The Alienist - Mahogany is an Alienist's Best Friend

Chapter 1: John is no Moore

Chapter 1

The clock ticked monotonously in Laszlo's bachelor pad to which he had recently acquired. He sat with one arm lazily by his side, lifeless and broken, he made every attempt to ignore it though anger soared through him knowing that those he surrounded himself with believed him to be frail. He sipped his morning tea with ease hoping to calm his  mind. He began to think of John Moore. He thought of John a lot. It concerned Mary, though Laszlo didn't know sign language, so her concerns went unnoticed. Sometimes Laszlo became furiously paranoid that Mary may one day find out about his feelings for John, and he knew there was no doubt she would report him to Connor. Connor was soulless, but not because he was a corrupted hate-filled cop, no, one only had to look at the fiery red locks on his head to figure out where the demon brewed inside the Irish officer and why he lacked the purity of a soul.

Laszlo just finished his breakfast, which was made by Mary when he suddenly heard a loud manly knock on his wooden mahogany door. He instantly knew it was him! He jumped out of his mahogany chair, still wearing his silk robe which barely concealed his member, it was obvious he only wore it for John, though Mary liked to pretend it was for her. He opened the door so quickly with a wide smile on his face, but the disappointment rose through him like an unstable volcano. It was just Miss Howard again.

Laszlo attempted to hide the disappointment and anger though the red complexion on his otherwise pale face was a certain giveaway. "I hope I haven't disturbed you?" Miss Howard asked. His eyes glared through her, like many of his patients, he looked like he was ready to kill.

"No...no, of course not, come in Miss Howard." He said through gritted teeth. "Mary will get you something to drink, what do you take again?" His tone slowly becoming more tender as his mind wondered towards thoughts of John playing cricket with the local team.

"I'll take a fff-whiskey if you don't mind?" She said pleasantly, though she was aware she had interrupted Laszlo during one of his famous philosophising sessions.

"Jesus, Woman it's 10am...Mary, get Miss Howard a Whiskey...oh yes...on the rocks of course." He turned to Miss Howard, "So what brings you here today?"

"Ff-Well Laszlo... It's about John!" Miss Howard said with horror in her eyes, she sipped her whiskey to calm her nerves. Laszlo's eyes became watery, not John, not my Johnny boy, he thought. The anguish he felt pulled the calm collective appearance he usually kept right away.

Laszlo ordered Mary to bring him a double whiskey and the largest cigar she could find, but he couldn't smoke it as it reminded him too much of John. "Tell me, woman, what has happened to John?" Miss Howard began to answer but she stuttered, "Woman, tell me now or God forbid I will slap you silly!" shouted Laszlo, pulling his gun with mahogany handle, of which he was rather proud of, out from his dressing gown's pocket. He couldn't sleep without his gun anymore with all the boy whores running around his town.

The gun was aimed at her stomach and if he fired it would be a slow and painful death for Miss Howard. She stared back, her hands shaking. "Laszlo, don't shoo- is that a mahogany handle on that gun?"

Laszlo smiled, "what can I say, you have an eye for exquisite items I see, I got it whilst I was in Africa killing rare animals, one Joseph Conrad gifted it to me. We became rather close whilst travelling through the horrors, he said I was the best huntsman he had ever known, and I know he will be the greatest writer known to man, one day at least." He Paused, looking at his gun and remembering why he had pulled it out in the first place, "this is beside the point! tell me what happened to John, you jezebel!"

"I ff-went to his house yesterday as per usual, trying to make him stop drinking so early in the morning," Laszlo began to seethe with suspicion, angry at the thought of Miss Howard seeing John on a regular basis, however, he held in his questions and allowed her to carry on, "I ff-was knocking on his door and no one answered so I broke his ff-window and climbed into his house! On his table I saw a big cigar and a glass of unfinished ff-whiskey and you know he always drinks his morning ff-whiskey in one second after pouring it," they both laughed at the thought of John's crippling alcoholism, 'anyway, that's how I concluded he ff-was gone but certainly not on his own ff-will." Miss Howard breathed heavily as she unravelled her tale to Laszlo, his gun still pointed towards her. "Please, Laszlo, put down the gun."

His eyes cleared, his thoughts slowly becoming more rationalised each passing moment. He lowered the gun and placed it on his mahogany table. The table was large and expensive, he liked to tell Mary every day how much it had cost him whilst she sat in the servants' quarters at her broken desk. Laszlo felt himself growing faint and slowly sat at the table defeatedly sighing as he did so. He stared at the smooth wood in its expensive glory and felt saddened by how he spent every night at it alone eating by himself, drinking himself blind, only to wake up to Mary shaking him to check he wasn't dead. All Laszlo wanted to do was share this table with someone sometime. One-time Miss Howard had suggested he invited Mary to dine with him, but Laszlo scoffed at the idea, almost threw up at the thought of a servant sitting on one of his mahogany chairs. No, Laszlo only wanted John to dine with him, maybe after they went to see a play, possibly that new George Bernard Shaw play about whores, maybe after a few drinks at the table Laszlo could invite him into his room to smoke cigars and discuss the overt manliness of one Oscar Wilde. But this was all fantasy, and now with John missing Laszlo began to cry thinking that this image in his head of dining with John may remain just that, an image and nothing more. He remained seated, his hand gripping the gun, he felt a surge of power knowing it was mahogany, not only in his hands but his seat and table too. Laszlo was beginning to become akin to his father.

"Laszlo...Are you crying? I know you and John have a special bond, almost like brothers." Miss Howard paused, wondering if adult brothers bathed together like John and Laszlo but the thought only lasted a moment. Miss Howard could never understand how much love he had for John. "We shall find him together Laszlo!" Laszlo stopped crying whilst his robe showed his naked pale skin, leaving nothing to the imagination, Miss Howard took no shame in staring at his dangling Bratwurst making her think of her trip to Germany and this delicious dish she had had so often. He stood up quickly with his mahogany gun still in his hand, and like a startled deer ran towards the door determined to find his John.