The Complete Adversary Cycle: The Keep, the Tomb, the Touch, Reborn, Reprisal, Nightworld (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack)

by F. Paul Wilson

  “You won’t find her here.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever find her. I don’t think anyone will.”

  The note of finality in his voice shocked Gia. “W-what do you know?”

  “Just a feeling,” he said, averting his eyes as if embarrassed to admit to acting on feelings. “Just as I’ve had this other feeling all morning that I should be here today.”

  “That’s all you’re going on—feelings?”

  “Humor me, Gia” he said with an edge on his voice she had never heard before. “All right? Humor me.”

  Gia was about to press him for a more specific answer when Vicky came running in. Vicky missed Grace and Nellie but Gia had kept her daughter’s spirits up by telling her that Nellie had gone to find Grace. Jack picked her up and swung her to his hip, but his responses to her chatter consisted mainly of noncommittal grunts. Gia could not remember ever seeing him so preoccupied. He seemed worried, almost unsure of himself. That upset her the most. Jack was always a rock of self-assurance. Something was terribly wrong here and he wasn’t telling her about it.

  The three of them trailed into the kitchen, where Eunice was preparing lunch. Jack slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and stared morosely into space. Vicky apparently noticed that he wasn’t responding to her in his usual manner so she went out to the backyard to her playhouse. Gia sat across from him, watching him, dying to know what he was thinking but unable to ask with Eunice there.

  Vicky came running in from the back with an orange in her hand. Gia idly wondered where she had got it. She thought they had run out of oranges.

  “Do the orange mouth! Do the orange mouth!”

  Jack straightened up and put on a smile that wouldn’t have fooled a blind man.

  “Okay, Vicks. The orange mouth. Just for you.”

  He glanced at Gia and made a sawing motion with his hand. Gia got up and found him a knife. When she returned to the table, he was shaking his hand as if it were wet.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “This thing’s leaking. Must be a real juicy one.” He sliced the orange in half. Before quartering it, he rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek. Suddenly he was on his feet, his chair tipping over backwards behind him. His face was putty white as he held his fingers under his nose and sniffed.

  “No!” he cried as Vicky reached for one of the orange halves. He grabbed her hand and roughly pushed it away. “Don’t touch it!”

  “Jack! What’s wrong with you?” Gia was furious at him for treating Vicky that way. And poor Vicky stood there staring at him with her lower lip trembling.

  But Jack was oblivious to both of them. He was holding the orange halves up to his nose, inspecting them, sniffing at them like a dog. His face grew steadily whiter.

  “Oh, God!” he said, looking as if he was about to be sick. “Oh, my God!”

  As he stepped around the table, Gia pulled Vicky out of his way and clutched her against her. His eyes were wild. Three long strides took him to the kitchen garbage can. He threw the orange in it, then pulled the Hefty bag out, twirled it, and twisted the attached tie around the neck. He dropped the bag on the floor and came back to kneel before Vicky. He gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

  “Where’d you get that orange, Vicky?”

  Gia noted the “Vicky” immediately. Jack never called her by that name. She was always “Vicks” to him.

  “In… in my playhouse.”

  Jack jumped up and began pacing around the kitchen, frantically running the fingers of both hands through his hair. Finally he seemed to come to a decision:

  “All right—we’re getting out of here.”

  Gia was on her feet. “What are you—?”

  “Out! All of us! And no one eat any thing! Not a thing! That goes for you, too, Eunice!”

  Eunice puffed herself up. “I beg your pardon?”

  Jack got behind her and firmly guided her toward the door. He was not rough with her but there was no hint of playfulness about him. He came over to Gia and pulled Vicky away from her.

  “Get your toys together. You and your mommy are going on a little trip.”

  Jack’s sense of urgency was contagious. Without a backward glance at her mother, Vicky ran outside.

  Gia shouted angrily: “Jack, you can’t do this! You can’t come in here and start acting like a fire marshall. You’ve no right!”

  “Listen to me!” he said in a low voice as he grasped her left biceps in a grip that bordered on pain. “Do you want Vicky to end up like Grace and Nellie? Gone without a trace?”

  Gia tried to speak but no words came out. She felt as if her heart had stopped. Vicky gone? No—!

  “I didn’t think so,” Jack said. “If we’re here tonight, that might happen.”

  Gia still couldn’t speak. The horror of the thought was a hand clutching at her throat.

  “Go!” he said, pushing her toward the front of the house. “Pack up and we’ll get out of here.”

  Gia stumbled away from him. It was not so much what Jack said, but what she had seen in his eyes… something she had never seen nor ever expected to see: fear.

  Jack afraid—it was almost inconceivable. Yet he was; she was sure of it. And if Jack was afraid, what should she be?

  Terrified, she ran upstairs to pack her things.

  4

  Alone in the kitchen, Jack sniffed his fingers again. At first he had thought he was hallucinating, but then he had found the needle puncture in the orange skin. There could be no doubt—rakoshi elixir. Even now he wanted to retch. Someone—Someone? Kusum!—had left a doctored orange for Vicky.

  Kusum wanted Vicky for his monsters!

  The worst part was realizing that Grace and Nellie had not been accidental victims. There was purpose here. The two old women had been intended targets. And Vicky was next!

  Why? In God’s name, why! Was it this house? Did he want to kill everyone who lived here? He had Grace and Nellie already, but why Vicky next? Why not Eunice or Gia? It didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did and his brain was too rattled right now to see the pattern.

  Vicky came up the back steps and hurried through the kitchen carrying something that looked like a big plastic grape. She walked by with her chin out and her nose in the air, without even once glancing Jack’s way.

  She’s mad at me.

  To her mind she had ample reason to be upset with him. After all, he had frightened her and everyone else in the house. But that could not be helped. He could not remember a shock like the one that had blasted through him when he recognized the odor on his hands. Orange juice, yes, but tainted by the unmistakable herbal smell of rakoshi elixir.

  Fear trickled down his chest wall and into his abdomen.

  Not my Vicky. Never my Vicky!

  He walked over to the sink and looked out the window as he washed the smell off his hands. The house around him, the playhouse out there, the yard, the whole neighborhood had become tainted, sinister.

  But where to go? He couldn’t let Gia and Vicky go back to their own apartment. If Kusum knew of Vicky’s passion for oranges, surely he knew her address. And Jack’s place was definitely out. On impulse he called Isher Sports.

  “Abe? I need help.”

  “So what else is new?” came the lighthearted reply.

  “This is serious, Abe. It’s Gia and her little girl. I’ve got to find them a safe place to stay. Somewhere not connected with me.”

  The banter was suddenly gone from Abe’s voice. “Hotel no good?”

  “As a last resort it’ll do, but I’d feel better in a private place.”

  “My daughter’s apartment is empty until the end of the month. She’s on sabbatical in Europe for the summer.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Queens. On the border of Astoria and Long Island City.”

  Jack glanced out the kitchen window to the jumble of buildings directly across the East River. For the first time since cutting the orange open, he felt he had a chance of co
ntrolling the situation. The sick dread that weighed so relentlessly upon him lifted a little.

  “Perfect! Where’s the key?”

  “In my pocket.”

  “I’ll be right over to get it.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Eunice came in as he hung up. “You really have no right to send us all on our way,” she said sternly. “But if I must go, at least let me clean up the kitchen.”

  “I’ll clean it up,” Jack said, blocking her way as she reached for the sponge in the sink. She turned and picked up the Hefty bag that contained the tainted orange. Jack gently pulled it from her grasp. “I’ll take care of that, too.”

  “Promise?” she said, eyeing him with unconcealed suspicion. “I wouldn’t want the two ladies of the house coming back and finding a mess.”

  “They won’t find a mess here,” Jack told her, feeling sorry for this loyal little woman who had no idea that her employers were dead. “I promise you.”

  Gia came down the stairs as Jack ushered Eunice out the front door. Gia seemed to have composed herself since he had chased her upstairs.

  “I want to know what all this means,” she said after Eunice was gone. “Vicky’s upstairs. You tell me what’s going on here before she comes down.”

  Jack searched for something to say. He could not tell her the truth—she’d lose all confidence in his sanity. She might even call the nut patrol to take him down to pillow city in Bellevue. He began to improvise, mixing truth and fiction, hoping he made sense.

  “I think Grace and Nellie were abducted.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Gia said, but her voice did not carry much conviction.

  “I wish it were.”

  “But there was no sign of a break-in or a struggle—”

  “I don’t know how it was done but I’m sure the liquid I found in Grace’s bathroom is a link.” He paused for effect. “Some of it was in that orange Vicky brought in to me.”

  Gia’s hand clutched his arm. “The one you threw away?”

  Jack nodded. “And I bet if we had the time we could find something of Nellie’s that’s laced with the stuff, something she ate.”

  “I can’t think of anything… “Her voice trailed off, then rose again. “What about the chocolates?” Gia grabbed his arm and dragged him to the parlor. “They’re in here. They came last week.”

  Jack went to the candy bowl on the table beside the recliner where they had spent Sunday night. He took a chocolate off the top and inspected it. No sign of a needle hole or tampering. He broke it open and held it up to his nose… and there it was: the odor. Rakoshi elixir. He held it out to Gia.

  “Here. Take a whiff. I don’t know if you remember what Grace’s laxative smelled like, but it’s the same stuff.” He led her to the kitchen where he opened the garbage bag and took out Vicky’s orange. “Compare.”

  Gia sniffed them both, then looked up at him. Fear was growing in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack lied as he took the candy and orange from her and threw them both into the bag. Then he brought the dish from the parlor and dumped the rest of the chocolates.

  “But it’s got to do something!” Gia said, persistent as always.

  So that Gia couldn’t see his eyes as he spoke, Jack made a show of concentrating on twisting the tie around the neck of the bag as tightly as he could.

  “Maybe it has some sedative properties that keeps people quiet while they’re being carried off. “

  Gia stared at him, a mystified look on her face. “This is crazy! Who would want to—?”

  “That’s my next question: Where’d she get the candy?”

  “From England.” Gia’s face blanched. “Oh, no! From Richard!”

  “Your ex?”

  “He sent them from London.”

  With his mind working furiously, Jack took the garbage bag outside and dumped it in a can in the narrow alley alongside the house.

  Richard Westphalen? Where the hell did he fit in? But hadn’t Kusum mentioned that he had been in London last year? And now Gia says her ex-husband sent those chocolates from London. It all fit but it made no sense. What possible link could he have to Kusum? Certainly not financial. Kusum hadn’t struck Jack as a man to whom money meant much.

  This was making less and less sense every minute.

  “Could your ex be behind this?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen. “Could he be thinking he’s going to inherit something if Grace and Nellie disappear?”

  “I wouldn’t put much past Richard,” Gia said, “but I can’t see him getting involved in a serious crime. Besides, I happen to know that he’s not going to inherit a thing from Nellie.”

  “But does he know that?”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced around and appeared to shiver. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

  “Soon as you’re ready.”

  Gia went upstairs to get Vicky. Before long, mother and daughter were standing in the foyer, Vicky with a little suitcase in one hand and her plastic grape carrying case in the other.

  “What’s in there?” Jack asked, pointing to the grape.

  Vicky held it out of his reach behind her back. “Just my Ms. Jelliroll doll.”

  “I should have known.” At least she’s talking to me.

  “Can we go now?” Gia said. She had been transformed from a reluctant evictee to someone anxious to be as far away from this house as possible. He was glad for that.

  Jack took the large suitcase and led the two of them up to Sutton Place where he hailed a cab and gave the address of Isher Sports.

  “I want to get home,” Gia said. She was in the middle, Vicky on her left and Jack on her right. “That’s in your neighborhood.”

  “You can’t go home,” he told her. As she opened her mouth to protest he added: “You can’t go to my place, either.”

  “Then where?”

  “I’ve found a place in Queens.”

  “Queens? I don’t want to—”

  “No one’ll find you in a million years. Just hang out there for a couple of days until I see if I can put a stop to this.”

  “I feel like a criminal.” Gia put an arm around Vicky and hugged her close.

  Jack wanted to hug both of them and tell them they’d be all right, that he’d see to it that nothing ever hurt them. But it would be awkward here in the back seat of a cab, and after his outburst this morning with the orange, he wasn’t sure how they’d react.

  The cab pulled up in front of Abe’s store. Jack ran in and found him at his usual station reading his usual science fiction novel. There was mustard on his tie; poppy seeds peppered his ample shirt front.

  “The key’s on the counter and so’s the address,” he said, glancing over his reading glasses without moving from his seat. “This won’t be messy, I hope. Already my relationship with Sarah is barely civil.”

  Jack pocketed the key but kept the address in hand.

  “If I know Gia, she’ll leave the place spotless.”

  “If I know my daughter, Gia will have her work cut out for her.” He stared at Jack. “I suppose you have some running around to do tonight?”

  Jack nodded. “A lot.”

  “And I suppose you want I should come over and babysit the two ladies while you’re out of the apartment? Don’t even ask,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’ll do it.”

  “I owe you one, Abe,” Jack said.

  “I’ll add it to the list,” he replied with a deprecating wave of his hand.

  “Do that.”

  Back in the cab, Jack gave the driver the address of Abe’s daughter’s apartment. “Take the Midtown Tunnel,” he said.

  “The bridge is better for where you’re going,” the cabbie said.

  “Take the tunnel,” Jack told him. “And go through the park.”

  “It’s quicker around.”

  “The park. Enter at Seventy-second and head downtown.”

  The cabbie shrugged. “You’re paying for it.
”

  They drove over to Central Park West, then turned into the park. Jack stayed twisted around in his seat the whole way, tensely watching through the back window for any car or cab that followed them. He had insisted on taking the route through the park because it was narrow and winding, curving through the trees and beneath the overpasses. Anyone tailing would want to stay close for fear of losing them.

  There was no one following. Jack was sure of that by the time they reached Columbus Circle, but he kept his eyes fixed out the rear window until they reached the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

  As they slid into that tiled fluorescent gullet, Jack faced front and allowed himself to unwind. The East River was above them, Manhattan was rapidly falling behind. Soon he’d have Gia and Vicky lost in the mammoth beehive of apartments called Queens. He was putting the whole island of Manhattan between Kusum and his intended victims. Kusum would never find them. With that worry behind him, Jack would be free to concentrate his efforts on finding a way to deal with the crazy Indian.

  Right now, however, he had to mend his relationship with Vicky, who was sitting on the far side of her mother with her big plastic grape sitting in her lap. He began by leaning around Gia and making the kind of faces mothers always tell their children not to make because you never know when your face’ll get stuck that way.

  Vicky tried to ignore him but soon was laughing and crossing her eyes and making faces, too.

  “Stop that, Vicky!” Gia said. “Your face could get stuck that way!”

  5

  Vicky was glad Jack was acting like his old self. He had frightened her this morning with his yelling and grabbing her orange and throwing it away. That had been mean. He had never done anything like that before. Not only had it frightened her, but her feelings had been hurt. She had got over being scared right away, but her feelings had remained hurt until now. Silly Jack. He was making her laugh. He just must have been grouchy this morning.

  Vicky shifted her Ms. Jelliroll Carry Case on her lap. There was room in it for the doll and extra things like doll clothes.

  Vicky had something extra in there now. Something special. She hadn’t told Jack or Mommy that she had found two oranges in the playhouse. Jack had thrown the first away. But the second was in her carry case, safely hidden beneath the doll clothes. She was saving that for later and not telling anybody. That was only right. It was her orange. She had found it, and she wasn’t going to let anybody throw it away.