Quoted By:
She drags you further away from Monty's tent, and for the first time you catch sight of Gil, who's pitifully squatting against it. He sees you and half-stands— you sign "SORRY!" at him as you stumble away. "Okay," says Eloise. "I am going to tell you something about Monty that might put some stuff into context. If you spread it around I'll <span class="mu-i">know</span> it's you, so don't even think about it. It's private."
"I'm— I'm <span class="mu-i">trustworthy.</span>"
"Pull the other one. Uh... look, I'll be real concise about it. Monty Gewecke is a dangerous man. The friendly cuddly stuff is a put-on. I have it secondhand that he's killed a half-dozen up there, and I have it on gut that he's killed at least one more down here."
He's— he's killed— wait a second, you knew this. Monty already told you about his whole stupid murder tournament thing. You allow yourself some satisfaction at being a step ahead of Eloise, of all people. "...Geez."
"Yes, Charlotte. Geez. Now, I don't know for sure what he's doing here in Boringland writing paperwork, but I assume he's attempting to escape the <span class="mu-i">seven</span> skeletons in his closet. Which, let me be clear, is good for him. I'm in support of redemption! I just think he's going about it in the most dogshit manner possible, because—"
You know this too. God, you're good. "Because he's all stupid and nice and then he strangles innocent people?"
"<span class="mu-i">Yeah.</span> Well, not the— the strangling's new, Charlotte. But he's the most hilariously repressed person you've ever met 39 days of 40 and then—" She snaps her fingers. "—he loses it. Like clockwork. Usually it's real polite, private losing it, but you can tell, because suddenly it's Madrigal doing the rounds for a day or two. And then he's back. This has been happening for <span class="mu-i">years,</span> since— basically since Constance died. The wife."
You are beginning to get the sense that Eloise has been waiting to tell somebody about all this. Gil is making prolonged eye contact with you. "Oh. So you think—"
"Constance was keeping him stable? Oh, no, definitely. Now, is he unstable because isn't getting laid? Maybe! But he won't <span class="mu-i">get</span> laid. Or drink. Or gamble. Or have any fun whatsoever, essentially, so—" She tosses her hands up. (It's obviously a pet peeve.) "We're stuck with the results! All of us. Which is why you constantly setting him off... I want to be clear about two things, okay, Charlotte? One is that you could get yourself <span class="mu-i">killed,</span> and I'm not hyperbolizing. He is capable of it. Have you seen how jacked he is? Two is that if he snaps for good, then you've put 30 people out of a home. There is no functioning camp without Monty, full stop. This is what you're playing with."
(3/4)
