A Knight At The Art Museum

by Barney F. Brazil



"Hello, Daphne" Velma Dinkley spoke in a measured tone as her redheaded roommate entered the art gallery.  The bespectacled college student gritted her teeth as she eyed the green and purple dress with the leg slit and the décolletage.  Every guy in the room was going to…

"Good evening, Velma" Daphne sniffed, doing her best to hide her indignant tone at her friend's own medieval gown.  Thankfully, it was much frumpier than her own, with that ridiculous conical….

"Here for the collegiate art exhibition, no doubt," Velma began.  "Is your entry a painting, drawing or sculpture?" she added with a slight tone of sarcasm.

"Merely an observer," the redhead replied, almost sounding flippant in her remarks.  "So this is your item for display?" she pointed to an ugly abstract clay object.

"No," Velma muttered, unable to control her seething.  "In fact, if you must know, I'm solving a mystery."

"By a happy coincidence, so am I," Daphne responded in her most snobbish tone.

"Back off the Jameson Hyde-White kidnapping," Velma growled under her breath.  "He's my case."

"No doubt, your interest in the matter has nothing to do with earning his gratitude for rescuing him, and perhaps his affection…." she said, mocking Velma's scholarly tone.

Velma flushed.  "What's your interest in him…you've already got Fred!"

By this time, several other museum patrons at the fundraiser started to take notice, and at more than just Daphne's outfit.   The redhead wisely chose to whisper her words.  "I'm not looking to replace Fred….I'm looking to get even for you taking my dark chocolate while I was helplessly tied up."

Velma gasped.  So that was her roommate's game.  "Well you knocked off my glasses…."

"May the best girl win," Daphne challenged.

"You'll lose…you'll see," Velma snarled.  "While you lollygag around with the men, pumping them for useless information, I'll be on the computer…in the archives….Hyde-White will be as good as in the palm of my hand and you won't have a clue."



While Velma ran off to the attack the data, no doubt planning to print out reams of paper that would cover every possible lead, Daphne considered her strategy.  Originally, it was about making her bespectacled roommate jealous, but maybe Velma was onto something.  Freddie was sweet, and fairly good looking, but he could be a little dense and goofy at times.  And Hyde-White, with his maturity, distinguished mustache to complement his looks and sexy British accent wouldn't be a bad catch for herself either, she mused, thinking of the occasional times she accidentally caught herself daydreaming about him in their anthropology class, something Velma did on a daily basis.

Rather than mimic her nerdy roommate's comprehensive style, perhaps she should play to her strengths, Daphne thought.  Gliding in and out of conversations, she weaved her way from fellow collegiate students to art teachers and other professors, to patrons from the business community, some of whom sat on the Board of Trustees at the college with her daddy.

But nobody seemed to know much more than what the local paper hinted at, even though she inherited nearly a dozen phone numbers and ogling from the males, and dirty looks from their wives and girlfriends.  Looks like brains beats body tonight, she speculated disconsolately, expecting her roommate to show up any minute with their brilliant professor.  She just hated loosing to that nerdy….

"Miss Blake," a quivering voice began.  She spun around to be confronted with the diminutive museum curator.  "Oh, Mr. Wickles…you startled me."

"My apologies, young lady, but I think I overheard you asking about Professor Hyde-White," he stammered.

"Oh yes, see, he's my professor and all, and, I, just want, to find him," she explained.  "In fact, if you must know, he's my favorite teacher."

A flash of anger seemed to come over the small man's face, but then he smiled.  Maybe I'm seeing things, she thought.

"If you don't mind, Miss Blake, I may know something about the case," Wickles managed.  "The police ignored it, but maybe you can use the clue to solve his kidnapping."

"You bet!" Daphne beamed.

"Wait five minutes after I leave," Wickles rasped, "And then head to the student studio.  If we left together, it might tip off the person responsible for the deed."

"Excellent thinking," Daphne beamed, clasping his hand.  "I really appreciate it."

"The pleasure is all mine," the curator said as he bowed slightly, then headed over to the table where the finger foods and drinks could be found.  

Daphne went over to have a quick word with Julie Johnson, another girl in her sorority, about their upcoming formal.  Then, giving Wickles an extra five minutes, she headed off in the direction of the studio, to appear as though it was an innocuous visit.

The studio itself was relatively dark.  The curator was nowhere to be seen.  Maybe he's looking for the clue in his office, she reasoned, heading forward to take a look at the Rembrandt painting, and the student rendition of it.  Not bad at all….

Then it happened.  A metallic glove clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream.  In surprise, she dropped her cup as the other hand grasped her wrist.

"Don't scream," a voice said in a mock deep tone "or you'll wind up like Anne Boleyn… understand?"

She paused, then nodded.  It wouldn't matter…she lacked the strength to pry his hand away from her lips.  I know that voice, she realized.  It was "Old Man Wickles."  But what was he doing in that knight costume?

He removed his hand from her mouth, and she took a minute to catch her breath.  "Wha-what do you intend to do with me?"

"You co-eds…always fawning over your foreign teachers," Wickles said angrily as he yanked down a sash tie from one of the windowsills, and began to lash her wrists behind her back, knotting them tightly over her long purple gloves.  "Well now you'll get to spend plenty of time with him…after hours."

He pulled her across the room.  "Now you'll see your beloved professor," Wickles grinned, then pulled aside a mask and thick robes which covered her favorite teacher, as helpless as she was.  "Both of you will accompany me on the ride to where these items will be sold at the auction.  Instead of thinking he was kidnapped, people will suspect Hyde-White of abducting his prize pupil, while I put in appearances by day dropping hints about where he might have taken you, earning a tidy sum from the sale of these rare items and antiquities after hours."

"You…you monster!" she screeched.  Not only would she be his captive, but her teacher would be unfairly blamed for her disappearance.  They'd be at the mercy of some cruel individual.

"I told you to keep quiet!" he hissed.  "Now you've forced me to speed up my plan."  She saw him pull a long piece of fabric from one of the tables.

"You…you're not going to use that as…as a gag?" she squeaked.  She had no idea where it had been.

"Relax, princess…I can think of things you are wearing that would suitably keep you quiet just as effectively, if you object to this cloth."

She pursed her lips, quivering with rage.  "This…is so….unfair," she managed indignantly.  Her assailant merely responded by stuffing a handkerchief in her mouth, earning a squeal of anger.  As she rocked her head back and forth to distract him, he managed to push it in further, jamming it completely inside.  She tried to push it out with her tongue, but a moment later, he covered her nose, lips and lower half of her face with the sash used to keep her hat fastened to her chin.  She was now effectively bound and gagged.

He turned to Daphne.  "You, my dear, will have the pleasure of traveling in the mummy sarcophagus.,,,"

"Hey Wickles!"

The curator turned just in time to have a football whiz by, striking him on the cheek.  His glasses flew in one direction and he stumbled into another.

"Leave my gal alone!" the blond commanded.  He pounced, pummeling Wickles into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, campus security had arrived and was already tending to Professor Hyde-White.  "Good thing I followed you to the studio…wanted to see if you and I could have a little privacy…I mean that dress is a total turn-on," he said jovially as he fiddled with the sash binding her wrists.  "By the way, are you okay?"

"MMMPHHHH!!!" was all she could manage, grateful for the rescue but a little miffed at his foolishness.

"Oh…right…the gag…" he said evenly, spinning her around so they were face to face.  He paused for a moment, as if taking in the vision of her in a helpless predicament.  Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled down the sash.  Barely giving her time to spit out the wad, he covered her mouth with a kiss, before she could give him an earful for his ogling of her as a damsel-in-distress.  While appreciative of his amorous behavior, she thought how Professor Hyde-White might properly rescue her, instead of gawking like the schoolboy Fred was.

Finally, she pushed him away.  "Thanks and all…for the rescue.  Glad to provide you some free entertainment at the end," she added sardonically.  He just grinned and winked at her, enhancing her frustration.

"Mr. Jones, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like a word with Miss Blake," Professor Hyde-White politely interrupted.

"Sure," Fred shrugged his shoulders.  The police seemed eager to talk to him anyway, no doubt interested to hear how he stopped Wickles with one of his patented touchdown passes.

Hyde-White clasped her gloved hands in his.  She felt very close to him.  "Forgive me, my dear, but I've been meaning to ask you…."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Velma hollered, stamping her feet up and down, throwing a major temper tantrum at the sight of Hyde-White and her roommate holding hands.  She finally stormed out of the art studio as everyone quieted to witness the spectacle.

"What ever could have troubled Miss Dinkley?" Professor Hyde-White wondered aloud.

"Probably forgot about that rough draft for our class that she wanted to finish for you early," the redhead offered quickly.  "She gets really uptight about not having things done a week ahead of the due date."

"That's hardly surprising, given how competent a student she is," Hyde-White admitted.  "But though highly intelligent, she seems to lack the real world experience you seem to possess."

Wow…she thought, getting weak-knees. Though she thought of her own crush on him as a schoolgirl fancy, she had no idea how into her he was.

"Perhaps you could stop by my office tomorrow night," Hyde-White continued in a lower voice.  "I'd like for us to have more than just a simple student-teacher relationship."

"Oh yes, Dr. Hyde-White…" she gushed, a little too quickly, then composed herself quickly.  "I mean, would eight o'clock be satisfactory for our little rendezvous?"

"Quite acceptable," Hyde-White said in his oh so sexy British accent.  "It'll be well worth your while."



The day had seemed to drag on forever, Daphne thought as she made her way across the college to his office.  Doing laundry, taking a long bubble bath, shaving her legs, brushing her hair for hours, she kept herself busy all day in preparation.

Then it came time to select the perfect outfit.…the tightest school sweater possible with the shortest skirt in her wardrobe, the bright-colored headband and matching scarf dangling from her neck….it was a busy day.  Everything had to be perfect.  Professor Hyde-White was no ordinary man.  Besides, Saturday night meant poker night for Fred, Alan, Mark, Tinker and even Shaggy some nights.  Homework could wait until Sunday afternoon….maybe Sunday evening, if she dallied long enough in the morning.  

Velma could only pretend to read her book, clearing her throat every time Daphne began her contended hum, glowering whenever Daphne gave that satisfied smirk that said "I beat you and I'm going to see the hottest catch on campus."

The academic building was mostly deserted, save the bright light in the large guest office that distinguished visiting professors occupied.  Plenty of privacy, Daphne grinned.  It was too perfect.

A knock at the door, and the British-born professor was there…in his lab coat.  Very distinguished, she smiled, and said "Hello Dr. Hyde-White, I hope I'm not too late this evening."

"No, only a minute or so…but I'm glad to see you here," he smiled.  "We're going to have a busy night.  Your friend Velma is sure to be jealous."

"I just can't wait, professor," she said in a girly voice, sounding fairly naïve.  "It sounds….so exciting!"

"Great," she smiled under his mustache.  "I've got hundreds of items from my last visit to Egypt , and they're all out of order.  I need help in classifying each object, from which Pharaoh was ruler at the time to which location it was found in for my big conference paper next week.

"Oh…" she said faintly, her hopes for a romantic evening dashed to smithereens on the rocks of….schoolwork.  And it would be a night of plenty boring stuff, at that.

"Don't worry, young lady," he responded, seeing her obvious look of disappointment.  "I have a special treat in mind."

"Hmmm??" she hummed.  Maybe tonight wouldn't be a total loss.

"Well, I'm adding your name to the conference paper as a research assistant."

Daphne winced when she envisioned how Velma would cackle with laughter at learning what was going to happen that night.  The bespectacled roommate would never let her live it down.  

"There's no need to do that….just keep me busy with this work all night," the redhead managed, doing everything in her power to hide her displeasure.  

Hyde-White looked slightly puzzled.  Sure the research would be relatively mundane.  But unlike Miss Dinkley, it would be Miss Blake who would get the special publishing opportunity!  Why didn't she seem happier?

I'd rather work all night at this and have my roommate seethe with jealousy as she unsuccessfully waits for my return than have her find out the truth that I stayed up all night with musty objects in a stuffy museum, Daphne sadly mused.