Chapter 33 Chapter Thirty-Two

As soon as I entered Turgut's study, I immediately felt a darker presence, and this lingering feeling gradually overwhelmed the slight influence on me of the works he studied in English.This existence turned into a face, and suddenly jumped from the table to my eyes.The face is everywhere, in a painting behind a desk, in a picture frame on the desk, in a quirky embroidery on the wall, on the cover of a portfolio, in a picture near the window. In the sketch, the face met my gaze with an air of arrogance.Everywhere the face was the same, the same thin cheekbones, bearded, medieval countenance, only in a different pose, from a different source.

Turgut looked at me. "Ah, you know who this is," he said darkly. "You can see that I have collected all his appearances." We stood there side by side, looking at the framed print on the wall behind the desk.This is a replica of a woodcut, similar to the ones I saw in China, but this face is completely frontal, and those black eyes seem to see through us. "Where did you get all these different portraits?" I asked. "From anywhere I can get it," Turgut pointed to the folio on the table, "sometimes I trace it from ancient books, and sometimes I go to ancient book stores or auctions. In our city , I find it incredible that so many different portraits of him are still everywhere. I feel that if I could collect all of his portraits, maybe I could read my wordless novel in his eyes. The Secret of the Book." He sighed, "But these woodcuts are too rough, only in black and white. I didn't feel satisfied, so I asked an artist friend of mine to combine all the portraits into one."

He led us into an alcove by the window, where a short black velvet curtain was hung and covered with something. Before he pulled the curtain, I was already a little scared.With a pull of his hand, the curtain parted, and my heart almost turned over.Behind the velvet is a full-length oil painting, vividly depicting the head and shoulders of a stubby-necked, energetic young man.I turned my head and took a breath.Helen stood beside me, leaning slightly towards my shoulder, as if not looking for comfort, but to give me strength. "My friend is a fine artist," said Turgut softly, "and you can see why I have curtained it. I don't like to see it when I'm working."

I think he could also say he didn't like the portrait looking at him. "This is how we imagined Vlad Dracula to look like in 1456." Turgut pulled up the curtain, and I was glad that those terrible eyes were gone. "I have other strange things." Here's something for you to see," he said, picking up a handsome intarsia wooden box from the table and unfastening the clasp. Among the faded layers of black silk were some sharp objects, like surgical instruments, and a small silver gun and a silver knife. "What's that?" Helen stretched out her hand towards the box hesitantly, then retracted it.

"This is an authentic tool for hunting vampires. It has been around for a hundred years," Turgut said proudly. "This place used to store garlic, but I hung mine up." He pointed to it, and I saw it. Seeing that there were long strings of dried garlic hanging on both sides of the door facing the desk, I couldn't help shivering again.It occurred to me that Professor Borah was not only cautious, but crazy.I had the same thought a week ago when I was with Rosie. "Maybe you are thinking too much," Turgut seemed to capture the expression on my face, and said slightly apologetically, while still pointing at the garlic, "Actually, I just want to sit here and think about these evil pasts, I don't want to be left without any protection. Now, let me show you what I really brought you here for."

Turgut produced a small book with an ancient leather cover, and I managed to hold myself back from reaching for it. Turgut gently opened the book, first showing us the front and back blanks, and then the central woodcut - the already familiar shape: the crowned dragon spreads its evil wings, holding the dragon in its claws. That flag has that scary name written on it. I opened the briefcase I carried with me and took out my copy.Turgut placed the two books side by side on the table, and we compared the wicked gifts we had each received.We found that the two dragons were exactly the same, his one covered the whole page, and the image was darker; There is a bit of ink on each print.

Helen silently bent down to watch. "Unbelievable," Turgut finally gasped, "I never thought I'd see a second book like this." "And heard about the third one," I reminded him. "Don't forget, it's the third one I've seen with my own eyes. Rossi's is the same woodcut." He nodded.At this time, the door with two strings of weird garlic heads opened suddenly, and we all jumped up. But instead of a ghastly apparition, a little lady in green stood in the doorway, smiling.This is Turgut's wife, and we all rise to greet her. "Good afternoon, dear," Turgut quickly pulled her in, "This is my friend, I told you, a professor from America." He introduced graciously, "I am most afraid of my wife Yeah," he told us smugly, "she's a tigress."

Helen was quite a bit taller than Mrs. Bora, and she smiled at the two of them.These two are really cute. Turgut sipped his coffee with a cheerful look on his face. "We still have a lot of work to do. My dear,"—turning to his wife—"We are looking for a missing professor, and I will be busy for a few days. God. " "A missing professor?" She smiled and looked at him calmly. "Okay, but we have to eat first. I want you to eat here." She turned to Helen. I dared not think that we were going to eat, and I was careful not to look at Helen. However, Helen seemed to think that all this was normal, "Thank you, Mrs. Bora. You are very kind, but we have to go back to the hotel. We have an appointment at five o'clock."

They escorted us out the door ceremoniously. "It's a happy marriage, I suppose," I remarked to Helen, but immediately regretted it, for she responded with her customary grunt. "Come on, Yankee," she said, "we've got new work to do." In the past, I would have smiled at her nicknames, but this time I shivered and turned to look at her.After this singular visit this afternoon, I had another thought, which I have been repressing. I looked at Helen, and she turned to look at me. Her strong and beautiful face had some resemblance to the face behind the curtain of Turgut's house, and I was shocked.