A Hyacinth for His Hideousness

by Tharah Meester

  Immediately afterwards, once more the old man stood in front of him and stared somewhat uneasily down at him. “I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want to scare up any bad memories, but I think… you should know how bad off Gavrila was after you ran away.”

  Now he listened attentively. His teacher knew what had happened yesterday? Vrila had been at Mr Wiplay’s and had confided in him? That wasn’t like him at all. “Really?“

  “I wouldn’t want to say too much and embarrass him. I’m just happy this stupid matter has been resolved. He doesn’t want to lose you. That bugger cajoled him and exploited your falling out that morning to strengthen the idea in his mind that he isn’t good enough for you.” The old man made a dismissive gesture and turned away to continue searching through the shelves.

  With a start, Hyacinth was on his feet. His heart throbbed wildly as he followed Mr Wiplay between the high walls filled with books. “What do you mean by embarrass him? What happened that could be embarrassing for him? Tell me!” His timbre was too imperious to be appropriately polite.

  “Nothing that justifies your tone of voice,” his mentor admonished him gently and concentrated on the books instead of looking at him.

  Hyacinth tried a painstaking attempt at flattery. “Please, dearest Mr Wiplay, tell me.”

  “Perhaps he had a minor breakdown.” The old man shrugged while pulling out new thick volumes. “And perhaps he cried, I’m no longer sure. You know, my memory…”

  With mouth agape, Hyacinth stood for some time in the same spot before his legs trembled so violently he had to sit down. All of a sudden his chest tightened, the muscles in his throat as well, and his heart seemed to be beating at a slow tempo. To keep the turmoil inside him from becoming noticeable, he acted as if he were continuing to search through the books. With all his might he wanted to concentrate on their pages, but his thoughts revolved around his husband instead of the cursed pendant. In any event, Vrila was more important to him than anything else. So how could he now divert his attention to that necklace?

  “You’ll overlook it, if you stare with such an empty gaze,” Mr Wiplay stated with a smile and sat down across from him. His expression changed, and the smile faded. “Hyacinth, I want you to listen very closely to me now,” he continued, and his voice sounded different, absolutely odd. It contained something ominous that he hadn’t expected to hear.

  Hyacinth managed to nod and unconsciously wrinkled his forehead because he dreaded what he might learn next.

  “Lower your eyes and act as though you are reading your book and not talking to me,” Mr Wiplay warned him sternly, and he did as instructed. “Don’t look, but a blond man is standing back there watching us. Maybe he started following us on the way here. I had such a feeling but didn’t want to say anything because I thought my senses were playing tricks on me.”

  Hyacinth heaved a sigh of relief, because something idiotic in him had feared for an instant that Mr Wiplay would confess to being a member of the secret society and they should get out of town as quickly as possible to avoid winding up in real danger. It was ridiculous, and he was ashamed for having such a suspicion of the dear old man who’d been nothing but good to both of them.

  Then he understood. Someone had been observing them. For a considerable amount of time.

  “It was a blond man who paid the beggar to bring Vrila the terrible news of Dimitri’s death,” he said without looking up.

  “For Heaven’s sake, what kind of witches’ brew have we stumbled into?” his teacher whispered, his thin body quivering with anxiety.

  “We have to confront him.” They had no other choice. “He can’t do much to us in here, and we’d have him in our power. Maybe he’d tell us what he knows and what he’s done.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Gavrila would tear off my head if I let you be exposed to any danger. Oh no, what kind of disaster have we manoeuvred ourselves into now?”

  Almighty God, Mr Seymour Wiplay was surely one of the smartest men he knew, but certainly also one whose nerves were the most fragile.

  “Mr Wiplay, we must do it. This guy might be the key to everything. How can we allow him to disappear when he’s so near?”

  The old man nodded in rapid, uneasy movements and closed his eyes. “Yes, yes, you are indeed right,” he uttered unwillingly then looked directly at him: “What will we do?”

  Hyacinth thought intensely. His ambition was awakened. His curiosity as well. He knew it was of utmost importance to verbally confront the man, find out who the hell he was and, if necessary, turn him over to the police – or to someone at Fortlock.

  Vrila would be pleased with him. A thought which spurred him on and finally offered him an idea. “You stay right here and act as if you’re still searching for a certain book. I’ll sneak down the next aisle to the back then surprise him from behind. At the right moment, you’ll need to block his way out.“

  Mr Wiplay hesitated for a while. “If it really has to be so.”

  “Thanks and… don’t worry,” he reassured and tapped on the pistol lying hidden in his jacket. “I’ll be careful not to let the bugger get too close to either one of us.”

  That coaxed a tremulous smile from Wiplay. “Don’t talk like a Levonian gunslinger, my boy. You don’t have the right kind of face for it.”

  Hyacinth grinned teasingly, watched him from out the corner of an eye standing up with knees knocking to act as if he were completely unprepared to apprehend a criminal.

  While his mentor was appearing to examine the shelves with interest, Hyacinth took a deep breath. The blond watching them was still lingering in his aisle and could be seen through gaps in the rows of books – at least his strange brown overcoat, clearly intended as camouflage, was visible. Its unremarkable colour and design couldn’t be attributed to any profession or office and was so commonplace that anyone could easily ignore the person wearing it.

  Hyacinth regretted not being able to see the man’s face, but he’d change that soon enough.

  At last he rose, a book in his hands, and went to Mr Wiplay. “Sir, do you think this one might be helpful to us? Where did you get this volume from? There must be a second one of this work. I’d like to see it.”

  “What an encouraging bit of news,” his teacher emitted a nervous sigh, which hopefully the stranger wouldn’t notice. “From somewhere over there.”

  Hyacinth quietly thanked him and ambled along the aisle while the person they were after didn’t seem to move an inch. Apparently he hadn’t noticed they were on to him.

  Hyacinth lowered his gaze to the work he was holding upside-down, as he just then noticed. No matter, now it was most important to remain calm.

  His pulse sped up when he reached the end of the bookshelves, and he had to gather up his courage to manage to round the corner. He did so quickly and painlessly, his right hand in the pocket where he kept his pistol hidden.

  Would he have to use it? Maybe the pursuer might involve him in a shoot-out in the middle of the municipal library. All of that would surely turn up in the following day’s newspaper.

  His lips opened to say something triumphant, then he realised the unknown blond man had darted off.

  “Wh…?” How could the bastard have disappeared so fast? Only a second ago he’d been standing on that very spot!

  Hurriedly he scoured the other aisles for the man, but it was as if the earth had swallowed him. How in hell had he done that?! And how had Hyacinth allowed himself to be shafted so easily? Why hadn’t he been more cautious, dammit?! In a rage he tore his hair so hard it hurt.

  When he reached the stairs, Mr Wiplay suddenly stood next to him.

  From there they could see into the lower floor all the way to the reception area, but there was no sign of their pursuer.

  “That one is a bit craftier than us,” his mentor muttered and worsened the sense of failure agitating Hyacinth’s stomach. “He’s obviously done this sort of thing before.”

  “It seems s
o,” Hyacinth growled in an ill humour. “Why was he watching us?”

  “Maybe because we’re looking for the book that would shed some light on the necklace.”

  “Why didn’t he just take the book and check it out under a false name? He wouldn’t have to sneak around to spy and report on us.”

  “Maybe the book wasn’t that important to him, but we were.” The old man turned and stared at him with concern while he formed even deeper furrows in his already creased forehead.

  “What’s so special about us that he would spy on us?”

  “I don’t know, my boy. I don’t know.” For a while they enveloped themselves in silence. Then Mr Wiplay slapped him on the shoulder. “Come, let’s look for the book so we won’t go home empty-handed.”

  With a groan, Hyacinth turned away from looking toward the reception area where the young fellow was still sleeping peacefully. After a few steps he was struck by the notion that the receptionist must have also checked the blond man’s identification just as he had with them. Of course, he might have slept through a stranger gaining access to the library on the sly. But it couldn’t hurt to enquire at least. “Mr Wiplay, later we should ask at the front desk about a blond visitor. If we’re lucky, the receptionist might have seen the man and can reveal his name to us.”

  “Yes, yes, a good thought!” his teacher called out happily and seemed to be encouraged once again even though the prospects of success were highly unlikely.

  They continued walking back to the shelves in silence, and Hyacinth became absorbed in gloomy thoughts. With suspicion he observed two men walking toward them, although they certainly had nothing to do with their shadow. The one on the left looked extraordinary, with fine lines and long, light-blond hair but not tall enough to be their suspect.

  The one on the right was a young man in flamboyant clothes. A dark-red cape extended to his narrow hips, and his hands were adorned with elbow-length gloves of the same colour as his jet-black hair. Hyacinth felt he knew him from somewhere...

  As they approached the same spot, his gaze met the young man’s whose expression brightened. He stopped while the other man continued on – not without having considered his companion with a scrunched forehead. “Sir, I haven’t thanked you at all!”

  “For what?” Hyacinth replied in confusion.

  “You saved my Billy from Gavenish’s dogs,” came the enthusiastic and grateful response. The fellow pointed to the floor.

  Hyacinth recognised the black tomcat snuggling against the man’s skinny legs as it raised its tail and softly meowed. ”Oh, I remember now. You’re welcome.”

  “Gregory Merriweather,” the guy introduced himself and extended a hand, irritating Hyacinth by shaking his a bit too energetically. It didn’t seem to suit the obvious appearance of a dandy exhibited by the man. “Tell me your name and address, Sir. I’ll send something to you.”

  Taken by surprise, Hyacinth did as requested.

  A moment later, he wondered if it had been such a good idea. He tried to assure himself whether someone was listening to them but couldn’t detect any indication of eavesdropping.

  A loud whistle shrilled through the warm air. “Gregory. Come on,” came the unfriendly and more than commanding words from the young man’s companion.

  Gregory blushed, maybe because he was treated like a dog in their presence and could sense their surprise. “Excuse me, my master calls. Thank you, Sir, thank you.” With those words he hurried to catch up to the dislikeable light-blond man waiting for him at the top of the stairs. His hurried steps made his red cape flutter, and the black tomcat kept pace at his side.

  Hyacinth snorted with a shake of his head because the scene seemed so odd. Then the men disappeared from sight, and he, having noticed Mr Wiplay’s enquiring glance, started to explain. With embarrassment he didn’t exclude the reason why he’d been at City Hall. He concluded his narrative with a rasping entreaty. “Please, don’t tell Vrila anything about it. He’d be angry with me if he knew I went to Bishop behind his back.”

  “Oh, I can keep my mouth shut. He won’t hear a word about it from me; that I assure you.” Wiplay gave him an encouraging smile and they continued their work.

  *

  A short time later, though it seemed like an eternity to him, his teacher emitted a peculiar sound and closed a book. He held it tightly in his arms, and Hyacinth knew they had finally found something.

  “Up with you,” the old man whispered excitedly and nodded in the direction of the stairs that they left behind a few moments later.

  “What did you find, Sir?”

  “Outside, boy, outside. Ask the fellow at the reception desk about the blond man; I’ll put on my coat and leave before you.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? The bugger could be lying in wait. In that case it wouldn’t be advisable for us to be leaving separately.”

  “Nonsense, the man is long-gone. I’ll be waiting outside.”

  Hyacinth was smart enough not to argue with Mr Wiplay and nodded curtly. He approached the counter of the reception area while he heard behind him the tapping cane of his teacher – and friend whom he was worried about. “Pardon me, but could I demand your attention for a moment?” Softly he knocked on the wood to awaken the fellow who immediately looked up at him sleepily.

  “Yes?”

  “Someone was following my companion and me. A tall, blond man watched us for quite some time. He must have arrived here shortly after us. Do you perhaps remember such a person in a brown coat?”

  The young man scratched himself on a temple and appeared to be straining to remember. Finally, he made an apologetic grimace. “He must have just walked on in past me while I… was resting. I didn’t admit anyone fitting your description.“

  “Splendid.“ Hyacinth smirked and turned away without another word. With firm strides he went to the coat racks and looked for his, which now hung on a different hook from the one he’d left it on. The filthy swine must have searched through his pockets. To his relief, there had been nothing in them. Therefore, indirectly he’d pulled one over on the bastard – if only to a small extent.

  Well at least Mr Wiplay had apparently found out what the pendant on those damned necklaces was all about. That was encouraging, and he could square his shoulders before he stepped outside.

  The cold air slapped him in the face, would surely redden his ears on the way home. He was already looking forward to the upcoming breakfast with Vrila during which he could inform him that he had found out something. Yes, but what exactly? And where was Mr Wiplay?

  With his mentor nowhere to be seen, he became frantic. Had he after all been right in his foreboding? Had someone abducted the old man right from under his nose? For Heaven’s sake, that couldn’t be!

  His feverish glances swept over the masses of people scurrying about on the plaza. His teacher was not among them.

  Hyacinth sensed his heart beating loudly, heard the pounding in his ears, how it echoed in his head. His right hand felt around for the pistol, and at once he had the sensation of being a hunted criminal. Maybe the blond had been waiting for them to exit the library. Could he be standing somewhere between the old ladies in front of a display window? Or was he walking unnoticed in a group of young men? Was he standing behind one of the windows in one of the tall buildings? It would be an easy matter for him to get Hyacinth in his sights and bring his life to an abrupt end. The thought caused sweat to stream from every pore and forced a shudder to course down his spine. His breathing became unusually fast and pronounced. As he was about to turn around, someone grabbed for his upper arm. With a frightened gasp he tried to pull himself away and retreat. In doing so, he stumbled and might have fallen down the stairs had his assailant not kept a firm grip on him. The man uttered his name and called him back to the present.

  His eyes met those of his own husband, and he gulped. All at once he heard not only his own heartbeat, but everything around him again. The sight of his husband made his fear, which had co
me out of nowhere, disappear.

  In the next moment, he flung his arms around Vrila’s neck and pressed himself against his body. Vrila took him so protectively into his arms, as he had constantly done. Relieved, Hyacinth breathed easily and hid his face for a moment on his husband’s cold neck. He kissed him on the cheek then pulled back from him, attempting to smile, but only succeeding half way. Vrila seemed justifiably confused, but said nothing and stared at him with concern.

  Safe and sound, Mr Wiplay stood beside them and seemed to be shying from the crowd through which they had to walk to make it home. “We should be on our way. There are a few things we need to discuss.”

  When they started walking, Hyacinth took his husband by the hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s nearly noon, boy,” Vrila replied calmly, but something in his tone revealed that he was aggravated. “I was worried and went to Seymour’s store. But you weren’t there. I just hoped you were here. That’s why I came.“

  Ashamed, Hyacinth looked down at the cobblestones. “Please forgive me for not letting you know. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “As if I could sleep when you’re not lying next to me,” was the response. Harsh, of course, but that didn’t keep Hyacinth from being insanely happy to hear those words. He smiled to himself and unintentionally pressed Vrila’s fingers into his. For an instant, they looked into each other’s eyes, and a feeling overcame him that his smile could have the power to assuage his husband.

  “It was my fault, Gavrila. I pressured the boy into hurrying down here. You’ll soon understand why it was so important not to put it off,” Mr Wiplay interjected, walking two paces ahead of them, holding the book hidden inside his overcoat. What information must that volume contain? The suspense nearly overwhelmed Hyacinth.

  Other than the feeling of suspense, he experienced nervous anxiety. Would Mr Wiplay apprise Vrila about their stalker? He wouldn’t like that at all. He didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily and surely didn’t want to have to admit to him that he’d failed to prevent the bugger from escaping.