The Bad Beginning (5 page)

     “And what will I do?” Violet asked. “I am very handy with tools, so perhaps I could help you build the set.”

     “Build the set? Heavens, no,” Count Olaf said. “A pretty girl like you shouldn't be working backstage.”

     “But I'd like to,” Violet said.

     Count Olaf's one eyebrow raised slightly, and the Baudelaire orphans recognized this sign of his anger. But then the eyebrow went down again as he forced himself to remain calm. “But I have such an important role for you onstage,” he said. “You are going to play the young woman I marry.”

     Violet felt her oatmeal and raspberries shift around in her stomach as if she had just caught the flu. It was bad enough having Count Olaf acting in loco parentis and announcing himself as their father, but to consider this man her husband, even for the purposes of a play, was even more dreadful.

     “It's a very important role,” he continued, his mouth curling up into an unconvincing smile, “although you have no lines other than 'I do,' which you will say when Justice Strauss asks you if you will have me.”

     “Justice Strauss?” Violet said. “What does she have to do with it?”

     “She has agreed to play the part of the judge,” Count Olaf said. Behind him, one of the eyes painted on the kitchen walls closely watched over each of the Baudelaire children. “I asked Justice Strauss to participate because I wanted to be neighborly, as well as fatherly.”

     “Count Olaf,”_ Violet said, and then stopped herself. She wanted to argue her way out of playing his bride, but she didn't want to make him angry. “Father,” she said, “I'm not sure I'm talented enough to perform professionally. I would hate to disgrace your good name and the name of Al Funcoot. Plus I'll be very busy in the next few weeks working on my inventions—and learning how to prepare roast beef,” she added quickly, remembering how he had behaved about dinner.

     Count Olaf reached out one of his spidery hands and stroked Violet on the chin, looking deep into her eyes. “You will, ” he said, “participate in this theatrical performance. I would prefer it if you would participate voluntarily, but as I believe Mr. Poe explained to you, I can order you to participate and you must obey. ” Olaf's sharp and dirty fingernails gently scratched on Violet's chin, and she shivered. The room was very, very quiet as Olaf finally let go, and stood up and left without a word. The Baudelaire children listened to his heavy footsteps go up the stairs to the tower they were forbidden to enter.

     “Well,” Klaus said hesitantly, “I guess it won't hurt to be in the play. It seems to be very important to him, and we want to keep on his good side.”

     “But he must be up to something,” Violet said.

     “You don't think those berries were poisoned, do you?” Klaus asked worriedly.

     “No,” Violet said. “Olaf is after the fortune we will inherit. Killing us would do him no good.”

     “But what good does it do him to have us be in his stupid play?”

     “I don't know,” Violet admitted miserably. She stood up and started washing out the oatmeal bowls.

     “I wish we knew something more about inheritance law,” Klaus said. “I'll bet Count Olaf has cooked up some plan to get our money, but I don't know what it could be.”

     “I guess we could ask Mr. Poe about it,” Violet said doubtfully, as Klaus stood beside her and dried the dishes. “He knows all those Latin legal phrases.”

     “But Mr. Poe would probably call Count Olaf again, and then he'd know we were on to him,” Klaus pointed out “Maybe we should try to talk to Justice Strauss. She's a judge, so she must know all about the law.”

     “But she's also Olaf's neighbor,” Violet replied, “and she might tell him that we had asked. ”

     Klaus took his glasses off, which he often did when he was thinking hard. “How could we find out about the law without Olaf's knowledge?”

    
“Book!” Sunny shouted suddenly. She probably meant something like “Would somebody please wipe my face?” but it made Violet and Klaus look at each other. Book. They were both thinking the same thing: Surely Justice Strauss would have a book on inheritance law.

     “Count Olaf didn't leave us any chores to do,” Violet said, “so I suppose we are free to visit Justice Strauss and her library.”

     Klaus smiled. “Yes indeed,” he said. “And you know, today I don't think I'll choose a book on wolves.”

    
“Nor I,” Violet said, “on mechanical engineering. I think I'd like to read about inheritance law.”

     “Well, let's go,” Klaus said. “Justice Strauss said we could come over soon, and we don't want to be standoffish. ”

     At the mention of the word that Count Olaf had used so ridiculously, the Baudelaire orphans all laughed, even Sunny, who of course did not have a very big vocabulary. Swiftly they put away the clean oatmeal bowls in the kitchen cupboards, which watched them with painted eyes. Then the three young people ran next door. Friday, the day of the performance, was only a few days off, and the children wanted to figure out Count Olaf's plan as quickly as possible.

There
are many, many types of books in the world, which makes good sense, because there are many, many types of people, and everybody wants to read something different. For instance, people who hate stories in which terrible things happen to small children should put this book down immediately. But one type of book that practically no one likes to read is a book about the law. Books about the law are notorious for being very long, very dull, and very difficult to read. This is one reason many lawyers make heaps of money. The money is an incentive—the word “incentive” here means “an offered reward to persuade you to do something you don't want to do”—to read long, dull, and difficult books.

     The Baudelaire children had a slightly different incentive for reading these books, of course. Their incentive was not heaps of money, but preventing Count Olaf from doing something horrible to them in order to get heaps of money. But even with this incentive, getting through the law books in Justice Strauss's private library was a very, very, very hard task.

     “Goodness,” Justice Strauss said, when she came into the library and saw what they were reading. She had let them in the house but immediately went into the backyard to do her gardening, leaving the Baudelaire orphans alone in her glorious library. “I thought you were interested in mechanical engineering, animals of North America, and teeth. Are you sure you want to read those enormous law books? Even I don't like reading them, and I work in law.”

     “Yes,” Violet lied, “I find them very interesting, Justice Strauss.”

     “So do I,” Klaus said. “Violet and I are considering a career in law, so we are fascinated by these books.”

     “Well,” Justice Strauss said, “Sunny can't possibly be interested. Maybe she'd like tocome help me with the gardening.”

    
“Wipi!” Sunny shrieked, which meant “I'd much prefer gardening to sitting around watching my siblings struggle through law books.”

     “Well, make sure she doesn't eat any dirt,” Klaus said, bringing Sunny over to the judge.

     “Of course,” said Justice Strauss. “We wouldn't want her to be sick for the big performance.”

     Violet and Klaus exchanged a look. “Are you excited about the play?” Violet asked hesitantly.

     Justice Strauss's face lit up. “Oh yes,” she said. “I've always wanted to perform onstage, ever since I was a little girl. And now Count Olaf has given me the opportunity to live my lifelong dream. Aren't you thrilled to be a pare of the theater?”

     “I guess so,” Violet said.

     “Of course you are,” Judge Strauss said, stars in her eyes and Sunny in her hands. She left the library and Klaus and Violet looked at each other and sighed.

     “She's stagestruck,” Klaus said. “She won't believe that Count Olaf is up to something, no matter what.”

     “She wouldn't help us anyway,” Violet pointed out glumly. “She's a judge, and she'd just start babbling about in loco parentis like Me. Poe.”

     “That's why we've got to find a legal reason to stop the performance,” Klaus said firmly. “Have you found anything in your book yet?”

     “Nothing helpful,” Violet said, glancing down at a piece of scrap paper on which she had been taking notes. “Fifty years ago there was a woman who left an enormous sum of money to her pet weasel, and none to her three sons. The three sons tried to prove that the woman was insane so the money would go to them.”

     “What happened?” Klaus asked.

     “I think the weasel died,” Violet replied, “but I'm not sure. I have to look up some of the words. ”

     “I don't think it's going to help us anyway,” Klaus said.

     “Maybe Count Olaf is trying to prove that we're insane, so he'd get the money,” Violet said.

     “But why would making us be in The Marvelous Marriage prove we were insane?” Klaus asked.

     “I don't know,” Violet admitted. “I'm stuck. Have you found anything?”

     “Around the time of your weasel lady,” Klaus said, flipping through the enormous book he had been reading, “a group of actors put on a production of Shakespeare's Macbeth, and none of them wore any clothing.”

     Violet blushed. “You mean they were all naked, onstage?”

     “Only briefly,” Klaus said, smiling. “The police came and shut down the production. I don't think that's very helpful, either. It was just pretty interesting to read about.”

     Violet sighed. “Maybe Count Olaf isn't up to anything,” she said. “I'm not interested in performing in his play, but perhaps we're all worked up about nothing. Maybe Count Olaf really is just trying to welcome us into the family.”

     “How can you say that?” Klaus cried. “He struck me across the face.”

     “But there's no way he can get hold of our fortune just by putting us in a play,” Violet said. “My eyes are tired from reading these books, Klaus, and they aren't helping us. I'm going to go out and help Justice Strauss in the garden.”

     Klaus watched his sister leave the library and felt a wave of hopelessness wash over him. The day of the performance was not far off, and he hadn't even figured out what Count Olaf was up to, let alone how to stop him. all his life, Klaus had believed that if you read enough books you could solve any problem, but now he wasn't so sure.

    
“You there!” A voice coming from the doorway startled Klaus out of his thoughts.

     “Count Olaf sent me to look for you. You are to return to the house immediately.”

     Klaus turned and saw one of the members of Count Olaf's theater troupe, the one with hooks for hands, standing in the doorway. “What are you doing in this musty old room, anyway?” he asked in his croak of a voice, walking over to where Klaus was sitting. Narrowing his beady eyes, he read the title of one of the books. “Inheritance Law and Its Implications?” he said sharply. “Why are you reading that?”

     “Why do you think I'm reading it?” Klaus said.

     “I'll tell you what I think.” The man put one of his terrible hooks on Klaus's shoulder. “I think you should never be allowed inside this library again, at least until Friday. We don't want a little boy getting big ideas. Now, where is your sister and that hideous baby?”

     “In the garden,” Klaus said, shrugging the hook off of his shoulder. “Why don't you go and get them?”

     The man leaned over until his face was just inches from Klaus's, so close that the man's features flickered into a blur. “Listen to me very carefully, little boy,” he said, breathing out foul steam with every word. “The only reason Count Olaf hasn't torn you limb from limb is that he hasn't gotten hold of your money. He allows you to live while he works out his plans. But ask yourself this, you little bookworm: What reason will he have to keep you alive after he has your money? What do you think will happen to you then?”

     Klaus felt an icy chill go through him as the horrible man spoke. He had never been so terrified in all his life. He found that his arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably, as if he were having some sort of fit. His mouth was making strange sounds, like Sunny always did, as he struggled to find something to say. “Ah—” Klaus heard himself choke out. “Ah—”

     “When the time comes,” the hook-handed man said smoothly, ignoring Klaus's noises, “I believe Count Olaf just might leave you to me. So if I were you, I' d start acting a little nicer.” The man stood up again and put both his hooks in front of Klaus's face, letting the light from the reading lamps reflect off the wicked-looking devices. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to fetch your poor orphan siblings.”

     Klaus felt his body go limp as the hook-handed man left the room, and he wanted to sit there for a moment and catch his breath. But his mind wouldn't let him. This was his last moment in the library, and perhaps his last opportunity to foil Count Olaf's plan. But what to do? Hearing the faint sounds of the hook-handed man talking to Justice Strauss in the garden, Klaus looked frantically around the library for something that could be helpful.

     Then, just as he heard the man's footsteps heading back his way, Klaus spied one book, and quickly grabbed it. He untucked his shirt and put the book inside, hastily retucking it just as the hook-handed man reentered the library, escorting Violet and carrying Sunny, who was trying without success to bite the man's hooks.

     “I'm ready to go,” Klaus said quickly, and walked out the door before the man could get a good look at him. He walked quickly ahead of his siblings, hoping that nobody would notice the book-shaped lump in his shirt. Maybe, just maybe, the book Klaus was smuggling could save their lives.

Klaus
stayed up all night reading, which was normally something he loved to do. Back when his parents were alive, Klaus used to take a flashlight to bed with him and hide under the covers, reading until he couldn't keep his eyes open. Some mornings, his father would come into Klaus's room to wake him up and find him asleep, still clutching his flashlight in one hand and his book in the other. But on this particular night, of course, the circumstances were much different.