Golden Throat

by James P. Alsphert

  “Yeah, babe, I know…I’ll be dead a few thousand years before your turn rolls around again, right?”

  She clung to me. “Daiya Guang says love is timeless…and that it always recognizes who it embraced, combined with, adored…though many thousands of years may pass.”

  “And who’s this Daiya Guang?”

  “My mentor and teacher. Each Red Dragon apprentice must be schooled many thousands of years until she is ready.”

  “I see. Do you understand how nuts all this sounds? I dwell in a practical everyday world where lifetimes are measured in so many thousands of days. And then…phht!...you’re gone! A meat wagon picks up what’s left and the remains get buried or cremated. It’s anyone’s guess what happens to the part that wasn’t physical. Soul? Spirit? Cosmic Consciousness? Believe me, babe, I’ve heard ‘em all.”

  “But what about the Cave of the Seven Truths, our wonderful tantric exchange, the magic experienced that day? Can you discount that?”

  “No, but I can’t explain it, either. It’d put me into overload if I tried.”

  She kissed my back and shoulders. “All I know is that I am in love with you tonight and tomorrow, and the next day—and I will miss you too much for me to bear it!” she cried. “With the Tone of Creation in place, my work is finished now and I will soon be called back…back into the lotus pod, back into the lake.”

  “And what happens to our daughter?”

  “She will…she will…I don’t know…I was selfish, wasn’t I? I just assumed she would be in my jurisdictional dimension at the Cave of the Seven Truths until the lotus returns…”

  “For fourteen-thousand years? That’s a hell of a long wait. Didn’t you say something about a first immortal woman in constant human form?”

  “I must consult Daiyu Guang. She will know…Oh, Cable—what if my selfishness doomed her to a life—a life of—confusion?” I held her in my arms and lowered her back down onto the bed.

  “Well, let’s not worry about it tonight.” A thousand feelings went through me, but I was exhausted and eventually the goddess and the gumshoe allowed all thoughts to perish, and we drifted off to sleep, a deep contentment upon our faces.

  Sometime during the wee hours of the morning Lei-tao began to convulse and vomit. I staggered to the bathroom with her and she threw up red and green liquid until the toilet bowl looked like a gruesome version of Christmas morning. Then she informed me she had to go back to her dimensional home at the Cave of the Seven Truths and get Toggth to make her up a special potion to cure her. I helped her dress and she was so weak that the best she could do was let me hold her in my arms. As I was doing so, her body faded from within my embrace and all that was left was the slight scent of her on my chest where her cheek had been moments before.

  Chapter 18

  THE DEVIL WEARS A DRESS

  It was September 1, 1929, and the rent was due. I made my way back to my office feeling guilty as hell. Why had I let Lei-tao talk me into this strangest of seductions? If ever a guy proved he was ruled by his balls, it was me, a primitive male creature addicted to the feeling of that exciting hunt and chase until finally the quarry is cornered and that erect appendage between his legs merges victorious and the woman’s moans and sighs of pleasure become the reward for all his trouble. But this time, I feared, it came with a terrible price. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  Honey had come after work to see me and left a note under my door. She said she kind of wanted to see her future husband a lot more and that Nick Mortenson with the Columbia Record Company was prepared to sign her after her Brunswick contract expired in January, 1930. This was good timing, as there was rumor that Brunswick was going to be sold to Warner Brothers, moving their headquarters to New York and possibly a renewed contract with them would no longer be honored. Columbia Records, on the other hand, just lost their main rival in Edison and was looking to expand. I was happy for her. Honey was a woman punching her way successfully through a man’s world, doing what she loved best. That was to be envied. If we were lucky, some of us found a niche we sort of fit into in this life—in my case, it seemed it was to graduate from policeman to private investigator—barely a step up, really, from the everyday grind found in the force.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Honey’s number. “Hello?”

  “Yeah, doll, it’s me.”

  “You were out last night when I came by. I hope it was business, Cable. I’m you’re almost-wife, remember me?”

  “It was business, babe, sort of. I mean I had to go to a client who was in danger and she couldn’t come here to the office.”

  “Oh? And was she comely and alluring?”

  “Yep. She came to the door in a white see-through negligee and not much else. It’s hard to explain, but earlier that same day while I was walking in Bronson Park—”

  “—why don’t you ever walk with me in Bronson Park? I’m off during the daylight hours, you know.”

  “Well, the Santa Ana’s were blowing and I had a very disturbing phone call earlier. I needed to clear the air by myself. You can understand that, doll, can’t you?”

  “I don’t know what I understand—or believe—anymore, Cable. So who was the new client—some bimbo, I suppose, who was instantly attracted to the mystique of a private dick—every pun intended.”

  “Very funny. Actually, remember the Chinese Red Dragon Lady from San Francisco I got sort of involved with?”

  “She’s here in town?”

  “Was…here in town. She had to go back late last night.”

  “After you screwed her, Cable?”

  “Well, not exactly—if you’ll recall I told you she was sort of this other dimensional creature and we had tantric sex—”

  “—Cable, if you’re going into that crap again, count me out. Now, look, buster. I’m your fiancée, right? If you’re screwing around before we get married, what will you be doing after we’re married?”

  “I’m just tying up loose ends, Honey. You know, it’s been a pretty good chunk of my life this momentum of babes through the years and the old dog’s trying to learn new tricks and all. I’m sure you realize putting the brakes on isn’t all that easy.”

  “Well, it better become a lot easier in less than four months, my love. You’re just lucky I’m not the jealous type. Besides, I love you, you incorrigible playboy. And you need to toe the mark with me. What if I went around fucking all the guys that hit on me in the club?”

  “I’d be pretty pissed. Might even call the whole thing off…”

  “So I rest my case, Cable. Now, will you come over tonight so you can take it out of your pants for me for a change? If it’s clean, that is—and not tainted with some other woman. You do know a girl can feel those things.”

  “She can?”

  “Yep. So…what time?”

  “I’ll be there when you get home from work—before midnight, anyway. Okay?”

  “Cable….I love you…truly…truly I love you and want you. Don’t run out on us. We’ve got a beautiful thing going, let’s not ruin it.”

  “I’m sorry, babe. Yeah, I’ll be better at it, I promise. I mean, we have been doing really well lately, right?”

  “Yes. Let’s build something together, my darling. See you tonight when I get home from the club.” I hung up, feeling like a cad.

  Just then I heard a terrible explosion coming from the street below. I ran to the window. A car had blown up where it stood at the curb. Women screamed and men rushed toward the little Model-T to save the occupants. But it was too late. The intense heat consumed the interior of the car in no time and any passengers would be sizzle-roasted in seconds. Finally a fire truck came and it took them two hours to extinguish the hot metal remains and another half-hour for a tow truck to haul it away. What a lousy event, I thought, just outside my office window. I was exhausted from the night’s adventures with Lei-tao and thought I’d take a catnap.

  Suddenly the front office door o
pened and in walked someone I had hoped I would never lay eyes on again. Nazar Ravna, immaculately dressed as usual, entered. “Well, I see you’ve come up in the world, Cable Denning, Private Investigator.” he said, with a sardonic tone just under the pretended pleasantness. “I don’t blame you. The police force is an abominable place to work, isn’t it?” Then he wandered over to the window behind my desk and looked down at the street. “It’s a good thing you don’t own an automobile. They seem to have a tendency to just…poof!…explode these days.” He laughed a terrible laugh. “Someone got their wires crossed—or…did someone cross the wires?—regardless, someone may have thought that was you in the car that went up in flames a few moments ago. But I see they missed their mark. Perhaps…it was only…to…warn you…fire a volley across your bow…if you know what I mean…”

  “So that was you, was it? And who was the poor bloke you roasted to a crisp?”

  He looked at his manicured fingernails. “Who knows? Who cares?”

  “I can’t say I’m happy to see you, Ravna. In fact, I was beginning to feel like I had a life again, business is good, my pending marriage to—”

  “—pending…I like that word, it’s so…so tentative…as if we hang suspended day to day on a string…uncertain…fearful of that next unknown moment. Ah…so much of this short little life is…is pending, don’t you think?” He came and sat opposite me at my desk. “May I?”

  “I hope you’re not expecting me to take you out to lunch. I’m kind of short on funds these days.”

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t expect that. Our last, how shall we say, ‘altercation’ involved you pushing me down a flight of stairs on top of my men. I may appear pleasant at the moment, but I am not a forgiving man, Denning."

  “Let’s get the record straight, Ravna. I didn’t push you down those stairs. Something or someone else did. But, I sure wish I had, after receiving that hefty punch you threw.”

  “Oh, that was only a down payment, Denning. Do you recall my last words to you that day?”

  “I’m not in the mood for chatting or listening to your threats, Mister. Just get on with what you came for and be done with it—and leave like you came in—through that door over there.”

  “Testy….you’re still so testy, Denning.” He took a deep breath. “Well…now that you force my hand…you see, a strange thing occurred in our vaults at Oculus headquarters. You do remember the golden capsule that caused us so much difficulty? And I finally wrested it from you not all that long ago. It must have a mind of its own, Denning, because it has—just—simply disappeared! And I was wondering if you had any knowledge of its whereabouts?”

  “Look, Ravna, enough people have died defending or trying to obtain your precious golden capsule. Maybe it does have a mind of its own, I don’t know, maybe it just decided it didn’t like you and your ‘Order’ and wanted to go home. Ever think of that?”

  “How quaint. I like that. In your uneducated clumsiness, you do have a way with words that warm the heart.” He cracked his knuckles. “I was thinking…oh…perhaps of more nefarious or deceitful things. Like perhaps the capsule you transferred to me that day was not—uh, the real thing, shall we say?” He got up and walked around the room, running a finger over my furniture. “You need someone to come in and dust, Denning. Cleanliness is next to—oh, well, you know….” He came back and stood over me. “What I’m suggesting is that…perhaps…someone—perhaps not even you—contrived a way to fashion a copy of the God of Our Fathers. If that is the case, then we were both hoodwinked. If, on the other hand, you knew that what you handed off to me that day was not, shall we say, the genuine article, then, my most unfortunate man, there will most certainly be consequences. Would that not be fair to expect if indeed you betrayed my trust in you?”

  “You’re trying to skin the wrong cat, Ravna.”

  “Am I? We find it curious to discover that you and that Chinese Red Dragon Lady have rendezvoused subsequent to your receiving the Fen de Fuqin, as she calls it. How might you explain that?”

  “We happen to like each other. I don’t sniff around your personal life, so leave mine alone. And I’d appreciate your leaving just about now. I never told you this, but you bore me. You know why? Because you’re layered with deceit yourself—not to mention ulterior motives, criminal intent and that certain careless disregard for human life, which I detest. Ever since that day you killed Anne Banning and dumped her body in my apartment with Adora watching—”

  “—oh, your little Mexican whore. Yes, she’s actually quite attractive and quite pleasing under the covers, I’m sure. You wouldn’t want to lose her now, would you? It could be arranged…so easily…along with her petite little sister and that fine upstanding mother of theirs.”

  I was so livid toward this walking piece of crap I could have strangled or shot him on the spot. “You know, you treacherous son-of-a-bitch, we’ve been through this before—remember San Francisco? You touch them, Ravna, and I’ll save the Order a lot of trouble by killing you with my bare hands here and now.” I was trembling. I went to my desk and took out my bottle of gin and poured a big one. Then I lit up one of my Lucky Strikes. He stood there watching me. I took out my .38 and pointed it at him. “So what’s it gonna be?”

  He observed me quietly, always composed, always focused. “You smoke and drink to hide your fears, you know. Your womanizing ways are another, shall we say, ‘escape hatch’ of avoidance for your inferior and tortured personality. You play a child’s game, Denning. Shooting me will avail you nothing. It wouldn’t even be my order for the Moreno women to be targeted for murder. It comes from higher up. And even we are not certain it is they who hover, ready to pounce. We are not alone in the quest for our now missing precious capsule. When certain powers are angered, no telling where they may retaliate. Perhaps your fiancée, the most attractive Honey Combes will be next. Or the fetching little country girl you seduced who pants around you like a bitch in heat. Someone has to pay…and no one is certain who it might be. If we could find her, we’d even kill that Chinese slut who’s been holding out on us. It all leads to her, you know. But if she’s one of those shape-changing creatures, it makes it difficult to round her up, let alone dispatch her. We don’t have access to those dimensions, do you? I’ve always wondered where you went with her when you were making me wait while you played footsy in Chinatown last year.”

  I sat there uneasy as hell in my chair, as if I was being grilled by some monstrous thing that had no connection with human feelings. But I had nowhere to escape to. And somehow I had to fight back, I couldn’t let monsters like Ravna get away with the attitude that he and his kind were all-superior and the rest of the world inferior underlings fated to servitude and stupidity. “You know, Ravna, you really don’t know how to be nice, now, do you? If you dug into that empty void that’s your heart, maybe you’d realize some things can be won with kindness—so instead of us killing each other, why don’t you just bow quietly and leave here—and never come back. It’s definite, you’re a piece of shit without a conscience, I don’t like you—and that makes it official in my book. You’re like the bad penny that always shows up just when it isn’t welcome—and you, Nazar Ravna, are never welcome.”

  He smiled a wry smile. “Denning, your wit and humor are always disarming. Actually, I do like that.” Then he grew grim. “You do recall I vowed I’d kill you somehow, someday after I was pushed down the stairs that day? Well, for the moment, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. I’ll make a deal with you. You come up with the real God of Our Fathers and I promise not a hair will be touched on the head of anyone you may consider off limits to us.”

  I thought for a minute. What if he wasn’t bluffing? What if he really knew the phony was a phony, as Toggth suggested might happen? “How do you know the capsule I handed to you wasn’t the genuine article?”

  “Simple. First of all the symbols and the mathematics didn’t quite ‘jibe’ under laboratory tests. Something was, how do I say it
—absent. Secondly, the golden microfilm, which was supposed to duplicate the capsule’s symbolic key-code was missing from the capsule’s interior. A fatal omission, Denning—which is why you are my number one suspect, along with your little invisible shape-changing pals.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, tongue in my cheek. “How do you know someone in your organization didn’t do a switcheroo on you?” Just then, with the worst possible timing, in walked Adora. She glanced and half-smiled at me, and then looked intensely at Nazar Ravna. I saw she recognized him immediately and her voice trembled. “Oh, lo siento, Cable. I was coming by to—see—”

  “—Adora!” I called from across the room, getting up from my chair. “I think we’d better talk another time. I’ll call you later.”

  “No, no! I insist,” Ravna interjected, raising his voice. “This is a propitious occasion. Your little señorita should hear what I have to say.” He looked at the luscious and beautiful Adora. “Young woman, you might as well know—perhaps you can help convince your hard-headed lover here—that his life hangs in the balance, depending on how he answers my questions this very day. May I ask, what do you know about the God of Our Fathers?”

  She looked at me wide-eyed and then back to Ravna. “Dios de nuestros Padres? I never hear, Señor. I know nothing of such a one.”

  “She’s on the level, Ravna. I’ve purposely kept her in the dark--from knowing anything—just so when occasions like this popped up she couldn’t figure into your equation.”

  Ravna studied my face, then Adora’s. “Somehow, this I believe is true.” He glowered at Adora. “So, young wetback, on your way. And I warn you, never breathe a word of seeing me in here to anyone—comprendes? Or your clandestine lover boy here will end up with flowers on his chest at the local mortuary.”