“Problematic? What’s that supposed to—”
“Your job will be to make sure everything is on the up-and-up,” Handsome said, a small smile on his face. “It’s important, you see. The master of this specific orphanage, one Arthur Parnassus, is certainly qualified, but we have … concerns. The six children are of the more extreme variety, and we must make sure that Mr. Parnassus continues to be capable of managing them. One would be a handful, but six of them?”
Linus wracked his brain. He was sure he’d heard of all of the masters in the region, but—“I’ve never heard of Mr. Parnassus.”
“No, I don’t suppose you have,” the woman said. “But that’s why it’s classified level four. If you had, it would mean we had a leak. We don’t do well with leaks, Mr. Baker. Is that understood? Leaks need to be plugged. Swiftly.”
“Yes, yes,” he said hastily. “Of course. I would never—”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Jowls said. “It’s part of the reason why you were chosen. One month, Mr. Baker. You will spend one month on the island where the orphanage is located. We will expect weekly reports. Anything that raises alarms must be reported immediately.”
Linus felt his eyes bulge. “A month? I can’t leave for a month. I have duties!”
“Your current caseload will be reassigned,” the bespectacled man said. “In fact, it’s already being done.” He flipped to another paper. “And it says here you are quite alone. No spouse. No children. No one to miss you if you had to leave for any extended length of time.”
That stung more than it should have. He was aware of such things, of course, but to have them so blatantly laid bare caused his heart to stutter. But still—“I have a cat!”
Handsome snorted. “Cats are solitary creatures, Mr. Baker. I’m sure it won’t even know you’re gone.”
“Your reports will be directed to Extremely Upper Management,” the woman said. “They will be overseen by Mr. Werner, though we will all be involved.” She nodded toward Handsome. “And we expect them to be as thorough as the ones you’ve done in the past. In fact, we insist upon it. More so, if you deem necessary.”
“Ms. Jenkins—”
“Will be informed of your special assignment,” Handsome—Mr. Werner—assured him. “Though the details will be kept at a minimum. Think of this as a promotion, Mr. Baker. One that I believe is a long time in coming.”
“Don’t I have a say in this?”
“Think of this as a mandatory promotion,” Mr. Werner corrected. “We expect big things from you. And who knows where this could lead for you if it all goes well? Please don’t let us down. Now, feel free to take the rest of the day to get your affairs in order. Your train leaves tomorrow, bright and early. Do you have any questions?”
Dozens. He had dozens of questions. “Yes! What about—”
“Excellent,” Mr. Werner said, clapping his hands. “I knew we could count on you, Mr. Baker. We look forward to hearing from you about the state of affairs on the island. It should be interesting, to say the least. Now, all this blathering on has left my throat parched. I do think it’s time for tea. Our secretary will show you out. It was lovely to meet you.”
Extremely Upper Management stood as one, bowed down at him, and then all the lights went out.
Linus squeaked. Before he could begin to fumble in the dark, a light switched back on at the top of the wall. He blinked up at it. Mr. Werner stared down at him, a curious expression on his face. The others were already gone.
“Something else?” Linus asked nervously.
Mr. Werner said, “Beware, Mr. Baker.”
That was certainly ominous. “Beware?”
Mr. Werner nodded. “You must prepare yourself. I cannot stress enough how important this assignment is. Leave no detail out, no matter how small or inconsequential it may seem.”
Linus bristled. It was one thing to question his readiness, but it was something else entirely to question the thoroughness of his reports. “I always—”
“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in what you find,” Mr. Werner said, ignoring Linus’s spluttering indignation. “It goes beyond mere inquisitiveness.” He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t like being disappointed, Mr. Baker. Please don’t disappoint me.”
“Why this place?” he asked rather helplessly. “What brought this orphanage to your attention and requires the oversight of a caseworker? Has the master done something to—”
“It’s rather what he hasn’t done,” Mr. Werner said. “His monthly reports are … lacking, especially in the face of who his charges are. We need to know more, Mr. Baker. Order only works if there is complete transparency. If we can’t have that, then we run the risk of chaos. Is there anything else?”
“What? Yes. I’ve—”
“Good,” Mr. Werner said. “I wish you luck. I think you’ll need it.”
And with that, the light went out yet again.
“Oh dear,” Linus said.
The golden lights on the floor lit up once more.
“Are you quite finished?” a voice said near his ear.
He absolutely did not scream, no matter the evidence to the contrary.
Ms. Bubblegum stood behind him, gum snapping. “This way, Mr. Baker.” She spun around, dress flaring at her knees, and marched toward the exit.
Linus followed her quickly, only glancing over his shoulder once into the darkness.
* * *
She waited for him just outside the chambers, tapping her foot with impatience. Linus was quite out of breath by the time he passed through the open door. He couldn’t be sure what had just happened was anything more than a fever dream. He certainly felt feverish. It was possible Ms. Bubblegum was a hallucination conjured up by a previously undiagnosed illness.
A very pushy hallucination, to be sure, as she thrust a thick folder into his hands, causing him to fumble and almost drop his briefcase. “Train ticket is inside,” she said. “In addition, you’ll find a sealed envelope with the files you’ll be needing. I don’t know what it’s about, and I don’t care. I’m paid not to snoop, if you can believe that. You’re not to open the envelope until you’ve stepped off the train at your final destination.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Linus said weakly.
She squinted at him. “Of course you can sit down. Just make sure you do it far away from here. Your train leaves at seven tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. Extremely Upper Management will be most displeased if you’re late.”
“I need to go back down to my desk, and—”
“Absolutely not, Mr. Baker. I have been instructed to tell you that you are to exit the premises without delay. Speak to no one. I don’t think that should be a problem for you, but it had to be said.”
“I have no idea what’s going on,” he said. “I’m not even sure if I’m here.”
“Yes,” Ms. Bubblegum said sympathetically. “Sounds like quite the existential crisis. Perhaps consider having it somewhere else.”