Martin nods curtly. "I did want to ask: Does Alexander receive any visitors other than Dr. Trollope?" He mentioned someone named Quarrie, yesterday. Do you know who he's referring to?"
Dr. Highsmith flips through his folder again and consults a log sheet.
"Doctor Trollope has been his only visitor since he has been here and he has received no correspondence. Perhaps this Mr. Quarrie was a friend of his before his residence here?"
"Could be, or perhaps another patient? perhaps the pseudonym or imagined persona of a fellow patient?"
"Quite true, Mr. Poole.", Dr. Highsmith says,"If you come across a copy of this play that Alexander is fixated upon, please let me know. I would be curious for some further window into his condition. ..."
That will not be happening... Lucian thinks grimly to himself, his mind back in his borrowed copy of The King In Yellow. I'm certainly not bringing that book into an asylum.
"Could be, or perhaps another patient? perhaps the pseudonym or imagined persona of a fellow patient?"
Dr. Highsmith shakes his head.
"I'm afraid not: none of our patients respond to the name 'Quarrie' and their time spent socializing amongst themselves is monitored."
Martin nods thoughtfully. "Does Alexander socialize with the other patients at all?"
"A bit... during his lucid months. Little beyond common small talk- I take it that he was always something of an introvert. As you've seen, he can be quite reticent to communicate while he is medicated."
Lucian sits quietly, thoughtfully tapping his finger to the side of his head, mulling over the interview and the conversation with the good doctor. Quarrie, eh?, he thinks. A fitting name for someone we'd like to find.
Martin nods. "Well, doctor, I'm sorry we don't have better news for you. Given Mr. Robys reluctance to allow his brother home, however, and Alexander's less than stellar condition yesterday it just doesn't seem wise quite yet. Is there anything else we can do for you? It's a shame we came all this way to be of such little help."
He pats his pockets to ensure a cigar is still there and then stops. "Just to be clear...you mentioned lucid months. Is there a pattern there? Is he more lucid in certain times of the year and worse at others?"
Spencer does his best in giving supporting nods to affirm Martins position, although he does stop to hear about whether there may be news forthcoming about patterns or behaviours.
Psychoanalysis v 31
Indeed some patients may be afflicted by such vagaries as the changing of the seasons, weather, or even the phase of the moon. Have you noted any such things that may have arisen? Perhaps a set of dates we could then match back to an Ephemeris?
Doctor Highsmith seems taken aback by your decision.
"...Part of that may be that he has to be heavily medicated during this season; his scotophobia flairs up between October and December, the months around the time of his trauma. During the rest of the year, Alexander is quite lucid....."
Spencer:
"Perhaps we can revisit this in January, once his more difficult period has passed?"
Victor nods in agreement with Martin. "Seeing Alex during his bad times and his good times will help at least with gaining some perspective."
"Unfortunately, however, it would only appease your curiosity- an Order on Petition in British law commits a patient for two years,"Dr. Highsmith explains,"but after that time, he is either committed for life or released to a caregiver. When the time for his review arrives at the end of November, it seems that he will be remaining here permanently."
Shocked by this latest announcement, Martin fumbles for a cigar and tucks it into his mouth without even thinking. "Excuse me, but I thought we were discussing an early release. You're saying that if Alexander doesn't leave now he'll never leave?"
"The law being as it is presently: yes. I remain optimistic that more progressive views will prevail over time, but currently once an individual has been institutionalized on his family's order for more than two years he is either deemed fit for release to a family member or a rest home or institutionalized permanently. To be honest, I had not expected his family's resistance to Alexander's release until Dr. Trollope informed me of it shortly before we met."
Sucking on his cigar but not yet lighting it, Martin nods. "Everything makes a lot more sense now. I wish we could help but I have no doubt that if Mr. Roby saw Alexander as he is now, he'd refuse to reconsider."
Dr. Highsmith nods.
"Regrettable, but I wouldn't doubt it."
Victor doesn't have much to add to the rest of the conversation, but once we are out of the doctor's office, he'll share the conversation that he overheard in the hallway.
Dr. Highsmith clears his throat and stands, extending a hand to each of you.
"You have my thanks for your valuable input, gentlemen, and I hope you will take the opportunity to enjoy some of Weobley's rustic charm before returning to London. When you're ready, one of our orderlies or Mr. Reeves will drive you back to the Wheat Sheaf or to the train station, as your plans dictate. I'm afraid I have some remaining paperwork to undertake and some sessions later in the day. Do keep me informed if anything else regarding Mr. Roby's case comes up."
Your interview with the asylum's superintendent over, you gather your coats and step out into the cold and windy courtyard.
Victor turns to his colleagues, "I din't want to mention it in front of the doctor, but I overheard two orderlies discussing what seemed to be some sort of violent incident. Not sure if it had anything to do with Roby, but if it did, I doubt Dr. Highsmith would have made us privy to it. Couldn't hurt to look into it while we are here, right?"
Martin lights his cigar and nods. "Indeed. I imagine violence occurs from time to time in an environment like this but I can't deny my curiosity."
"Why yes, of course it sounds like a fine idea to wander about an asylum looking for violent inmates," Lucian says drily. "Now why didn't I think of it?" Despite his sarcasm, the dilettante ceases buttoning up his coat and puts his gloves back in his pocket. "Let's get this over with, hmm?"
A heavy-set orderly with close-cropped black hair steps out of the offices shortly after you've had a chance to talk.
"Your pardon, sirs.",he says as he shrugs on his coat,"Will ye be needin' a lift into town?"
"Yes a quick look around might be in order, would hate to find out later we missed something important."
***
"A most generous offer my good man, we will be finished here presently and then would be delighted top take up such an offer, where should we come to meet you when we are ready?"
Thinking quickly, Lucian moves into action. "Actually, my man, I'm wondering where you have hidden the bathroom in this establishment - I've been looking about, but have completely missed where it is."
The orderly nods to Spencer's statement.
"Very well, sir. I'll have some work in the courtyard to take care of; snow's bound to come early this year."
He points back into the building with Dr. Highsmith's office.
"Oh, yes of course. If you head back into the administration building, take a left past the offices there's a washroom at the end of the hall on the left side."
Lucian nods thankfully to the orderly. "Thank you, my good man. We'll find you once we're all ready to leave." Lucian promptly heads towards the administrative building.
Once inside, however, he walks slowly and quietly, ears perked up for any snatches of conversation in the vicinity. He also takes care to turn right instead of left, exploring the parts of the administrative building away from the restroom.
Spencer joins up with Lucian "A quick look about eh? Never know what we might find; I'm an avid reader and amateur at all this caper, so its rather interesting to me to get out in the field and see whats what"
Martin talks a slow walk around the grounds outside of the administration building, taking everything in as he puffs thoughtfully at his cigar.
Spencer joins up with Lucian "A quick look about eh? Never know what we might find; I'm an avid reader and amateur at all this caper, so its rather interesting to me to get out in the field and see whats what"
"Following me to the bathroom, Mr. Reeves?," Lucian jests quietly, eyes twinkling. "What Wildean antics will they suspect of us?" He takes a cautious look around to ensure that no one is paying attention to the two of them. "I figure that the people running the place have the best chance of having some sort of dark secrets for us to discover. So let's keep our eyes open, hm?"
"Well I might have gone to boarding school, but I was never one to participate in the fineries of Wildes tastes, but these people can think what they like... I'm rather fond of getting to the truth of a matter and can't but help feel they aren't being on the level with us"
Lucian and Victor find the hallway to the restroom mostly quiet: what little conversation overheard you can deem inconsequential- medication regimens, scheduled visits, a phone call to the local village to arrange for a larger delivery of firewood in anticipation of the coming winter. Turning right, away from the water closet, you face a stairwell rising to the administration wing's second story. Ascending, you find yourself in a hallway more warmly decorated than the previous- a rug here and there, framed pictures. A surreptitious glance about reveals that this is a spartan dormitory wing, likely for the asylum staff pulling night shifts or in permanent residence. Finding nothing untoward, Spencer turns back toward the stairwell... but something holds Lucian's attention at the window at the wing's end.
Lucian:
As Victor and Martin pass their time in the courtyard, a light flurry begins; the grey sky disgorging thousands of there tiny white passengers to float, doomed, to the still just barely warm ground. On your circuit of the grounds, you note two orderlies stepping out of the patient wing. One tamps a pack of cigarettes, the other crossing his arms and looking up into the sky. They spare you a sullen glance but continue their business. Victor stops and stares into the rolling countryside.
Victor:
"I wonder if those are the orderlies that I hear.."Victor's voice trails off and his pace slows down to a stop, eyes locked on the sky.
"Dreadful weather," Martin grumbles and then glances over at Victor. "Something wrong there, mate?"
Lucian reaches to grab Spencer's arm. "Spencer, among your many and varied talents, would you count ornithology among them? I have a question about bird behavior." The dilettante gives a hollow laugh, still staring huntedly out the window.
"Well only as much as any Englishman has an appreciation for small birds, why what is it you have seen?"
Spencer looks about and tries to follow Lucians gaze.
Victor:
Lucian:
Lucian shakes his head. "Just an... oddity," Lucian says. "A murder upon the windowsill, that's all... Of crows, I mean!," he says. "Acting strangely, is all, bouncing off the windows like they wanted to come in."
Victor visibly jumps in response to Martins query. "I'm.. not sure. I may need to sit." Victor's voice is weak and shaky. The carpenter wanders over to a bench in the courtyard, sits, pulls out his notepad and begins scribbling the shape of a robed figure on a snowy plain.
"Understandable enough, what with this horrid weather, warmers indoors than out eh?"
After a moments pause, Spencer continues...
"Well lets have a last look about before leaving eh?"
Martin follows Victor over to the bench and stands awkwardly beside him. After a moment he leans over to catch a glimpse of the pad and the man's scribbles.
"Struck by inspiration, eh?"
"Understandable enough, what with this horrid weather, warmers indoors than out eh?"
After a moments pause, Spencer continues...
"Well lets have a last look about before leaving eh?"
Lucian gives a hollow laugh at Spencer's humor. At the man's last suggestion, he nods. "Hate to leave a stone unturned, hm?"
Martin follows Victor over to the bench and stands awkwardly beside him. After a moment he leans over to catch a glimpse of the pad and the man's scribbles.
"Struck by inspiration, eh?"
"You.. could say that." Victor puts down his pencil and rubs his eyes.
"It was another damned vision. I thought I had seen the last of them." The carpenter stands and slips his notepad back into his pocket.
"Lets get out of this place before they decide to make me a permanent resident."
Martin nods agreeable and walks beside Victor, rubbing his chin ruefully. "I wonder if the vision came because of something present here and now. If Alexander is involved in what we've been experiencing, it would stand to reason that others out here may be as well. Was the vision similar to those you've had in the past?"
"In a way, yes, but only that it was tied to the play. Normally my visions are in some way related to the lake that bordered Carcosa. This time though, I was on a plain and saw the figure cloaked in white.. the white acolyte perhaps? Then a sense of loss." Victor pulls out his notepad to show Martin the scene that he had been drawing, and notices that he drew in the large star Aldebaran. "This star has recently been very predominant at night. It's strange that it has begun to show up in these visions. That may be worth looking into when we get back to London."