The outline of a long curtain materialized. Stroking the fabric turned up no wall beneath it, which meant that this was one of the two curtains seen through the peephole.
Lucien stuck his head through a drapery part and located the dangling light globe, which still swayed; the researcher met at the door was not thought tall enough to strike his head against it. The bottom of its verglas bowl was opaque with dead bugs, which, in their number, diminished the strength of the incandescent bulb.
The trespasser looked to the wall beneath the fixture in anticipation of finding a puncture, yet discovered not one but two. The second hole resided in a large easel oil painting of a bed, while the first hole, the one of which he had availed himself, was spied inside it.
This canvas tear aligned advantageously with a part in panels of a bed skirt circling the depicted bed, but this was no typical bed skirt. Constrained light from an unrealized candle described the essential features of the four-poster bed, yet this structure’s towering height was composed almost entirely of skirt. The fabric eerily resembled full-length stage curtains, and matched in dimension and color those framing the narrow corridor. The effect increased a sense of claustrophobia.
The marble white mattress atop this structure was thrust nearly to a ceiling. This created the appearance of a shelf, or pocket of shadow, where no light, not even the weakest light, could reach. Nothing of the person sleeping atop this bed was shown, so the space left him or her was imagined to be as airless as it was confining.
Despite his apprehension, Lucien approached the painting and peeked through its rupture, as care was taken in making it. He feared he would spy the telepathic seers reassembled in their adjacent room. (They would likely intuit his lurking presence behind the wall before spotting his incriminating eyeball in the wall hole.)
It was during this inspection that Lucien noted, directly below the tear, a footstool centered within the painting. Given the height of the colossal bed, this item was too short to aid any theoretical sleeper in obtaining its summit, yet in design this footstool strangely resembled the one next to his mother’s bed, which allowed her aged Shih Tzu to hop off and on her bed without assistance.
In his uncommitted retreat from the area, the explorer pushed on the second partition curtain forming the corridor; it yielded only partially, and revealed not a wall behind it but a shrouded object on a pedestal. Pulling this drapery aside, a large dollhouse was uncovered. This was one as several dollhouses, all spaced in a row.
He toured these models with understandable curiosity, yet could no more ascertain their meaning than what was attempted for the painting. The miniature rooms within these houses were modestly furnished, and few dolls occupied them. What figures he saw were not, in the main, featured near prominent windows. All had fallen over, but it was not clear if any had been disturbed.
Lucien inserted a finger through one panes-less window; all the furniture pieces were glued in place. Something in this arrangement unnerved him, especially since he could not touch any related doll and make the same determination about its placement.
None of these houses bore windows along the curtained side of their exteriors, which further reduced the available light to look inside them. The examiner wondered, in being struck by this detail, if these exposures faced north, which was traditionally a prospect of irreligious associations.
He saw no doll in the third house. Inspired (or possessed), the display was given a good shove. A loose hard object was heard to rock around inside it. Lucien squinted through the provided windows, but the presumed doll had not rolled clear of its hiding place. He feared his jolt may have caused it become lodged. A second and third shove were unsuccessful in producing the doll, and this led the agitator to conclude that this hidden feature was, perhaps, intentional.
Whoever fabricated these dollhouses took pains in executing every detail to scale. Leaving loose or toppled dolls in place did not fit with this fastidiousness, however. Doubtless distress was part of a narrative: Were these forensic reenactments of crime scenes? This seemed unlikely since nothing in the prone and supine figures on display suggested violent ends.
Lucien would not shake any of the other houses, and knew these would not produce the same rattling effect.
During his paroxysm, another glance was spared for the painting of the dark bed, which was now several feet away from him. The depicted footstool appeared moved. It was no longer parallel with the bed skirt but turned into it, enough to separate skirting panels and reveal a dark crevice, which, consequently, included the tear.
He was certain from his earlier inspection that this rupture in the canvas did not align with depicted panels this manner. Moreover, the tear had grown much longer, although nothing of the heavy cotton weave was heard to rip in the preceding minutes. Lucien would not approach the painting again, but believed the effect he saw was due to penetration enacted by someone (or something) pushing on the canvas from the other side, similar to the business he witnessed with the cloaked hand in the curtain. And yet, only a sturdy wall bearing a small hole was on the other side of the painting; and no one of small stature had, in his presence, found opportunity to crawl behind the picture frame.
The frightened test subject was already tracking back through the first curtain and door. On recovering the seers’ room, and then the hallway, shoes were heard bounding his way from the locked exit that earlier foiled him.
Lucien scurried back into his designated room, and had scarcely committed to the chair before a researcher charged in behind him. The fifty-ish ginger had rosacea and an age-inappropriate haircut. Lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses were fogged, which indicated that he had been standing too near an air conditioner vent in the minute prior; he did not wipe away this condensation. A four-beverage paper carrier tray was in his hand, although it contained only one medium size drink. It was as if the fellow had been interrupted during a Starbuck’s run, and was sent down the hall in a dash to catch the meddling snoop. He seemed on the moment of dispensing coffee as part of a complimentary breakfast service but, instead, circled the desk and planted himself in the second chair. A grease stain drew attention to his pocket: same lab coat, different technician.
The idea that conspirators were forced to share a jacket added to the nefarious comedy. Moreover, it was inconceivable that such small premises could employ so many people whose duties appeared, to the participant, to overlap, unless one or more of these individuals were covering vacated positions during lunch breaks.
“Have you finished the drawing?” the man asked curtly.
The artist flubbed a response.
The drawing, all but forgotten in the confusion, was examined with a corkscrew expression, in spite of fogged glasses. When the sketch was released with a dismissive flair, it fluttered end over end before wedging under the sketcher’s elbow on the other side of the desk.
“It’s a mere doodle,” remarked the piqued creator. “A dog, probably.”
“A dog?“ responded the researcher incredulously. “It’s rather lumpy for a dog.”
“I am not an artist,” Lucien reiterated.
“What is its scale?”
“Scale…?”
“You didn’t include a scale.”
“Was I to include a scale? It is a dog. About dog size.”
The fellow removed a pen from his soiled coat pocket, engaged its spring-loaded cartridge, and scrawled a note on his clipboard with audible pressure. “Is your dog two-legged or four legged?” he mumbled.
Lucien recalled what he heard charging after him in the hallway seconds before, and suspected that the pointed question hinted at mischievous choreography.
“You’re free to go,” the man announced suddenly before galloping to the door without his coffee.
The volunteer returned upstairs to the lobby in an agitated state, and was not surprised to find the stack of magazines fallen and scattered over the floor beside the water cooler.
The cardboard box formerly sitting on top of the pile was not among them.
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