8. I am your (god)fa...
Walter took a deep breath before speaking.
– Your father and I met many years ago. When we were still very young and still did not fully understand what "the Spider" was. He was my best friend, I always had a place in his house and with your grandparents. When he married your mother I helped them get rid of “the Spider”.
– And why are you here now? – asked Arthur suspiciously.
– For your father.
– For my father… – he repeated raising his eyebrows.
Walter agreed.
– I promised him that I would always take care of" Arthur didn't know how to take those words coming from a man who was apparently a few years older than him. I promised him that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you if I could help it, and that's why I'm here. You may not remember, because you were very young, but your parents named me your godfather.
– Do you have any proof that what you say is true? Lily asked from beside him. The girl was sizing Walter up carefully, not loosening her grip on the pistol she was pointing at the newcomer.
Walter moved very slowly, trying to always keep his hand in view and not make any sudden movements. He reached into a pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and handed it to Arthur so he could see the photo he kept there.
Arthur's jaw dropped in shock.
He was in the photo. He was in his father's arms, he couldn't have been more than a year old, clinging to his stuffed giraffe, his favorite toy. Next to his father, putting an arm around his shoulders, was Walter. He looked younger, just like his father. All three smiled at the camera.
Arthur looked from the photograph to Walter and back to the photograph.​​
– And why don't I know you? Why…?
– Your father had his life. I had your mother and you and I loved you madly. I thought the best thing would be to walk away and I did.
Those words raised many questions about that man and his father, however, he sensed that nothing he had told them was a lie.
He lowered the gun, put the safety on it, and tucked it into the back of his belt as he looked at Lily and nodded. Walter stopped himself from protesting when he didn't return the gun, and Lily stopped aiming at him.
– I just want to help you" Walter reiterated.
Arthur looked him up and down one last time.
– We are looking for a lock. We have a key but we don't know what opens it–, he confided. Lily next to him took a deep breath, though she didn't protest. It could be a door, a box, a drawer… anything.
Walter agreed.
They checked every corner of the atelier. A little distraction on Lily's part even gave Arthur a chance to sneak into the warehouse and workshops and search them quickly. The result was just as frustrating as each of the events that had been connected with that ridiculous key. They left as empty-handed as they had entered.
Walter was the first to speak when the atelier door closed behind them with the sound of his bell.
– You shouldn't go back to the inn. By now they will know that you were there and they will be waiting for you in case you come back. I don't think there's a single boarding house you can settle in without being instantly found. Besides, knowing what's coming our way, it's a bad idea– he said, giving her a reproachful look.
– What do you mean? – His partner turned to him to ask.
Unable to answer him truthfully, Arthur shook his head.
– I'll tell you later.
– What do you suggest?– Lily asked then, facing Walter.
'I have a secure flat in Bloomsbury. As long as we hide well to get there, it should still be safe.
Arthur and Lily exchanged glances and this time it was the girl's turn to nod in agreement. She didn't miss how her hand went to the pocket where she hid the revolver.
Walter led them to a Victorian building in Bloomsbury. The second floor was Walter's territory. There was hardly any more furniture than was necessary. A table, four chairs and a sofa. There were no paintings or photographs. The only trace of personality or real life was provided by a stack of books installed next to the sofa.