* * * *
I have drunk into the night. I am sitting in my chair in my room, and I am in darkness. My electricity has been disconnected.
I finally decide to look.
I climb out of the chair, and I fumble for candles. I find them, and I light two. I stand them on the bare wood of the floor. By their light, I lay the school daybook and my journal on the floor between them.
Kneeling, I open the school daybook and I find the entry of three days previous.
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
I turn back the pages of the daybook until I again find January 31 of last year.
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
I open my journal. I turn to the pages where I have written down the dates of the other Duchamp Killer murders.
I turn back the pages of the school daybook until I find the corresponding date of the preceding Duchamp Killer murder—it is three months earlier than January 31 of last year.
I read the daybook entry:
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
I turn back the pages of the daybook until I find the next preceding date of a murder.
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
I turn back through nine years and find more of the dates.
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
MONSIEUR ALICE IS ABSENT
I tally my findings.
Five of the Duchamp Killer murders were committed on weekends, or not in academic terms, and there are no school daybook entries for these dates. On the dates of all other eleven of the sixteen killings, Monsieur Alice had been absent from Bouchard.
* * * *
I wait. Gradually, children enter the room and take up their seats. They glance at me, offer smiles, and then concern themselves with other interests.
When the classroom is full, Monsieur Alice enters and closes the door. He sees me and gives me a curious stare. He probably wonders why I am again seated at the rear of his class. He says nothing. He looks about the room and quietly counts the children. The children prepare their papers and pencils.
I take my pen from my bag.
Monsieur Alice takes a piece of chalk and writes on the blackboard. He writes la lune. He explains to the children that the moon is smaller than the earth we live on, which is why it is held in the earth's pull of gravity. He draws a circle, and then a smaller circle next to it. The moon cannot float away, not even if it would want to.
A child asks if people live on the moon. Monsieur Alice explains that the moon is a wasteland of rock and dust and that there is no air to breathe and no water to drink. He explains that explorers from the United States of America are visiting the moon, and that they have to wear special clothes when they are there.
One of the children giggles. A second joins the first, and then another. Monsieur Alice does not understand why the children are starting to laugh, until he looks at me.
I have used my pen, and I have drawn a mustache and goatee onto my face.
Monsieur Alice stares at me.
For a moment, he is frozen in place, and the children's giggling is replaced in my ears by the sound of my deep breaths.
Monsieur Alice suddenly lunges across the room.
"Get out."
He grabs me by my arm and drags me up out of the chair. I feel strength in his grip. His hand clamps to me like a vice. He drags me trippingly to the door. At the door, he pushes me out into the hallway. He gives me a look of absolute anger, and he slams the door.
* * * *
I walk the streets back to my room. People stare as they pass by. My face is still disfigured with ink.
I cross over the Pont des Morts, and I stare down into the river. I have stared at its waters many times. It has soothed me on bitter days. For the first time in my life, my worthless life, I consider jumping into it.
* * * *
There is a knock on my door.
I am drunk. I lie on the floor of my room with a candle near my head. It is dark. I have no notion of the time.
There is another knock, and I hear the door handle turn. The door opens—I hadn't locked it.
Looking up, I see Monsieur Alice. He enters and closes the door. He stares down at me. I see the candlelight reflect in the lenses of his glasses. He removes his hat. His stillness of earlier has returned.
"I want to become art,” I announce.
Monsieur Alice walks out of my sight. I hear his shoes on the floor. I feel the vibration of his footsteps. I hear other noises, which I cannot reconcile.
"Make me into art.” My voice is broken from my intoxication.
I cannot now hear Monsieur Alice, and I question the reality of his having entered my room. Maybe I am dreaming, and I will soon wake in my bed.
Monsieur Alice kneels alongside me. I hear the sound of an object being placed on the floor to the side of my head.
I close my eyes. I am ready to die.
I hear dripping.
A sponge smothers my face. It is filled with warm water, and I feel the water run down about my head and to the floor.
Monsieur Alice is wiping my face. He is cleaning me with soap and water. He is gently wiping away the ink of my mustache and goatee.
He leans down to me and speaks in a whisper. “How does a trainee teacher, no more than a child, learn what many minds have sought to know?"
"The school daybook."
I look up into his eyes.
He hadn't thought of the school daybook. It was, until this moment, an insignificant object, of no more meaning than a piece of chalk. I can see it now troubles him deeply.
"Don't worry.” I reach up and take hold of his arm. “I've burnt it, and I've dropped the ashes into the river."
Monsieur Alice dries my face with a cloth.
"I will tell no one."
He takes my hand and holds it for a moment. He places it to my chest. He kisses my forehead. He blows out the candle, and I fall asleep.
* * * *
I walk to Bouchard. It is the afternoon and I am ill. I must speak to him. I must see him. He has entered my blood, and I want to tell him this.
Monsieur Alice is absent.
The stern woman in the school office is pale and stricken. Her hand shakes as she holds her cigarette. She tells me Monsieur Alice was found dead this morning in Montmartre. He had been called away in the night to visit his mother, but had never arrived. His body was discovered in the Seine at daybreak. A mustache and goatee had been inked onto his face and his throat had been slit.
I am cold.
I walk back to my room. I no longer want to drink.
Copyright © 2010 Stephen Ross
[Back to Table of Contents]
Department: COMING IN NOVEMBER 2010
THREE STRIKES by Steven Gore
THE WRITING WORKSHOP by Janice Law
TEN THOUSAND COLD NIGHTS by James Lincoln Warren
* * * *
Linda Landrigan: Editor
Laurel Fantauzzo: Assistant Editor
Susan Mangan: Vice President, Design and Production
Victoria Green: Senior Art Director
Cindy Tiberi: Production Artist
Laura Tulley: Senior Production Manager
Jennifer Cone: Production Associate
Abigail Browning: Director of Marketing, Brand Licensing and E-Commerce
Bruce W. Sherbow: Senior Vice President, Sales, Marketing and Information Technology
Sandy Marlowe: Circulation Services
Robin DiMeglio: Advertising Sales Manager
Peter Kanter: Publisher
www.TheMysteryPlace.com
[Back to Table of Contents]
DIRECTORY OF SERVICES
Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine
* * * *
EDITORIAL OFFICES
267 Broadway, 4th Floor
New York, NY 10007-2352
* * * *
SUBSCRIPTION SERVICES
(800) 220-7443
/>
www.themysteryplace.com
* * * *
CHANGE OF ADDRESS & SUBSCRIPTION INQUIRIES
www.themysteryplace.com
Send your current mailing label and new address to:
AHMM
6 Prowitt Street
Norwalk, CT 06855-1220
Or e-mail us at:
[email protected]
* * * *
BACK ISSUES
Send check for $6.50 per single issue, or $9.50 per double issue (Add and additional $1.50 for delivery outside the U.S.) to AHMM at:
6 Prowitt Street, Suite 100
Norwalk, CT 06855-1220
Please specify which issue you are ordering.
* * * *
SUBRIGHTS & PERMISSIONS
[email protected]
Or fax inquiries to (203) 854-5962
* * * *
NEWSSTAND SALES
Dell Magazines, Department NS
6 Prowitt Street
Norwalk, CT 06855-1220
(203) 866-6688
[email protected]
* * * *
ADVERTISING REPRESENTATIVE
Robin DiMeglio, Advertising Sales Manager
6 Prowitt Street
Norwalk, CT 06855-1220
Tel: (203) 866-6688 * Fax: (203) 854-5962
[email protected]
(Display & Classified Advertising)
* * * *
Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine (ISSN:0002-5224), Vol. 55, No. 10, October 2010. Published monthly except for combined January/February and July/August double issues by Dell Magazines, a division of Crosstown Publications. Annual subscription $55.90 in the U.S.A. and possessions, $65.90 elsewhere, payable in advance in U.S. funds (GST included in Canada). Subscription orders and correspondence regarding subscriptions should be sent to 6 Prowitt Street, Norwalk, CT 06855. Or, to subscribe, call 1-800-220-7443. Editorial Offices: 267 Broadway, 4th Floor, New York, NY 10007-2352. Executive Offices: 6 Prowitt Street, Norwalk, CT 06855. Periodical postage paid at Norwalk, CT and additional mailing offices. Canadian postage paid at Montreal, Quebec, Canada Post International Publications Mail, Product Sales Agreement No. 40012460. © 2010 by Dell Magazines, a division of Crosstown Publications, all rights reserved. Dell is a trademark registered in the U.S. Patent Office. The stories in this magazine are all fictitious, and any resemblance between the characters in them and actual persons is completely coincidental. Reproduction or use, in any manner, of editorial or pictorial content without express written permission is prohibited. Submissions must be accompanied by a self-addressed stamped envelope. The publisher assumes no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts or artwork. POSTMASTER: Send changes to Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, 6 Prowitt Street, Norwalk, CT 06855. In Canada return to: World Color St. Jean, 800 Blvd. Industrial, St. Jean, Quebec J3B 8G4. GST #R123054108.
* * *
Visit www.dellmagazines.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
AHMM, October 2010 Page 15