9,000 Petals of Insanity

Chapter 19: Musings of the Weeping Woman

"Where does a wise man hide a leaf? In the forest. But what does he do if there is no forest? He grows a forest to hide it in." 

G. K. Chesterton, The Innocence of Father Brown

We returned to the police station after interrogating Udoparing. It seemed that a lead had come up in the case, and Galsworthy quickly informed us of the new evidence.

"We have found," said he, "what appears to be the significance of the stolen doorknobs."

Dusang frowned. "And that would be--"

"There was a man who was convicted of stealing doorknobs several years back," said Galsworthy. "His name's Vœux Lesanguin. He was a French immigrant who came here to work as a bankers. He had an unusual obsession with doorknobs, which compelled him to steal them. He was caught, but never convicted, because there is no law which prohibits the theft of doorknobs. However, he was charged, because the doorknobs were considered as property."

"Is he alive, then?" said I. Galsworthy shook his head.

"Unfortunately not," said the inspector.

"That doesn't help us much," said I.

"Nevertheless," said Galsworthy, "it is still a lead."

Dusang was determined to inquire upon Wheracles Egg to interrogate him about Beelzebub Narkarec. We located Egg's residence before long. It was a formidable villa which overlooked the ocean. Dharma drew up the Hispano-Suiza before the villa, and we were given a glimpse of the Alfa Romeo that stood in the front drive. Egg's villa had two pools: one of which, a plain Olympic-size swimming pool, stood in the midst of a large garden. The other one was an infinity pool, which was at the very top of a separate building adjacent to the main villa, the closest part of the residence to the ocean. Most of the building's features were modelled after Modernist ideals, artistically bizarre shapes which created an almost Surrealistic sight.

The door was opened by a portly young butler, who was more than willing to announce of our arrival to Mr. Wheracles Egg. We were told to await him in the central hall. I shall leave it to the reader's own imagination of what the interior resembled.

Before long we were met by Mr. Wheracles Egg. His name did not do him much justice; far from possessing a rounded figure, Wheracles Egg was a man of powerful build. Thundering ponderously down the steps, he walked slowly across the carpeted floor towards us. All at once I saw his face. Lo, what a horrid face! I must confess, it was the singularly most ugly face I had ever seen! The grotesquely exaggerated lips, the swollen nose, the beady eyes, the bone-dry skin! Hair, the shade of a restless night, uglily dull! Lo, what an ugly face! I endeavored, with much difficulty, to suppress a shudder. There was nothing complimentable about his face, not one single aspect of it!

Thrown about his form was a large silk dressing gown. There was a sullen look plastered upon his face, and walking sulkily towards us he proceeded to shake Dusang's hand. "Mr. Dusang," growled Wheracles Egg, "it is an honor to meet you."

The contempt was barely contained in his voice. Dusang, however, responded, with exaggerated dignity: 

"The honor is mine, Mr. Egg."

Thus was the mutual dissatisfaction of these two men carried towards each other.

Egg made no intention of offering us any courtesy. He merely sat down in his armchair, stretching lazily, leaving Dusang and I standing there. Dusang, who had experience with contemptible hosts in his long career, took the liberty of sitting down himself. Not wanting to be the only one standing, I was forced to mimic him. Egg's eyes flashed with malice for a moment.