Chapter (8) A Change Is As Good As a Rest

Chapter (8).

A Change Is As Good As a Rest

 

“Mr Trent. Mr Trent.” He felt something moving his shoulder.

“Mr Trent. Wake up.” He opened his eyes a little and tried to sit up. The pungent aroma of fresh made coffee caressed the inside of his nostrils. Trent swung his legs down onto the wooden floor.

“What time is it Mags?” With his elbows resting on his knees he put his head in his hands.

“Good morning Mr Trent. It's a quarter after nine. I made you coffee. Do you want a Seltzer?”

“What? NO. No thank you Mags. I didn't drink last night.”  Maggie raised her eyebrows and stared at Trent. As he sat up straighter Maggie passed him the mug. She smiled.

“Careful it's hot.” she said in a motherly tone. Then without hesitation turned and moved away.

“I've taken the liberty of making some arrangements for you today, seeing as how I'm your secretary now.” Maggie had her back to him and was getting something from her bag. Just as quickly as she'd turned away she turned back and stood before him. A magazine was presented in front of his face. Maggie had it open at a large advertisement.

“Here. Mr Trent.” Maggies' finger tapped a picture of a sofa on the open page. “This morning we are going here.” 

“What Mags? What do you want?” He wasn't yet awake enough to take it all in.

“Here, Mr Trent. We are going here today to get you a new sofa bed. Look $25, they have them downtown in this store. You said you needed a real bed so today we are getting you one.” Trent sat and stared at the page in front of him. There was a new tone of authority in Maggies' voice. He liked it.

“Mr Trent yesterday you talked about new beginnings and such, and how you had come into some money, so today we are getting a new sofa bed and a desk. This office is going to look like an office.”  She turned her head this way and that looking around at the grubby little space. Trent knew she was right.

“Please drink your coffee we have a lot to do.” He took a couple more sips of the hot black fluid. Maggie put the magazine down on the table and moved to other side, sat down and lifted her mug and took a sip. She rested both elbows on the table and held the mug of coffee with both hands in front of her face.

For an instant, as she looked at him through the wisps of steam, Trent was seeing the face of his mother. In his mind Trent was a teenager again watching his mother doing the very same thing, as she had done most mornings before Trent had left for work. Maggies' soft tones broke through his thoughts.

“I took the liberty of telephoning the cab company this morning Mr Trent and they are sending a cab round at ten o'clock. Please go and clean up before it gets here. I've washed and ironed a clean shirt for you. It's on the back of that chair.” Maggie pointed a small delicate finger across the room then added.

“I've put a new razor and shaving soap on the bathroom shelf.” 

The cab arrived at ten on the dot and Maggie and Trent took the twenty minute ride up town. Maggie sat quietly looking out of the cab window. Trent was contemplating, lost in his own thoughts. Tomorrow evening he had something to do that was supposed to change the world of the future, but something was bothering him and he couldn't put his finger on it. He was staring at the passing alleyways when he suddenly grabbed Maggies' hand which was lying next to his on the seat.

“The man in Black, she said I could trust the man in black.” The sudden loudness of Trents' voice took Maggie by surprise.

“WHAT. Mr Trent you're hurting my hand.” A quick look down at her delicate hand in his and Trent quickly released it.

“I'm sorry Mags, I'm sorry. It's the man in black don't you see.” Maggie was staring into his face.

“Mr Trent I don't know anything about a man in black, I don't know what you're talking about.”

“No...no of course you don't, sorry Mags I'll explain it later.” Trent smiled to himself pleased with his realisation. Trent had had trouble accepting the experience had been real. Then he’d seen the dark glasses sitting on the top of the icebox. He didn't imagine those.

The cab stopped and they got out. Trent paid with a new $100 bill. The cabbie only just had enough change. Trent gave him a quarter for a tip

“Thank you sir. Thank you Madam.” The cabbie said as Trent closed the cab door and the pair turned to cross the sidewalk towards the furniture store.

“He called me Madam.” Maggie said and then she passed her arm through Trents', like they were Hollywood stars. It felt good.

The store was busy. Dark panelled walls and a long sales counter. They looked at furniture on three floors, twice, until Maggie decided on the pieces they should buy. Trent paid in cash and told the clerk they wanted the furniture delivered the next day. He especially liked the desk, it was large but Maggie had said it made him look very important when he sat down behind it.

A couple of hours later they were on their way back. Maggie chattered constantly during the ride back to the office, Trents' mind was elsewhere.

Once back in the office they wasted no time in starting to clear the place up. He was beginning to realise just how organised Maggie could be, she went from one task to the next in an effortless flow.

The little worn out table was put out into the corridor, in just a few minutes a neighbour asked if he could take it. They had several boxes of junk, mainly old papers and the like, Trent took those down to the sidewalk for the refuse collection. Mags was busy sweeping, dusting, washing and wiping. As he watched her it occurred to him that he knew little about her life away from the office. He wondered what her husband must be like. How had he had the good fortune to capture such a gal.

“Mags.” He stopped her from sweeping for a moment. She turned to face him.

“Yes Mr Trent.”  There was a curiosity in her voice.

“Mags. Are you...are you happy.”  Her face had a sudden quizzical look.

“I don't know what you mean Mr Trent. I like working for you if that's what you mean.” It wasn't. It wasn't what he'd meant at all.

“No...I mean... are you...Happy, with your life.”  She leaned the handle of the brush against the wall. Looking more serious she replied.

“Yes...I suppose so.”

“What makes you happy Mags?” She stood for a moment then added.

“Why are you asking me these questions Mr. Trent, have I done something to offend you?” Trent shot her a quick smile.

“No of course not Mags, I'm.....curious, it's just that you never seem to be upset by things.” Maggie sat down on the remaining chair.

“Well I was married young and my husband, well he's a gentle, considerate, kind man and he works hard to provide for us.” Then as an afterthought she added.

“... and we have our little apartment.”  Her voice was almost apologetic.

She looked down and not directly at him. It didn't seem to Trent that she felt happy.

“So what's missing Mags? Cos from over here I don't get it. You're bright, intelligent, pretty.”  Maggie looked up.

“You think I'm...pretty.” She was smiling again.

“Yes of course Mags. I know I've never said stuff like this before, but that was then. Now don't get me wrong, please Mags, I'm not trying to chat you up, I know you're married and I would never try to...”  He was digging himself into a hole. Maggie was giggling to herself as she stood up. Getting close to Trent she looked directly into his eyes.

“I know Mr Trent, but thank you, thank you for saying nice things about me.” She waited a couple of seconds and then added.

“A baby, Mr. Trent, I’d like a baby.” That statement really took him by surprise.

“You want a baby?” Trent could hear himself repeating it like a parrot. 

“So what's the problem Mags? Is it the money? Can't you afford to have one?” Maggie put her hands up to cover her face, he moved closer to her, she fell against him and buried her sweet face into his shoulder.

“Oh Mr Trent it's him, he can't have children.” She was crying now and shaking against his body, he wasn't sure how to handle this. His police training hadn't given him much experience in these situations. Trent searched for something to say.

“Well...what happened? Is he ill or something?” This was all new for Trent. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, or do.

“No, he's okay. But we've been trying for four years and there's nothing.” Trent was thinking 'four years wow' but he said.

“Well have you been to see a doctor?” That was the best he could think of, it seemed appropriate. Maggie stopped crying.

“No Mr Trent. We don't have the money for that. It's almost a dollar a visit and then we might have to go to the hospital too.”  Maggie pulled away and reached in her apron pocket for a handkerchief, drying her eyes she went on.

“Mr Carmody, That's my husband, he earns just enough to pay the apartment and the utilities. Everything I earn from you buys the food and anything else we need.” Carmody! Maggies' married name was Carmody, he hadn't known that.

“Well yes I see.” He knew all about being poor, you can live with that, but being too poor to have a child, he didn't want Mags to feel like that. It didn't take more than a second or two for him to come up with a solution. While he was thinking what to say, Maggie stood sniffling into her handkerchief. Trent turned away and moved across the room.

“Listen Mags, Tomorrow night I have this...thing...I have to do.  When it's all over I promise you I'll help you to sort out your little problem. Please, I don't want you to worry anymore, okay?”  Maggie grabbed him hard and threw her arms around him trapping him in a powerful hug. Trent liked that.

“Oh Mr Trent you're an angel.” She released him. Trent thought to himself  'Well if tomorrow goes wrong I might be.' Maggies' pretty face was looking up at his his. Trent looked deep into her tear reddened eyes then quickly added.

“Ok Whadya say, you take some petty cash and go get some cake, we can have it with a nice cup of coffee.”  Maggie smiled and undid her apron strings. She dropped it over the handle of the sweeping brush. As Maggie's footsteps disappeared down the hall way Trent flopped onto the couch. He ran his hand over the dirty worn fabric reminiscing. The two of them had spent many hours together. The new sofa bed and desk would be coming first thing in the morning.

Trent had a few minutes to think and he realised he'd need a new gun too. He would have to go down the cop shop and organise a new license as soon as this Asimov business was concluded. He had an affinity with his old .38 but he knew it had a history that could come back to bite him. As a cop he'd fired it many times and he'd killed a few men in the line of duty, but those were the bad times during the prohibition era. It wasn't the same as killing those hoodlums, that, had been an act of vengeance. He couldn't help thinking if he'd managed to get that last one, none of this would be necessary. If he'd killed him he wouldn't be around to attack this Asimov kid tomorrow night. He wondered too if any of those android things were walking around down here with ordinary people, maybe keeping an eye on things, making sure the timeline stayed as it should. He still had a lot of questions churning around in his mind.

As he was thinking about this he heard soft footsteps coming along the corridor. Opening the door Trent stepped out in to the corridor expecting to see Maggie. A sudden rush of disappointment ran through him, it lasted half a second. Instead he was greeted to a vision of loveliness in a pale green dress suit.

“Mr Trent I presume.” The doll elegantly extended a white gloved hand. He took it in his. She gave it a good shake.

“Yes I'm Mr Carlton Trent, and with whom do I have the pleasure?” The doll took her hand back. She walked past him and started to enter the office. At the door she stopped.

“Can we go into your office Mr Trent?”  Trent pushed out his arm to show her the way.

“Please..” he followed her inside. Her perfume smelled familiar. As she stood inside his office she started to delicately remove the white gloves from her fingers. The doll looked around, she was examining the office.

“I see you don't believe in too much furniture Mr Trent.”  She went forward and sat down on the remaining wooden chair and placed her gloves in her lap.

“Actually we're in the middle of a spring clean.”  It was true, but it just sounded lame. The doll sat waiting.

“I'd prefer it if you'd sit down please Mr Trent.” Where was Maggie?, he needed her here. He wasn't sure what to say when he was sober. To be fair he didn't know what to say when he was drunk either. Trent closed the door behind him and sat down on the old couch.

“Mr Trent I'll come straight to the point...” 

“That would be good, I always say let's get straight to the point.” She looked at him in a way that made him feel small.

“Please don't interrupt me again Mr Trent, I do not appreciate that.”  The doll had some venom, he liked that. Shoes, always look at the shoes, black leather short heels. He had his eyes down when she poked his shoulder with a thin hard finger, he sat upright.

“As I had started to say Mr Trent, my name is Camille Duprey and I need your help.”  As she continued speaking Trent had only heard the word 'Camille'. Something came over him and without thinking he jumped up and grabbing her by the arm he lifted her off the chair and man handled her to the door. This did not impress her.

“What are you doing you imbecile?”  Her free hand moved with lightening speed and Trent didn't see it coming. Thwaaack, a million bees stung his face as her hand swiftly made contact with his cheek. She had slapped him, she had slapped him hard, really hard. Trent released her arm and stepped back feeling the heat turn his cheek red. He touched the painful place with his hand.

“You mean you're not ... one of those...” He'd learned enough to know that the androids can't harm people in any way. That slap was like a breath of fresh air, painful but reasuring.

“I don't know what your problem is Mr Trent but I came here in answer to this advertisement in the local press.”  She produced a neat wrap of newsprint and unfolded it. He took the page. He didn't remember placing any advertising in the rag.

“I'm really sorry I thought you were some kind of andr...” Trent managed to check myself before he said android. He was thinking this dame probably already thinks I'm some kind of nut, if I started talking about robot women and the like she'll know for sure. Trent quickly checked himself and carried on.

“..Some kind of advertising rep.”  That was lame and he didn't know if she bought it or not.

“We've been having a few problems.” He placed his hand gently on her back to ushered her back to the chair giving her his best smile.

“Please Mrs Duprey, please sit down, I'm so sorry to have upset you. It won't happen again.”  The dame straightened her jacket and sat back into the chair. She gave a little tweak with her neck, placed her hands on her lap. Trent retrieved the gloves that had fallen to the floor and passed them to her. As he sat back on the couch the doll added

“Thank you Mr Trent, and it's Miss,”

“I'm sorry?” He replied, “What is?”

“My name, it's Miss Duprey, I'm not married.” Her creamy white skin was flawless. A pair of deep green eyes looked back at him. 

“Well, Miss Duprey, now that we've been formally introduced please tell me why you have come to me.”  He was trying to be as professional as he could be. It was then that the door opened and Maggie walked in. Trent jumped up.

“Arh here you are Mags, this is Miss Duprey she's here seeking our services.”  Maggie placed the little pack of cakes on the side of the sink and came over. Maggie put out her hand in welcome. The dame took it and the handshake was made.

“Very pleased to meet you Miss Duprey, Maggie Carmody, I'm Mr Trents assistant.” Trent was impressed, Mags was sure taking her role seriously.  Maggie looked up and he could see she was studying his face.

“Your face is very red Mr Trent, is everything alright?” Instinctively he touched the site of the slap, without waiting for an answer Maggie turned her attention back to the dame in the green suit. So much for her concern for his recent painful incident.

“Can I get you a coffee miss? We have cake too.”

“No thank you so much. I have little time and I would like to explain myself.”  Trent liked this dame, she smelled good too.

“You see Mr. Trent my father has a quite unique and very expensive  collection of dolls.”  He wasn't expecting those words. It's usually about unfaithful husbands or lost pets, but dolls, this was a first.

 

“Dolls?”

“Yes Mr Trent, Bisque dolls. More commonly known as Porcelain Dolls, mostly German you know.” Well he didn't know but he wasn't going to say so. The only dolls he knew anything about were the kind that wore red lipstick and smelled real nice. He did once date a girl from a German family but she had these huge brothers. A glare from the dame and Trent got his mind back to the matter in hand.

“And I'm guessing these dolls are valuable Miss Duprey.” That seemed like a good question to ask.

“Quite Mr Trent. Altogether the collection is probably worth approximately $150,000.”

“Phewwwwwww weeeee” The whistle came out of it's own accord.

“How many of these dolls have been stolen miss Duprey?” The dame gave a slight smile.

 “No Mr Trent, I'm afraid you have misunderstood me. The dolls are not missing, not yet anyway.” He was listening, he was confused but he WAS listening. He had a question or two.

“And you have reason to think someone is trying to steal them?” The dame nodded.

“It's rather complicated Mr Trent and I'm not sure you'll believe what I have to tell you.” Trent allowed himself a little smile.

“Miss Duprey you would be amazed at what I can believe. So what's so special about these dolls that someone would want to steal them? Why not just go and buy some more from the store.”  He was curious and it seemed a reasonable question. The Dame had a stern look on her face.

“Dolls such as these cannot be bought from a store Mr Trent. They are handmade, in limited editions, from the best doll makers in Germany. Some of these dolls could be sold for up to ten thousand dollars each.” Trent gasped, Maggie banged a mug on the sink board as she prepared coffee for them. Then she turned to face in their direction.

“Excuse me Miss but who would pay so much for a child's dolly?” Maggie had asked a good question. He wanted to know that too. The dame turned to face Mags.

“These are not toys for children you understand, no, these dolls are like fine antique jewellery, some of the clothes they wear are over a hundred years old. You see there are serious collectors all over the world who will pay a small fortune to own some of these dolls. Especially those that were made during the Great War years.”

Trent stood up as he asked

“And what is it that we can do for you Miss Duprey if the dolls haven't been stolen?” Maggie came towards them with his coffee. Trent took the hot mug from her.

“Thank you Mags.”

“You see Mr Trent, I beleive my father's collection may be in danger.” 

“Are you sure you won't have a coffee miss?” The dame looked up at Maggie. She shook her head and gave Mags a smile. Turning back to face Trent, Mags added.

“What makes you think that miss?” Maggie had stepped in quick with the question, she was good at this.

“We have noticed a strange man in a black coat with a black hat watching the house on several occasions.” Black coat and hat, that had a familiar ring to it thought Trent.

“ This man in the hat, did you notice anything else about him, or his clothes?” He was fishing.

“I'm not sure really. As I say he had a long black flowing coat and a hat.” Trent tried again

“Did you notice anything about the hat?” Her eyes widened.

“The rim, it had a flat rim, a large flat rim that hid his face.” Trent wondered. Was it possible? It sure sounded like the crow that had paid him a visit with the money. While he was still thinking about it the doll added.

“I think you need to know Mr Trent that last evening the same man came to the house and asked to speak to me. Of course my father and I were suspicious but he insisted and so we allowed him to enter the hallway.”

“What did he want to talk about.” Asked Trent.

“He told me that you Mr Trent, you needed one of my fathers' dolls, a particular doll with a frilly red dress and black hair. Well we were surprised and wondered how he knew about that particular doll, you see it's very rare and quite possibly the only one of its kind in the world. Both Trent and Maggie looked at each other and then at Miss Duprey.

“But I don't know your father or his doll collection Miss Duprey, why on earth would this man tell you this. I wonder what's so special about this doll? What else can you tell me Miss Duprey.” The dame looked thoughtful then added.

“Well she's over fifty years old, she's supposed to have been made for a princess and we know that her clothes were made by the maids of the Royal house of Hamburg.”

“ No that's not it, is there anything else, does she have a special name or something?”

“I don't know if it's special but her name is Alexandra.”

“Say that again Miss, that bit about the dolls name.”

“As I said she's called Alexandra.” His mind was working overtime as Trent started to pace across the small room. Maggie could see that something wasn't right. The dames' voice cut into his thoughts.

“Mr Trent what is it, what do you know about this?”

“Tell me miss Duprey, does the number three mean anything to you?”

“How did you know Mr Trent? You see she has a number 3 stamped into her neck at the back. There were only 3 of this particular doll ever made.” Trent didn’t reply, he walked back and forth a full minute. The two women stayed silent and waited for him to speak. Trent was trying to make some sense from the clues he had, if only he could piece it together. What was the connection? The android from the future with same name as a childs' doll from the past, a man dressed like a crow and two dames called Camille.

“Right now Miss I don't know much about all this. Is there anything else this man in black said to you?”

“All I can tell you Mr. Trent is what he said to us. He also said I should look in the press for an advertisement and come to see you. He said you would understand. If you think it would be advantageous for you to come to our house Mr. Trent, here is my address.”  The dame removed a small white card with a gold border from her purse and passed it to him. Trent took it, classy he thought.

“Don't you want to know my rates miss Duprey?” The doll got up and started to put her gloves on. She looked him straight in the eyes. As she pulled the fingers tight she said without regarding him.

“I believe you’ll work for a dollar a day Mr Trent, but you'll ask me for five.”

“What the....” Trent never got to finish his sentence. Without waiting for Trent to finish speaking she turned to Maggie and said.

“Nice to have met you miss.” As she turned to leave she smiled at Trent and quickly made her way out of the office and down the corridor. Trent stood, mouth open and silent, looking back and forth between the door and Maggie.