The Crescent

Chapter 10

"Sit," Dr. Baker commanded.

The Dobermans hinds dropped obediently, and Dr. Baker rewarded them each with a dog biscuit. They snapped them up without even tasting the milkbones, greedy things. He tossed a stray biscuit to their feet and watched leisurely as they turned on each other, curled lips to lock-jawed bites. Bastille held his ground, but Burdock was far more vicious, and after pinning down the other dog by its neck he gobbled up the biscuit.

Three blood drops dotted the floor. Dr. Baker pressed the tip of his shoe onto them and twisted back and forth, and when he stepped away, they were gone. Or at least, red-bottomed on his shoe, which was just the same.

Through the long panes of glass, the snow was pristine, unblemished of footprints and overturned dirt from the night before. In the spring the worms would make a speedy meal of the journalist. Perhaps the cold earth was already swallowing him bit by bit.

Dr. Baker turned the camera over in his hands, admired its crisp edges and futuristic knobs. Will Drachman really had no right to such a fine piece of equipment. He removed the camera's strap, stuffed it in his pocket. He might pick up photography – there was a rush in capturing the journalist's dead body, a new kind of treasure – but not with this camera.

He shooed Bastille and Burdock away and threw their rug back. Much of the hospital was carpeted from its days as a hotel, but some rooms, like Dr. Baker's, were free of the matted emerald stuff, bare wood exposed. He scrutinized over the lay of planks, until his found the one that was slightly darker. He slid it out of place and set it aside.

This was just one of the many hidden compartments in the hospital. The camera slid just so in between the boards and rested at the bottom. Dr. Baker looked down into it. The camera's lens stared up at him like an unblinking eye, and with a sense of finality, he placed the lens cap over it. He slid the board back in place and tossed the rug over it, lit a cigar. One day, when acute boredom struck him, he would develop the pictures.

Without warning, Burdock let loose a whine, a sound Dr. Baker scarcely heard from him. The dogs' short fur stood on end, and they stared in the direction of Dr. Baker's desk. In the corner of his eye he saw a figure at his desk. He hadn't even heard Theodora enter.

"Theodora, you didn't even announce yourself," he began peevishly.

He turned towards his desk, but the room was utterly empty.