The next morning, everyone was present and accounted for. They all looked as usual, Constance Claire and Louis chatting amiably, Erica sleepy and non-communicative, John Watson very much within himself, saying nothing to anyone.
Louis spoke to Constance Claire of the rain. Constance Claire agreed with him about the rain. It was as though nothing whatever had transpired the night before. I felt some disappointment. Was I inventing all of this drama out of nothing? Was I turning two cigarettes into a coven of witches?
No, I thought, there is tension in the air. Constance Claire and Louis were in conversation exactly so that they didn't have to look at anyone else. John Watson was studiously avoiding looking at anyone also. Even Dora Lund, who never noticed anything at all looked from face to face. She looked puzzled. Something definitely was brewing.
The morning passed without incident. After lunch, as is my habit, I busied myself with bookkeeping and correspondence tasks in my office. The tenants have observed that they can usually find me in my office at that time, should they have something they wish to discuss with me privately. On that afternoon, it was Constance Claire.
"Mrs. Begley, I apologize for interrupting you in this way, but I must, really must, talk to you about something."
"Well, good afternoon, Miss Donne," I said in my most grown-up voice, looking up from my work over my spectacles at her. "This must be very important indeed. Please have a seat. How can I help you?"
Miss Donne, who had up until a moment before been simply Constance Claire, carefully closed the door and took a seat across from my desk. From the way she had addressed me together with the solemn look on her face, I could see that I was to take this very seriously. I removed my spectacles and composed my face for a serious discussion.
"Mrs. Begley, I am very concerned about Erica."
"So am I, from time to time," I agreed, successfully resisting the urge to smile. "What is it that particularly concerns you on this occasion?"
Her eyes turned from resolute to imploring. "She has been acting so strangely lately. We had what I would have to describe as an encounter yesterday that I really think you should know about."
I folded my hands in front of my face, put my chin on my thumbs and looked directly at her over my desk. "If you think I should hear about something, then undoubtedly you should tell it to me. Please go on."
"Well, yesterday afternoon we met crossing the campus on our way to Begley House after classes. I asked her how she was, and mentioned to her that she had been very quiet again at breakfast. I even offered to listen to her if she had anything she might want to share with me."
"She didn't reply at all at first. She walked another twenty feet or so making no response whatever, then abruptly stopped and turned around to face me."
" 'There is so much evil in this world.' she said, in a heavy, low voice. Just that, then stared at me and waited as though I was supposed to reply."
"I really had no idea how to respond to that. I think I said, 'Well, yes, of course you're right. But the whole world isn't evil, do you think?'"
"She just stared blankly at me, as though she wasn't seeing me at all. Then she said, 'There will be much suffering, and much blood. Darkness and suffering and blood. Too much blood.'"
"It was her voice, really, that frightened me the most. It was very low-pitched and sounded gravelly, not like her normal voice at all. As though she were possessed, or something. I even looked around to see how alone we really were. She looked quite fierce, with hooded eyes that were looking directly at me, or right through me."
She paused and looked at me, possibly to see if I was reacting properly to the drama of her presentation. She seemed to be remembering both the scene with Erica and the part she was playing in it now with me. Apparently my demeanor was acceptable. She went on with even more drama.
"I swear I could see the arctic in her eyes, endless cold and empty vistas of ice. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. It was as though she had me hypnotized. All I wanted from her was perhaps some material for a possible story about the German-American girl who had spent a year in post-war Germany, not to be frightened to death by a slip of a girl who might actually be quite mad."
"Anyway, I said something hopefully innocent like, 'Oh I hope not. I can't stand the sight of blood.' Then I took my leave as quickly as I could. She just stood there until I almost reached Begley House. She really did frighten me. Is she all right? I mean, well, do you think she is entirely safe to live with, to be around?"
It was as though she was acting in a play. She probably had been, at some time in her college career. I attempted to cooperate by putting on the most solemn face I owned when I answered her question.
"I don't really know. She didn't actually threaten you, did she?"
"No," Constance Claire admitted, somewhat reluctantly it seemed to me, "not in so many words, but her behavior was certainly unnerving."
"So, what do you suggest we do about this?" I asked, as innocently as I could muster on short notice. I successfully resisted slowly closing and then re-opening my eyes as I asked.
"I really have no idea. But I'm sure something must be done."
She looked a little uncertain for a second, then began what I supposed to be her main theme.
"Do you suppose she needs help? Should someone see her? Could there be something very wrong in her life? She couldn't be in some kind of danger, could she?"
Now how did my Constance Claire dig that up, so close, so innocently close to the truth? I really wished I could ask her what she and Louis had seen and done the previous night. But I couldn't do that, of course, without revealing my own nefarious activities.
She had mentioned hypnotism. Was that it? Who was being hypnotized? Constance Claire? Erica? Me? And how was I to respond to this suggestion of danger?
"I don't know. I really can't imagine how she could be in any danger," I replied quite innocently. "I will however keep an eye on things. Please don't hesitate to come to me if anything like this happens again. I know Erica to be taking her studies very seriously here at Holmes College, which might possibly explain some rather bizarre behavior. Perhaps she is even a bit too studious for her own good. I know she has been feeling rather down lately, but don't you think you are exagerating things just a bit?" "You see her every day when she comes down to breakfast. You see what she looks like and what she acts like. She isn't well. One day she won't come down at all. Then, maybe you will believe me. "
Constance Claire was certainly not satisfied with my response, and I do not blame her one bit for that, but she left my office without further comment. As for myself, I wondered what our little victim was trying to accomplish, frightening the other tenants like that. She couldn't be thinking that Constance Claire Donne was her adversary, could she?