Jump City: Apprentice

by MK Alexander

  “Seems plenty suspicious to me.”

  “Suspicious?” Valenti asked.

  “Something bad is going on, I can tell you that much. All I know is people check in and they never check out.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I watch the trains most everyday.”

  “And what would be your solution then?”

  “I don’t know… a sawed-off shotgun maybe.”

  Valenti took a sip of coffee then put his cup down. “Very well, I’ll get you inside…” he finally relented. “But you are to take no action whatsoever until you’ve spoken with me directly. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “No harm can come to any of the patients.”

  “You’ve got my word on that.”

  “Alright then. Report to the hospital tonight, nine o’clock.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes… the late shift.” Valenti paused. “You’ll have to contend with Lothar, you realize?”

  “Lothar?”

  “Mallinger’s man… a great beast of a fellow.”

  “Oh, I’ll think of something.”

  ***

  I was a bit early to the hospital, having arranged to meet Elsie on her break. She whisked me down the corridor and took me to the nurse’s lounge. We had the place to ourselves.

  “What on earth do you need these for?” she asked and handed me a small tin box.

  “Lothar…” I smiled. “And please thank Daisy for me.”

  “Actually, Mrs Lovely baked them.”

  “I’ll have to thank her then.”

  “It’s so funny to have you here.” Elsie took my hand.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Working at the hospital.”

  “Well, it’s only temporary.”

  “So you’ll go back with Mr Woods?”

  “At the Chronicle? Hmm, I might.”

  “Still, I like it…I like having you here,” Elsie gave me a smile but it collapsed quickly. “Oh Patrick, I’m having such a terrible time of it.” She put her head on my shoulder.

  “Why, what’s happened?”

  “My mind is in a terrible muddle… I called Doctor Valenti… Professor Mallinger, and then later, Mallinger became Valenti… It’s such an odd slip of the tongue. Now they’re both angry with me.”

  “They couldn’t be more different.” I laughed a little.

  “I know, that’s just the thing. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  By nine fifteen, I was sitting in Professor Mallinger’s expansive office right beside Lothar the goliath. Neither man could help but look menacing; Lothar with his bullet shaped head and lobotomy scars, and Mallinger seated behind a banker’s lamp, his face cast in diabolical shadow. The eye patch didn’t help matters. It was Mortimer though, no doubt. He was far older than I remembered, and this version didn’t seem to recognize me at all.

  “This is Lothar… Lothar, this is Patrick,” the professor introduced us. “You are not to hurt him— understood?”

  “Patrick, friend.”

  “Yes, yes. Allow him into the pool room. He will do all the cleaning from now on. Is that understood?”

  “Patrick sweeps, not Lothar.”

  “Alright… any questions?”

  “Jump tonight?”

  “No, not tonight, Lothar…” Mallinger gave him a glare. “Very well, off with you both now.” He dismissed us with the wave of his hand and I followed the giant to the elevator.

  ***

  I first spotted Murray alone and dejected in his cell. He heard me calling and put on his thick glasses. “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “One hundred and eighty-four days.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “No more questions, please. I’m very tired now.”

  “It’s okay, Murray… I’m here to get you out.”

  “Get me out?” he asked and came to the door. “Tonight?”

  “No, we have to wait a little… What’s been happening here?”

  “Nothing good.” He stared at me. “They just keep asking me questions about Smedley, and MacArthur, and Giuseppe.”

  “Who?”

  “That Reverend Drummond,” Murray said.

  “What about them?” I asked.

  “Well, didn’t they take over the government?”

  “Not that I know of…” I smiled. “Nothing to fear but fear itself.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “I also heard they were searching for the gold.”

  “Gold?”

  “There’s a pirate’s treasure buried up in the dunes.”

  “Really?” I asked and wondered how that rumor got started. “Tell you what, Murray, if we get out of here in one piece, I’ll show you where to dig.”

  “Seriously?” he asked and stared at me. “Say… do I know you?”

  “Probably not. I’m a friend of Madeline’s.”

  “Madeline…” he said and sighed. “Where is she?” he asked, seeming anxious.

  “She’s fine… safe and sound. Just hang in there for a day or two— okay?”

  In the next cell over, I found Brigadier Thomas, sadly stripped of his uniform, though still looking fairly young. He wasn’t quite sure who I was at first when I stuck my face up to the metal grate. Finally, he seemed to recognize me. “Thank heavens you’re here. I’d given up all hope.” He rushed over to the door. “Where’s Tractus?”

  “On his way.”

  “They were waiting for me at the temple, a whole gang of Drummonds, and they took me to this place…”

  I asked him the same question I asked Murray: “How long have you been here?”

  “Since I saw you last.”

  “When was that?”

  “End of February, wasn’t it?”

  I tried to think how that was possible. Didn’t I see them both just a few weeks ago? There is only one timeline, I reminded myself silently. “I’ll get you out of here, but we have to wait for Fynn.”

  “When?”

  “A few days at worst…”

  “Where’s that lumbering giant gone?” the brigadier asked.

  “Oh… busy eating gingerbread men.”

  With Lothar otherwise occupied, I made my way down the narrow corridor towards the double doors into the planetarium. I peeked through the porthole though couldn’t see much; most importantly, no one seemed to be inside. I had been here before, I dimly recalled, yet I remembered the place as a ruin. Now it was in its full splendor.

  Above me was a sweeping dome some thirty feet high. It enclosed a perfectly circular room and glowed along its bottom edge with a soft blue halo. The ceiling depicted the night sky in constellations, hundreds at least, each painstakingly labelled and each with a tiny inlaid light. Someone had spent a small fortune on this place. The craftsmanship was obvious everywhere, with the whole room meticulously tiled, and the deep pool at the center perfectly constructed.

  Below the gently sloshing water, I could see a stunning mosaic on the bottom of the pool: a huge, intricate sunburst in the middle, and elaborate compass directions along the edges. Light from underneath played against the waves and made dark shadows on the wall, so much so, I thought the ghosts had returned.

  On the far side of the room, I saw a large bank of electrical switches with gauges and lights. I couldn’t begin to guess what they did, but got the idea this place took a lot of juice to run. The whole apparatus reminded me of something out of a Buck Rogers adventure, and I fully expected to see bolts of electricity arcing between transformers.

  From a small side door, a man wearing goggles and dressed in a heavy apron stepped in and started over towards the electrical controls. I recognized him immediately. I was shocked and the word traitor leapt to mind.

  “You there, orderly— you’re not supposed to be in here this time of night. What do you think you’re doing?” he called to me.

  “What the hell— Edmund? You’re
working for Mortimer now?”

  The man walked along the edge of the pool, closer to me. “Do I know you?”

  “It’s me, Patrick.”

  “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

  “Maybe not, but you gave me this.” I showed him the pocket watch.

  “Mercy me.” He looked at the device. “I gave you this? When?”

  “Maybe a week ago… When Kaiser was murdered at the library.”

  “I must know you then, mustn’t I?”

  I nodded. “I’m Fynn’s friend.”

  “Fynn, you say. Is he here?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, I’m not working for Mortimer. Not willingly, mind you. He’s got Pavel, you see…”

  “Who?”

  “Mr Mekanos.” Edmund glanced around furtively as if someone might be listening. “They’ve captured him and sent him off to the Flatlands.”

  “What goes on in this room?”

  “Can’t say I’m exactly sure yet.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Since August.”

  “Were you kidnapped?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly use that word. Shanghaied perhaps? Blackmailed?” Edmund smiled.

  “Wait a second— did Fynn ask you to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Come here… keep tabs on Mortimer.”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  “Sounds probable, too,” I replied.

  “I’m not supposed to say…”

  * * *

  chapter thirty-seven

  dinner plans

  “Thanks for helping, Patrick.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Doctor Valenti is happy too, I’m sure.”

  “How’s your head today?”

  “My head?” Elsie asked and touched her hair. “What do you mean?”

  “That slip of the tongue? Mistaking Mallinger for Valenti?”

  “Oh that… seems it’s getting worse. Now it’s Roy and Ray.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they used to work at the hospital as orderlies, I’m sure of it. But suddenly they’re gone. They wouldn’t have just left without saying good bye at least… Odd though, no one I talk to seems to remember them.”

  “That’s very strange, Elsie.”

  “You’re telling me.” She sighed a bit nervously.

  “Is that who I’m replacing?”

  “What? Wait, you remember them too?”

  “Sort of. Who am I filling in for, Roy or Ray?”

  Elsie burst out laughing. “Definitely Roy.”

  We took bicycles to Doctor Valenti’s house in Cedar Bluffs. It was just north of the village but up a steep hill. Elsie made it much farther than I did before we both had to stop and push the rest of the way. We passed a flock of birds skittering across the high meadow. “They’ve come early this year,” Elsie said.

  “What?”

  “Those birds. They come every fall, but I’ve never seen them this early in the season.”

  “Grackles?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are they grackles?”

  “No idea, just funny little black birds.”

  The Valenti residence was impressive to say the least, and I guessed somewhere near Eleanor’s would-be old house. It certainly seemed too big for a single occupant, with various dormers and a widow’s walk around the entire east face of the third floor.

  “Doc Valenti lives here all alone?”

  “Yes, very sad… a widower all these years. His wife died of Spanish Flu.”

  “When was that?”

  “Don’t you remember it all? Well, I was just a girl.” Elsie sighed. “We all lost loved ones…”

  We were met by Gretchen the housekeeper who could have easily been Greta’s sister, the hospital receptionist. She was suspicious and bordering on rude until Doctor Valenti came to the door in an apron and greeted us warmly. He dusted off his hands and embraced.

  “Patrick and Miss Everest, I am so very happy you’ve come. Thank you for helping me today.” Valenti was his usual jovial self. He smiled and said, “Please come through…” leading us into a large kitchen where the evening meal was in the middle of some serious preparation.

  The courses had been laid out meticulously and the doctor took pains to make us understand which was served when. “As soon as the guests arrive and gather, you’ll please serve hors d’oeuvres: fresh mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto, then, these pimento canopies you see here.”

  “How did you find all this?” I asked.

  Valenti laughed. “Everything is imported from Fairhaven… and beyond. Finding enough olive oil was the most challenging task.” He continued, “Once we are seated, you can bring out the bread sticks, here… next, the caesar salad, there… And then the soup— which reminds me—” He stopped in mid-sentence and peered into a very large bowl. “Ah, yes, delicious,” Valenti said as he took a small spoonful. “I’m just putting the gazpacho in the ice box.”

  “Gazpacho?” Elsie asked.

  “A kind of soup— not Italian, strictly speaking, but my mother was Portuguese.” Valenti smiled. “I thought it would be the perfect first course for such a warm evening.”

  “Soup?”

  “Of course, my dear, a dish best served cold. I do hope I’ve made enough.” Valenti paused. “The main course has yet to be cooked.” He laughed a bit, then joyfully ran down the rest of the menu: “Penne with pesto, asparagi tostato— that’s toasted asparagus— And for dessert, Espresso and caramel Budino.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A kind of custard,” Doctor Valenti explained. “Veal Scaloppine is the main course… which I will prepare at the last moment.”

  “It all sounds delicious, so exotic— and everything ends in a vowel,” Elsie said.

  “Yes… well, first I am treating you both to a special lunch, as dinner is still some hours away.” Doctor Valenti nodded. “Please, sit down at the table.”

  Something was baking in the oven and smelled delicious. Valenti opened the door and peeked inside. I looked over his shoulder. “This is what we call Neapolitan—”

  “Pizza,” I finished his sentence.

  He turned and looked at me. “Patrick, you never cease to amaze me. How did you know?”

  “I’ve had it before… once or twice.”

  Elsie made a face. “What is it?” she asked.

  After lunch, Doctor Valenti gave us a quick tour of his home. This may have well been the birth of Art Deco. Every room was ornamented in rich color and with bold geometric shapes. There was an underlying symmetry here as well. What furniture I did notice was done in stainless steel, chrome, and leather. Any wood was inlaid, and lacquered. Spotting a beautiful grand piano in the living room, I asked, “Will you be playing tonight?”

  “Hmm?” Valenti turned to me, a bit distracted.

  “The piano.”

  “No, I won’t be coaxed into playing. There are no great music lovers among the guests.”

  “And who’s on the list?”

  “Sheriff Durbin, Commissioner Mears, the Mayor, Mr Higgins, Professor Mallinger, Reverend Drummond and Doctor Burtan.”

  “I think I know them all… Um, didn’t Sheriff Durbin mention this doctor before?”

  “He may have…” Valenti replied vaguely.

  “Men only…? Elsie asked, a bit surprised.

  “It just happened to work out that way. It was not my intention, Miss Everest.” Valenti paused a bit awkwardly. “I have uniforms for you both. Hope you don’t mind, but it’s a rather elegant affair tonight. Gretchen can show you where to change.”

  “You’ve seen me in mine, now I get to see you in yours,” Elsie whispered as we climbed the stairs behind the enormous housekeeper.

  “Pardon?”

  “A uniform, Patrick,” she snickered. “I like a man in uniform.”

  “A waiter is not exactly what I had in mind.”

  ***

&n
bsp; I wouldn’t say Doctor Valenti looked dashing when he appeared in his very formal tuxedo. No amount of tailoring could disguise his roly-poly figure, but with a white carnation in his lapel and spats on his shoes, he seemed ready for anything.

  The guests began arriving just after seven o’clock. Professor Mallinger had a well trimmed beard and scraggily white hair under his top hat. He was quite tall but stooped, and leaned heavily on a very familiar cane with a jackal’s head. He glanced at me through one good eye and with some small recognition, but I was just an orderly or a waiter tonight. His thin smile held little comfort.

  At his heels was the Reverend Drummond. This version was clean shaven and in his late thirties, dressed not as formally, despite a religious collar. I didn’t get a good look at his belt buckle. He ignored me completely, though he was unmistakable as well. Mears gave me a look of curiosity, as if he might recall me dimly, but I could tell he was not sure at all. He followed his colleagues inside.

  Doctor William Gregory Burtan arrived a bit later and alone. He was as well dressed as the others, a man with slick hair, lots of jewelry, and probably in his mid-thirties. Percy and Higgins came together, with the former looking rather grand in his tuxedo. Higgins, less so; he seemed a bit uncomfortable and his suit was rumpled. They both gave me smiles and a big greeting.

  Valenti was immediately anxious about Durbin’s non-arrival. “It is a great shame that the Sheriff has not yet joined us. Do either of you happen to know when he’s coming?” Valenti asked Percy and Higgins. Neither man knew. He turned to Elsie. “Might you try your sister and see where he is?”

  “I’ve called Daisy already,” she replied then smiled. “But I’ll try again.”

  Valenti took me aside. “So, Mr Jardel, have you discovered any nefarious activities at Saint Albans?”

  “Not yet.”

  ***

  I only gave Elsie half my attention as we stood idly by the sideboard. The guests were milling about near the bar, drinking a lot, and eating appetizers. Gradually they started to seat themselves at the table.

  “Patrick, are you even listening to me?” she whispered.

  “Sorry, Elsie… I was listening to them.”

  “Why?” she said a bit sarcastically then giggled. “I think they’re all very drunk now.”