The excuse I had used to turn down Mr. Nelly last ti was the need to consult a lawyer about the contract, so it was only natural that I bring one with for our second eting.
Fortunately, Jenkins did know a competent and trustworthy legal advisor—Mr. Raul Onis, the very man who had drafted Viscount Augustus’s will and was now assisting Jenkins in supervising its execution.
The Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe had no performance scheduled today, and they were still staying in the sa hotel Jenkins had ‘graced with his presence’ on the 31st. Even the receptionist was the sa woman, though she, of course, had no mory of him knocking her unconscious.
Though Jenkins and Mr. Onis arrived without an appointnt, Nelly happened to be there. He entered the hotel lobby almost at the sa instant they did, wearing a brown hat and holding a lit black pipe, the very picture of a man weighed down by his troubles.
“Ah, Baron Williatte, and this is...”
“Raul Onis, the baron’s legal counsel.”
Mr. Onis was a tall, well-proportioned man in his middle years. He appeared to be about the sa age as Nelly, but where Onis was trim, Nelly was not only short but also rather plump.
Hearing the lawyer’s steady voice, Nelly nodded and extended a hand, his movents sowhat distracted.
“Right, welco, both of you. Yes, let’s find a place to sit. Baron Williatte, I do hope you bring good news.”
It seed that on top of whatever else was bothering him, the man was also facing troubles with his business.
Nelly led them up to his room on the top floor of the hotel. It was a suite, boasting not only a private bathroom and kitchen but also a sitting room of considerable size.
“Since you’ve brought a lawyer,” Nelly began, “I trust we can sign the contract today?”
“Of course.”
Jenkins settled onto the sofa and nodded. “However, there is the matter of the tiline. You’ve asked that I write the detective story and find a suitable musician to compose a score for it before the end of this year. I’m afraid that’s a bit too rushed. As you know, we’re already in the last week of the month. Even if I could conjure a brilliant story in such a short period, the musical composition and the troupe’s rehearsals would require a significant amount of ti.”
“You make a very good point.”
He dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, his eyes drifting unconsciously to his left. Jenkins seized the mont to activate his sight. Sure enough, a transparent spirit was floating right beside Nelly.
It was the specter of a woman, her body marred by a grueso wound that made it difficult to guess at her cause of death. Her eyes were unnervingly inhuman, slanted sharply outwards with corners stretched thin and long. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, and from it dripped a substance like saliva that vanished before it could ever touch the floor.
The black particles slowly seeping from the entity confird Jenkins’s suspicion: this was, without a doubt, an evil spirit.
Its filthy hair was coiled around the stout rchant’s neck, and every so often, it would tighten its grip. The poor man couldn’t see the horrifying creature, but he could certainly feel its constant, agonizing tornt.
“Alright,” he said weakly, “but please, be as quick as you can.”
His voice was frail.
“No problem,” Jenkins assured him. “In fact, I do know a friend with exceptional musical talent. I expect you’ll see the finished production before the end of the first month of next year.”
“That would be wonderful...”
Nelly managed a faint smile and once again raised a hand to wipe away his sweat.
Since the contract was already drafted, they only needed to revise a few details before adding their signatures.
Of course, this first required a joint trip by carriage to City Hall to have the docunt officially notarized and filed. This would ensure that if either party violated the terms, the other could invoke the full power of the kingdom’s laws to protect their rights.
The entire process dragged on into the afternoon. Mr. Onis had other business to attend to and couldn’t join them for lunch, but he and Jenkins arranged to et again soon. On the carriage ride over, Jenkins had inquired about any old books from Viscount Augustus’s estate that might be for sale.
Nelly’s mood had improved considerably, and he insisted on paying for lunch, tip and all. They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the script, and it beca clear that the rchant was no uncultured simpleton.
The discussion turned to whether they should add supernatural elents to the detective story—a very popular trend at the mont—which gave Jenkins the perfect opportunity to steer the conversation toward his true objective:
“Mr. Nelly, I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t seed yourself since arriving in Nolan City. Does the local cuisine not agree with your palate?”
“No, Nolan is quite fine.”
The reply was decidedly noncommittal.
“Then what is troubling you? If I may be so bold, you really should see a trustworthy doctor. You’ve likely read in the papers about the shocking plague that broke out here a few days ago. I think it’s best to be cautious.”
“Yes, I saw the news. A true tragedy... But I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”
He clearly had no intention of confiding in Jenkins.
“Well then, I wish you the best. I know quite a few people here in the city, so if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Jenkins shrugged. There was no need to press the matter and reveal his own intentions.
But Nelly’s resolve was far weaker than Jenkins had anticipated. Jenkins had been planning to take his leave around three, as Chocolate was growing impatient, but just then, as if after so trendous internal struggle, Nelly abruptly changed the subject:
“Baron, this may sound utterly ridiculous, but... do you believe in ghosts?”
“I believe in no supernatural power aside from that of the great gods.”
It was his standard answer, but before Nelly could reply, he added another sentence:
“However, I have indeed had experience with things like... hauntings.”
“You have?”
Nelly asked, his eyes wide with surprise as he leaned forward to refill Jenkins’s teacup.
“Yes, back in the autumn, as a matter of fact. The house I now live in, on St. George Avenue, is a rather famous haunted house in the neighborhood. You could learn as much just by asking around.”
It was the absolute truth.
“Then why on earth would you move there? Even if one doesn’t believe in such ridiculous things as ghosts, I should think there’s no need to tempt fate with sothing so dangerous.”
Nelly’s eyes darted about as he spoke, trying his best to appear casually curious. If Jenkins hadn’t already known the truth, he might have actually been convinced.
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