When Mr Black stepped through the door, all he could see was the surprise on the face of the man standing next to the body. As if he had never seen a dead man before. Which was preposterous. He was Mr Black’s apprentice, dead bodies was their business. When the man saw him he looked to be absolutely exploding.
Mr Black let out a sigh and closed his eyes. “Yes, Atherton?”
“I killed him dead!”
“Yes,” Mr Black said, tapping his cane. “That’s what we do.”
“No, no, “ Atherton said, pointing at the man on the floor. “I killed him.”
“Obviously.” Mr Black paused a moment before adding: “Good job.” The Administrator liked to point out that he did not encourage his apprentices enough.
“But he weren’t supposed to … to fall off his branch yet.”
“Perch,” Mr Black sighed.
“What?”
“Perch, Atherton. Fall off his perch.” Mr Black frowned. “Wait, what did you say?”
“His name weren’t Norton,” Atherton said and handed him a parchment. William Abigail Norton was written in the Administrator’s fine script.
“Well then, who was he?” Mr Black said and gave it back.
“He weren’t no Norton, that’s for sure,” Atherton said, rolling up the parchment. “He was nutty as a cheesecake, throwing things and what not at that other guy. So I thought it were him.”
“Fruitcake,” Mr Black said. “Nutty as a fruitcake.” Why are these ones always assigned to me? he thought. “So this other … guy. Was he our man?”
“Probably were, didn’t ask.”
Mr Black sighed. “Come on Atherton. The Administrator is no doubt dying to hear of this.”
“So the boy made a mistake,” the Administrator said, studying Mr Black over her glasses. “Not the first one in your care.”
“Well, the termination clause was your idea, remember?”
“Because you couldn’t seem to keep your apprentices in check.” Assign me the imbeciles and give me the blame, he thought. Thanks ma’am.
“I really don’t see why I should have an apprentice at all,” he said.
“Don’t be silly, who knows what the future holds for you?”
“Well, as sole taker here at Sentient Spieces, I have a hunch.”
“Mr Webster over at Non-Sentient Spieces said the same,” she said. “Now, all he can do is the administrative duties. Care to give him a hand?”
Mr Black snorted. “I’ve done my part of that slush,” he said. “But you know that.”
“Mr Black, let me be blunt,” the Administrator said, folding her hands on the desk before her. “Your job is not a one-way street, it’s a cycle. It never ends. That’s why I need someone to fill your shoes when it’s your time to be pushing up the daisies.” She arched an eyebrow. “To be left without a competent man here at Sentient Spieces is … bad for business.”
“You could give me something to work with,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his waistcoat.
“Please,” she said. “You could work harder with what you have. Anyway, the boy made a mistake. Make sure it’s his only one.”
Mr Black tipped his hat and went for the door.
“And Mr Black?” the Administrator said. He stopped and turned. “Put a little heart into it, will you? We can’t afford to pay off any more apprentices’ families.”
Mr Black walked thoughtfully down the stairway, tapping his cane on only the black flagstones. Atherton sat wide-eyed in one of the wing chairs by the fireplace, looking up at him.
“So, Mr Black, sir” Atherton said. “What she say?”
“An honest mistake, boy,” Mr Black said. “Let’s just put this all behind us.”
“No point crying over spilled eggs, eh?”
“Milk,” Mr Black said. “Crying over spilled …” He looked over at Atherton, forcing an apologetic smile. “Nevermind.”
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar