by Gene Wolfe
After lunch came proof positive that Elaine Hollander, also known as Mommy and my Aunt Elaine, had come through with flying colors, plus talking a blue streak. “My darling, my poor little darling, you’re conscious! Do you like my flowers? I was here half the night, did they tell you? How are you feeling? Isn’t it just too awful, too terribly awfully terrible!”
“Right on,” I said. Then—first things first—“You got a roll of Life Savers in that little bag? Chiclets? Breath mints? Anything?”
“No, dearest, nothing but cigarettes, and I know you’re trying to stop smoking.”
“Gimme a cigarette,” I told her. “I’m going to eat it. As soon as you go, I’m going to eat the flowers, too.” I looked at them when I said that, and all of a sudden I didn’t feel funny or even hungry anymore.
“Well, you really shouldn’t, you know. I shouldn’t either. It’s terribly hard on the complexion.”
She lit me up. It was my first in three days, and though I’ve never been a heavy smoker (half a pack a day was my limit at the worst), it tasted pretty damn good. I took a big drag. “Elaine, where’d you get it?”
“Get what, dearest?” She couldn’t be that dumb. She was playing for time.
“That goddamn box. By now they must have asked you fifty times already.”
“You don’t think it was the box, too, Holly dearest?” She sounded hurt. Sounding hurt’s one of her very top talents, and she was so good I nearly felt sorry for her myself.
“Certainly it was in the box. It had to be in the box. Where the hell else could it have been?”
“Anywhere else.” Elaine waved her hand so her rings made a little rainbow dazzle on the wall. “Underneath the platform, or in that man Lief’s tool box. Personally, I think that man was wearing a belt of dynamite, just waiting for a chance to blow up where everyone would see him.”
“Larry Lief?” I couldn’t believe this.
“The other man—the one who won. You must have seen him raise his arms just before the bang … .”
“No, I didn’t,” I told her. I could smell her perfume over everything; over the flowers, over the smoke from our cigarettes, and the hospital smell. And somehow it was shrinking everything, bringing the bomb and the broken glass and the blood and death and confusion down to the level of what-can-I-wear-for-bridge.
“Well, he did. I was watching and I saw him, and hundreds of other people must have seen him, too.”
“Elaine, it had to be in the box.”
She shook her head positively. “Holly, dearest, that box hadn’t been opened in a great many years. If there had been a bomb in it, it would’ve gone off long ago. Or it wouldn’t work anymore.”
“I don’t think they do that, Elaine. They just sit there waiting. Where’d you get it?”
“I really must be running now.” She got up, smoothing her clothes. “On Wells, I believe. Or perhaps it wasn’t—it was a shop I’d never been to before. Bill might know … .
“Holly dearest, you can’t imagine what a state everything’s in. All those valuable antiques, and everyone just swarming over them.”
Elaine bustled out. I took a couple more drags on the butt and was grinding it to death in a little tin ashtray just as the nurse came in again. She smiled and said, “Do we think we could stand one more visitor? Our uncle’s here.”
How Blue Got the Job
I froze. I didn’t want to say yes and I couldn’t say no. The nurse smiled again, about the same way she would have at a cute knickknack. “He seems like such an interesting man, and your sister—was that your sister?—is perfectly lovely! Where does she buy her clothes?”
I stared at her, and wow did I ever feel like making some smart-ass remark; but all I could think of was here I am waiting for a crazy killer and you want to hear about Lord & Taylor.
Then Aladdin Blue came through the door. He had on slacks and an old sportcoat, which for him was most likely dressed up. What’s more, he was carrying ( I could hardly believe it) one of those little one-pound boxes of candy.
My brain unfroze. “Unc!” I trilled joyfully. “Uncle—”
“Al, the patient’s pal. How are you doing, Holly?”
“Wonderful. It may take a miracle, but somehow—someway—sometime—I’ m determined to play the tuba again.”
The nurse ducked out.
“Listen, Holly, I’m terribly sorry.”
“What for?”
“For what I did to you—or rather, for what I failed to do. The explosion rattled me, I’m afraid. Or perhaps it was merely the shock of knowing there had been one. I didn’t see you and so I didn’t think about you. I went outside to help the people who’d been hurt—”
“So you didn’t know I’d been cut up a little till I grabbed you and bled all over your pants.”
He nodded solemnly. “I should have helped you, and did not. And now I don’t know what to say, except that I am truly sorry.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I said, “Pass me that candy and sit down. Then we’ll talk about sorry.”
I popped one in my mouth. It was an opera cream, which I love. While I was chewing it, I broke open a couple of others: caramels and nuts. All right!
“I ought to have known, of course,” Blue said. “You were sitting in front of the window; the wall sheltered the rest of us. I didn’t think—”
“How much did this cost you? About five bucks?”
He nodded.
“Small, but good stuff. You don’t have much money, do you?”
“Enough for my needs.”
“Well, thank you for the candy. Maybe I shouldn’t eat it, but I’m going to. Listen, there were people bleeding to death out there. Screaming, too, I bet. What you did was brave. You ran—” Right there I stuck. I couldn’t figure any way to suck the word back in, and I couldn’t go on, and all I could see was his damned cane.
He smiled. He doesn’t do it often, but you like it when he does. “Let’s say I ran as fast as I could.”
“You know this’s really crazy?” I was chewing two caramels at once; it didn’t stop me from talking, just from talking good. “Here we are, we like each other, we’re not mad at each other, and we’re circling around like each thinks the other one’s going to bite. You do like me, don’t you?”
Blue nodded. “You’re charming. You’re also intelligent.”
“And rich and jailbait, and that worries you a lot. Don’t sweat it—I won’t holler unless there’s plenty to holler about.”
“There won’t be.”
“I know that. Listen, if you’ll open that locker, I think you’ll find my jeans inside it. Will you please take your five bucks back?”
He shook his head. “Don’t suggest that again.”
“I didn’t think you would. Why the uncle bit to bring me candy?”
“Only relatives are being admitted, so I became Alan B. Hollander. They didn’t ask for identification, which is too bad because I had some. Want to see it?”
“Nope. Don’t try to draw an innocent child into your evil schemes. You didn’t know you were terrifying me, huh?”
“They didn’t tell you my name?” Blue was looking worried again. He gets fine, close-together lines on his forehead when he’s worried.
“Just that it was my uncle. You don’t know about the rose, do you?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “I know you were wearing a paper rose in your hair when I saw you at the book sale.”
So I told him all about the note from Uncle Herbert, and how I’d bought the rose and worn it ever since.
“But he hasn’t contacted you?”
“Not till now.” I pointed at the bouquet Elaine had bought. “See it? Down near the bottom.”
He hobbled over and pulled it out—one single white rose, just starting to open. “You don’t think the florist—”
“Sure I think the florist. It’s a florist’s rose. But I think the florist put it there because Uncle Herbert told him to, somehow. It’s his way
of letting me know he’s around.”
“It could’ve been part of the arrangement. Or a mistake.”
“Sure it could. Hey, here I’ve been stuffing myself with these and never offered you any. Try one of the dark chocolate-covered pecan clusters. They’re great.”
“Thank you, I will,” he said.
I let him take it and get back into the chair again. “I should have shown you, but I already ate it. You know what I found in here? One of those yellow marshmallow bunnies, like you get in your basket at Easter. Really.”
He looked at me.
“I supposed they meant for it to be there. Or maybe it was a mistake at the factory.”
I got the smile again, and this time it stayed so long he turned away so I wouldn’t see it. “You win, I believe.”
“Sure I do. You know as well as I do that florists don’t make mistakes like that. Look at that bouquet. It’s all mums and glads and greens. Bouquets are planned, and nobody would plan one that included one little white rose down at the bottom where it couldn’t be seen.”
“I said you win.”
“Yeah.”
I was quiet so long he started to stand up, but I waved a hand to let him know I wanted him to stay. “Listen, I told a lie a minute ago. I didn’t mean to, but it was a lie just the same.”
“A lie is an untruth stated with intent to deceive.”
“Okay, it wasn’t a lie—it was an untruth. I said I was rich. I should’ve said I come from a rich family. I actually don’t have much dough—just what my father gives me for clothes. So I can’t really hire you. But I want you to help me, and when I’m older I’ll pay you, honest. You’re a criminologist, right?”
Blue nodded.
“Well, I want you to help me find Uncle Herbert and send him back before he hurts somebody else.”
“Somebody else?”
“You told me about his wife.”
“Whom he killed before you were born,” Blue said. “Has he harmed anyone recently, as far as you know?”
I shook my head.
“But you believe he has. Your voice betrayed you a moment ago, and your face did just now. I’ll try to help, I promise—but I won’t stand a chance unless we’re open with each other. What is it you think he did?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? The bomb.”
“You believe that he put the bomb in Pandora’s Box?”
“Not in the box. I was just talking to Elaine about that, and I realized it doesn’t have to have been there. Everyone was looking at the box when the bomb went off, so naturally we all think the bomb was in there. Only Elaine thinks that Munroe guy had dynamite around his waist.”
I got the eyebrows again. “And do you?”
“Huh uh. He was in the book sale with us, remember? He had his shirt out of his pants, so there could have been stuff under it. But I don’t think it could’ve been anything anywhere near as big as sticks of dynamite. I’d have seen the corners of something.”
“I agree. People have done that sort of thing successfully with explosives beneath a loose-fitting overcoat, but I’ve never heard of hiding them under a summer shirt, and I don’t think it could be done.” As he spoke, Blue had been getting up to stand up. Even crippled, he got across to the door pretty quickly.
“Come in,” he said. “You can hear better.”
The guy who stepped into my hospital room then was as big as my father, and maybe bigger—tall and wide; quite a bit of it was probably fat, but for sure quite a bit wasn’t. He had a big square face that looked like it had been hacked out of a block of wood with a machete. “By God, you’re right!” he said. “But I could hear well enough out there.”
Then to me: “My name’s Sandoz, Miss Hollander; I’m a county detective.” He got out his badge case like he was used to doing it and flipped it open.
As primly as I could, I said, “I’m delighted to meet you, Lieutenant Sandoz. May I ask why you were spying on me?”
“Because two people are dead, Miss Hollander, and at least two more are apt to die before tomorrow morning. Whoever killed them might get a dozen next time, and next time you might be one of them. I’d do worse things than listen outside your door for a minute to stop that from happening.”
Naturally I was trying as hard as I could to remember just exactly what Blue and I had said, and wondering when he’d started listening. I said, “I don’t think you’ll learn much from either one of us, Lieutenant Sandoz.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a very friendly smile, only a little twitch of his wooden lips, but I think it was probably about as friendly as he could make it. “I’ll be the judge of that, Miss Hollander. I’ve already learned, for example, that someone you call Elaine—that will be Elaine Calvat Hollander, your mother, I suppose—thinks Munroe had a bomb on him. Now when I see her I’ll have something else to talk about.”
“Do you think so?” Blue wanted to know. He crossed to the chair and sat down again.
“I don’t know enough yet to have an opinion. Can I ask who you are, sir?”
“My name’s Aladdin Blue,” Blue said. So much for my uncle Al.
“And what are you doing here?”
“That should be obvious. I’m visiting Miss Hollander.”
I said, “He brought me some candy,” and held out the box. “Want a piece, Lieutenant Sandoz?”
I got ignored. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go now, sir.”
There was no mincing around with Blue; he just shook his head. “I won’t.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to.”
“If you speak to the hospital authorities, and argue with them long enough, I’m certain they’ll order me to leave,” Blue said. “But before you do, I think you should consider whether you really want to.”
“I’ve considered it,” Sandoz told him. “Get out.”
Blue made a toy steeple of his fingers. “I am a Hollander employee,” he said “As you must know by now, Mr. Hollander is in New York on business. I spoke with him by telephone before coming here, and although he is unable to return, he is deeply concerned about his daughter’s welfare, and—”
“The planes don’t fly out of New York on Sunday? They sure land at O’Hare.”
“Mr. Hollander is involved in negotiations that will affect the future of the corporation profoundly,” Blue said. “Such negotiations are not suspended on Friday afternoon and resumed on Monday morning; but even so, he may drop everything and come. I had hoped, when I left here, to be able to tell him that would not be necessary. Meanwhile I am here in loco parentis. Miss Hollander is a minor; she has suffered serious injuries and loss of blood. We’re in Cook County, so you aren’t even in your own jurisdiction. I don’t think you’re so stupid as to try to eject me, a cripple, by force under those circumstances. But if you are, I assure you I will file suit against you and Pool County tomorrow.”
“You pointed out yourself,” Sandoz said, “that I could get one of the doctors here to put you out. What would you do then—sue the hospital because your visiting time was up? Why make it tough for me? I’ve got nothing against you now. Why give me something?”
“I’m trying not to,” Blue said. “In fact, I’m trying to help you. Suppose Miss Hollander’s condition worsens tonight? Not because of anything you said or did—conditions sometimes do. I’ll have to tell Mr. Hollander that I was here and you forced me to leave so that you could cross-examine his daughter. Have you thought about how that might look, how it might sound? How will you defend yourself—by proving that Miss Hollander’s an insane explosives expert?”
(Blue was watching Sandoz’s face when he said that and so was I, because I knew right away that he was trying to see if Sandoz had been listening when I’d said Uncle Herbert might be the one. Maybe it looked to Blue like Sandoz’s nose lit up and his eyes went around, but it sure didn’t to me. I might as well have been watching a wooden Indian.)
“That’s nonsense and you know it,” Blue went on. “You’re far better off with Mun
roe’s dynamite. Now if you want to fetch a resident or the chief nurse, go ahead. When I’m gone, you can quiz Miss Hollander to your heart’s content. But I’d be careful, if I were you, not to say anything that might offend her. It’s quite possible she might become hysterical. You know how girls her age are.”
How Sandoz Dropped the Bomb on Us
I said, “I don’t care if Mr. Blue stays or goes. I’ll probably have more fun with him not around.”
Naturally that did it—Sandoz figured I was laying for him. He growled, “You can stay,” at Blue and went off to find another chair.
When he came back with one and had gotten himself settled, he gave me this little speech about how there was really nothing serious he wanted to ask me—just routine—and it would all be over in ten minutes. I felt like saying I thought the routine stuff was what they’d sent Ritter, my handsome storm trooper, to get. Only I decided that Blue and I’d already pushed him plenty far enough, so I made my eyes get wide and my face go innocent and nodded a lot while I nibbled another chocolate. Of course I thought he’d start on Pandora’s Box. Wrong.
He put on a little show of flipping through a notepad he took out of his breast pocket. Then he said, “As I understand it, you were a friend of Drexel K. Munroe.”
“You’re nuts.”
“That was the information we received. Are you saying you didn’t know Munroe?”
“Who told you I knew him?”
“I’m afraid I have to keep that confidential. Mr. Munroe had a daughter about your age. Her name’s Tracy.”
I shook my head, which hurt. “I don’t know any Tracies.”
“She goes to your school.”
“Do you know how many kids go to Barton High? There are lots of colleges with smaller enrollments.”
He smiled. I was getting so used to that wooden puss I could tell now when the lips moved. “There must be a lot of them you don’t know.”
“If I haven’t had a class with them and they’re not in the riding club or the rifle club, it’s twenty to one I don’t know them.”
