning, he hesitated for the first time.
What was Garden? How had it changed and he not seen?
The questions kept coming and he had no answer anymore he felt. It was more than the inability to answer, it was something beyond that.
He started to walk towards the Dome.

The Dome, freshly finished, gleamed in the sun's zenith. The large glass door, open and inviting, was quite large enough to admit the Doctor three abreast.
He walked inside.
It was cool, as if in the evening inside the structure. The path to the middle again was tended carefully and not worn in any way. The Doctor struck forward at a careful pace towards the center. He had nine complete circles before he arrive at the center of the grove. He groped in his pocket for his pipe.
A dark shadow, formless and dark, slipped inside the open door to the Dome.
Smoking cheerfully, the Doctor finished the ninth circle and cleared the last wall.
He stopped. The grove was right in front of the Doctor now; the whole scene was in clear view.

The Doctor's dream suddenly changed. He was still in the grove, but his viewpoint was that of from the very top of the IT Tower. He could once again, just like the start of his dream, see the spread of the whole City. It was very beautiful to his eyes, for he loved Garden.
The City was still empty, but the Doctor always pretended at this point of the dream that he just could not see anyone for he was too high. He imagined Garden the way it was today.
Its citizens bustling from here to there; the market, a hive of activity that only closed when the sun was down and everyone had left, and the park, full of people that were not dead.

Then quickly as it changed before, the dream was different again. He was in the grove, standing before the tree.

Grouped around the tree were the same two victims the Doctor had examined this morning. They were not marked in any way, but he somehow knew, in the mysterious way of dreams, that they were already dead.
Not being afraid in the least of dead bodies, or their killer, the Doctor stepped forward for a closer look.
There was no basket to gather fruit near them, half full with their nightly duties. For some reason, the doctor found himself thinking about that. There was no fruit on the tree either; nothing to harvest around the tree at all. It was the only thing he had seen in Garden not flowering. The tree looked healthy enough except for that one thing.
He wondered at these differences; he knew what he had seen before, just a few hours ago, and now he saw a complete contradiction. Again, in the mysterious way of dreams, he did not question it.

A shadow loomed over his then and swallowed it in its magnitude. He spun around to face whatever had come up behind him…
But nothing was there.
The Doctor wasn’t afraid. This was his dream.

The sensation of waking was always strange to the Doctor. He would be disorientated for a mere moment, and then knowledge of everything around would wash over him in a complete swell of information. It was a heady experience, sometimes a little much in the morning.
Right now though, it was midafternoon, about two forty he discovered when he looked at the clock and that information was exactly something he needed.
Choking back a quick and silent oath, he hurriedly got up from his recumbent position and adjusted his coat. The Doctor strode out into the vestibule for an affirmation of his meeting with the Inspector.
He did not remember any of his dream of a few moments ago.
There was no note. His note was gone as well.
"Well." Were the Doctor's only words.
He walked back and entered the other room. It was the study, but it looked more like a place of living for a small number of individuals.
Towards one end of the room, the back, there was an old desk. It was hard to tell what it was though, due to the number of papers that covered it. This is where the Doctor went to when he entered. He sat down, adjusted his legs and took out his notebook. He started to write; this was had been his habit when he had the a practice. He would always take careful notes so as to forget nothing. This had made him a good doctor and the rare one that was genuinely liked by his patients.

"Busy? Or may I come in?" The voice was so welcome, the Doctor didn't even get up in surprise.
"I am never to busy for you my dear. Come in, come in." The Doctor said smiling warmly at his visitor. "Pardon me if I don't get up, I must finish this." He guestured with his notebook while smiling ruefully. "I'll only be moment."
"It's all right Evatt. I am the one intruding." She said smiling a little, her voice still brusque and to the point.
The Doctor's visitor was no longer young, she had more gray in her hair than not and the wrinkles in her face told of a life well lived.
Her eyes though, that is where she had not changed at all. They still could flash at a moment's notice at anything she showed her displeasure. Right now, they just contained their usual sparkling intelligence which right now was directed at the Doctor.
He finished and carefully put the notebook away in the jumble on the desk.
"Evelyn, I am afraid if I asked you to meet me here at this time, I had completely forgotten." He smiled a little wanly, but missing none of the warmth he usually reserved for her.
"Nonsense, I just came over to inquire as to how you are doing." She nodded in his direction and continued. "We always tend to forget that Doctor's need help every once in a while too."
He smiled at that but said nothing.
"You haven't done this sort of thing in years, Doctor, are you sure you're still up for it?" She smiled back at him a little encouragingly.
"How did you get in Eve? I thought my door was shut. I shut it so I don't have to admit people who ask questions like that of me." The Doctor answered peevishly. He usually didn't like being reminded of his age or that he had not acted as a doctor in a couple years.
"You don't mind it when I ask it, you like it." She murmered back, looking around the room curiously. "Besides, you not usually here anyway."
"That is because I am usually trying to avoid meeting you Eve. It's very physically draining having these conversations with you constantly and I am not always sure I am ready for them."
She laughed. It was a younger woman's laugh, free and sophisticated.
"Oh, I found this on your floor as I walked in." She handed his note back over to him. "I took the liberty of reading it for you. It's adressed to someone named Mondieu and is for a meeting this afternoon."
She raised her eyebrows at him.
She raised the tone of her voice to a falsetto, "Now Sonny, I think you're a little too young to get mixed up in something like that. I think it's better if we let the authorities handle it....and us." She added quietly at the last.
"Eve, Mondieu was the Inspector called in. This is his case. I am just doing what he asked of me."
"That's what I am talking about! This is Garden, I just think that he's no better than any other policeman that could have been called in, or a specialist."
She raised her eyebrows at him again.
"Specialist Evelyn? What are you talking about? I think you're just talking out of your hat again."
He got up suddenly as he finished.
"Why do we need an Inspector anyway? Who called him in? Where are you going?" She asked quickly copying his actions.
"I am famished. Would you like to join me in the Market for some repast? How does," He paused to think for a second. "Del Monico's sound to you?"
"You  know that sounds delightful. What about my questions?" She hounded him while following him out into the vestibule.
"Leave that not there, will you Eve? It's too late, but I would like Tom to see what he missed today."
The Doctor said gesturing to the small table where had previously placed the note.
"All right, but you're ignoring my questions." She said, putting the note back in its place.
"I am not. It's just that I am just postponing them. I don't like to talk about serious matters on an empty stomach." At this The Doctor smiled at her and held the door open for her.
He joined her outside after locking up and they proceeded to walk down the sidewalk towards the general viscinity of the Market.

It was a beautiful day for a stroll. The sun was shining down brightly, the slight breeze whispered at coolness and it took place in Garden.
"Do you ever stop and ask yourself, why this happened?" The Doctor inquired as they walked.
"You mean why someone went to all the trouble of announcing their actions before hand, then bled dry Poor Addam and Lilya as per their announcement? No, I guess I haven't. I have been more thinking of what I would do to that person if I caught them." She grimaced and put her hands back to here sides where she clenched her fists again.
"I have been asking myself that question since this morning. Why?" He shook his head. "I can't figure it out."
"Well that is always the key though isn't it? We find the motive and we find the killer?" Eve responded.
"That is actually what I was trying to tell you."
The Doctor stopped and turned to look at her. "I hope you are not going to suggest..."
"I think we should do something about this....ourselves." She said quietly.

The scene after Del Monico's was the same.
"I don't think it's a good idea Eve. I think that we would just get in the way." He sighed hopelessly at her.
"We might, but we might do more good than harm. We could help the Inspector. We know Garden and he doesn't." She said without a trace of the same sigh.
"Well Eve, I already am helping him, whenever he has a chance to take a look at my report." The Doctor said with finality.
"You know I was thinking more help than that." Eve said accusingly.
He laughed and they continued walking towards the park or plaza where they could watch the sun set.

The Doctor's Manor house stood empty that evening. The shutters did not move listlessly in the slow wind, the curtains might be said to have wafted. There was no one in the carriage house. The horses were put away for the evening, their hay pitched down and grain in their buckets. The barouche had been rolled to a stop, the doors shut and locked for the evening. There were no lights on in either the Manor or the carriage house.
There was a light on in the small cottage behind the Carriage house though. It was a small cottage, even by cottage standards. It had two windows facing out and one of them had a faint orange glow that suggested a soft light or candle.
There was movement inside, the orange glow went softer for a second as a shadow crossed over it and then it got brighter as it passed.
Robinson, the Doctor's man, and butler was polishing the silverware.
He was a younger man, perhaps just a few shades past thirty, clean shaven and well knit. He had a mop of usually neat brown hair, but today being his off-buttle day, it was just a mop of brown hair. His features were non-descript to the point of difficulty. The Doctor had said upon hiring that Robinson had received the job because he looked like all the butlers he had ever seen before. Robinson didn't know if that actually was a reason or not he was hired.
He had not worn his uniform today, and he was just wearing his driver wear as he clean and polished the silver. He did this chore in the kitchen where he could be comfortable. There was a larder close by  and he could use the table for resting the cleaning buckets.
"Clean enough I'd guess." He said to himself quietly inspecting a spoon. He put it in the spoon drawer.