The Return
Klaus was surprised when he arrived at work to find a package waiting for him. It had no outward signs of being the same as those Eroica had been sending all those months ago other than the fact that it had been hand delivered. Security assured him it had been completely checked over and was “clean.”
The Major was glad that he had arrived at work earlier than usual. None his men were present as yet, allowing him time to examine the package without an audience. To his bewilderment, he found a gift wrapped box inside that was large enough to hold the stolen porcelain box. He wondered if he had over-thought the Earl’s plan as he pulled it out of the packing material. He thought otherwise when he lifted the lid from the gift box to find a small shoe inside. Then he wanted to kick himself. He had forgotten to take the Earl’s sense of theater into account. Christmas was still more than two weeks away. This day, the sixth of December, was Saint Nicklaus day.
The shoe held the traditional treats of candy, fruits, and nuts. It also held a small envelope. Inside the envelope was a hotel key and a note.
Major,
You may recover your property at 6:00 this evening.
From Eroica with Love
The Major looked from the note to the key and back. Fuck. Now what’s he planning?
* * *
The Major arrived promptly at six and knocked on the door, hearing the Earl call, “I sent you a key! Let yourself in!” from the other side. He did, seeing Eroica on the far side of the room. Klaus was surprise to find the man alone in the room. Then again, like himself that morning, the Earl probably did not want an audience to see him returning stolen property.
Klaus was also relived that the Earl’s sense of theater did not extend to his dressing the part of Saint Nicklaus. “Well, I’m here,” he said tersely as he closed the door. “Where is it?”
“Right here,” Dorian replied, placing the item on a table on the far side of the room.
“About bloody time,” Klaus growled as he started towards it.
“I know who your Flower is.”
This quiet statement stopped the officer dead in his tracks. He studied the Earl’s set expression and then folded his arms, a challenging look on his face. “You do, do you?”
“It’s all right here.” Dorian gave the box a loving pat before taking a seat beside the table. “No wonder you wanted it back so badly.”
“I told you that belonged to my mother,” Klaus countered fiercely.
“No, it didn’t. You ordered it yourself in 1979.” Dorian could not help smiling at the thunderstruck expression this statement invoked “Even after all these years, the artist remembered you vividly. But then, Iron Klaus always makes an indelible impression, doesn’t he?”
Klaus stood considering the present situation. He had one of two options. Either take the box by force, which could damage or even break it, or listen to what the Earl had to say. He resigned himself to the inevitable fact that he was going to learn what the Earl had on his mind regardless and sat down. “Alright, let’s hear your latest theory.”
“Theory?” Dorian shook his head. “No theories this time. Nor wild accusations. In fact, it wasn’t until James said something offhand that I realized I’d been overlooking the obvious.”
Klaus sat back in his chair. “You picked the wrong holiday. You should’ve waited until January to share your personal epiphany.”
Dorian ignored the barbed comment. “You ordered a box with a lock on it. That’s not normal for delicate things like these.” He then went through the litany of things the artist had remembered about the unusual commission. It had been ordered to resemble a trinket box from the Victorian era, as it was intended as a gift for the buyer’s mother on her wedding anniversary. The design and decorations were all specifically spelled out. Sheet music had even been provided so the gold filigree was exact.
“Congratulations,” the Major said acidly. “You’ve uncovered my purchase of a painted piece of glass.”
“A painted piece of glass that has the identity of your Flower written all over it.”
“Now you’re reaching.”
Dorian patted the box. “This lovely red rose is an Eroica.”
“So you say,” Klaus replied blandly. “I say it’s just a rose. There must be hundreds of the wretched things.”
“The smaller ones,” Dorian went on, “wrapping around the edge, are English wild roses. I had to use a magnifying glass to see they’re not actually wrapped around a vine. They’re wrapped around a wire rope.”
The Major’s eyes flickered. His only visible response.
“The music was a puzzle because I was sure it was Beethoven’s ‘Eroica’ symphony.”
Klaus could not help but snort at this.
“Not Beethoven?”
“No.”
“No, not Beethoven. Not even close.” Dorian cocked his head to one side. “It’s The Tank Song.” He smiled as the Major’s eyes widened at this statement. “I played it on the piano, you see. Recognized it right off.” He gave Klaus a look through his eyelashes. “I’ll never forget the first time I heard it.”
Klaus groaned at this. He wished he could forget the embarrassing incident entirely. “So that’s your theory, huh?”
“You didn’t want your letters back because I was the one you’d written them to in the first place.”
“Eroica...”
Dorian pounced, “And then there’s that!”
Klaus blinked, wondering where this non-sequitur had sprung from. “There’s what?”
“Eroica. You’re the only one who ever calls me that!”
Klaus was still clueless. “So? I’m the only one who calls you a fucking pervert, what does that prove?”
Exasperated, Dorian stood up, slapping his hand on the lid of the box. “It’s the name of this bloody flower! Eroica! Your Flower is Eroica! Dear God, I can’t believe I didn’t see it!”
As the Earl continued to berate himself, Klaus lit a cigarette, glancing at his watch at the same time. Then he sat back and waited, wondering how long it would take before the Earl ran out of steam and finally realized he hadn’t uttered a word.
It took nearly five minutes.
“Well, aren’t you gonna say something?!” Dorian finally demanded.
Klaus gave a wry smile. “I thought maybe you’d forgot I was here,” he said aridly.
“Oh, very funny!”
“What am I supposed to say?” Holding up a hand, Klaus added quickly, “I know what you want me to say. And I know what you want to hear.”
“Major, I love you!”
“I know.”
“I want to be with you!”
“I know.”
“I worship the ground you walk on!”
This caused Klaus to give an amused snort. “Now you really are reaching.”
“No, I’m not!” Dorian objected. “I read every letter—”
“Yes, you read every letter,” Klaus interrupted sharply. “So you know I can confirm nothing.”
Dorian was incredulous. “Nothing!?”
“It would be too dangerous.”
Dorian waited, hoping there was more. But the Major just sat looking at him the same way he had for decades. He wanted to plead with the man, but could think of nothing more to say other than, “So...that’s it?
“Yes, that’s it,” Klaus said, rising to his feet and crossing to the table. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble and wasted a lot of energy over—” He broke off when he opened the box. He was going to say over an empty box, but it wasn’t empty. Once again it contained letters, only these were not the ones the Earl had stolen.
“Those are the ones I wrote you,” Dorian said in a quiet voice.
Klaus looked up sharply. “You wrote me?”
“You’re not the only one who gets lonely, Major. I thought it was only fair, since I have no intention of giving the others back.”
Klaus was silent a long time as he took this in. “I see,” he said at last, picking up the box.
Realizing there was nothing more to be said, Dorian crossed to the door and opened it. “Well, um...good-bye, Major.”
“Good-bye, Lord Gloria,” the Major replied, adding sharply, “And don’t even think of stealing that bloody pumpkin, either!”
“No, Major.” Dorian gave a bittersweet smile as he left, closing the door behind him. I’ve already stolen your heart. That will have to enough. For now.
* * *
Christmas came and went as usual, but the Eroica gang noticed that the Earl could not quite muster his usual holiday cheer. He put on a good front, that was certain. No one could light up a party the way the Earl of Gloria could. But ever since his last trip to Germany, he had been withdrawn. Sullen. And try as they might, no one, not even Bonham, could discover the reason.
“He’s finally seen sense,” James concluded. “Finally realized that Machine Maniac wants nothing to do with him.”
“I dunno,” Bonham replied. “’E’s been lovesick like this before.”
“No, he hasn’t!”
This ongoing argument of the past month was ended by the arrival of Jones. The look on his face caused the others to stop and stare. He looked...frightened.
“Jones? What on earth’s the matter? You look like someone’s walked over your grave,” Bonham said. He was none the wiser when the other man held up an envelope.
“It’s from Germany,” Jones said in a shaky voice. “You know what that means...”
“No! Not again!” James wailed. “He’ll have another fit! We can’t afford that!” He looked around, trying to think of a place in the house without breakables in it. “Give it to him in the bath—No, that won’t do. He’ll break the mirrors.”
“Who’ll break the mirrors, James?” came the Earl’s stern voice from the door.
James let out a small squeak and put a hand to his mouth.
Jones turned and held up the envelope. “This just arrived for you, m’lord.”
Bonham gave James a harsh look when it appeared he was going to pitch a fit.
Dorian sighed, wordlessly taking the envelope. He glanced at the label, sighed again, and turned, heading for his office. His first thoughts were that the Major was returning the letters he’d given him, but the envelope wasn’t nearly thick enough to hold them all. In fact, he’d barely been able to fit them all into the box that he’d returned there so many of them. Then again, if the Major had burned them, the ashes would probably fit...
After staring at the envelope for several minutes, Dorian could stand it no more and finally opened it. As he suspected, it contained another letter. And another note.
6 January
Epiphany
Your personal epiphany was impressive, Eroica.
–KvdE
Suddenly Dorian could not breathe. He sat down and fanned himself with the empty envelope, finally downing a glass of water. That was when he realized his hands were shaking, not that he could see them as his vision was suddenly blurred with tears. It took several minutes before he felt he had recovered enough that he could attempt to read the letter. He was disappointed to discover it was not a proud declaration of love but was like all the others before it, giving nothing away. That is, not until the last paragraph and Dorian could not keep the smile from blossoming across his face as he read it.
This winter is cold and dark, and the world around me all gray and colorless to the point where I begin to despair that you cannot be here to illuminate my world. Then I remember the shining silver thread that spans the distance between us, joining my heart to yours. That slender thread of love. Did I say thread? Nay, it’s a rope of wire that eternally binds me to you. And I am happy beyond all imagining knowing that it exists.
All my love forever,
Klaus
All my love forever.
Dorian stared at the words on the paper in his hand. There was so much he wanted to know. So much he wanted to ask. It was all he could do to keep himself from calling the Major right then and there.
No, that won’t do at all, he realized. Just getting this much out of the man had taken a full frontal assault and confrontation. And even then he had admitted nothing face-to-face. He needs to see that he can trust me with this secret.
Dorian took the letter and folded it, crossing to a display of antique boxes and opening a delicately painted porcelain box that had just arrived from Bonn. It was an exact duplicate of the one he had returned to the Major. But with one distinct difference. Encircling the rose motif inside the lid, written in gold, were the words, All My Love Forever, From Eroica With Love.
Dorian smiled as he read the words. Forever is a long time, Major. I’ll bet you don’t think I have the patience to wait that long.
The question is, now that you know I know, do you?
- END -