Elias doesn’t need a seat in the panopticon to see him coming.
His office door is flung open and slammed shut in quick succession, and Elias briefly closes his eyes and savors the wire-taut fear that pervades the air, fueling itself into anger.
As much as he might like to pretend otherwise, Jonathan Sims wears his heart on his sleeve. If nothing else, it makes dealing with him entertaining.
“What the hell is your game, Elias?” He doesn’t sit down, doesn’t even cross the room to get in Elias’s face, though Elias knows that he wants to. He’s holding himself back, but only just.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Elias replies.
“It’s barely been two weeks!” Jon says tersely. “You and I both know she’s been gone longer than that before. And if, by some bizarre stroke of luck, one of her many enemies had actually managed to kill her, do you really think they’d pass up the chance to brag about it?” Before Elias can reply, he pushes onward. “And really? Martin Blackwood? The library assistant? What the hell did he do to deserve this?”
“Jon,” he says gently, kindly, and is rewarded when Jon’s eyes flash with held-back temper. It reminds him of a much younger Gertrude, back when she still let her emotions run hot instead of cold. “I know that you and Gertrude were close--or as close as Gertrude could be with anyone. But sometimes, as unpleasant as they may be, we must face facts.”
Facts, like Elias’s ability to see virtually everything that goes on in the world, meaning he would certainly know if Gertrude were dead even if he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. Facts like the blood-spattered desk that he left for her sole assistant to find.
But Jon holds Gertrude in far too high regard, and himself far too low, to accept that she might be dead.
“And as for Mr. Blackwood’s aptitude as her replacement,” Elias goes on lightly. “I’ll admit I’m taking a gamble on him. But he has been working for the Institute for quite a number of years--longer than you, in fact--and thus far has shown a remarkable level of initiative and... adaptability.” And fear, and uncertainty, and desperation to please, and a predisposition toward loneliness and isolation. All useful qualities in the sort of Archivist that will suit Elias’s needs.
Provided, of course, that he can manage any leftover extenuating factors.
“I’m sure, between the two of you, the archives will continue to run smoothly.”
“They will,” Jon says coolly. “Until she gets back.” The challenge is as transparent as it could possibly be; any more obvious, and the young man would be baring his teeth like he follows the Hunt instead of the Eye.
Whatever you are trying to do, he says, without saying out loud. I will fight you tooth and nail, every step of the way.
Elias sighs. He cannot see Gertrude Robinson’s corpse lying in the tunnels below, but he knows that it’s there, and just for a moment he indulges himself in the fantasy that there were two corpses in that chamber, rather than just one. It really is a shame that she was so determinedly untrusting. She could very well have brought Jon into her plot, regardless of the risks--it’s not as if he would have turned down the opportunity to lay down his life for her. At least if she had, Elias would have had the opportunity to kill him, too.
Oh, well. He’s sure another opportunity will present itself.