Why Is This Night Different From All Other Nights?

by Lemony Snicket

  CHAPTER NINE

  For the second time since I’d left the Far East Suite, death was in the room with me. I could feel it reaching hungrily toward me, from the masked man in the gray suit. I could not see his eyes behind his mask, but I felt them gazing at me as I knelt by the body of Ellington Feint. I pressed two fingers to her neck, just where it met her chin. It is the best place to feel a pulse. “Pulse” is a word for the throb of blood as it moves through someone’s veins. It has a certain rhythm, like a tune that is played, in one way or another, by every living creature. I could not look at Ellington as I checked for it. My eyes fell instead on one of the legs of the small table. It was scarred with scratches and small holes.

  “She’s dead,” I said finally, and covered her with my jacket. Hangfire didn’t move. He was good. He had waited until the right moment to sneak into the compartment. Perhaps it had been when Ellington had thrown her bag. The thump might have covered whatever tiny noises he made at the latch of the door. It should not have surprised me that he had managed to do this. He had managed to do many devious things in the short time I’d known him. But I was surprised that he was just standing there, instead of slipping back out of the compartment or walking toward me. He had the dart gun in his gloved hands, but it wasn’t even pointed in my direction. Perhaps it had no more darts in it. I couldn’t tell.

  “Lemony Snicket,” he said finally. “At last we meet.”

  His voice sounded like nothing. It was perhaps a little tired, as if he had imitated so many other voices that he could no longer remember what he really sounded like.

  “We’ve met before,” I said. “We met at the Sallis mansion, when you were posing as a butler. We spoke on the phone at the Lost Arms. We talked in Colonel Colophon’s room at the Colophon Clinic, and outside the Department of Education. And there have probably been other times, haven’t there? You’ve been right where I was, nearby or even right next to me, and I didn’t even know it.”

  He gave me a slow, small shrug. Villainy, I thought to myself, despite all the myths and fairy tales, despite all the stories in books and all the articles in newspapers, is not very mysterious at all. It is a person in a room. You’ve probably been in such a room yourself, and didn’t know you were in the presence of a villain. It is even possible you were alone in that room, and all the while had no idea that villainy was hiding there.

  “I suppose you want to know why I killed her,” Hangfire said.

  “I know why you killed her,” I said. “You had no more use for Ellington Feint. She helped you steal. She helped you kidnap. She helped you murder. And then your plan was through, and you were through with her. You forced her to do so many villainous things, and she never even knew exactly who she was helping.”

  “I never forced her,” Hangfire said. “No one can force Ellington Feint to do anything. I just gave her a push in the right direction. A human being is like any other animal, Snicket. If it wants something enough, it will do anything at all.”

  The way he said it felt very wrong, like Ellington pouring coffee and talking about murder. “Ellington Feint,” I said, “wanted to see her father again.”

  “The world is full of disappointment,” he said, and sat down on the bench. He had terrible posture, I noticed. Something had hunched him over, like a storm can ravage a tree. He looked down at the weapon in his hands, cradling it like a sleepy infant. “Do you know what the poison is made of?” he asked, almost to himself.

  “That’s the wrong question,” I told him.

  “Not at all,” Hangfire said, with a shake of his mask. “You can’t know the ending of a story unless you know how it begins. When this land was covered in water, a certain seaweed flourished, spreading its sticky stems and tiny flowers across the seafloor. The scent of the flowers attracted schools of tiny fish who knew how to eat the flowers without getting stuck on the stems. When Ink Inc. drained the sea away, the fish all perished, but the seaweed kept growing.”

  “The Clusterous Forest,” I said, with a glance out the window. “The train is approaching that terrible place.”

  “It’s not so terrible,” Hangfire said. “It’s simply a collection of plants that somehow found a way to survive. I spent a great deal of time there, learning the way of the lawless world. Even with the sea gone, the seaweed still grows flowers, and the flowers now attract a tiny bird, no bigger than that music box.” He pointed a gloved finger at the broken machinery on the table. “The trouble is, the birds never learned the fishes’ secret. They stand on the stems, and after eating the flowers they can’t fly away. They stick, bird after bird, and they stay stuck. The birds starve, Snicket. After a few weeks you can see their bare skeletons still clinging to the seaweed. It is not difficult to pluck the skeletons off, and to grind the bones to a fine powder. If you mix this powder with milk, you have a powerful poison.”

  “That’s a charming story,” I said. “You should put it into a book for toddlers.”

  Hangfire gave me the sigh that adults sigh at children all over the world. “You’re missing the point,” he said. “Do you think the birds are the victims of a terrible plot? Are the stems of the seaweed villainous? Are the tiny fish to blame for this grave situation, because they never learned to live without water? Of course not, Snicket. Each creature is simply trying to get what it wants, and to make its way through a difficult world.”

  I sat and looked at him. I sat and wished that what he said made no sense.

  “For years, I spent my days watching nature,” Hangfire said, “and when the trouble began in Stain’d-by-the-Sea, I lowered my eyes to the sea. I watched the behavior of the denizens of the deep, and I stepped outside the law to get what I wanted. A denizen, by the way, is a creature that belongs where it lives.”

  “I know what ‘denizen’ means,” I said.

  Here Hangfire chuckled. “Of course you do. You spend all your time in libraries, ignoring what’s going on in the outside world.”

  “I know what happened just outside the library in Stain’d-by-the-Sea,” I retorted. “I read all about it, Hangfire. You and your comrades rigged an explosion during the groundbreaking ceremony for the statue in honor of Colonel Colophon. That was the beginning of the Inhumane Society, wasn’t it? Since then, you’ve been lurking in the shadows and plotting against the good people of Stain’d-by-the-Sea.”

  “Good people?” Hangfire repeated. “Are you sure about that, Snicket? Would good people chop down a tree that was hundreds of years old, to erect a statue in honor of bloodshed? Would good people drain the sea, just so they could force ink out of the last few octopi? What do you think happened to the water that drained away? A whole valley was flooded. Countless creatures of Killdeer Fields were drowned, and an entire village was forced to leave their homes, just so the Knight family could add a few pennies to their ink fortune and the town could limp along for a little while longer.”

  “But you’re putting a stop to all that,” I said. “You’ve tricked people into helping this town destroy itself, haven’t you? Sally Murphy, Dr. Flammarion, Nurse Dander, Sharon Haines, Ellington Feint and her father—they all did their part to shut down Stain’d-by-the-Sea for good. They didn’t always know what they were doing, any more than the schoolchildren at the Wade Academy know their part in your plan, and when they’re no longer of use, you get rid of them. But thanks to them, there will be no more books, no more newspapers, no more libraries, and no more librarians. When your plan is completed, we’ll all be denizens of the natural, lawless world. Is that about right?”

  Hangfire didn’t answer. He still had the dart gun in his hand, but it was pointed downward, as if the whole thing were none of his concern. So I slowly picked up Ellington’s bag from the floor and watched his eyes widen in the mask. I handed him the tube and he fell upon it like a predator.

  “The Bombinating Beast,” he said, in the wildest voice I’d heard from him, but when he unzipped the bag and stared into it, he didn’t say anything.

  “It’s
not there, Hangfire,” I told him. “You killed Ellington for nothing.”

  “She betrayed me,” Hangfire said softly. I watched the bag shiver in his hands.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Where is it?” he asked.

  “That’s what you’ve asked yourself, over and over,” I said. “Isn’t that right, Hangfire? That’s the question you’ve asked yourself all those days and nights. You lurked in the shadows, thinking of the old myths and superstitions. Night after night you dreamed of this scheme, you and your associates in the Inhumane Society. You hid at Colophon Clinic, and you hid at Wade Academy. You rang the bell at Offshore Island, and you committed theft, and kidnapping, and arson, and murder. And night after night you were disappointed, without that statue in your grasp. But tonight will be different, won’t it?”

  Hangfire asked the question that is printed on the cover of this book.

  “Because tonight your scheme finally comes to an end,” I said.

  Hangfire gave a small, wheezy laugh from behind his mask. “You and your little army of volunteers will boldly and bravely capture me and turn me over to the authorities when this train reaches the city, and I’ll spend the rest of my days as a denizen of prison while you repair the world. Is that about right?”

  “That’s exactly wrong,” I said. “You’ve concocted a beautiful plan, Hangfire. I’m not going to mangle it.”

  He turned his mask to me. “But V.F.D. stands for the true human tradition of justice and literature,” he said. “I thought you’d find a lawless world an ugly place.”

  “It is ugly,” I said, and laughed unpleasantly. “So is the carpet in this compartment. But I’m not going to fix it. Listen, Hangfire. Stain’d-by-the-Sea hasn’t done me any favors. I’ve had nothing but trouble since the day I arrived, and I’ll suffer no more of it. I’ve got a sister in jail and a suitcase full of books I’ve been meaning to read at the train station in the city. The world is beyond repair, and I’m not going to muck around in a miserable town trying to throw together some justice.”

  “I’m confused,” Hangfire said, but he sounded more confused than that.

  “It is confusing,” I agreed. “Ellington Feint said she’d do anything and everything to get her father out of your clutches. She managed to steal that statue and keep it hidden, biding her time until she could exchange it for her father’s freedom. But maybe she did betray you. Maybe she doesn’t have it anymore. Maybe she gave it to somebody, a friend, perhaps, for safekeeping.”

  Lying does not come naturally to me, not lying of this sort. I had to keep my voice steady, and my eyes locked with Hangfire’s masked and blinking eyes. And I had to look like I might be lying. I couldn’t look like I couldn’t possibly be lying, because what kind of people look like that?

  “You’re lying,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his glove, “just like all the others. I noticed some black cardboard went missing, and then suddenly your friends started offering me the statue. I suppose that firefighting niece made some decoys.”

  “This is no decoy,” I said. “I have the real thing—the statue made of dark wood, with hollow eyes and a little slit on the bottom covered in crinkly paper.”

  “It won’t do you any good,” Hangfire said. “You don’t know how to use it.”

  “I’m not interested in using it,” I said, “except as something to trade. Ellington was going to trade it for her father. I’m going to trade it for my chaperone. I’ll give you the statue and you’ll make sure Theodora goes free.”

  “Theodora?” Hangfire repeated in astonishment. “You’re trading the Bombinating Beast for the freedom of that ridiculous woman?”

  “Ridiculous or not, that is my offer.”

  “I don’t have to take offers from a child,” Hangfire said, and gestured with his dart gun. “I could just take the statue and leave you dead on the ground.”

  “But you can’t find it,” I reminded him.

  “Maybe I’ll just tear this train apart,” Hangfire said. “I have a number of associates here who can make sure I get my hands on it, and that everyone who knows its secret is slain.”

  “I have associates here, too,” I said. “And you can’t kill everyone who knows your secret. Quite a few people have read Caviar: Salty Jewel of the Tasty Sea.”

  “You haven’t,” Hangfire said. “It burned to ashes before you could finish it.”

  “I didn’t need to read it,” I said. “I don’t need to discover the secrets in the book or in the statue. I don’t care what your scheme is, exactly. I just want Theodora out of Cell Two. Do we have a deal?”

  Hangfire lifted one hand, and for a moment I thought he was going to remove his mask. But he simply took off one glove, finger by finger, and shook my hand. He had a very good handshake, strong and solid. I made mine better when I felt his.

  “We’ll leave separately,” I said, “and meet shortly in the Officers’ Lounge. I’ll give you the statue and you’ll let Theodora out of the prison car.”

  “How will I do that?”

  “I’m sure Stew Mitchum can convince his parents to help you,” I said. “He’s the one who got Theodora locked up in the first place.”

  “We’d better hurry,” Hangfire said, and pointed out the window. “Soon The Thistle of the Valley will be in lawless territory.”

  “I’ll go fetch the statue,” I said, “as soon as you’re gone.”

  Hangfire nodded, and then looked down at Ellington Feint, under my coat. “What should we do about that?”

  “That?” I repeated. “That’s not our problem, is it?”

  He stared at her for another moment. “I didn’t want to kill her, you know,” he said.

  “I understand,” I said. “You’re a human being, and a human being is like any other animal. If it wants something enough, it will do anything and everything.”

  He nodded and regloved his hand before unlatching the door. “I’ve underestimated you, Snicket.”

  I looked at him. “Yes, you have,” I said, and he went out. I listened to the sound of my own breath, heavy and quick, as if I’d emerged from a deep dive into the ocean. I waited for a little while that felt long. The train rattled and heaved on its tracks, and turned a corner so even the pale rocks were gone in the dark. There was nothing out there now, absolutely nothing. I let nothing rush by, and then finally I knelt down and lifted my coat from the sprawled shape of the girl with black hair.

  “You can get up now,” I said, and Ellington opened her eyes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  She held out her hand and I lifted her up. It really was an ugly carpet, but the sight of Ellington Feint, alive and well, was anything but ugly.

  “How did you know I was alive?” she asked.

  “That’s the wrong question,” I said, remembering the rhythm of her pulse against my fingers. “The question is, why were you pretending to be dead?”

  Ellington gave me a sly smile. “I saw Hangfire come in,” she said, “but he fired the dart gun before I could say anything. The dart missed me by inches, landing right there, in the leg of the table. I thought quickly and fell to the ground with my hands on my neck. I managed to grab the dart on the way down, so it looked like he’d done as he’d planned.”

  “That’s quite a trick,” I said. “Do you really think you fooled him?”

  “You fooled him too,” she said. “It looks like he’s going to free your chaperone.”

  “I had to think quickly,” I said. “Tonight, we finally have an opportunity to defeat Hangfire once and for all. There’s only one person on this train who might stop us from stopping him.”

  “Who?”

  “You.”

  She blinked her green eyes. “Me?”

  I said “you” again.

  “Why?”

  “You know why. You’ve betrayed me, and Stain’d-by-the-Sea, time and time again, to stand with Hangfire and his treachery.”

  She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it to stop saying it.
The compartment rattled.

  “But now you know just how wild and wicked Hangfire truly is. You said he wouldn’t kill you, and look what he did. Hangfire tricks people into helping with his plan and then gets rid of them when he’s done.”

  Ellington nodded sadly, and looked down at the carpet. The ruins of her father’s music box, spilled in a small heap, did not make the carpet any less ugly. She leaned down and picked up the photograph. “My father’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked me. “Hangfire got rid of him. He sent Dr. Flammarion and Nurse Dander to jail. He threw Colonel Colophon out a window, and he drowned that actress in the basement. And when my father was of no more use to him, Hangfire killed him. Didn’t he?”

  “I’m not sure,” I lied.

  “I am,” she said, and I watched a tear slide down her cheek as she looked at the man with the gentle smile. “He’s probably been dead for a long time. Hangfire has been tricking me all along.”

  “The world is full of disappointment,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said, “I heard him say that. And every creature is simply trying to get what it wants, and to make their way through a difficult world. Do you believe that?”

  “No,” I said. “There’s more than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like good books,” I said, “and good people. And good librarians, who are almost both at once.”