TANSTAV part 25

Chapter Seven part 2

Calla's eyes grew to nearly the size of wagon wheels; for a moment, she was speechless.

"You don't have to answer just yet," I assured her.  "Think about it for a while."

"What would I need to do?" she squeaked.

"You'd help me in my investigations."

"Like Dr. Watson?"

"Not exactly.  I can write my own memoirs.  But you could go ask people questions for me, visit crime scenes, pretty much the same stuff I do.  People are more likely to talk freely to a harmless-looking girl than a big, scary gargoyle."

Calla half snorted, another large step for her.

"You're not that scary."

Suddenly, I spread out my wings to full length; standing up to my full height, I bared my fangs, exposed my claws, lunged forward slightly, and roared, "OH, YEAH?!"

The girl screamed in fright, and flung her arms up in front of her.  Without warning, I felt something slam into me, knocking me backward into the wall!

For a few minutes, all I could do was lie there and try to get my breath back.  I managed to lift my head up and look at Calla.  She was huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around her chest, rocking back and forth.  Finally, she looked over in my direction.  Seeing that I was staring back, she uncurled from the fetal position, and crawled forward.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.  "Please don't be hurt."

"I'm fine, just a little winded," I replied, managing to pull myself up.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, I'm sorry for scaring you like that.  I forgot."

"But I should have had more self-control!"

"Kid, you've been through an incredibly traumatic experience.  I'm not surprised that you're a little shell-shocked."

"But Doctor Higgins has been treating me!  He was supposed to get me all better!"  She looked down helplessly.

"Patience, kid.  Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

"What's Rome got to do with it?" Calla muttered.  However, she smiled a little, so I knew things were okay for now.

I avoided mentioning the previous conversation for a few days.  No sense opening old wounds, and it might be good to let her think it over.  So it surprised me when, on April 13, Calla asked, "Do you still want me to be your assistant?"

"Only if you want to," I replied.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind.  I mean, you can't be everywhere at once, and it might be nice for you to have an assistant-"

"Calla," I interrupted, "what would you like to do?  Quit worrying about what I want."

"I-I'll do it, if you like."

"But what do you, personally, want?"

"...I want to make you happy."

I gave a small sigh of amused exasperation.  Blushing, Calla finally stammered, "I think I would enjoy being your assistant."

"Good.  That's all you had to say, kid."

The next day, I took Calla with me to the office.  In order to get her started, I had her read over the facts of the case, while I sorted through old files, and organized my desk.  Occasionally she would ask me questions, but for the most part we both worked in silence.  It was nice to have someone with a fresh view of things there; maybe it would help  me find some extra clues.  Suddenly, in a remarkable display of good timing, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called, with a feeling of deja vu.

In came Greenbriar, followed by an imp, a Fonin woman, and two mouse men, all of whom looked exceedingly nervous.  Greenbriar glanced curiously at Calla, who looked up when they entered, then quickly back at the papers on her desk.

"This is Calla Gardiner, my assistant," I announced.  "Anything you need to say to me can be said in front of her.  Calla, this is Morgan Greenbriar, head of H.N.M, and..."

"The eyewitnesses.  Jared, Grace, Timothy, and Nigel," she said, indicating each of them in turn.
The two of us exchanged pleasantries, while the foursome clustered together in a huddle, eyes darting in all directions.  To make them feel better, I got up from my desk, crossed the room and closed the door.

"That won't work," Timothy muttered.  "The shadow sees all, knows all.  We'll be next, I know it!"  His whiskers trembled in fear, and he was absentmindedly tying knots in his tail.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," I declared.  "Now, I'm going to need statements from all of you about what you saw.  Calla, would you mind?"

Nodding in understanding, she touched a spell we’d purchased earlier that would record things other people said.  It turned green, indicating that it was on.

They all said pretty much the same thing-during lunchtime at the center, they had been heading for their usual eating corners, when they saw a dark form appear out of nowhere (soundlessly), grab Whitechapel, and disappear just as soundlessly.  The only real variation was that Grace had been going to join Mr. Whitechapel; apparently, he was her boyfriend, making her the most distraught out of the whole group.

"You've got to find Clarence, Mr. Wormwood," she pleaded, "You've just got to!"

"I shall certainly do my best," I promised.

"See?" said Greenbriar as they were leaving, "I told you it would be all right!"

"Only now we can expect repercussions from the shadow," moaned Timothy, apparently the self-declared nay-sayer and prophet of doom.  I hoped he would be proven wrong.