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A damn job #3 (comic fantasy)

Meanwhile, in the dark library of an ancient house.

“Have you found it?” asked a sinister shadow moving as if it was looking for its hands, all wrapped in a wide overcoat.
Another shadow as grim as the previous one, but higher than average, stopped the lashing with which it had cut the dark and smoky air up to then.
“I believe this is the one, sir” it said.
There was a black dart, a quiet rustling, then a deaf plonk could be heard.
“That’s my nose!”.
“Forgive me, sir… Here I am”.
An oil lamp started to shed a dim light.
“Well done” the rough shadow, that was turning into a small hooded man, stifled a shout of joy. “Now we must look for what we’ve come here for”.
“And what would it be, sir?”.
“I’ll know it when I’ve found it”.
“Er… sure, sir. I see. I’ll… Hum… start to look for it, then”.
“Yes, certainly”.

The oil lamp swung and seemed to fall, but it was only the impression it gave passing from the hand of the person who had lit it to the hand of the other hooded figure, that was lower and that was now holding it above its head.
“While I take care of the library, go and check the bathroom” the small figure ordered trembling with excitement.
“The bathroom, sir?”.
“Think! Where would you hide an invaluable object?”.
“I… an invaluable object? I don’t think I’ve ever owned one, sir. You know, with what you earn doing this job”.

From underneath a grey hood, an upset shadow stared at a shadow biting its tongue underneath another grey hood.
“Let’s suppose you owned one”.
“Well, in that case I believe I would keep it in a safe box. In a safe box well guarded in the Bank of Quelpa”.
“Oh! But what if you couldn’t address to a bank?”.
“Why not, sir?”.
“I…”. The little hooded man smoothed his face with one hand. “Let’s say because it’s a matter on which you must observe strict silence. Everything should remain obscure, nothing should transpire”.
“Then I can’t see where the problem is, sir”, the towering tweed mass shrugged its shoulders. “When it comes to transparency, the bank is the chastest institution, sir”.
“Let’s leave the banks alone! You have this invaluable object and you must hide it in a safe place where nobody can find it, where would you hide it?”.
“And should I keep it at home?”.
“No bank?”.

A thoughtful hood stared at the other hood that was now exasperatedly waiting several inches lower.
“Well, in that case in the toilet flush, sir. I’d hide it in the bathroom in the toilet flush… Oh… Sure, the bathroom. I’ll run there, sir”.

The huge hooded figure rustled away and became a sinister shadow again, while the other one, smaller and quick-tempered, stayed in the library, wrapped in silence and in that cloak two sizes bigger than it. Looking around, it rolled up its sleeves, then it went close to a shelf.
It examined the titles imprinted on the spines of some books and felt pervaded by a timeless nobility, eager to feed on the source of knowledge, because the soul of every book-lover and also the soul of the ones who read just a few lines before falling asleep and that of the ones who don’t take the trouble to do the shopping list either like, by sheer chance, our hooded being, is inclined to feel part of that vast humanity that has searched the deep sea of knowledge.

“It isn’t us who choose a book” it sighed rapt with a thrill. It stretched out its hesitating fingers trying to brush the precious tomes that were lined up on the shelf above. “No, it isn’t us. It’s the book that chooses uu… uuu…”. The heaviest one had found it.