“But couldn’t it just be coincidence? Maybe he eavesdropped on us and got to know our names that way? I mean, why would we be the only ones walking around in these corridors?” My theory was that anyone could be here who found his or her door in a dream, tried to open it and go through. Except that most people didn’t seem to see their doors. Or simply didn’t try to go through them. Otherwise this place would be teeming with crowds of people.
Arthur gave a snort of amusement. “So Senator Tod—someone we’ve none of us seen in our lives—just happens to be roaming around outside our dream doors, just happens to call us by our right names, and just happens to utter these mysterious threats of his?”
Er, well, presumably not. Someone who knew us must have shown Senator Tod the way here. And that could really be only one person.
Damn.
“Anabel!” I said. “She could have put him on our trail.”
Arthur nodded slowly. “I’ve come to that conclusion myself. I just wanted to be sure it wasn’t any of you. I guess we can rule out Grayson and Jasper. And it wasn’t me either.” He pushed a lock of hair back from his face. His hair was longer than usual and rather untidy—intriguing. I’d never known Arthur’s hair to be anything but perfectly styled. But it didn’t make any difference to his staggering good looks.
“Maybe he’s some friend or relation of Anabel’s, and she told him the whole story. Or a member of the sect who believed in that silly demon’s handbook,” I said thoughtfully, while Henry folded his arms and said nothing. But I could tell when his brain was working overtime.
“Friend? He’s at least in his midthirties. And not at all Anabel’s type.” Arthur bit his lower lip, perhaps thinking of the time when he had still been Anabel’s type. “He’s not a relation either. She doesn’t have many relations, and I know all of those she does have. As for the sect—she was out of there by the time she was three years old, and the community was broken up. She wasn’t in touch with any of them after that. And her mother was in the nuthouse until her death.… No, I don’t think it’s anyone from her past.”
“It’s ages since I saw Anabel’s door.” Henry looked at Arthur keenly. “Do you know where it is now?”
Good question! Anabel’s door had been very striking: a huge double door with gold fittings and a Gothic pointed arch, like a church porch. In the past, you could always rely on finding it opposite Arthur’s door. But since Anabel had been in the psychiatric hospital, the door had disappeared without a trace, and there was another door where it used to be.
Arthur shook his head. “No idea. I assume that Anabel completely changed the look of it so that we won’t find it. In principle, it could be any door.”
“Including the door opposite?” I asked.
Embarrassed, Arthur examined the toes of his shoes. “That one belongs to my mum.”
Oh. How … er … how sweet.
“You’re not trying to tell me you aren’t seeing Anabel anymore, are you?” Henry gave his former best friend a cool look.
“Well—well, I’m not. I’ve only seen her twice since she’s been in the hospital. Right at the start.” Arthur stared at the toes of his shoes again. “She turned up outside my door, but I’d changed the code of the lock.” He raised his chin and looked first me and then Henry straight in the eyes. “Can you imagine what it’s like being manipulated by your own girlfriend? How awful you feel knowing that you’ve been exploited and that she was telling you lies?”
“I hope that was a rhetorical question.” Henry had raised one eyebrow.
“The second time Anabel and I met, I ended it,” Arthur went on, undeterred. “Or rather … Well, the fact is, she ended it. Anyway, it wasn’t an edifying occasion. She accused me of all sorts of things.” He fell silent for a moment, before saying, “Don’t look so suspicious, Henry!”
“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me.” Henry’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “I could never imagine what it’s like being manipulated and told lies by your own friend, and how awful that makes a person feel.”
Arthur raised both hands. “Please—goodness knows I’ve apologized often enough.”
Really? Not to me. Still, maybe he thought that after I broke his jawbone we were even.
Henry and Arthur were staring fiercely at each other.
“There are some things that can’t be forgiven,” said Henry.
I sighed. Any moment now, they’d be at each other’s throats. Or turning into animals of some kind to tear each other to pieces.
“Listen, you two, why don’t you stop it and we’ll think what to do about this Senator Tod instead?” I suggested. “What could make Anabel want to set him on our trail? And what can he actually do apart from running around in weird disguises and letting his deranged laughter echo down the corridors … Hang on a moment!” Excitedly, I gasped for air. “The man’s out of his mind! He’s a patient in the same hospital as Anabel! That would account for his ramblings about rotors and tornadoes and so on.”
Arthur raised his head, and then nodded. “That could be right.”