A Lot Like Christmas

by Connie Willis

  “Pretty. Alas, Bridlings, once again you see only the facade. You do not look at what lies behind. Do you not think it strange that Sergeant Eustis does not wish me to know of his interesting cases? All detectives wish to brag of their exploits.”

  Well, that’s certainly true, I thought.

  “And there is this,” he said, handing me Lady Charlotte’s letter. “Odd, is it not?”

  I read it through. “I don’t see anything odd about it. She invites us to come and lists the train times.”

  “Indeed. Look at the second-to-last train time.”

  “The 5:48,” I said.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. It says—”

  “The five and the four are quite distinct, are they not? And yet both Mr. Rutgers and Ms. Fox say they mistook Lady Charlotte’s five for a four and thus came a day early,” he said, obviously in his element. “A mystery, yes? Come, we are late.”

  We went down to the entryway. Lady Charlotte and Mick Rutgers were already there, bundled in coats and scarves. She was telling him about the Institute. “Organizations and ethologists have tried for years to protect primate habitats and regulate the treatment of primates in captivity, but conditions have only gotten worse, and will continue to get worse, so long as people continue to think of them as animals.”

  She turned to greet us. “Oh, Inspector, Colonel, we’re just waiting for D’Artagnan. He’s going to drive us down to the compound. I was just telling Mr. Rutgers about the Institute. Some people do not approve of our implanting larynxes and dressing primates in clothing, but the only chance they have of survival is for people to accept them. And to be accepted, unfortunately, they must stand upright, they must have employable skills. They’re necessary to make people realize primates are sentient creatures, that they can think and reason and feel as we do. Did you know that humans and pygmy chimpanzees share ninety-nine percent of their genes? Ninety-nine percent. Our genes are their genes. And yet when the University of Oklahoma discontinued their language research project, the apes who had been taught to sign were used in AIDS experiments. Do you remember Lucy?”

  “The chimpanzee who was raised as a human and taught to sign?” I asked.

  “She was shipped back to Gambia, where she was murdered by poachers.” Tears came to Lady Charlotte’s eyes. “They cut off her head and hands for trophies. Lucy, who knew three hundred words! Oh, D’Artagnan, there you are,” she said.

  I turned. D’Artagnan was standing there in the corridor. He was still in his cutaway coat and trousers, but not his white gloves. I wondered how long he’d been there.

  “Are you ready to drive us to the compound, Tanny?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “Lord Alastair. Wish meet Inspector,” he said in that ridiculously small voice.

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Charlotte said, as if she’d just heard bad news. She bit her lip, and then, as if she’d realized her response needed some sort of explanation, said, “I’d hoped your arrival hadn’t wakened him. My father has so much difficulty sleeping. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to tour the compound.”

  She turned to D’Artagnan. “Tell Nurse Parchtry we’ll be up directly,” she said, and as he started to leave, “Where are your gloves, Tanny?”

  He promptly put his hairy black paws behind his back and hung his head. “Took off. Dishes. Now can’t find.”

  “Well, go and get another pair out of the pantry.” She took a bunch of keys out of her pocket and handed them to him.

  “D’Artagnan sorry,” he said, looking ashamed.

  “I’m not angry,” she said, putting her arms around his vast back. “You know I love you.”

  “Love you,” he said, and flung his huge arms around her.

  I looked at Touffét, alarmed after what James had said, but D’Artagnan had already released her and was asking, “Gloves first? Tell first?”

  “Tell Nurse Parchtry first, and then go and get a new pair of gloves.” She patted his arm.

  He nodded and lumbered off, Lady Charlotte smiling affectionately after him. “He’s such a dear,” she said, and then continued briskly, “Inspector Touffét, if you don’t mind, my father’s an invalid and gets lonely.”

  “But of course I should be happy to meet him,” he said.

  “Can I meet him, too?” Rutgers said. “I’ve heard so much about his AI work.”

  “Of course,” Lady Valladay said, but she sounded reluctant. “We’ll all go up just for a little while. My father tires easily.”

  She pressed the button for the lift. We stepped inside. “My father’s rooms are on the fourth floor,” she said, pressing another button. “It used to be the nursery.” The lift shot up. “He’s been ill for several years.”

  The lift opened, and Lady Charlotte led the way to a door. “Oh, dear,” she said. “I gave my keys to D’Artagnan. Nurse Parchtry will have to let us in.”

  She knocked. “My father has a wonderful nurse. Marvelously efficient. She’s been with us for nearly a year.”

  The door started to open. I looked curiously at it, wondering if Nurse Parchtry would turn out to be an orangutan in a nurse’s cap and stethoscope. But the person who opened the door was a thin, disheveled-looking woman in white trousers and a white smock.

  “May we come in, Nurse Parchtry?” Lady Charlotte asked, and the woman nodded and stepped back to let us through into a small room with plastic chairs and a Formica counter along one side.

  “You’d best stay here in the anteroom, though,” the woman said. “Tapioca for lunch.”

  If this was Nurse Parchtry, she looked anything but efficient. One pocket of her smock was torn and hanging down, and her fine, gray-brown hair had come out of its bun on one side. There was a huge blob of something yellowish-gray on one trouser leg—the tapioca?

  No, the tapioca was splattered across the glass-and-chicken-wire partition that separated the room we were in from the larger one beyond, along with soft brown smears of something. I hoped they weren’t what they looked like.

  I wondered if I had somehow misunderstood, and Lady Charlotte had taken us to see the primate compound after all instead. The room behind the partition looked almost like a cage, with toys and a large rubber tire in the middle of the floor. No, there was a single bed against the far wall and a rocking chair beside it.

  “He heard the taxi,” Nurse Parchtry was saying. “I’ve told that cabbie to drive quietly. I tried to tell him it was just a parcel arriving for Christmas, but he knew it was guests. He always knows, and then there’s just no dealing with him till he sees them.”

  Lady Charlotte nodded sympathetically. “Nurse Parchtry, this is Inspector Touffét.”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you,” Nurse Parchtry said, trying to push the straggle of gray-brown hair behind her ear. “I am such a fan of your detecting. I adored The Case of the Clever Cook. I’ve always wished I could see you solve one of your murders.” She turned to me. “Does he really solve them as quickly as you say, Colonel Bridlings?”

  Nurse Parchtry turned to Lady Charlotte. “I was wondering—it is Christmas Eve, and I am such a fan of Inspector Touffét’s—if I might eat downstairs tonight instead of having a tray.”

  Lady Charlotte glanced uncertainly at the partition. “I don’t know….”

  “Lord Alastair always goes to sleep after he’s had his cocoa,” Nurse Parchtry said, gesturing toward the tray, “and I did so want to hear Inspector Touffét recount some of his celebrated cases. And Lord Alastair’s been very good today.”

  There was a splat, and I looked over at the partition. A large blob of greenish mush was trickling down the center of the glass, and behind it, holding the plastic bowl it had come out of, was Lord Alastair.

  If I had been shocked by the sight of a talking gorilla, I was completely overwhelmed by the sight of Lord Alastair, computer genius and billionaire, dressed in wrinkled pajamas, his white hair matted with the greenish stuff he’d just thrown. He was barefoot, and his tee
th were bared in a cunning grin.

  “Good Lord,” I said, and next to me, Rutgers murmured disbelievingly, “Al?”

  Lord Alastair stepped back, hunching his shoulders, and I wondered if we had frightened him, but he was still grinning. He reared back and spat at us.

  “Oh, Father,” Lady Charlotte said, and he grinned evilly at her and began smearing the spittle into the tapioca and the brown streaks, as if he were fingerpainting.

  “Oh, dear,” Nurse Parchtry said, “and you were so good this morning.” She pulled a bunch of keys out of her pocket, hastily unlocked a door next to the partition, and disappeared. She reappeared inside a moment later with a wet towel and began wiping Lord Alastair’s hands.

  I watched, horrified, afraid he was going to spit on her next, but he only struggled to free his hands, slapping weakly at her like a naughty child and shouting a string of garbled obscenities.

  Beside me, Rutgers seemed hypnotized. “How long has he been like this?”

  “It’s gotten gradually worse,” Lady Charlotte said. “Ten years.”

  Nurse Parchtry had Lord Alastair’s hands clean and was combing his hair. “You must look nice for your guests,” she said, her voice faint but clear through the glass. “Inspector Touffét’s here, the famous detective.”

  She brought him over to the partition, holding his left wrist in a firm grasp. “Lord Alastair, I’d like you to meet Inspector Touffét.”

  Touffét stepped up to the glass and bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Inspector Touffét’s come to solve a mystery for us, Father,” Lady Charlotte said.

  “Yes,” Touffét said, “I am interested to know more of this mystery.”

  There was a knock at the door behind us. “Shall I?” I asked Lady Charlotte.

  “Please,” she said, and I unlocked and opened it. It was Heidi, bearing a tray with a toddler’s lidded cup and a plate of graham biscuits on it.

  I stepped back so she could enter, and as soon as she did, Lord Alastair exploded. His left arm came up sharply, clipping Nurse Parchtry on the chin, and she reeled back, cradling her jaw. He began pounding on the glass with both hands and hooting wildly. Heidi watched him, clutching the tray, her eyes wide with fright.

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Charlotte said. “Heidi, set the tray down on the counter.”

  Heidi did, her eyes still on Lord Alastair, then bobbed a curtsey and ran awkwardly out on all fours. Lord Alastair continued pounding for a moment and then walked over to the plastic bowl, sat down on the floor, and began licking the inside of the bowl.

  Rutgers shook his head sadly. “Ten years,” he murmured.

  Nurse Parchtry disappeared and then reappeared at the door, her jaw and cheek scarlet.

  “He doesn’t like Heidi,” she said unnecessarily. “Or D’Artagnan.” She put her hand wincingly up to her cheek. “He threw the rocking chair the last time D’Artagnan brought in his lunch.”

  “I think you’d best put some ice on that,” Lady Charlotte said. “And with Father so upset, I think perhaps you’d better eat up here tonight.”

  “Oh, no!” Nurse Parchtry said desperately. “He’ll quiet down now. He always does after—”

  There was a banging on the door, and Touffét moved to open it. James burst in, clutching his thumb. “You will not believe what that monster just did!”

  I wheeled and looked at the partition, thinking Lord Alastair must have gotten out somehow, but he was still sitting in the middle of the floor. He’d put the bowl on his head.

  “He grabbed my hand and tried to tear it off. Look!” He thrust it at Lady Charlotte. “I think it’s broken!”

  I couldn’t see any telltale redness like that on Nurse Parchtry’s jaw.

  “The brute tried to kill me!” he said.

  “What brute?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “What brute? That ape of yours! I was walking down the corridor, and he suddenly reached out and grabbed me.”

  He turned to us. “I’ve tried to tell my sister her apes are dangerous, but she won’t listen!”

  “I thought that gorillas had very gentle natures,” Rutgers said.

  “That’s what the so-called scientists at my sister’s Institute say, that they’re all harmless as kittens, that they wouldn’t hurt a fly! Well, what about this?” he said, shaking his hand at us again. “When we’re all murdered in our beds some morning, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

  He stormed out, but his ragings had roused Lord Alastair, who was pounding on the glass again.

  “He’ll go to sleep as soon as he’s had his cocoa,” Nurse Parchtry said pleadingly. “He always does, and today he didn’t have a nap. And I’d have the monitor with me. I’d be able to hear him if he woke up. And it’s Christmas Eve!”

  “All right,” Lady Charlotte said, relenting. “But if he wakes up, you’ll have to come straight back up here.”

  “I will, I promise,” she said, as giddily as if she were Cinderella promising to leave the ball by midnight. “Oh, this will be such fun!”

  “It’s hardly my idea of fun,” I told Touffét as we were going down for dinner. “I’d much rather be at my sister’s. And I’ll wager Lady Charlotte would rather be, too. It’s obvious why she prefers apes, with a father and a brother like that.”

  “The father is a millionaire,” Touffét said thoughtfully. “Is that not so?”

  “Billionaire,” I said.

  “Ah. I wonder who is it that inherits his estate when he dies? I wonder also what makes Nurse Parchtry stay with such a disagreeable patient?” He rubbed his hands, obviously enjoying himself. “So many mysteries. And perhaps there will be more at dinner.”

  There were, the first one being whether Lady Charlotte was even aware it was Christmas. There were no decorations on the table, no holly or pine garlands decking the dining room, and no heat. Leda, who had changed into a fetching little strapless dress, was shivering with cold.

  And the dinner was utterly ordinary, no boar’s head, no goose, no turkey, only some underseasoned cod and some overdone beef, all served by D’Artagnan, in new gloves, and Heidi. Hardly a festive holiday feast.

  Lady Charlotte didn’t appear to notice. She was well launched on the subject of primate intelligence, apparently grateful that her brother, James, hadn’t come down to dinner. Nurse Parchtry wasn’t there, either. Apparently her patient hadn’t gone off to sleep as easily as she’d hoped.

  “One of the prejudices we’re working to overcome is that primate behavior is instinctive,” Lady Charlotte said. “We’ve done research that demonstrates conclusively their behavior is intentional. Primates are capable of conscious thought, of planning, and learning from experience, and of having insights.”

  Just after the soup course (tinned), Nurse Parchtry hurried in and sat down between Leda and me. She had changed out of her uniform into a gray chiffon thing with floating draperies, and she was all smiles.

  “He’s finally asleep,” she said breathlessly, setting a white plastic box on the table. A series of wheezes and gasping noises came from it. “It’s a baby monitor. So I can hear Lord Alastair if he wakes up.”

  How nice, I thought. Midway through dinner we shall be treated to a stream of animal screams and obscenities.

  “What is it that Lord Alastair suffers from?” I asked.

  “Dementia,” she said, “and hatefulness, neither one of which is fatal, unfortunately. He could live for years. Thank you, Heidi,” she said, as the chimpanzee set a plate of fish in front of her. “Isn’t this exciting, Heidi, having Inspector Touffét here?”

  Heidi nodded.

  “Heidi and I are both mystery fans. We’ve been reading The Case of the Crushed Skull, haven’t we?”

  Heidi nodded again and signed something to Nurse Parchtry.

  “She says she thinks the vicar did it,” she said. She signed rapidly to Heidi. “I think it was the ex-wife. Which of us is right, Colonel Bridlings?”

  Neither, as a matter of fact, though
I had to give Heidi credit. I had thought it was the vicar, too. “I don’t want to spoil the ending,” I said, and Heidi bobbed her head in approval.

  “He was always a dreadful man,” Nurse Parchtry said, returning to the topic of Lord Alastair. “And, unfortunately, his son’s just like him.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Which is why he left everything to him in his will, I suppose. A pity. He’ll only gamble it away.”

  “He gambles?” I said.

  “He’s horribly in debt,” she whispered. “I heard him on the phone only this morning, pleading with his tout. You see, Lord Alastair arranged his money so it can’t be touched until his death, which I suppose is a good thing. Otherwise there’d be nothing left.” She shook her head. “It’s Lady Charlotte I feel sorry for.”

  She leaned closer, her draperies drifting across my arm. “Did you know Lord Alastair stopped her from marrying her true love? She fell in love with one of his AI scientists, Phillip Davidson—Phillip was the one who got her interested in primate intelligence—and when Lord Alastair found out, he trumped up charges of industrial espionage against him, ruined his reputation, forced him to emigrate. Lady Charlotte never married.”

  Touffét would be interested in knowing that, I thought. I glanced at him, but he was watching Mick Rutgers, who was listening to Lady Charlotte talk of her apes’ accomplishments.

  “D’Artagnan has learned eight hundred words, and over fifty sentences,” she said. “We work for two hours a day on vocabulary.” She smiled at D’Artagnan, who was removing the fish course. “And for an hour on serving skills.”

  Heidi began serving the roast beef. The snores and wheezes from the baby monitor subsided to a heavy, even breathing.

  “Heidi and I work on her reading for two hours a day, and she reads on her own for another hour. Heidi,” Lady Charlotte said, stopping her as she set a plate of roast beef down in front of Leda. “Tell Inspector Touffét what your favorite case is.”

  Heidi signed rapidly, grinning widely.

  “The Case of the Cat’s Paw,” Lady Charlotte translated.

  Touffét looked pleased. “Ah, yes, a most satisfying case,” he said, and launched into an account of it.