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Gabriel Knight and the Changeling	By : Scribe Category: +G through L > Gabriel Knight (series) > Gabriel Knight (series) Views: 1333 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the game that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Gabriel Knight and the Changeling

Part Four
Gabriel was slumped in the passenger seat of the car. At the next traffic light Friedrich reached over and poked his young lover, not too gently. Gabriel started up with a snort. "Damn, Friedrich! You're just set on givin' me a heartattack, aren't you?"

"We're nearly there, Gabriel. It would be best if you were at least semi-conscious when we arrive."

Gabriel raked his hair out of his eyes, grumbling, "Ah don't see why we can't find a room so Ah can have a nap first."

"Because, liebling, if you lie down after gorging yourself like you just did you will fall into a sleep so deep it will approach coma. You really didn't need that second slice of cake."

Gabriel shrugged, grinning ruefully. "No point in bein' in Switzerland if you don't take advantage of th' chocolate." Gabriel plucked a Wet Wipe out of the box sitting on the dash and wiped his face. "Damn, they knew what they were doin' when they put lemon in these things. Perks you right up."

Friedrich leaned over, brushing the tip of his nose against Gabriel's cheek. "And they make you smell absolutely delicious."

Gabriel slid his hand over and stroked Friedrich's thigh. "You sure you don't want to go get a room?"

Friedrich laughed and put the car in gear as the light changed. "You're quite incorrigible, liebchen. That's one of the reasons I love you. But we have time, Gabriel. You'll realize that eventually."

They were only a few blocks from their destination, and traffic was light, so they reached it quickly. It was a pleasant looking block of apartments, with visitor parking clearly marked. As they got out, Friedrich studied the sign that was planted in the midst of a flourishing bed of multicolored flowers. "Gabriel, this is an assisted living community."

"Doesn't look like any nursin' home Ah've ever seen. They usually look like small hospitals that they decorated out of th' motel furnishings catalogue."

"No, this isn't exactly a nursing home. The people here would be more or less competent to care for themselves, and only need a little help--someone to check in on them regularly, in case of accident, or perhaps help with heavy chores. They probably provide some meals, light housekeeping, and perhaps a form of transportation."

"Well, Ah guess Miz..." He consulted the slip of paper that held the address and directions, "Johensen isn't quite ready t' be put away yet. Though Ah gotta admit, Ah think that her tales about kidnappin' fairies might make her kin think twice about lettin' her live alone."

Mrs. Andrea Torvald-Johensen lived in apartment 24A, the first floor. A fresh faced young woman at a desk in the front lobby had them sign a visitor's registration and directed them toward the back of the building, promising to call Mrs. Johensen and tell her that they were coming. "We don't want our residents to be startled if we can help it."

The building was very quiet and seemed almost deserted, except for an occasional uniformed man or woman pushing a cart of cleaning supplies or linens. "Where are all th' old folks?" Gabriel said quietly. There was something about the place that inspired hushed tones.

"It's just after lunch, Gabriel. I do not want to steorotype the elderly, but often they are like children, and take a nap in the afternoon," Friedrich replied.

Many of the doors they passed were decorated. There were heart shaped wreaths of twigs, bouquets of silk flowers, pictures of what had to be grandchildren, and at least one miniature teddy bear. 24A had none of this frippery, though. There was a gleaming, dignified brass nameplate that said 'TORVALD-JOHENSEN' above the equally shiny doorknocker.

Gabriel rapped twice. He had expected to wait, but the door was opening as he was withdrawing his hand. He found himself looking down at a female gnome. Well, that was the impression he got. *Probably since Ah have fairies on th' brain,* he thought, regarding the woman.

She was tiny but it wasn't because she had the stoop that many elderly women get. No, she was regally upright, but the top of her head only came up to the middle of Gabriel's chest. He couldn't tell what type of hair she had, because she had a black scarf tied over it. Still, it didn't look like the old fashioned babushkas so many European matrons wore. No, this was silk. Knotted just below her right ear, if fell past where her bosom must've been when she was younger. There was no way of telling how she had been when she was younger, but in her old age, Mrs. Andrea Torvald-Johensen had reverted to the 'skinny twelve year old boy' figure that so many pre-adolescent girls had.

The hand that held the door had enlarged knuckles and was decorated with several rings, a multitude of liver spots, and ropey, blue-green veins. In contrast, her complexion was smooth and even, untouched by make-up. There were lines, yes. Fans crinkled at the corners of her eyes, and there were deep grooves on either side of her mouth, but Gabe had seen a lot of hard living women in their forties who looked worse. She wore thick, wire rimmed glasses, but the blue eyes behind them were sharp and intelligent.

She lifted a still dark eyebrow and said, "Schattenjaeger?"

Gabriel felt like he should take off his hat, even though he wasn't wearing one. "Yes, ma'am--Gabriel Knight." Her eyes went to Friedrich. "An' my partner, Baron Friedrich von Glower." Friedrich gave her a tiny bow, and she nodded, as if this was her due.

"Come inside, gentlemen." The apartment was small, but the light, airy interior decoration made it seem larger. She had only a few well chosen pieces of furniture, and had avoided the cramped feeling that such places often have.

"If one of you will assist me, I have tea ready." Von Glower waved Gabriel to a seat on a plump sofa, and followed the lady into the kitchenette. They returned in a moment, Friedrich bearing a well laden tray that probably weighed almost as much as their hostess. She perched on a padded straight backed chair across a coffee table from Gabriel while Friedrich deposited the tray, then sat beside his lover.

"Will you take milk, or lemon?" Gabriel asked for milk, Friedrich opted to take his tea straight. Gabe watched as, with admirable steadiness, Mrs. Johensen filled the cups and handed them over. Her grip was so firm that the cups didn't chatter against the saucers at all. She watched as Gabriel deposited several lumps of sugar in his cup before stirring. "You have a sweet tooth, Mr. Knight."

"Must be from all those pralines Ah grew up on, ma'am. You wanted to talk to me about your great-grandchild?"

"No. Please have a cookie. The bakery uses real butter."

Friedrich and Gabriel exchanged glances. Friedrich said gently, "We had been told that you were concerned about your great-grandson."

She waved. "No, Lukas is fine, if upset. It's his son I'm worried about--my great-great grandson."

"Oh." Gabriel scratched his head. 'I guess Gerde didn't hear quite right."

"It wasn't her fault," their hostess assured him. "I made the call from my son's home, and I may not have been as clear as I wished. He was in the next room, and he'd forbidden me to call you." She snorted scornfully. "Forbidden me! I wiped filth from that boy's bottom till he learned to use the pot like a civilized human being. I nursed him till my bosom was as flat as a pancake, and he forbids me to try to save his own great-grandchild. I love him, but I think he's getting senile, and he's only sixty. Ah, well." She shook her head. "I spoiled him terribly, but he was a late born baby. I was past forty when I had him."

Gabriel and Friedrich exchanged looks. That meant that Mrs. Johensen had to be at least one hundred years old. Friedrich looked at her with interest. This woman was the closest to his own great age of anyone he'd ever run into.

Andrea was continuing. "Daniel is my son's, daughter's, son's son." She smiled, showing teeth so perfect that they had to be manufactured. Gabriel, who had begun to be a bit intimidated, was reassured by this down-to-earth intimation of mortality. "It's a bit complicated, I know, but the child is my blood, and I can't just sit back while they dither about, especially since none of them are willing to face the truth."

"What is the truth?" asked Friedrich.

She sighed, as if a child had asked her the same question for the hundredth time. "That the baby has been kidnapped by the faerie, and a changeling left in his place." She took a sip of tea. "I believe that now is the time that you gently suggest that I am deluded."

Gabriel didn't quite choke on his tea. "No, ma'am, I wasn't goin' t' do that."

"Good. I am a patient woman, but I grow tired of defending my competence."

"Mrs. Johensen," Friedrich said, "Gabriel and I are much less likely to scoff than the general public. There are things in our own backgrounds that predispose us to consider possibilities that would appear outlandish to others."

"Can you tell us why you've come to this conclusion, ma'am?" Gabriel asked.

"Several reasons, young man. I didn't just grab at the possibility. The child was born at midnight, such people are closer to the faerie realm. The child was also born in the dark of the moon, a time when the faerie folk roam free. Since the boy was born in a modern hospital, none of the ancient precautions were taken--no salt or millet on the doorsteps, no rowan wands on the window sills, nothing to keep out the faerie. Then there is the child itself. There was a marked change in appearance in only a few hours. It is thin and peevish, unnaturally pale. It eats and eats, but does not thrive. And most importantly, it is smooth."

"Well, most babies are."

"Not just the skin, Mr. Knight though indeed, that is rough. No, his feet and hands--there are no wrinkles or creases to mark him as a singular soul. His footprints are blank, and if they took his fingerprints, they would find them the same."

"Could there be some disorder that could cause this?" Friedrich asked.

"That is what the doctors think. But Herr von Glower, they printed the baby in the delivery room, as they always do these days. He had perfectly normal footprints then, they are on file. Then less than a day later--nothing. No, this is not the same baby."

"How are th' authorities reactin' to this, ma'am?"

"With confusion, Herr Knight. There seemed to have been no lapse in security. A baby was left in the nursery, a baby was in the nursery when they came for it. No one saw a stranger in or about the nursery. The child they brought to my great-grandson's wife wore the identification bracelet that was placed on her child in the delivery room, but the baby was so thin that it could have been slipped off one child and on another. They seem to believe that a substitution might have been made. They are, however, at a loss as to why it might have been done, who might have taken Daniel, and who this baby might be. What is that old saying--a mystery, wrapped in an enigma? The only theory they have ruled out is mine." She made a disgusted gesture. "I thought the one detective was going to pat me on the head and suggest I take some warm milk and go to bed. They will not take the possibility seriously, so I had no choice but to call you." She smiled, showing the dentures again. "My family has not had cause to call upon a Schattenjaeger for many generations, but I have known of your family from my childhood. I hardly hoped that your family had continued in its dedication, but I knew that a Schattenjaeger was our only hope."

Gabriel put down his cup and saucer. "Ma'am, Ah have to warn you--Ah'm sorta new to this business. Ah've had some success, but it's been flyin' by the seat of my pants. Ah'd be happy to look into this for you, but Ah can't guarantee you anythin'."

She nodded. "I understand, Herr Knight."

Gabriel sighed. "Ma'am, what do you expect me to do?"

She reached out and laid a hand on his. Gabriel was struck by the fragility of that touch. He could feel a faint tremor. When he looked into Andrea Johensen's face, for the first time she looked truly old, and there was sorrow and fear in her eyes. "I expect you to do what you can, Herr Knight. Little Daniel may be lost to us forever, but one cannot just allow the darkness to take one of their own blood. You understand?"

Gabriel and Friedrich exchanged looks. Yes, they understood. Friedrich had gone from Germany to America in search of Blair Sandburg. Blair was his child of the fang, created a werewolf by Von Zell, who he had, himself, given the curse of lycanthropy. Blair had been released from the clutches of the beast when von Glower was killed by Grace Nakimura--Gabriel's former friend. Jim Ellison and Blair had used CPR to restart von Glower's heart, but it was really Gabriel who had saved him. Gabriel's pleading, his need, his sheer will, had called Friedrich back from the darkness. Yes, they knew about fighting for one you loved.

"Ah'll do my damndest, ma'am," Gabriel said quietly.

"Thank you, young man," her voice was dignified, but there was sincere gratitude.

Gabriel and Friedrich stood up. "Mrs. Johensen," Friedrich said, "If you could give us something to indicate that we have your permission to investigate, it would make things easier."

"Certainly." She indicated a small desk. "If you would, there is a tablet and pen there." Friedrich fetched the requested items, and the woman wrote two notes. "I will also call them personally." She folded the notes, slipping them into envelopes. "Do you have an investigator's license, Herr Knight? It is not that I require it, but it might make things easier for you. The police seem to think that no one but themselves can solve a mystery."

"I have a German license." He shrugged. "Wouldn't have that if someone hadn't insisted." Friedrich smiled. She handed over the envelopes, and Gabriel tucked them in his jacket. "Thanks. We'll need t' talk to the parents, too. We'll need their address, and th' names of the people we should see at th' hospital."

She made another list. "Lukas may be reluctant to talk to you--he has already expressed scorn for the idea." She shook her head. "The young so often discount anything the old have to say. He is only twenty-four, and he knows everything, of course. But Larissa..." she nodded, "the girl was raised right. And she knows." Mrs. Johensen squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "A mother can tell. My God, what the girl must be going through." She touched a tissue to the corner of her eyes, then shook her head. She piled several cookies into a napkin, folded it, and handed it to Gabriel. "Here, young man, take this."

"Oh, really, ma'am, Ah couldn't."

"Of course you can. I saw you eyeing them, but your politeness overcame your greed, which is as it should be. Take them."

Gabriel did, but he protested, "Ma'am, this is a linen napkin."

"You will return it when you report to me."

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am, Ah will." This time Gabriel joined Friedrich in his bow as they left.

"She reminds me a lot of my Grandma Knight," said Gabriel as they walked back to the car. "Maybe not quite as sweet, but genteel and practical to the bone."

"She is a lady rather than just a woman," Friedrich agreed. "I hope we can help her."

"Well," Gabriel slapped him on the back before going around to the passenger side, "we're gonna give it the old college try, anyway. The hospital is closest--let's try there first."
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Gabriel Knight and the Changeling