Lemony Snicket - The Reptile Room

Klaus walked over to the stack of books and opened the one on top. He had marked his place with a small piece of paper, so he found what he was looking for right away. '"The Mamba du Mal,'" he read out loud, '"is one of the deadliest snakes in the hemisphere, noted for its strangulatory grip, used in conjunction with its deadly venom, giving all of its victims a tenebrous hue, which is ghastly to behold.'" He put the book down, and turned to Mr. Poe. "'Strangulatory' means-"

"We know what the words mean!" Stephano shouted.

"Then you must know," Klaus said, "that the Mamba du Mal did not kill Uncle Monty. His body didn't have a tenebrous hue. It was as pale as could be."

"That's true," Mr. Poe said, "but it doesn't necessarily indicate that Dr. Montgomery was murdered."

"Yes," Dr. Lucafont said. "Perhaps, just this once, the snake didn't feel like bruising its victim."

"It is more likely," Violet said, "that Uncle Monty was killed with these items." She held up the glass vial with the sealed rubber cap. "This vial is labeled 'Venom du Mal,' and it's obviously from Uncle Monty's cabinet of venom samples." She then held up the syringe with the sharp needle. "Stephano-Olaf-took this syringe and injected the venom into Uncle Monty. Then he poked an extra hole, so it would look like the snake had bitten him."

"But I loved Dr. Montgomery," Stephano said. "I would have had nothing to gain from his death."

Sometimes, when someone tells a ridiculous lie, it is best to ignore it entirely. "When I turn eighteen, as we all know," Violet continued, ignoring Stephano entirely, "I inherit the Baudelaire fortune, and Stephano intended to get that fortune for himself. It would be easier to do so if we were in a location that was more difficult to trace, such as Peru." Violet held up the small bunch of folded papers. "These are tickets for the Prospero, leaving Hazy Harbor for Peru at five o'clock today. That's where Stephano was taking us when we happened to run into you, Mr. Poe."

"But Uncle Monty tore up Stephano's ticket to Peru," Klaus said, looking confused. "I saw him."

"That's true," Violet said. "That's why he had to get Uncle Monty out of the way. He killed Uncle Monty-" Violet stopped for a minute and shuddered. "He killed Uncle Monty, and took this laminated card. It's Monty's membership card for the Herpetological Society. Stephano planned to pose as Uncle Monty to get on board the Prospero, and whisk us away to Peru."

"But I don't understand," Mr. Poe said. "How did Stephano even know about your fortune?"

"Because he's really Count Olaf," Violet said, exasperated that she had to explain what she and her siblings and you and I knew the moment Stephano arrived at the house. "He may have shaved his head, and trimmed off his eyebrows, but the only way he could get rid of the tattoo on his left ankle was with this powder puff and hand mirror. There's makeup all over his left ankle, to hide the eye, and I'll bet if we rub it with a cloth we can see the tattoo."

"That's absurd!" Stephano cried.

"We'll see about that," Mr. Poe replied. "Now, who has a cloth?"

"Not me," Klaus said.

"Not me," Violet said.

"Guweel!" Sunny said.

"Well, if nobody has a cloth, we might as well forget the whole thing," Dr. Lucafont said, but

Mr. Poe held up a finger to tell him to wait. To the relief of the Baudelaire orphans, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his handkerchief.

"Your left ankle, please," he said sternly to Stephano.

"But you've been coughing into that all day!" Stephano said. "It has germs!"

"If you are really who the children say you are," Mr. Poe said, "then germs are the least of your problems. Your left ankle, please."

Stephano-and this is the last time, thank goodness, we'll have to call him by his phony name-gave a little growl, and pulled his left pants leg up to reveal his ankle. Mr. Poe knelt down and rubbed at it for a few moments. At first, nothing appeared to happen, but then, like a sun shining through clouds at the end of a terrible rainstorm, the faint outline of an eye began to appear. Clearer and clearer it grew until it was as dark as it had been when the orphans first saw it, back when they had lived with Count Olaf.

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny all stared at the eye, and the eye stared back. For the first time in their lives, the Baudelaire orphans were happy to see it.

If this were a book written to entertain small children, you would know what would happen next. With the villain's identity and evil,, plans exposed, the police would arrive on the scene and place him in a jail for the rest of his life, and the plucky youngsters would go out for pizza and live happily ever after. But this book is about the Baudelaire orphans, and you and I know that these three unfortunate children living happily ever after is about as likely as Uncle Monty returning to life. But it seemed to the Baudelaire orphans, as the tattoo became evident, that at least a little bit of Uncle Monty had come back to them as they proved Count Olaf's treachery once and for all.

"That's the eye, all right," Mr. Poe said, and stopped rubbing Count Olaf's ankle. "You are most definitely Count Olaf, and you are most definitely under arrest."

"And I am most definitely shocked," Dr. Lucafont said, clapping his oddly solid hands to his head.

"As am I," Mr. Poe agreed, grabbing Count Olaf's arm in case he tried to run anywhere. "Violet, Klaus, Sunny-please forgive me for not believing you earlier. It just seemed too far-fetched that he would have searched you out, disguised himself as a laboratory assistant, and concocted an elaborate plan to steal your fortune."

"I wonder what happened to Gustav, Uncle Monty's real lab assistant?" Klaus wondered out loud. "If Gustav hadn't quit, then Uncle Monty never would have hired Count Olaf."

Count Olaf had been quiet this whole time, ever since the tattoo had appeared. His shiny eyes had darted this way and that, watching everyone carefully the way a lion will watch a herd of antelope, looking for the one that would be best to kill and eat. But at the mention of Gustav's name, he spoke up.

"Gustav didn't quit," he said in his wheezy voice. "Gustav is dead! One day when he was out collecting wildflowers I drowned him in the Swarthy Swamp. Then I forged a note saying he quit." Count Olaf looked at the three children as if he were going to run over and strangle them, but instead he stood absolutely still, which somehow was even scarier. "But that's nothing compared to what I will do to you, orphans. You have won this round of the game, but I will return for your fortune, and for your precious skin."

"This is not a game, you horrible man," Mr. Poe said. "Dominos is a game. Water polo is a game. Murder is a crime, and you will go to jail for it. I will drive you to the police station in town right this very minute. Oh, drat, I can't. My car is wrecked. Well, I'll take you down in Dr. Montgomery's jeep, and you children can follow along in Dr. Lucafont's car. I guess you'll be able to see the inside of a doctor's automobile, after all."

"It might be easier," Dr. Lucafont said, "to put Stephano in my car, and have the children follow behind. After all, Dr. Montgomery's body is in my car, so there's no room for all three children, anyway."

"Well," Mr. Poe said, "I'd hate to disappoint the children after they've had such a trying time. We can move Dr. Montgomery's body to the jeep, and-"

"We couldn't care less about the inside of a doctor's automobile," Violet said impatiently. "We only made that up so we wouldn't be trapped alone with Count Olaf."

"You shouldn't tell lies, orphans," Count Olaf said.

"I don't think you are in a position to give moral lectures to children, Olaf," Mr. Poe said sternly. "All right, Dr. Lucafont, you take him."