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.”“Were you engaged by my aunt to find my mother?”“I was.”“I have found her.”“Did you now?”“But I haven’t found my sister.”Throck frowned.“That’s nothing to do with me.”“I need your help,” Edmund said.Throck rubbed the side of his face with a large hand.“What about that … friend of yours.He gone off?”“Mr.… Dupin?”“If that’s his name.”“He won’t help me anymore.”“Why’s that?”“He’s crazy.”“Is he? Did he find your mother for you?”“In a way.”“Does he get the reward then?”“Mr.Throck, I don’t know anything about a reward.”“That’s as may be.” He rubbed the side of his face for a moment.Then he said, “If I help you find your sister will you put in a word for me so that I get it?”“Mr.Throck I’ll do what you tell me to do.”“Your word now.A good word for Mr.Throck.”“I promise.”Throck sat back, gave a grunt of satisfaction, finally pulled a chair near to him.“Well then, what exactly do you want me to do?”“It’s my sister.I want you to make Mr.Dupin find her.”“Thought you said he was crazy.”“But I think he knows where she is.”“You want it out of him then, do you?”“Yes, sir.”“You sit down here and tell me all about it.”* * *When Edmund unlocked the door to the room and stepped inside, Poe was still writing.The boy glanced quickly toward his mother.She lay asleep on the bed.He came further into the room, then beckoned to Throck — just behind — to follow.When Poe didn’t seem to notice their arrival, Edmund approached him.“Mr.Poe,” he said softly.Poe continued to write.“Mr.Poe,” Edmund repeated, raising his voice slightly.This time Poe lifted his head.Edmund could see from his eyes that he was having a hard time focusing.“Sometimes,” Poe said, “you lose control of your characters.They want to take over.Do what they want.It’s a question of who is stronger.Writer or character.But it’s all right.I’m almost finished with you.”“What?”“And your sister.”“Mr.Poe, it’s me, Edmund.I’ve brought Mr.Throck.”Poe stared first at the boy, then at the large man who loomed behind him, his bulk magnified in the smallness of the room.Throck grinned.“Evening to you, Mr.Poe,” he said.* * *“Ah, yes!” Poe said.“They threw me out of the army too.I’d been drinking.” He turned to Edmund.“Why did you bring him here? He’s no longer part of the story.”“Mr.Poe,” Throck said, “this boy here, he says you can tell us where his sister is.”“His sister is here!” Poe snapped, slapping his notebook.He bent to his work.The pen moved over the paper.Throck looked at Edmund for an explanation.“He thinks she’s in the story he’s writing,” Edmund said.“Mr.Poe,” he went on more urgently, “you can find her.I know you can.”“Edmund,” Poe cried, flinging down his pen, “this is what’s important!”Moving suddenly, Edmund snatched the notebook from under Poe’s hand.As though struck, Poe leaped from his chair and tried to grab the book back.Throck was quicker.He stepped in front of Poe and heaved him against the wall.Poe looked from Edmund to Throck with frightened eyes.Edmund held the notebook tightly.“Find Sis or I’ll destroy it,” he said fiercely.On the bed, Mrs.Rachett stirred, sat up, and looked about in confusion.Edmund noticed her.“It’s all right, Mother,” he called.“This is Mr.Throck.He’s going to help us find Sis.”Throck turned.“Please to meet you, madam,” he said.“And sorry of your misfortunes.Your sister had come to me for help and we was endeavoring to get you for her.And if this man is willing, we’ll find your daughter too.”Unexpectedly Poe jumped and grabbed up his carpetbag.“My manuscript,” he demanded, his hand outstretched.Edmund shook his head.“Not until you help us find Sis,” he said.“Be reasonable, sir,” Throck suggested.“You want to get on with your work.He wants his sister.I want to get them that got into the bank, for I understand from the lad here that they’re connected.Now, if you put your mind to it, it can all be done in one effort.”Poe glared at the man.“Didn’t I tell you,” Throck added, “that Throck sees it through.”For a moment Poe’s gaze wavered.Then, giving way abruptly, he sank back into the chair.“Much better,” Throck said.“I must have the notebook,” Poe said.“Help us first,” Edmund insisted.Poe let out a deep breath, closed his eyes, and leaned forward, resting his head in his upturned hands.Then he sat back.He reached for a bottle, but saw that it was empty and put it aside.He looked inquiringly at Throck.Throck grinned and held up a full bottle, saying, “Help us first.”Poe cleared his throat.“Mrs.Rachett,” he said, his voice ragged, “have you any idea where they might have put your daughter?”Mrs.Rachett shook her head.“I only knew they had put her in the mausoleum,” she replied.“When I went there she was gone.”“And you, Mr.Throck,” Poe said
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