Araminta Station (26 page)

The dark shape came forward and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry I startled you, but there was no other way.”

Wayness tried to hold her voice firm. “No other way for what?”

“Don’t you know? Of course you do. It’s what girls are made for.”

Wayness’ voice trembled despite her best efforts. “Don’t be absurd. It’s Arles, isn’t it? You’re absolutely grotesque in that outfit.”

“No matter who it is, or how I look!” The heavy whisper had become annoyed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Well, whatever you’ve got in mind, I’m not at all in the mood for it. In fact, you’re acting very badly. So goodnight and please don’t come scaring me anymore.” She started to move away, but Arles caught her arm.

“Not so fast. We haven’t even started yet. Let’s go over yonder, in that grass, where it will be easier on your pretty little backside.”

Wayness pulled back. “Arles, are you crazy? You can’t do this and not be punished!”

“It’s all in knowing how,” said Arles. “You might like it so much that you’ll come out every night looking for more.”

Wayness said nothing. Arles reached out and twitched away the robe. “I was right. You have a beautiful figure.” He chuckled. “What there is of it.” He touched her breasts. “I like them somewhat bigger, but these do you very nicely. Come along, over here, and don’t think to yell, because I know how to stop that kind of foolishness. Shall I show you?”

“No.”

Arles nevertheless gave a great flourish of the hands, then thrust his thumbs into a pair of sensitive places under the turn of her jaw. Wayness jerked back and for a moment broke loose. She turned to run, but Arles was on her, and bore her to the ground. “Now lie there! And don’t move!” He spread out the robe and rolled her over upon the fabric. “Now: isn’t that nice? What do you think of all this?”

“Please let me go home!”

“That’s the wrong thing to say!” Arles’ voice was half jesting, half ugly. “Girls like you need attention; that’s why you go running around naked looking for it.” He reached down and began fondling her body. Wayness stared up at the sky, wondering how Arles dared do this to her. Unless . . . Her mind refused put the idea into words.

Arles threw aside his cloak, dropped his trousers and lowered himself. From the shadows a dark figure stepped forward. There was motion, a swishing sound, a sodden thud, and Arles fell forward senseless.

Glawen reached down and pulled Wayness to her feet. “You’re safe now. It’s Glawen.”

“Oh Glawen . . .” She pressed against him and started to cry, while he tried to comfort her. “Wayness, poor Wayness! You’re safe, safe, safe. Don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it. I think he intended to kill me.”

“That’s certainly how it might have ended up.” Glawen reached for her robe.

“Put this on, then go for your father. Can you do that?”

“I’d rather that you came with me.”

Glawen looked down at the twitching hulk. A knife hung at Arles’ belt, with which Glawen cut strips from Arles’ cloak and tied his ankles and wrists. “There! That will keep him quiet for a few minutes, at least.” He looked at Wayness. “Are you feeling well?”

“Well enough.”

“Come along, then.” Glawen took her hand and they went up the path to Riverview House.

Five minutes later Egon Tamm and Milo returned down the path with a hand lamp to find Arles struggling against the bonds.

At the approach of the two men Arles desisted in his efforts and lay blinking up into the light. “I say, who are you?” he growled. “Turn that damned light out of my eyes and cut these cords. It’s an absolute outrage! I’ve been attacked and injured.”

“What a shame,” said Milo.

“Turn him loose,” said Egon Tamm grimly, and held the light while Milo cut the cords.

Arles rose shakily to his feet. “This is a very bad situation; when I came to help Wayness, someone attacked me. I suggest that we run out to look along the beach.”

“l want to look in your pouch. Hand it over”‘

Arles began to expostulate. “Now, just a moment! By what right -”

“Egon Tamm twitched the light toward Milo. “Take his pouch.”

“Oh, very well,” grumbled Arles. “Here! I carry just a few things, of a personal nature -” His voice trailed away.

Egon Tamm said: “You can go home. Do not try to leave Araminta Station. I will deal with you when my mind is settled.”

Arles turned and lurched away through the night. Egon Tamm and Milo returned to Riverview House. Wayness and Glawen were sitting on the couch, sipping the tea served by Cora Tamm.

Egon accepted a cup of tea, then turned a somber gaze upon Glawen. “I am grateful for your timely help. But I am puzzled that you could be so ready at hand when the need arose.”

“In other words,” said Glawen, “Why was I skulking around the neighborhood while your daughter was swimming in the nude?”

Egon Tamm smiled a wintry smile. “You have a nice turn of phrase.”

“You have a right to ask. If you recall, Sessily Veder was murdered.”

“I remember very well.”

“Arles became a prime suspect in the case, although nothing was definitely proved. When Wayness mentioned during class that she often walked alone by night, Arles showed extreme interest. Tonight I kept watch on him. He went up to his bedroom and departed by a secret way across the roof. I followed him up the beach; and along the path to the lake. I would have interfered sooner, except that I had to wait until I could safely come up behind him and bash him decisively. I am sorry if the delay brought extra travail to Wayness. That is your explanation.”

Wayness took Glawen’s arm and hugged it. “I at least am grateful to Glawen.”

“My dear, I am grateful too. But let me ask this: when Arles began to act in a suspicious manner, why not simply use the telephone and let me deal with the matter?”

Glawen gave a rueful laugh. “Sir, if I were to answer your question, you might think me rude. You must try to divine the answer for yourself.”

“It seems to me that you are being unnecessarily cryptic,” said Egon Tamm. “Cora, do you understand his allusions?”

“Not in the slightest. Your suggestion seemed most sound.”

Wayness laughed. “But not from Glawen’s point of view. You want to know why?”

“Of course!” said Cora Tamm. “Why else should the question be asked?”

“Then I’ll tell you. Glawen foresaw a conversation like this. Suppose Mother had answered the telephone. Glawen tries to find words to tell you that he thinks someone might be inclined to attack me. You say: ‘What’s all this nonsense again? Aren’t you being just a bit excitable?’

“And Glawen says: ‘I don’t think so, madame. This is my belief.’

“So, after much cool skepticism and putting Glawen properly in his place, I am warned not to swim, and Father goes out to look up and down the beach. He carries his light, flashes it back and forth; Arles sees him and goes home. Father finds nothing, and comes in disgruntled. He blames Glawen for his preposterous false alarms, and thereafter whenever Glawen’s name is mentioned, someone says: ‘Oh, yes, that hysterical young man from Clattuc House.’ There is the answer to your question, and no doubt better that I should tell you than Glawen.”

Egon Tamm looked sternly at Glawen. “Is she correct in all this?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

Egon Tamm laughed, and his face became suddenly warm. “In that case, it seems that we must mend our ways. I see now that you have handled yourself quite properly, and I truly am grateful to you.”

“Say no more, sir. And now I will be going home. One last matter: I hope that my name won’t figure in the case, if only to make matters easier for me at Clattuc House.”

“Your name will not be mentioned.”

Wayness took Glawen to the door. She put her arms around him and hugged him. “I won’t even try to thank you.”

“Of course not! Think how badly I would feel if something happened to you!”

“I’d feel even worse.” On an impulse she turned up her face and kissed Glawen’s mouth.

Glawen asked: “Is that just from gratitude?”

“Not entirely.”

“Let’s do it again, and you tell me which part is which.”

“Mother is coming. She wants to know too. Goodnight, Glawen.”

Chapter III, Part 9

The time was an hour short of midnight. Arles arrived home to find Spanchetta waiting up for him. Arles, his attention fragmented, had not yet decided upon what should be his version of the night’s events and so was forced to improvise a tale with Spanchetta’s unwinking stare fixed upon his face.

Spanchetta made no secret of her skepticism. “Please, Arles, it is insulting to be lied to; it is even more insulting to be taken for a half-wit. I find your story bewildering. As I understand it, you had an appointment to meet a girl along the beach, where you intended to help her with her schoolwork. Who was the girl, incidentally? Not that awful Drusilla?”

“She’s not awful and she doesn’t go to school,” muttered Arles. “She’s out doing promotional work for the Mummers.”

“Well, then: who was it?”

Arles had been told that the most proficient liars used as much truth as possible. “If you must know, it was Wayness Tamm, from Riverview House. She’s just a bit of a trollop, if the truth be known - very selectively, of course.”

“Hmf,” said Spanchetta. “So selectively that she beat you and gave you that awful black eye when you made advances?”

“Of course not! When I went out on the beach, I found that a couple of drunken tourists had accosted her and were giving her trouble. I piled into them and set them right, but in the process I took a blow or two myself. I think I’ll stay home from school until the black eye is better and my face is less swollen.”

“Absolutely not!” declared Spanchetta. “You can’t afford to miss any more school.”

“I look a fright! What shall I say when people ask questions?”

Spanchetta shrugged. “Apparently you intend to tell no one the truth. Just say that you fell out of bed. Or that you were playing whack-doodle with your grandmother.”

So in the morning Arles willy-nilly went slouching off to the lyceum, where, as he had feared, his appearance aroused attention. When asked questions, he followed Spanchetta’s advice and said: “I fell out of bed.”

Wayness and Milo came to school as usual, but paid no attention to Arles. After the social anthropology class, Arles waited for Wayness in the hall. She walked wordlessly past, but he called out to her. “Wayness, I want to say something to you.”

“As you like, but make it short.”

“You didn’t take me seriously last night, did you?”

Wayness clamped her lips and turned her face away. She said softly: “If I were you I’d be ashamed even to bring the matter up.”

“I am, in a way. It seems that I became overexcited, so to speak.” Arles attempted a lame grin. “You know how it is.”

“I think that you intended to kill me.”

“Nonsense!” scoffed Arles. “What a fantastic idea!”

“So it is,” said Wayness with a shudder. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“One question! Last night somebody hit me. Who was it?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Hah! Need you ask? It was a cowardly thing to do! Look at me, with this ridiculous black eye!”

“You can express your indignation to my father. You’ll be seeing him shortly.”

“I don’t want to see your father,” growled Arles. “So far as I’m concerned, the matter is closed.”

Wayness merely shrugged and turned away.

Two days later, during the noon recess, Arles emerged from the cafeteria to be met by four Naturalists in military uniform. Arles, turning pale, looked from one to the other. “What do you want?”

“You are Arles Clattuc?”

“What of it?”

“Come with us.”

Arles hung back. “Just a moment. Where? And why?”

“You are going to Riverview House, where you will be dealt with according to law.”

Arles took a step back and tried to bluster. “This is Araminta Station! Your law is no good around here.”

“Society law controls all of Cadwal. Come.”

Protesting and struggling, Arles was placed into a power wagon and conveyed to Riverview House. Spanchetta, when apprised of the event, first called Housemaster Fratano, then Bodwyn Wook, only to learn that both had been called to Riverview House.

The two Araminta dignitaries returned during the middle afternoon. Both spoke with Spanchetta and assured her that Arles could consider himself lucky; he had been stopped short of capital crime.

During the late afternoon Arles was returned to Araminta Station and released into the Quadrangle. He looked pale and crestfallen, and smelled of antiseptic ointments. As chance would have it, a group of Bold Lions came past as Arles was thrust from the power wagon.

Cloyd Diffin called out: “So where have you been, and what did they do to you?”

Kiper said critically: “My word, what a state of bedragglement!”

Shugart bleated: “And all for waxing a pair of drunken tourists? Hard lines, I call it.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” muttered Arles. “I don’t want to talk about it now . . . It was all bluff, anyway, I’m sure of it. They’d never dare do such a thing to me.”

Uther Offaw asked “You’re rambling dreadfully, you know. Try to be lucid and tell us what happened.”

“Nothing: just a misunderstanding. It’s bound to be a bluff.”

“You smell of hospital,” said Kirdy Wook. “Were doctors there? These drunken tourists that you chastised: were they doctors, by any chance?”

“I’ve got to go home now,” said Arles. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Chapter IV

Chapter IV, Part 1

In response to a summons from Bodwyn Wook, Glawen presented himself to the Bureau B outer office and was directed to a door at the end of a short corridor. An elderly clerk admitted him to an anteroom and after a question or two allowed him entry into Bodwyn Wook’s private office: a tall chamber of irregular dimension, with chest-high wainscoting of green baize rectangles surrounded by dark moldings, and dark paneling to the ceiling. High on the wall at the end of the room a group of stuffed animal heads glared down from the shadows; another wall was decorated with dozens of old photographs.