Hannah Bronto - Lovers in paradise

Nothing happened.

I stared into the office, the flickering light ball hovering over my shoulder dimming rapidly until it dissolved. Again I was in darkness. I fought back the panicky urge to spray out another light ball from the condenser. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness, knowing it was safer, until I could see clearly into the office.

I saw Miss Gethryn's low green desk, thankfully empty now, and a shudder went through me. Memory brought her back to me, like a ghost haunting my conscience, and I wondered what she might say if she saw me here like this. Probably: You're late Mr. Fell! I walked quickly past her desk, into the bowels of the office.

It was just as I remembered it from this afternoon: a large square room with chairs and sofas pressed against the walls, magaviewers jutting out above them like obscene fingers against the night. The far wall was made of clear plasteel, overlooking the deep canyon of the street beyond. Another building stared at me from across the way, all dark and closed down, its windows like observing, accusing eyes.

I turned into Dr. Gideon's office, stumbling over the unfamiliar, placement of furniture. After banging my knee on the sharp, edge of a quietly floating levitab, sending an ashtray sliding off the edge so that it clattered loudly on the floor, I decided I needed light with which to see. There was no light on Gideon's desk, and the overhead illumination would have been too bright, so I decided to spray another ball of cold light from the condensor. I drew the drapes first, as a precaution, and then I stood in the center of the room and pointed the nozzle toward the ceiling. An opaque mist sprayed out, condensing and shrinking until it had formed itself into a hazily amorphous globe of flickering warmthless light.

There, that was better. I could see – not perfectly, but enough in which my search could be conducted. But where to begin? And what, I wondered, was I looking for? Would I know it when I found it? Was it even here, or was I off again, as Jocelyn once pointed out, on another wild goose chase?

His desk, I decided, was the logical place to begin the search. Then I'd go through his files, and if I still hadn't found what I was looking for, perhaps somewhere there was a wall safe. Behind one of the pictures on the walls: it was not uncommon.

I sat in his chair behind the desk. First I checked out the top of the desk: a picture of a pretty dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, probably his wife, in a double frame. The other picture was of a little girl in a pair of red sleepers. She looked like Gideon. Probably his daughter. A desk calendar, a tape box for correspondence, a decorative blotter, and a desk viewer, probably so that he can talk with, good old Miss Gethryn.

I removed the pictures from the frame, checking to see whether there was anything behind them. There wasn't. I felt the edges of the pictures themselves, and inspected the backings, just to make sure something wasn't attached there. There wasn't. I returned the pictures into the frame, then placed it again on the edge of the desk where I'd gotten it from.

Next the calendar. I went through each page carefully, beginning on the first of the year. I read every note, every memo, every appointment, right up to today. Nothing. Several times there were notations about a group, and I wondered if that was the same group Miss Spade was a member of. Probably, but maybe not. I decided to check the rest of the pages for the balance of the year. Except for appointments which would come in the next two weeks, there was nothing. I checked the calendar base and frame, looking underneath and around the sides for – what? Something.

I pulled over the tape box, dumping out the crystals onto the blotter. Six tape crystals in all. I left them on the blotter and inspected the box itself. I checked for false bottoms and secret walls. Nothing: solid plasteel. I put it back and studied the crystals. There should be a player somewhere, probably in one of the desk drawers.

I was lucky: the first drawer I tried was not only unlocked, the player was in there. I lifted it carefully out and sat it down in the middle of the blotter. It was a very fancy model, and it took me a moment or two to figure it out. Finally I snapped one of the crystals into it, and turned the machine on. It began to play.

I listened to all six tape crystals: nothing. Just notes on various patients, none of whom helped my case, but were nevertheless fascinating. Psychiatrists certainly had some fucked up patients. I was amazed that rape and murder wasn't more prevalent. The rest of the crystals dealt with various other things: instructions to Miss Gethryn, letters to any number of people, and personal memos: again nothing except something of an insight into Gideon's mind. Even that didn't help.

I put the crystals back into the tape box and returned the box to its place on the desk. Then I shut the player and put it back in the drawer out of which I got it. I reclosed the drawer. All that was left to check out was the blotter and then I would be finished with the top of the desk.

The light ball flickered and went out. I sat in the darkness and listened to the silence. Then I sprayed out a small burst, and it sat above the desk like a glowing cloud.

There was nothing under the blotter but an unpaid liquor bill. Either Dr. Gideon entertained a lot, or he had a drinking problem. The bill, which was clearly for only one month's purchases, was astronomical. I tucked that fact away for future use; it was hard to tell how something like that might eventually fit into all this confusion. And perhaps it didn't.

I opened the middle drawer of the desk. It was a wide but shallow drawer, and in the front were some pens, a couple of paper clips, and a knot of rubber bands. In a small cup was some loose change: less than a quarter of a credit. I pulled the drawer a little further out. On the left was a folder full of papers, and on top of it was an envelope. Something was scribbed across the envelope. I turned my head and read it: Darling!

I yanked the envelope out of the drawer, my pulse quickening as I sensed significance. My stomach tightened into a knot as my fingers fumbled with the flap. I pulled it out. It was a single sheet of plasper, very expensive judging by the rich texture, folded in half. I opened the sheet and read:

Auggie,

Please, darling, don't forget! Tonight is the night we go to Anne and Martin's dinner party! And we don't want to be late, do we, darling, as we were last time?

So please! Don't schedule any last minute "emergencies". They'd be terribly hurt if we disappointed them again. Anne is such a dear friend.

Until tonight, darling, remember I love you.

Love,

Margot

Then I read it again, just to make sure.

I glanced back up at the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman in the picture in the corner of the desk. The same handwriting and signature appeared written across the picture: Love, Margot.

So much for hunches, I thought. I shoved the letter back into the envelope and dropped it on the desk I pulled out the folder of papers. It turned out that they were letters, but business letters. I ruffled through them, looking for a name or address that might mean something, but saw none. With a resigned sigh, I turned to the top of the pile and began to read them. It wasn't until I'd read through the third letter that I cursed out loud, and banged my fist on the desk top.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I cried. I reached again for the letter written by Gideon's wife.

I re-read the salutation: "Auggie." Something clicked in the back of my brain. That name meant something to me. Where had I heard it before?

"Auggie…" I said aloud. "Auggie… Dr. C. Auguste Gideon… Dr. Auggie Gideon… Auggie – good God! Could he be the same one?"

I jumped up quickly, knocking the chair back behind me, my hand inadvertently shattering the dimming globe of light. There were a few frantic moments when I clumsily fumbled with the condenser, and then, when I finally did find the nozzle, I sprayed too much. The room lit up like a Christmas crystal.