(I'm on vacation, so don't expect many updates! Also, I have now seen The London Assignment -- Funny!)
Van Helsing decided to be thorough. Inquiries amongst the residents of the Order's Monastery revealed that almost no one had laid eyes on Carl in days. The friars who ran the kitchens hadn't seen him at meals, but didn't think anything of it, since Carl frequently forgot meals in favor of work, and so the friars were used to finding leftovers missing in the mornings, evidence of late night raids by Carl. But one young fellow pointed out that fewer and fewer raids had been made lately.
"Of course, Carl could be very busy, but it's really not like him to so neglect himself," the young friar said nervously. "I was apprenticed to him for a while, you know. He really is an all-right fellow. Do tell him I said hello."
Interesting how the other members of the Order saw Carl. Van Helsing discovered that in as much as he viewed Carl as his only friend, the other Order members assumed that Van Helsing was Carl's best friend, and made little effort to get to know the brilliant friar themselves. Monks who cleaned the Monastery refused to clean Carl's cell, citing injuries from various exploding or firing contraptions. The kitchen friars never bothered to set a place for him at meals, he always missed them. The librarian admitted giving up badgering Carl for the return of books, and simply replaced the volumes Carl claimed. Obviously, Cardinal Jinnette saw Carl as a commodity, not a person, given how he so coldly described Carl's recent moods as antisocial and lazy. Eventually, Van Helsing began to understand that the brilliant inventor was probably the loneliest soul in the Vatican. Van Helsing began to see a pattern of shyness and reclusiveness in Carl's routine that spoke of years of disconnection and solitude. Perhaps the man's voluble arrogance was compensation. Maybe Carl was trying to convince everyone that he liked being alone, thereby deflecting the loneliness. No wonder that Carl had taken an eager interest in Van Helsing from the moment Van Helsing had been taken in by the Order. To Carl, Van Helsing must seem so much the same as himself. And Van Helsing had to agree with this mental assessment. They were the same.
So if I were feeling particularly wretched, where would I hide? Van Helsing wondered.
Soon he had eliminated both the Monastery and the Order's catacombs from his mental list of possible hiding places. Not only could he not find Carl in either place, he knew that he himself would not stay in such populous areas. That also eliminated the Basilica, the public buildings, and of course His Holiness's palace.
After a while, the day grew very late, the sky dimmed, and Van Helsing found himself poking though older and neglected chapels. Some were simply unused, but others were dedicated to saints and martyrs that had fallen out of fashion. Odd that there should be fashion in religion, especially Catholicism, but there it was. Still, someone had to use these little chapels, for he found himself at the doors of an old chapel to Saint Joseph the Carpenter, and he could see light glimmering beneath the door.
Curious, and needing diversion, he swung the door open slowly and slipped through the narrow opening. Candles illuminated the small altar in a chapel barely large enough for pews. There were only 10 pews in the place, five a side, and the miniature basilica boasted only a small crucifix hanging before the large icon of St Joseph, his hammer in hand. Poor saint -- cuckolded by God, Van Helsing thought wryly. Just then, he noticed the figure kneeling before the altar. The holy man seemed to be whispering frantically in Latin, occasionally striking his own breast with his clasped hands. It was a posture of penitence common in the old Church in England. Van Helsing couldn't see the man's face, for long hair shielded him. Stepping back, Van Helsing made to slip out again, reluctant to disturb someone at prayer, but as he did, he bumped the door, and it made such a sudden squeal on its hinges, he could hardly credit it. The holy man jumped, startled, and turned to look over his shoulder, his expression one of shock and fear.
Van Helsing gasped as he beheld the penitent's face. "Carl?!"
Van Helsing decided to be thorough. Inquiries amongst the residents of the Order's Monastery revealed that almost no one had laid eyes on Carl in days. The friars who ran the kitchens hadn't seen him at meals, but didn't think anything of it, since Carl frequently forgot meals in favor of work, and so the friars were used to finding leftovers missing in the mornings, evidence of late night raids by Carl. But one young fellow pointed out that fewer and fewer raids had been made lately.
"Of course, Carl could be very busy, but it's really not like him to so neglect himself," the young friar said nervously. "I was apprenticed to him for a while, you know. He really is an all-right fellow. Do tell him I said hello."
Interesting how the other members of the Order saw Carl. Van Helsing discovered that in as much as he viewed Carl as his only friend, the other Order members assumed that Van Helsing was Carl's best friend, and made little effort to get to know the brilliant friar themselves. Monks who cleaned the Monastery refused to clean Carl's cell, citing injuries from various exploding or firing contraptions. The kitchen friars never bothered to set a place for him at meals, he always missed them. The librarian admitted giving up badgering Carl for the return of books, and simply replaced the volumes Carl claimed. Obviously, Cardinal Jinnette saw Carl as a commodity, not a person, given how he so coldly described Carl's recent moods as antisocial and lazy. Eventually, Van Helsing began to understand that the brilliant inventor was probably the loneliest soul in the Vatican. Van Helsing began to see a pattern of shyness and reclusiveness in Carl's routine that spoke of years of disconnection and solitude. Perhaps the man's voluble arrogance was compensation. Maybe Carl was trying to convince everyone that he liked being alone, thereby deflecting the loneliness. No wonder that Carl had taken an eager interest in Van Helsing from the moment Van Helsing had been taken in by the Order. To Carl, Van Helsing must seem so much the same as himself. And Van Helsing had to agree with this mental assessment. They were the same.
So if I were feeling particularly wretched, where would I hide? Van Helsing wondered.
Soon he had eliminated both the Monastery and the Order's catacombs from his mental list of possible hiding places. Not only could he not find Carl in either place, he knew that he himself would not stay in such populous areas. That also eliminated the Basilica, the public buildings, and of course His Holiness's palace.
After a while, the day grew very late, the sky dimmed, and Van Helsing found himself poking though older and neglected chapels. Some were simply unused, but others were dedicated to saints and martyrs that had fallen out of fashion. Odd that there should be fashion in religion, especially Catholicism, but there it was. Still, someone had to use these little chapels, for he found himself at the doors of an old chapel to Saint Joseph the Carpenter, and he could see light glimmering beneath the door.
Curious, and needing diversion, he swung the door open slowly and slipped through the narrow opening. Candles illuminated the small altar in a chapel barely large enough for pews. There were only 10 pews in the place, five a side, and the miniature basilica boasted only a small crucifix hanging before the large icon of St Joseph, his hammer in hand. Poor saint -- cuckolded by God, Van Helsing thought wryly. Just then, he noticed the figure kneeling before the altar. The holy man seemed to be whispering frantically in Latin, occasionally striking his own breast with his clasped hands. It was a posture of penitence common in the old Church in England. Van Helsing couldn't see the man's face, for long hair shielded him. Stepping back, Van Helsing made to slip out again, reluctant to disturb someone at prayer, but as he did, he bumped the door, and it made such a sudden squeal on its hinges, he could hardly credit it. The holy man jumped, startled, and turned to look over his shoulder, his expression one of shock and fear.
Van Helsing gasped as he beheld the penitent's face. "Carl?!"