Chapter Fifteen
A Change of Tone
“Well, that was bound to happen, sooner or later,” Evelyn said. She briskly dusted her hands together in a gesture of finality. “Though such a thing will result in drastic life changes, I feel quite relieved that it’s behind me. Engaging in a double life is quite exhausting, let me tell you.”
Panting with the exertion of their Jasper-dispelling efforts, the sisters peered into the gaping, darkened hole that had been exposed when the trapdoor had sprung open. They had only a brief moment to do so, for with a mechanical whirl of sound, the door quickly returned to its closed position, sealing the chute away from their eyes.
When the trapdoor was closed, the seams of its design blended in quite well with the hardwood flooring. Its edges were difficult to spot, even though they were no longer concealed by the carefully placed Persian rug. There was no indication that the trapdoor had, only seconds earlier, gobbled up a cranky janitor and his trusty broom.
Maria and Sara eyed the curator with curiosity, wariness, and even more respect than they had previously held for her. She had just dumped Jasper down a trapdoor, which had earned her oodles of bonus points, yet the sisters were by no means ready to let their guards down entirely.
It was proving incredibly difficult to ascertain the woman’s motives and loyalties – after all, she had admitted to being an operative of the Black Hats, which was quite possibly the most fiendish enterprise on the face of the planet.
Perhaps her feud with Jasper was nothing more than an internal conflict that existed within that heinous organization, and not a condemnation of the Black Hats themselves. Evelyn and Jasper may have both been vying for a similar role in the hierarchy, with this clash simply being a manifestation of that power struggle.
The curator had stepped back from the trapdoor and resumed her former position, standing beside her desk (and penguin). It occurred to the sisters that they could most likely make a break for the office door and engage in a successful escape. But they could not simply bolt, without the acquisition of some answers… their minds had been too thoroughly intrigued by this curious series of events.
There was no way they could simply leave things as they were. They needed answers… and they were determined to get them. Though they did not verbally communicate this thought, they were confident that they were in agreement on the matter, for they understood one another as thoroughly as they knew their own selves.
Sara faced Evelyn and began the questioning. “Um… he’s not… you know… dead, is he?”
“We’re not real big fans of Jasper. In fact, we think he’s downright evil, and a big meanie to boot,” Maria explained. “But still… we would feel pretty lousy if we actually killed that deranged lunatic.”
At the expression of these sentiments, Evelyn threw back her head and laughed uproariously. Both of the girls jumped slightly at the sound, for it took them off guard. Perhaps because of her brisk, professional demeanor, the sisters had not really perceived Evelyn as a person who was capable of laughter. But laugh she did, and it was a warm act that made her shoulders shake.
Wiping a tear from the corner of one eye, Evelyn said, “Heavens, no! I’m sure he’ll be fine. Why, that buffoon is the one who engineered that hidden trapdoor into my office years ago, though he clearly forgot about it in his excitement.”
“Well… what happened to him, exactly?” Sara asked.
“Oh, don’t worry. That trapdoor simply opens into a chute that dumps into the basement’s air duct system. Now that I think of it, he’ll probably have a pretty good time down there, once he gets his bearings and his eye adjusts to the darkness… after all, there should be an abundance of dust bunnies for him to wrangle up with that ridiculous broom of his. In any event, it should certainly keep him out of my hair for a little while.”
“Uh… okay, then,” Sara said. She was a bit taken aback by the curator’s rapid transformation in demeanor, but she pressed on. “That trapdoor was mighty impressive, I have to admit. And we’re very grateful for you having assisted us. But I gotta ask you, Ms. Magellan… what’s with the penguin? Of all the places you could have hidden the switch for this marvelous trapdoor, why did you pick that?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Maria said. “I have to tell you, its presence seems a bit… weird, in this finely appointed office of yours. It just doesn’t fit with everything else.”
“Oh, this?” Evelyn asked, as she adoringly patted the head of the resolute, whimsical penguin, who loyally stood at attention beside her desk. “This little guy has special meaning to me. He was sculpted in the likeness of the Magellanic Penguin. The artist who crafted him did a wonderful job, don’t you think?”
“The… Magellanic… Penguin?” Sara repeated.
She had, of course, seen penguins before, but she had not heard of this particular species. It was impossible to ignore the similarity between the Magellanic Penguin and Evelyn’s own last name… surely there was a connection there.
Sara exchanged a quick glance with Maria, who shrugged in return. They were both thinking the same thing: Evelyn’s tone and behavior had undergone a remarkable change since she had disposed of Jasper.
Whereas previously she had been curt, standoffish, and intimidating, she now seemed much… warmer. There was a twinkle within her eyes, and a kindness to her smile. She had adopted an aura of friendliness and approachability that seemed – at least on the surface – to be truly genuine.
But was it all an act? Could she possibly be trusted? What were they to believe? Jasper had said that Evelyn was an agent of the Black Hats, and she had admitted this to be true. As such, wasn’t a big part of her job to fool others?
Despite the uncertainty of the situation, the sisters were undaunted. For they had seen many strange things in their days, and experienced many scenarios that went well beyond the norm. And they had each other, and that was comfort enough to face any challenge.
“Can you tell us more about this Magellanic Penguin?” Maria asked. “Why is it called that? Did you discover it yourself?”
Evelyn once more erupted with a burst of laughter. “Did I discover it? I wish! Oh, what a fine honor that would have been.”
“So… why exactly is it called the Magellanic Penguin, then?” Sara asked. “It can’t be a coincidence… It has the same name as you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does, but not by my own doing. I can’t take any credit for discovering this wonderful bird. It wasn’t me, but my ancestor who made the discovery in South America,” Evelyn explained.
Maria exchanged a sideways glance with her sister, and the look in her eyes conveyed that she suspected Evelyn might be a tad bit bonkers herself, in the tradition of the other members of the Black Hats whom they had already met. Perhaps the madness of Jasper and Ebenezer was contagious, and it had spread like a cold throughout their organization.
“You’re, uh… you’re not telling us that you’re related to…” Maria trailed off, not quite able to give voice to such an absurd thought.
Evelyn smiled in return, and she walked toward the collection of paintings that adorned one wall of her office. She stopped at one of the portraits and struck a pose beside it, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head slightly to one side. Her green eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and delight, and she looked to the sisters, waiting for their reaction.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”
There was an undeniable resemblance between Evelyn and the man in the portrait. The ears, the cheekbones, the lines of their faces… even in the subtle way in which they held themselves as they looked ahead.
Most telling, however, were the eyes. The eyes of the man in the portrait held a similar, intangible quality to those of Evelyn, even though they were of different color. They were penetrating, deeply intelligent, and touched by something else that was perhaps best described as perpetual curiosity – a drive to learn and discover.
Not quite be
lieving what they were looking at, nor the obvious conclusion that they were being guided toward, the sisters let their eyes roam to the name that was engraved upon the placard that was mounted beneath the painting. It read: FERDINAND MAGELLAN.