Page 10 of Farkas: Gothika
“I’m not going to wear that,” Lee said.
But all of his other clothes were gone—even that silk robe—so the alternative was to spend the day in the boxers and undershirt he’d worn to bed. Grumbling, he put on the costume. It was surprisingly comfortable, and although he suspected he looked ridiculous, his rooms contained no mirror big enough to confirm it.
Breakfast had been set out: hardboiled eggs and an assortment of cold sliced meats and cheeses. There was also a bowl of cut-up fresh pineapple, which he devoured greedily.
Today he ventured out of the suite, taking a pen and pad of paper to keep track of his route. He made little notes as he went. 15 paces and rt @ suit of armor. Down 10 steps, left, left again @ huge floral vase. He wasn’t positive this would help him find his way back, but it seemed a better option than a trail of breadcrumbs.
He found a solarium with the glass painted black, a ballroom with a few bits of faded paper streamer on the floor, and a big room with a large cement-lined hole that had likely been intended as a swimming pool. Another room contained nothing but dozens of framed paintings stacked upright and leaning against the walls. Most of them looked old and, he suspected, valuable. He vowed to keep an eye out for any mention of them in the paperwork. He found a few more windows, but they were rare and all had precipitous drops beneath them.
What he didn’t find were any other people. Or the kitchen, even though there must have been one somewhere. Most distressingly, however, he couldn’t find any way out of the building. Unless you counted the windows, of course, but he’d need wings to exit that way.
He was getting tired and feeling discouraged when he turned a corner and discovered that he was at the top of the grand stairway. He ran down so quickly that he almost fell, and then he sped across the slate floor to the tall wooden door.
The knob wouldn’t turn.
He rattled it with all his strength, but to no avail. There were no bolts or latches that he could find. And when he threw himself bodily against the door, all he gained for his efforts was a bruised shoulder.
Trapped.
Fighting off panic, he stood in the vestibule, his breathing echoing around him.
Surely a house this massive had to have more than one entryway. All he had to do was keep on looking. So he did, for at least an additional hour, but without success. A glance through one of the windows showed that the sun would set soon, and he decided to return to his suite. At least his record-keeping worked and he was able to find his way back. That was some small solace.
Vincent entered the drawing room shortly after darkness fell. He wore a modern suit, very much like something Lee would wear to work although more expensive. He smiled broadly at Lee, who was standing aimlessly near the fire. “My gift fits you well, I see. And it suits you.”
“Where are my clothes?”
“Being laundered,” Vincent said with a shrug. “I had hoped my gift would suffice in the interim. It is more comfortable, yes? Your ancestors wore clothing much like it, although perhaps this is of finer quality.”
Lee was going to argue about being forced to dress like this, but then he remembered that the clothes weren’t the important issue. He took a deep breath. “Am I a prisoner here, Vincent?”
“No! Of course not. You are my honored guest.” Vincent looked shocked.
“Then why can’t I leave?”
“I am not sure I understand.”
“I spent all afternoon searching for a way out of this place. I finally found the front door, but it was locked.”
Vincent was frowning. “But why do you wish to leave? Our business is not yet concluded. Is there something you need that I have not provided? Some rule of hospitality that I have inadvertently violated?”
Now Lee felt stupid and confused. Why had he been so eager to go? He had nothing waiting for him aside from his job—which he’d most likely lose if he abandoned the Farkases. And Vincent had been nothing but kind and attentive. The food was excellent, the rooms were comfortable. The clothing situation was odd, but maybe it was some kind of custom from Vincent’s homeland, and it wasn’t as if anyone was here to see him in the silly outfit.
Still, he clung stubbornly to the one fact he knew. “The door was locked.”
“Yes. It is a security measure. As you know, there are many priceless objects in this house. I would not want thieves to steal them.” He gave a small smile. “And anyway, it is safer for you to remain indoors. We are many, many miles from a main road or my nearest neighbor, and hazards abound on my property.”
“I don’t—” Lee squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them, Vincent was looking at him with concern. “I’m sorry. Could I just use your telephone, please?”
“I am afraid I do not have one. But if you would like to write a message to someone, I will have it delivered tomorrow.”
Lee could write a note to Mr. Graves, but what would it say? He had no legitimate complaints—just an overwhelming sense of strangeness and unease.
“Never mind. Let’s just get to work.”
They had dinner first. Well, Lee did, while Vincent sat across from him. The meal was as delicious as ever, and Lee was relieved when Vincent poured him some of that wine. And then there were the piles of papers and ledgers, which soothed him into something akin to contentment. He was satisfied that he’d done a thorough job of establishing Vincent’s identity—plenty good enough to hold up in court. He also had a fairly complete picture of the family holdings. Once he spoke with Laszlo Farkas, Lee could begin transferring everything to Vincent. That would take some time as well, but it should be straightforward.
At some point very late at night, Lee got up to stretch his legs. He wandered out onto the little balcony, shivering in the chilly air until Vincent came up behind him and slipped a blanket over Lee’s shoulders. The intimacy of that act made Lee bite his lip, and then Vincent was standing so close beside him that their shoulders touched. Far above them, a few dim stars did little to illuminate the view. The coyotes were howling again, but they sounded far away.