Gertie’s instructions are very specific. Pay a call on Gunther and the old man. See if you can get Gunther out of the house for a drink. See the clues and then try to convince him to walk away from the house. He does the first two, despite Archeron’s intense gaze, but the clues are still eluding him. At least until a few drinks are warming their bellies, and Gunther looks up at him curiously.
“So what brought you over? You don’t exactly make social calls with us anymore.”
Mason raises an eyebrow. “I’m not allowed to visit my mentor?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying there isn’t precedent.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” He leans back in his seat, studying his friend carefully. The bags under his eyes, the sallowness of his skin—something isn’t right. He can see now why Gertie is upset and looking to get him out from under Archeron’s thumb.
“So? Why are we having this drink, Mason?”
“Gertie asked me to see you. I think she was trying to make sure that someone else is seeing what she’s seeing.” He grimaces as his fingers tease the edge of the glass. “And I’m thinking I am.”
Gunther blinks, looking confused. “I haven’t seen Gertie in months.”
“She said she saw you last week.”
Gunther’s brow furrows, trying to put two and two together. The more he tries, the more frustrated he gets, before he shakes his head. “Why can’t I remember anything properly?”
“Does this happen all the time?”
“I … I don’t know. It’s just that I’ll think things are one way, and then someone will correct me, and it’s like I’ve forgotten entire events. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Mason reaches a hand forward, gently placing it over his. “We’ll figure it out, alright? Gertie seems to think that Archeron or that house has something to do with it.”
“I don’t know,” Gunther sighs. “It might be medical? Like maybe something’s going wrong in my head.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“Archeron has needed me a lot lately. He’s been keeping me busy.”
“You need to take some time for yourself.”
“Hard to do that when you’re the only one left.” There’s an edge of bitterness there, something he hasn’t seen in Gunther before. Mason doesn’t like it.
“I’m sorry. But this is just a job, Gunther. You could just quit.”
A wave of emotion stirs over his face, trying to parse the different level of emotions that come with it. Mason can see he’s struggling with it and doesn’t rush him.
“I don’t know how to leave.”
“Maybe right now, we just don’t go back. You can come stay with me until you land on your feet. I can send for your things. A clean break.”
A desperate one, to be sure. Mason doesn’t know if it’s worth going to that extreme, but sometimes you simply need to walk away. Gunther doesn’t seem convinced.
“Give me some time to think about it. I don’t know if I could do that to the old man.”
“I understand.” Mason gives his hand a squeeze. “Why don’t we have another drink in a few days? You can let me know then.”
They agree, but when Mason arrives on their designated day, Archeron greets him at the door instead of Gunther. He winds up in the country, instead of having that drink. He doesn’t regain this memory until after Archeron’s death.
It’s hard to imagine how he never saw the problem staring him right in the face.
now i don't take pleasure in a man's pain | murder train | 600
Gertie’s instructions are very specific. Pay a call on Gunther and the old man. See if you can get Gunther out of the house for a drink. See the clues and then try to convince him to walk away from the house. He does the first two, despite Archeron’s intense gaze, but the clues are still eluding him. At least until a few drinks are warming their bellies, and Gunther looks up at him curiously.
“So what brought you over? You don’t exactly make social calls with us anymore.”
Mason raises an eyebrow. “I’m not allowed to visit my mentor?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying there isn’t precedent.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” He leans back in his seat, studying his friend carefully. The bags under his eyes, the sallowness of his skin—something isn’t right. He can see now why Gertie is upset and looking to get him out from under Archeron’s thumb.
“So? Why are we having this drink, Mason?”
“Gertie asked me to see you. I think she was trying to make sure that someone else is seeing what she’s seeing.” He grimaces as his fingers tease the edge of the glass. “And I’m thinking I am.”
Gunther blinks, looking confused. “I haven’t seen Gertie in months.”
“She said she saw you last week.”
Gunther’s brow furrows, trying to put two and two together. The more he tries, the more frustrated he gets, before he shakes his head. “Why can’t I remember anything properly?”
“Does this happen all the time?”
“I … I don’t know. It’s just that I’ll think things are one way, and then someone will correct me, and it’s like I’ve forgotten entire events. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Mason reaches a hand forward, gently placing it over his. “We’ll figure it out, alright? Gertie seems to think that Archeron or that house has something to do with it.”
“I don’t know,” Gunther sighs. “It might be medical? Like maybe something’s going wrong in my head.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“Archeron has needed me a lot lately. He’s been keeping me busy.”
“You need to take some time for yourself.”
“Hard to do that when you’re the only one left.” There’s an edge of bitterness there, something he hasn’t seen in Gunther before. Mason doesn’t like it.
“I’m sorry. But this is just a job, Gunther. You could just quit.”
A wave of emotion stirs over his face, trying to parse the different level of emotions that come with it. Mason can see he’s struggling with it and doesn’t rush him.
“I don’t know how to leave.”
“Maybe right now, we just don’t go back. You can come stay with me until you land on your feet. I can send for your things. A clean break.”
A desperate one, to be sure. Mason doesn’t know if it’s worth going to that extreme, but sometimes you simply need to walk away. Gunther doesn’t seem convinced.
“Give me some time to think about it. I don’t know if I could do that to the old man.”
“I understand.” Mason gives his hand a squeeze. “Why don’t we have another drink in a few days? You can let me know then.”
They agree, but when Mason arrives on their designated day, Archeron greets him at the door instead of Gunther. He winds up in the country, instead of having that drink. He doesn’t regain this memory until after Archeron’s death.
It’s hard to imagine how he never saw the problem staring him right in the face.