"He is very interested in a French play called the King in Yellow. In translation, I think."

"That's the one that led to the riot, isn't it?"

"Yes. I haven't seen it or read in its entirety. But my friend--" where did that come from, he wonders-- "who knows the play well explained its major motifs to me. Der Wanderer makes multiple references to it, unmistakably. And in fact Roby discussed it with my friend. With enthusiasm."

"Huh," Carter says. "Well, nothing wrong with writing a story about a favorite play. Kind of odd he never mentioned it to me..."

"It's possible that he's gotten more passionate about this play since you saw each other, but it IS odd that it forms such a big part of his work and he never mentioned it."

He shakes his head. "Well, Roby was always a quiet man. I don't think I ever really got to know him. No one except his closest friends did."

"I hope that you do," he says. He finds that he's sincere about it. "His close friends-- did you know them?"

"Yeah. There were four of them, they went out almost every night."

"Were they at all literary? Do you know their names?"

"Chris Parker, he was like fifty-five. Oddly high voice. Antiques dealer. Ben Best, he worked at the Royal Society. Incredibly nice guy and you could tell it wasn't fake, you know, he always wanted the best things for everyone. I always found it weird he didn't have a girl. --Or a guy. And some guy named DeVille. I never got to know him well."

He has never heard of Best or DeVille. Sounds like Roby hung around a lot of queers even for a bohemian. He hates to pry into how the guy spends his free time but it could be useful information.

Certain universities and museums sometimes contacted Parker, because he could knowledgeably authenticate and identify occult manuscripts, but he hasn't been active in this for the last ten years. He deals in antiques and rare books from his North London address; it takes a lot to get his attention but when you do he's competent and utterly ruthless.

"Parker's a big name in antiques and rare books." Whom Oscar has avoided dealing with as he has a certain reputation for ruthlessness. In any case-- "Do you think he'd be willing to help with Roby? I'd like to talk to him." He hopes Carter has a better read on Parker here because contacting him out of nowhere to ask about an unfortunate friend sounds terrible. Though many things about the Roby business are terrible, comes with the territory.

"I never knew him well," Carter says. "Frankly, the man kind of scares me."

"I've heard some stories, yeah." Come to think of it, he did have a surprisingly pleasant two-minute conversation with Parker one time at a release party but that's probably not enough to build a successful visit to Parker's shop around, especially with something as sensitive as Roby's case. "And I'll be honest, hearing that stuff turned me off working with him more closely. I take it you've seen it firsthand?"

He shakes his head. "Yeah. He's... very unpleasant."

"Sorry to hear it. I'm surprised to hear he got on so well with Roby-- you mentioned him being a sweetheart?"

"Well, it might be easier for an asshole to get along with a sweetheart than to get along with another asshole."

Oscar knows a lot about that actually.

He laughs. "Tell me about it. But honestly, you're doing a really good thing here. You've given me a great place to start. One last thing-- do you know who carries Roby's book?"

"Not off the top of my head but I'm sure you can find one."

He hesitates. "--There was one weird thing about Parker."

Huh, weird even by Carter's standards.

"Yeah?"

He sighs. "There isn't a week that goes by where I don't dream about it."

Honestly, Oscar knows that feeling too.

"Oh," he says, "I've heard some bad things about him, but that sounds awful."

"It was three AM," Carter says, "I was out for a walk. Couldn't sleep, you know. Ran into Parker. Didn't feel like talking to him, but we wound up walking the same direction. He was going slow, looking in alleys and doorways by the light of an electric torch."

Is this how Oscar is going to find out that Parker mutilates cats or something.

"He stopped before this sleeping tramp. He lifted up his arms and I heard from all over this whistling noise. The tramp screamed, on and on, but Parker didn't touch him. Then both noises stopped and Parker walked away."

"Jesus."