The Lotus ***

“This wouldn't have happened if you would have just listened to me, Master Geoffrey!”

A deep frown was placed upon Alfie's lips as he leaned against the wall outside of Geoffrey's study. The two young men were back at the Pyne Estate later that afternoon. The lavish three story tall building was adorned with dark wood, plenty of wallpaper, and themed rooms. The building had been in the family for three generations, Geoffrey would be the fourth to inherit the house if his grandfather would ever die. Though the young master had no interest in the family land. He always claimed that a shopping center or food market would be much more profitable for the land. It didn't matter what Geoffrey had planned, he was the only one left of the Pyne family name to take the land from the aging master his grandfather.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the boy moaned knocking something over in the study which he had locked his servant out of.

No one was aloud in that room. Alfie had taken a peak in the room plenty of times in the past, but always felt guilty whenever he tried to please his curiosity. The study was part of a suite that Geoffrey lived in on the third floor. Unlike like his grandfather's study, he housed books that cluttered the walls in no specific order to anyone but himself. A desk was placed by the large windows where some nights he would sit and stare out over the trees that surrounded the estate. Alfie asked him once why he wouldn't face the desk towards the door like his grandfather did, though the answer was quite clear. Why look towards a door that is always locked?

“I'm shocked that you're taking this so well,” Alfie turned to see a shadow of the boy pass by the door, “especially losing a job to an amateur. A woman none less.”

It was quiet for a second before Geoffrey went back to pulling on a shirt, “what can I say? I'm hopeless right now.”

The brass doorknob turned as the boy opened the door. The lowering sun left a bright outline behind Geoffrey, masking any detail of the space behind him. The college aged young man, the same age as Alfie, was wearing a buttoned up shirt, above the knee shorts, and suspenders which served no purpose to holding up his pants. The entire outfit was far too small and too tight around the arms. The small patches of dust that remained on the shoulders told Alfie that he had pulled this out of storage.

“Absolutely, and terribly hopeless.”

“You're going to talk with your grandfather looking like that? I think you would have a better chance doing your comedy act with your viking helmet instead.”

Geoffrey pulled the door shut from behind him, trying very hard not to move much while pulling up some knee socks. The boy had different “acts” he would do in front of his old man. Alfie couldn't understand why he did these. At first it seemed as if he wanted to disappoint the old man in order to get some kind of reward in the end, now it seemed like Geoffrey just enjoyed doing this. Alfie would have much rather liked his master to pursue a career in acting than detective work. His attitudes on things would make much more sense than for a job that was supposed to be helping people.

“I couldn't find the darn thing. Mary probably took it before she left on holiday this weekend.”

“One, her name is Emily, and two how could the cook even attempt to cary something that you can't even carry out of this place?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“It should matter, Master Geoffrey, she handles our food.”

Geoffrey moaned loudly and locked the door with his key. He put the important key that sealed all secrets of his life into his pocket. Alfie didn't know where he hid the key once he went back to his bed room. So even if he was itching to know what was inside, it was nearly impossible to find the important piece of the puzzle. He could always kick down the door, but Alfie feared the wrath of Geoffrey more than settling his curiosity.

Geoffrey turned and headed towards the stairs. There was no crooked smile on his face, or twinkle in his eye. The boy either had a pretty good poker face stitched on his lips, or he truly was serious about this talk with his grandfather. He had to be if he was wearing something like that.

“Besides, Alfie,” the boy turned with neutral lips, “I'm not going to be simply talking with my Grand Daddy. I'll be begging my heart out.”

He left Alfie's presence, waddling down the stairs. The poor servant's hand went straight to his face as he slowly dragged it downwards to his chin.

---

Waiting outside the downstairs study, Alfie awkwardly waited on the other side of the quiet room. The thin french styled doors were usually open, showing a beautiful room filled with books and treasures from all around the world. When the aging master was Geoffrey's age, he had gone on his first safari trip. Mementos from this trip and countless others were mounted and carefully contained around the spacious room and a few other locations around the house.

Alfie still couldn't believe just how different the two masters were from each other. Both may had been adventurous at some points, but the young master was far too spoiled to enjoy the wonders of the wild. Alfie was glad this was true. One of the aging master's stories was of how he lost part of his left thumb to a jaguar. Staring at the six foot long jaguar mounted directly across the hall from the study, Alfie still couldn't believe all he lost was part of a finger. Staring at the mass size of the animal, Alfie wouldn't know what he would do if Geoffrey would one day have the sudden urge to follow in his grandfather's footsteps. He could picture the young master completing a perfect kill and demanding his servant to go get it for him in the mists of the angry brethren of the one killed.

Shivering at the thought, Alfie was saved by the rackety sound of the french doors opening from the study. Geoffrey was calm as he could be as he stepped out of the room. The aging master had remained at his desk and had went back to scribbling some notes on some papers. Word around the house was that the man may be writing a book. He had plenty to write about so it made sense for the retired man to do such a thing. His frowning wrinkled face was shadowed from the setting sun behind. Alfie still couldn't understand why Geoffrey wanted to talk to his grandfather now. Closer to supper time was the best time to talk to the man.

The older man's crackling voice boomed loudly across the space as he demanded his “ninnyhammer” grandson to get out of there and shut the door. Geoffrey could barely keep a straight face as he did as his grandfather asked. The scene was done. The poker face Geoffrey owned for this episode was exiting stage right and the real young master was starting to unwind. Once the doors were shut he stared at Alfie with a squished up face as he tried his best to hold back a slue of laughter right outside his grandfather's door.

“We are not joining the aging master for supper are we, Master Geoffrey...?”

“No we are not!”

He automatically turned, arms raised as high as the tight shirt would let him as he raced back to the stairs. A stream of mixed chuckles and laughter followed him as his mind began to plan for events Alfie did not know of. The things he had to do, the places he had to go. There was no time to waste, the longer he waited, the more that woman would mess up the crime scene. Geoffrey took a tight turn, slipping on the rugs in the hallway, and nearly ran over the slightly plump Mrs. Pearl as she was taking the laundry in from the clothes lines outside. Alfie was thankfully able to help her catch the basket of folded laundry before she could lose her balance from the young master.

“Oh, I know that smile,” the graying haired woman chuckled after regaining balance, “looks like you're going to go on a trip to see Verna again.”

“Joy...”

Alfie sighed and took off his nice jacket giving it to the maid. He did this not just because he didn't want his favorite coat stolen, but that he really really didn't want to smell like that place. The tar smell mixed with alcohol and loud music, just thinking about Verna's studio made him want to take a bath. Geoffrey didn't mind. Why would he? She was the closest thing Geoffrey had to a girlfriend. Well, that's a lie as well. All Alfie cared to know about their relationship that it could be summed up as “complicated”.

Geoffrey's feet stomped back down the stairs, dressed in the clothes he wore that morning. A big smile was across his lightly freckled face. He pointed to the door and demanded for Alfie to pull up the hideous car the blonde man loved. Their time was short and he wouldn't dare let that detective or any other person ruin his chance to inspect a case like this. If he was right about the importance of the lotus flowers, this could be the case to throw him into the big leagues. No more petty crimes and child kidnappings for the young detective. However, if he was wrong...

No. Scratch that. Geoffrey was never wrong.