The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 34 -- The Doctor

"You bungler!  How could you let this happen?"  Dr. Herkeimer didn't mince words. He rumbled like thunder.  He berated the grieving Vincent over Quince's death.  "You were supposed to look out for him.  You knew he was not very bright."

Vincent could see the Doctor's eyes squint, a bad sign he was beyond angry.   The Doctor rubbed his temples below his perfectly combed gray hair.  The Doctor's jaw muscles flinched as he squeezed the back of a metal armchair, making its joints creak.

 "I tried to keep an eye on him," said Vincent, choking on his words, looking like a toddler being scolded.   "But he came out of nowhere…"

Vincent rose from the sofa and walked over to the casket sitting on a long table.  He looked down at Quince's barely recognizable burnt face.

"My dear Quince.   Oh why…  Why you my dear friend…"  Vincent whispered, then turned to the pacing Doctor.    "It was that damn Graff.  He's to blame for Quince's death."  Vincent sobbed again like a grieving widow.

"Stop it!  Get a hold of yourself.   Stop that confounded sniveling." Dr. Herkeimer rubbed his forehead, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

The roaring fire cast shadows that danced on the bare white wall behind Vincent.   The Doctor clasped his hands, squeezing them in front of his pursed lips.  "We must find out what that boy knows.   He must be the key to finding a complete copy of the book.  We cannot cast complete incantations that work without it."

Grinding his teeth, Dr. Herkeimer took a deep breath and rolled his head slowly from side to side.  His pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and texted.

Come quickly.  Do not be late.  Gather the others.  Official meeting.  Revenge and get that boy.

Dr. Herkeimer stomped around the white-painted chamber, kicking and pushing furniture out of his path.  He grew angrier.

Vincent moved to the other side of the table where Quince's casket sat, fearing the Doctor might hit him or throw something at him.   He had never seen him this furious.  

Pacing hastily around the room, Dr. Herkeimer mumbled under his breath.  "That boy…  Must get that boy…  He must be the key…"

The Doctor pushed over a metal table, sending it and a worn leather-bound book sliding across the shiny oak floor.  Stopping and looking down at the book, he picked it up.

"This book," said the Doctor calmly, cradling the volume near him.  "This incomplete book will not due.   I must have a complete copy."

Dr. Herkeimer screamed shaking a fist in the air.  His dark eyes blazed with rage.  "I deserve that book! Even if it means death to whoever gets in my way."