Caught in the act

Robbing the Crypt.

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Glorina

Things started to get fuzzy. I whited out for a moment. For a long time. Then I found myself down in the Crypt, pulling paintings out of the slots, and carefully packing the most expensive ones in my carry-case.

I sat back on my heels. When had I decided to do this? I was going to do nothing, and see what happened. No, I was right. There was no escape from this. I hadn't found the one painting my boss was looking for, but maybe these others would mitigate things.

I suddenly heard the door open behind me, and spun around.

"Why, Ms. Hoi," came Tolly's voice. "What are you doing? I appreciate your dedication to your work, but surely nothing here couldn't wait until morning?"

At that moment, I hated his amused detached tones.

He looked around. "I think you're growing careless, Ms. Hoi. You're taking the paintings, but not turning off the silent alarm."

Idiot! He was right. I could see the light blinking from whereI sat. Yet more carelessness. Maybe I deserved to die.

When I didn't answer, he sighed, and sat down on the floor near me, just out of arm's reach. His arm, not mine.

"Ms. Hoi, even now I would protect you, if you just ask. But if you walk out that door with that case, and I won't be able to do so anymore."

"You'll just let me go?"

"Not if you leave with the case. If you leave without it, I won't do anything further. Yes, I'll just let you go."

"Maybe I should just shoot you."

He blinked. "Shoot me? Here and now? I suppose you could. I would really look like a complete fool when they found my body tomorrow."

"Or the next day. Or next month. I've seen how often anyone besides you comes down here."

He looked startled. "Point. But if I turn up missing, they'll look for me. Eventually."

"I expect no one knows you're here, and you have no backup."

"Point again."

"Then how can I trust you for protection if you aren't even smart enough to protect yourself?"

"Yet another point." He paused. "Do you even have a gun, Ms. Hoi?"

I sighed. "No. But that doesn't matter."

"True as well. Would it help if I swear to you to protect your life far more diligently than I do my own?"

"Not particularly."

"Then we seem to be at an impasse."

I looked at him, and considered. There was no way that he could save me. Not really. But maybe, just maybe, I could be remembered. Maybe, just maybe, that could be enough. But could I trust him? I thought of the "Bitter Tolly" painting, and shivered.

"Are you all right, Ms. Hoi? Glorina?"

"Shush, let me think."

He obligingly shushed, but I could see he was looking more and more in pain.

I could not trust Bitter Tolly. And this man was him. Or was he? I considered it again. I had seen no signs of Bitter Tolly in the time I'd been there. Granted, that was only a couple of months, but still, his friends, his employees, liked and respected him. giving no signs that they knew Bitter Tolly. Perhaps he had grown past it, learned to change. But what choice did I have, if I were going to die anyway?

"Tolly?" I said, and was surprised by how querulous my voice sounded.

"Yes, Ms. Hoi?"

“How old are you?”

He stiffened, then groaned, his hand on his bad leg. "Surely, that doesn't matter at the moment, Ms. Hoi?"

"Please, it is important. I need to know."

He sighed. "Trust for trust, truth for truth, is it?"

That wasn't quite it, but a start.

He hesitated for a long moment. "I don't know, precisely," he began hesitantly.

"The exact number doesn't matter," I said impatiently. "What I want, what I need to know, Tolly, is, are those paintings you?"

"Paintings? Oh, the ones you showed me."

"Yes. The ones with all the 'Tol' this, 'Licht' that names. You never actually denied them, did you?"

He sighed again, closed his eyes for a long moment, then answered, without opening them. "Yes, those are me. Those were me. I hope that's what you needed to know."

"Not quite," I said, getting up, and going over to the slot where Bitter Tolly's picture hung. It was behind Tolly, so when he tried to turn to see what I was up to, he couldn't quite do it.

"Eh? What's that?" he said.

I quickly set the painting up on its roller display, and brought it over to where he could view it easily.

"And is this also you?" I asked quietly.

It was a fair question. Where the earlier paintings had appeared to be at least ten to twenty years younger than Tolly currently appeared, this painting appeared to be about ten to fifteen years older.

"Oh." He looked at that painting with dismay and distaste, and shook his head. "I had forgotten about him. I don't like him much. Ms. Hoi, I can explain . . ."

"Is it or isn't it you?" I persisted.

"Ms. Hoi, please." He buried his face in his hands. "I don't want . . . It was me, Glorina," he finally admitted. "I should have gotten rid of it long ago."

"Then I'll . . . I'll trust you," I said, my voice squeaking.

"Hmm? What's that?" he said, looking up in surprise.

"I will trust you. I will tell you everything."

"What? Why would that old—" he used a word I didn't recognize, "—make you trust me?"

"Tolly, not now," I said faintly.

"Right, doesn't matter," he muttered. "So, tell me."

"Does sitting on the cold floor hurt your leg?"

He blinked at me, startled. "Well, yes, it does, actually. Especially since I don't have anything to lean my back on."

"And I bet it was a bit sore from the picnic this afternoon."

"Yes, just a little. I had hoped it was worth it."

"Was it?"

"Don't know yet. I'm still hopeful."

"It wasn't fair, you know," I said suddenly.

"What's that, Ms. Hoi?"

"Using unicorns against me. Without even letting me see them."

He gave a painful laugh. "So you were listening in. I suppose it was. As you wish, Ms. Hoi. The next time I use unicorns against you, I shall introduce you first."

"Oh, this is ridiculous," I said, jumping up and holding my hand out to him. "Let me help you up, and we'll talk somewhere more comfortable."

He looked at my outstretched hand dubiously. "What am I supposed to do with that, Ms. Hoi?"

"I'm trying to help you up, Tolly," I said.

"Ms. Hoi, if I took your hand, you wouldn't be helping me up, I'd be helping you down."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," I said with a coy smile. Then I laughed at his expression.

"Ms. Hoi, you pick the . . . oddest . . . times for these glimpses of humor."

"I'm sorry," I said, contritely, and started to fold my hands.

"And then you do something like that, Ms. Hoi. Glorina. Ms. Hoi. Apologies are not necessary. Or desired." He grabbed his cane, planted it solidly in front of him, then used it to scramble to his feet. Then he stood, leaning on it heavily, and looking slightly pale.

"I'm sorry," I started again.

"Glorina, not now," he said shortly. I noticed he was short of breath, and sweating.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"No. Yes. I will be. Just give me a moment." He continued breathing heavily. "It's been . . . years since I've done something like that . . . I'd . . . forgotten . . . how much it hurt."

"You don't know what pain is," my mouth said suddenly. What was coming over me? I was losing control again.

He gave me a sharp glance. "Indeed, I do know what pain is, Ms. Hoi. But I would wager you also understand it thoroughly."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I shouldn't have."

"Don't bow again," he said. "I seem to be mostly recovered again, I think. For the moment. We'll follow your suggestion, and go discuss this somewhere more comfortably."

I glanced back at my half-packed carrier, and scattered artwork. "Shouldn't we clean this up?"

He looked at it also. "It will wait until morning," he said. "I'm too tired at the moment. And I don't trust you."

I winced. Not at what he said so much as the matter-of-fact, weary way in which he said it.

"Someone will come back and put things away later," he said.

"Someone not being me," I said bitterly.

"Doubtful," he agreed solemnly.

He locked the door behind him as we left, taking a couple of extra moments to fiddle with it. "By the way, Ms. Hoi," he said, "I have just canceled your keycard to the crypt, and fully alarmed the room."

I nodded my head. I couldn't say I was surprised. "What will happen to my stuff?" I asked.

"Your stuff will be returned to you in due time," he said. "I doubt you would have let me have that courtesy."

I hung my head, and followed along behind again. We went in silence to the elevator, and then up the other elevator, the one to his apartment.

"Never noticed how far this was," he muttered, leaning against the wall.

I looked out into a small seating area, like the one by my room. Smaller and cozier, with no kitchen equipment.

"Would you like a cup of—" his face grew grey, and he suddenly sagged against the door frame.

"Are you all right?" I said, darting forward. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm not all right," he said, shortly and breathlessly. "My leg . . ."

"Let me help you to a seat," I said, reaching up for his arm.

"No, beautiful," he said. "I'm far too heavy for you to support."

Beautiful? "You're not thinking straight," I said firmly. "Let me help you to a chair. Then I’ll call an ambulance."

"No," he said. "It's just a muscle spasm. I've had it before." He tried to take a step forward, then stopped and gripped his cane like it was a lifeline. "Ms. Hoi," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a room keycard. "I'm afraid I am going to have to trust you." He handed the card to me. "Please, go to my room, my kitchen, above the sink, and grab me a blue packet of pills, and some water?"

"Yes, of course," I said. I ran to the kitchen in his room, but realized the cabinets in it were oddly proportioned, and I couldn't reach the ones above the sink. I looked around desperately, but of course no footstool was anywhere to be found. At last I spotted a chair by the window and brought it over. There were two boxes of pill packets sitting on the shelf, one blue and one green. I grabbed one of the blue packets, and swore as I knocked the rest of the box all over the floor. I just left them there. Then I found a mug and filled it with water, and brought it to him.

Tolly had managed to make his way over to the couch, and now half lay on it. He thanked me as I handed him the pills and mug, and tore open the packet and swallowed the pills with a big swig of water, with evident relief. "I'll be back to normal soon," he said, trying to give me a reassuring smile, but it came out like a grimace. With his still grayish face and sheen of sweat, he looked anything but reassuring. "If you could also bring me that footstool, I'd appreciate it. Then we will talk, young lady."

"I'm afraid I spilled the box all over the floor," I told him as I brought over the footstool.

"Quite all right, Ms. Hoi, quite all right," he said absently, wincing as he put his foot up, then relaxing again. "I'm afraid this hasn't happened in years. I used to carry a couple packets around with me, but I've gotten out of the habit."

Then a puzzled look passed across his face, and he rubbed his hands on his temples. "What color pill packet did I tell you to bring me?"

"Blue, Tolly. And that's what I brought. What's wrong?"

"That's right. I did say blue," he murmured. "Not your fault. I should have looked at it before I took it. I'm afraid we'll have to put off our talk, Ms. Hoi." His voice kept getting softer.

"What's the matter?" I asked frantically. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine," he said, making an effort to talk. He smiled at me rather unfocused and lopsidedly. "Not your fault. I meant to say the green pills, not the blue ones. The blue ones are sleeping pills, fast-acting ones, knock me right out." He rubbed his forehead again. "Probably better in the long run. But I wanted to talk."

"Should we try to get you to bed, Tolly?" I asked.

"No time, I'm afraid." His voice was slurred and distant. "It seems to be working even faster than usu . . ." His head lolled back, his eyes closed.

I looked at him doubtfully. What was I supposed to do now? I sighed, and put the other foot up on the footstool, and stared at his shoes. No, better to leave them. I went to the closet, and found a blanket, which I wrapped around him as best I could. Then I considered further, and locked his rooms up again, and put the key back in his pocket. I made myself a cup of larin tea, and slowly drank it. I really was sleepy myself. But I didn't want to leave him alone. With a sigh, I went and got another blanket from the closet, and curled up at the other end of the couch. I listened to him snore for a long time, then fell asleep myself.

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