The Manual of Detection: A Novel - By Jedediah Berry Page 0,92
follow our guy, the farther off course they’ll be.”
Arthur looked at him like he thought he was kidding. Then his face went red and his whole body shook with his laughter. It was an angry, wheezing laugh. “I like it,” Arthur said, crying a little.
“Good,” said Lamech. “Because I’ve already sent the memo.”
That got Arthur going again, and Lamech laughed, too. They went on like that until the custodian was wiping tears from his eyes. Then he sighed his whistling sigh and started playing with the papers on his desk.
“Strangest thing, though,” Lamech said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I saw Hoffmann just now.”
“Just now?”
“Came from his place directly.”
“No kidding. What’d he have to say?”
“A lot of nonsense, mostly. One thing that caught my ear, though.
About our standard procedures. He said the Agency didn’t come up with Chapter Eighteen. That dream detection predated our work. He said he didn’t steal it from us but that we stole it from him.”
Arthur put his spectacles back on.
“Got me thinking,” Lamech said. “Maybe we’re not just worried about Hoffmann getting too far into Sivart’s head. Maybe we’re worried about Sivart getting too far into his.”
Arthur nodded slowly. “Well, Ed, you’re no slouch. See, I met Greenwood in the early days of the carnival, long before the Oldest Murdered Man case, when she and Hoffmann had their own little sideshow. You’d go into their tent expecting your fortune to be told, but then Cleo would put you to sleep and Hoffmann would hop in and see what you had on your mind.”
“Sure, I see,” Lamech said. “A little blackmail operation. You telling me they got you with that scam?”
“It was just after I took over this outfit. That’s why I made all those changes, wrote all those rules—had to keep as much as I could hidden.”
Lamech’s jaw was clenched. “Hoffmann would have learned everything about our operations otherwise.”
“I know I should have told you, Ed. But it’s more personal than business. See, Cleo and I got to know each other after that. We were kids. We fell in love. But the only way we could see each other without Hoffmann catching on was if we met sleepside, in the old Land of Nod. What a courtship that was! I convinced her to teach me how it was done, so I could go over to her place, too, if you follow me.
“Hoffmann told you the truth, Ed. That Caligari fellow taught him dream detection, though he’d have called it something different. Then Hoffmann taught Cleo, and she’s the one who brought it to me. To the Agency. She and I didn’t last, of course. Too complicated, once we found ourselves in opposite trenches.”
Lamech took all this in. “Must be strange for her now,” he said. “Her old boyfriend on full-time surveillance duty.”
“I’m wearing her down, Ed. She’s hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is, but she can’t keep it up much longer. I’ve got the lights turned up bright, and she’s getting tired.”
Lamech looked around the room and said, “There it is again.”
“What?”
“I heard something. Not here. In my office.”
Arthur waved his hand. “That’s just me.”
Lamech gave him a careful look, and after a moment Arthur shrugged.
“Ed, I’m in your office.” He looked put out by having to explain. “All the time I’ve been spending in here these days, I’ve had to work on my sleepwalking. There are a lot of places I have to be, you know.”
“Just stopping in to empty the wastepaper basket, I guess?”
“That’s right,” Arthur said. “Coming by to clean things up a little.”
Lamech put his hat on. “I may as well go, then. I’ll shake your hand topside, on my way out.”
“Door’s locked,” Arthur said. “You don’t wake up until I do.”
Lamech was moving his jaw again, though he looked more thoughtful than angry.
“You’ve been like an uncle to me,” Arthur said. “Showed me the ropes when I first came on staff. Remember me in my messenger’s suspenders? I’d still be wearing them if it wasn’t for you. You pretended like I knew what I was doing before I knew a damn thing. That’s what makes it all so difficult.”
“Makes what difficult?”
“The lying, Ed. I’ve lied to you. So much. But the best way to fool a monkey is to fool his trainer. Sivart’s the monkey, Ed. You’ve always known that. I just want to come clean about the rest of it.”
“Why bother?” Lamech said.
“Ed, listen to me. Sivart’s cases were all bogus.”
“His cases,” Lamech said.
“Your cases. Bunkum. Hooey. Everything you solved,