The Girl in the Glass (18 page)

"Yes, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep," she said. "Everything is too strange."

"You'll be safe here," I said, pushing open the door to my room. "No one knows where you are." She swept the strands of hair that had come loose from her braid out of her eyes and nodded. I realized that she had nothing to wear to bed, so I went to my closet and took out one of my undershirts and my first pair of swami trousers, which I'd recently outgrown. She thanked me and laid the clothes on the end of the bed. As I turned to go, she put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. We kissed, briefly.

"Come see me later," she said.

"If I can," I said.

"Promise," she said.

I nodded and closed the door behind me as I left.

Antony, Morgan, and Schell were in the Bugatorium, sitting around the coffee table. In the lighted room, it was easy to now see the bruises on the big man's neck and a welt on his left cheek. Schell must have been feeling badly for him, since Antony, in addition to drinking whiskey from a beer glass filled to the brim, was also smoking a cigarette. He had his jacket off and his shirt open halfway. Schell was holding a glass of wine, and Morgan had a teacup on a saucer in front of her. They'd been discussing something when I came in, and as soon as they saw me enter, the conversation died. The butterflies were in a turmoil that night, swirling and swarming, a frantic storm of movement that was a metaphor for what was going on behind my eyes. Schell waved me over.

"Diego, take a seat," he said.

I did, opposite him.

"We have to talk about Isabel. I'm afraid she's in quite a bad situation. I started to mention it in the car, but I wasn't exactly sure how to proceed, and I thought I'd run it by you first to see if there was something you could add or that I was missing. The main thing is, the police are going to want to know what happened to her."

My mind wasn't working too well, what with everything we'd been through. "Should we take her to them tomorrow?" I asked.

"I wouldn't," said Antony.

"If we take her in, that implicates us, which isn't good for any of us, because if they start digging, they're going to find that we were all working for Barnes," said Schell. "Honestly, if I thought it would help her, I might be persuaded to do that. But if she shows up, she's going to be a suspect. Now, I don't think the D.A. could possibly make a case that she did to those men what happened to them."

"She's not strong enough," said Antony.

"She's an illegal, though. And it wouldn't surprise me, if they can't come up with an answer that they might try to pin the rap for all three of tonight's murders on her. Possible or not, given the right circumstances, it might not matter whether she's strong enough."

I shook my head, barely able to take it all in.

"Even if they treat her as just a witness, when they're done with her, they'll deport her for sure. If she wants to stay, she's got to go underground for a while and leave the area. You see? No good solutions."

"What can I do?" I asked him.

"Well, you can start by explaining this all to her. After that, I guess it's up to her what she wants to do. I hate to say it, but I think her best bet is to go back to Mexico for a while, on her own. Does she have family there?"

"Her mother's dead," I said. "Her father's been sent back, but she doesn't know where."

"That's a bum deal," said Antony.

"I'll talk to her," I said. "Not tonight, though. She's too upset."

"Okay," said Schell. "She can stay here as long as she likes."

"Thanks," I said.

Morgan Shaw reached over and put her hand on my forearm. "Things will work out," she said, and I cringed, hoping she wasn't going to sing again.

Antony reached for a second cigarette, but Schell held up his hand and said, "My sympathies have been exhausted."

Antony laughed and put the pack away. He tilted his head back and drained off the sizable portion left in his glass. "Okay, Boss," he said, looking a little bleary but nearly back to his usual self. "I'm going to bed. I have to rest up. If I get another chance at that fucking…you know, that thing, I know exactly what I'm going to do."

"Run?" asked Schell.

"Oh, don't say that," said Morgan. "Henry was very brave." Antony shook his head. "I'm getting old, Tommy."

"Yeah, I know. We all are. It beats the alternative, though. Just ask Parks," said Schell.

"Have you ever been beaten in a fight before?" I asked.

"Who says I was beaten?" he asked, laughing. He stood up, weaving slightly. "Once when I was younger, I was in a bar in San Francisco. I was shooting my mouth off, being a real jerk. Anyway, I got in a fight and this little Chinese guy, no bigger than Miss Shaw, kicked the crap out of me. That was the last time until tonight."

"That's a good record," I said.

"No," he said. "Next time I meet this thing, I'm going to give him my secret punch. It'll stop his heart and he'll shit blood."

"In that order?" asked Schell.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The Stunner," Antony said.

"You're a stunner," said Schell. "Go get some rest. I'm glad you're in one piece." Antony smiled and bowed to us. As he moved toward the door, his bulk caused a disturbance in the atmosphere that rippled throughout the room, its current made evident by the motion of the insects. Once the door was closed, I got up from my seat and went to the couch where Antony had been sitting and lay down, propping my head on the end pillow next to a perching, closed pipevine. I exhaled, and the specimen beat its wings and was gone.

"Will we disturb you if we sit for a few more minutes?" asked Morgan. "I'm still too wide awake to turn in."

"No," I said. "I'm almost asleep." I closed my eyes. There was silence for a little while, and then she and Schell continued speaking in whispers about the events of the night.

I dozed off for a little while, no more than a few minutes it seemed. They were still talking, but in even more hushed tones now. When I opened my eyes a sliver, wanting to see but not wanting to interrupt them, I noticed that someone had turned off the lights. Morgan Shaw, glowing like a full moon in the autumn sky, lifted a wineglass from off the table, and I realized that at some point when I was out she'd switched over from tea. I lay there with my eyes closed, breathing as shallowly as possible so I wouldn't give myself away.

"You have a very nice voice," Schell said, "but I never expected a song at quite that moment."

"You mean, in the car?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I sing to calm myself."

"I liked both your voice and that song," said Schell.

"'Wrap your troubles in dreams,'" she said. "It's a nice idea, but somehow they have a way of unwrapping themselves and escaping."

"I've noticed," said Schell.

"So I have my songs, and you, Thomas Schell, have butterflies. I'd never have suspected it. Why?"

"It's a hobby," he said. "Keeps me off the street at night."

"Collecting stamps is a hobby," she said. "This is something much more."

"I'm fascinated by a good trick when I see it," he said "Sleight of hand with a deck, a magician's illusion, a con's scheme. The butterfly has the best trick in the world. They wrap their naked selves in a blanket, taking nothing with them, you can check if you'd like. They work alone and never leave that cocoon while they perform their magic. Time passes and as it does they transform themselves with only what they have, which as I've said is nothing but themselves. And when they break out, they have become something entirely different. A flying enchantment."

"And what have you learned from them?" she asked.

"Simplicity and subtlety make for the best con. A distraction should lead the mark's attention upward, either toward the sky or to some better vision of himself. Color signals danger. Try to appear to have as many eyes as possible."

"Very good," she said.

"Almost," said Schell. "There's one thing I haven't gotten yet, though, and it keeps me studying them. It's the one thing that's the heart of their art, and it still escapes me."

"What's that?" asked Morgan.

"Change," he said. "They change, but I can never move beyond myself."

"That's the bitch," she said. "It'll make you want to sing to yourself." I dozed again, and when I next woke, it was still dark, and they had left the Bugatorium. As quietly as possible, I got off the couch and moved across the room to the door. Down the hall I went on my toes, being careful not to bang into anything and give myself away. When I reached the kitchen, the light was still on, and I prayed Antony wasn't up, as he was sometimes, called from sleep by the need for a smoke. Luckily his seat was empty. Finally, I reached the door to my room, opened it slowly, and when there was just enough room, slipped into the darkness, closing it behind me.

"Who's there?" Isabel whispered.

"It's me," I said.

"I knew you would come back," she said.

"Haven't you slept at all?"

"A little, but the dreams keep waking me." I could make out her silhouette sitting up in the bed. She threw back the edge of the covers and patted the spot next to her, as she had on the boulder when we met by the sound. I climbed into bed, and she put the cover up over my shoulder. Then we settled back, our arms around each other. I felt her pressing against me. My hand moved down her side to rest upon her hip. We lay like that for a long time, and though I meant to kiss her, instead I fell into a deep sleep.

THE BULLET'S IN THE CHAMBER

T
he next morning I was the last in the house to rise. Apparently, Isabel had gotten up early, dressed, and gone to the kitchen to make eggs, bacon, and coffee for everyone. When I finally pulled myself together and went out to join the others, they were all nearly done eating. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down. The first two things I noticed were Isabel's smile and Schell's stern countenance. He gave me an icy stare but said nothing. It was clear to me that he had discovered I had not spent the entire night on the couch in the Bugatorium and was not happy about it. I knew, though, that his sense of decorum would prevent him from making a scene over it. There would most definitely be a lecture coming later on. At first, I was embarrassed by his look and wouldn't make eye contact with him. This only lasted for a short time and was circumvented by my seeing Isabel talking and laughing with the others. I knew I was in love, and I wasn't going to deny it. Schell will have to accept it, I thought to myself. After that, I became defiant, and when he looked at me, I stared back and smiled.

Antony had, as usual, risen early and gone to get the newspaper. There, just as we found the news about the discovery of Charlotte Barnes, we found the headlines announcing the shocking murders of Parks and his staff.

"I guess we're on the low profile here for even longer now," said Antony. "It's gonna get cozy."

"You're right. We have to continue to lie low for a while. Diego and I are going out this evening," said Schell. "It's probably not a good idea, but I need more information."

"Where?" asked Antony.

"We're going to see the coroner," said Schell.

"You going G-man?" asked Antony.

Schell nodded.

"What about me?"

"I want you to stay here and rest up," said Schell. "Practice the Stunner." To my surprise, Antony agreed to stay put. He still must have been hurting from the previous night.

"How'd you find out about the coroner?" asked the big man.

"I called Katie and got an address," said Schell.

"I'm surprised she didn't charge you for it."

"Who says she didn't?" asked Schell.

"Wait a second," said Morgan, "I need clothes. I'm sure this young lady needs a few things also. I know you can't stop at the Parks place for her things, but I have plenty of clothes in those boxes back at my cabin. How about stopping there tonight and picking some of them up for us, seeing as we'll be here for a week or more?"

Schell thought for a moment, considering her request, and then shook his head. "I don't want to take the chance. I'll risk shaking down the coroner for some information, but I don't want to run into whoever has been casing your place. One of us will have to go shopping for you," said Schell. That ended the conversation, and soon after we left the table. The issue of stopping or not at the cabin was far from decided, though, as I observed Morgan Shaw go to work on Schell. Isabel and I were sitting in the living room, but we could hear them talking in the kitchen as they washed and dried the dishes together.

"I see some woods out there, Thomas. I think you should take me out for a walk and show me your property."

"I never go out there," said Schell.

"Never? It's a beautiful day. I'd like to see your place. We wouldn't be seen from the road. This house seems very secluded."

"I was going to do some work with the butterflies," said Schell.

"Forget the butterflies for a while," she said. "I'm your guest. I'll go crazy if I have to stay indoors the entire time I'm here."

There was no response from Schell.

"Is there a view of the sound through those woods?" she asked.

"I think so," he said. "I've never been back there. Diego could tell you."

"Diego's busy," she said. "I'd like you to take me."

I could picture Schell in the kitchen, staring into the dishwater. He said nothing we could hear, but a few moments later, Morgan started humming a tune, which turned into a song. The next thing I knew, the water stopped running and the back door opened and closed. I got up and went to the kitchen window and watched as Schell and Morgan Shaw headed out across the grass toward the path that led through the trees.

While I stood there, Antony came through the kitchen and stopped to glance out the window to see what I was looking at.

"Is that the boss?" he asked. "Taking a walk in the woods?"

"So to speak," I said.

"Between the two of them," he said, "it's hard to figure who's the mark and who's the con."

"She's got him," I said.

"Or is he letting her think she's getting him?" said Antony.