by Paul Neuhaus
Dennis nodded gently. “We do. Indulge me anyway.”
“Arsen Gasparyan. He was with me in the car into Riverside. He was driving.”
“And how did you know him?”
“‘Know’ is a strong word. We’d only just met. He was the one holding Tad Albright. In Glendale.”
“And why was he doing that?”
“Turns out he’d been having an affair with Helen Dankworth. You know that name, right?”
The policeman nodded.
“Patrick Dankworth got wind of it and stuck Helen in Destiny Base. With no chance of parole. Arsen was using Albright as a bargaining chip—with Albright’s cooperation. The only problem was Dankworth had called their bluff.”
“And that’s when they stormed—what’d you call it—Destiny Base?”
“That’s it in a nutshell. Although ’storm’ is probably also not the right word. Remember: Albright’s a big shot in the Aetheric Concordance. The plan was to waltz in—using Albright—and snatch Helen out of there.”
“Mmm,” Dennis said. “So, after you got past the gate, what was supposed to happen? You were gonna say, ‘Take us to Helen Dankworth and look the other way while we all fly the coop’?”
“It’s funny. I think I said words to that effect in the car.”
“Why’d you tag along?”
“I dunno, Denny. I’m still working on it. I guess ‘cause I had a stake. I have a debt I owe to Randall Dunphey. A debt I’ve done a half-assed job paying back.”
“And getting yourself killed was the way to square it?”
I shrugged and handed him back the photo of Arsen. “What else you got?”
He put the eight by ten on the bottom of his stack and handed me a piece of paper with the FBI logo at the top. I didn’t read it right away. I wanted to hear Dennis’ context first. “As you can imagine,” he said. “The Feds are involved now. Which means you and I have a problem.”
“The deal we struck…”
“Exactly. I gave you time to sniff after Tad Albright and now Tad Albright is missing. Again.”
“Along with Helen Dankworth and, Evelyn, Helen’s sister.”
“Hold up,” Hill replied. “We’re getting to that.”
“What’s this?” I said, lifting the FBI stationary so I could see it better.
“Now that they’re involved—because of, you know, all the kidnapping and whatnot—the Feds are sharing little drips and drabs with LAPD. One of the players in your little drama is on that sheet.”
The paper was a progress report dated about a month prior. The FBI had been looking at the goings on with the Aetheric Concordance before Dennis or I had come onto the scene. They’d been tailing one Evelyn Sallow. Next to her name was the phrase “true Concordance believer and probable field operative”. That threw me almost as much as seeing Arsen Gasparyan lying dead in a ditch. “What does this mean ‘true Concordance believer and probable field operative’?”
“Evelyn Sallow was with you in the car on the way out to Riverside?”
“That’s right. In fact, the whole thing was her idea.”
“Having Tad Albright get you past the gate?”
I nodded.
Hill shrugged. “Then maybe that answers your question. About the ‘true believer and probable field operative’…”
I nodded again and passed him back the progress report. My head was swimming. Usually, I have a good bullshit detector. If Evelyn was the kind of person the feds thought she was, she’d managed to short circuit my detector. Dennis replaced one piece of paper with another. This one had no letterhead, no addressee and no signature. It was also a copy of a copy of a copy. All it said was, “packages coming in through Port of Los Angeles (Long Beach), moved by truck to Riverside (CA), probable origin: The Ukraine”. I read it twice and said, “I don’t get it.”
He took the paper back from me and put it on the bottom of his stack. “Me neither. I was hoping it’d jog something with you. The main point of interest there is Riverside.”
“Sure, but without knowing what these ‘packages’ are, it’s too vague to consider.”
Hill took that paper from me and replaced it with still another. “Agreed. Call it an interesting diversion.” The third sheet had a letterhead. This time from the IRS. “The Internal Revenue Service?” I said.
“Most of it’s interdepartmental gum flapping. Read the first paragraph.”
I read it aloud. “‘Given the recent EU determinations (in Germany, Spain, Italy and Portugal) that the Aetheric Concordance [hereafter AC] is, according to the criteria of those countries, a legally defined cult, it is the judgement of the IRS that the United States should follow suit and discontinue official recognition of AC—particularly as regards 501(c) tax-exempt status. AC’s attainment of 501(c) was, in the judgment of this Director, highly dubious and should be suspended as soon as bureaucratically possible.’” I handed the paper back to my friend and rubbed my eyes, speaking around my fists. “Do you have a Bureau contact you’re dealing with directly?”
Hill nodded. “Agent Yelburton. They don’t make names like that anymore. Yelburton”
“Is Agent Yelburton a stiff like most of those guys or is he willing to talk out of school?”
“It’s a she. Patty. Are you asking me whether she’s willing to hypothesize?”
“Yeah. Shop talk. Shooting the shit. Has she given you anything?”
“No, she’s a complete stiff. Like most of those guys. She needs orders in triplicate just to masturbate.”
“Do you think she’s hip to our agreement?”
“I haven’t told her. I don’t know if she’s spoken to Nikki Nguyen.”
I lowered the fists from my eyes and my shoulders dropped. “What about you?”
“You want me to conjecture based on the pieces I gave you?”
“Yeah. You showed me all of this stuff. Don’t you wanna riff?”
Hill nodded. The papers from his manilla envelope were in their original order. As he spoke, he laid them down one at a time on the little rolling table I used for my meals. He dropped the photo of Gasparyan’s body. “Your Armenian Mafia pal didn’t fit into the pageant anywhere so he was blackballed.” He put down the FBI progress report on top of the eight by ten. “Evelyn Sallow was involved to a deeper degree than previously understood. In fact, her stated motive: getting her sister out of Destiny Base is now, I would say, suspect. Particularly considering it being her idea to go there in the first place.” On top of the Bureau sheet, he put the random memo about ‘packages’ leaving Long Beach and going to Riverside. “This is… I don’t know what this is.” Finally, he dropped the IRS report. “And here we have a probable motive. Given the lengths the Concordance was willing to go to get tax exempt in the first place, I have to assume losing it would not be acceptable to them.” All of that said, he looked at me to assess his appraisal.
I nodded to show I was with him so far. “Throw in the murder of Noah Nguyen, the beating and attempted murder of Nikki Nguyen, the kidnapping and threatened murder of both myself and the dearly parted Ava Amelia—“
My friend interrupted. “Dearly departed? Ava’s dead?”
“No, she hit the bricks.”
Dennis smiled. “Good.”
“Turns out girls don’t enjoy being strong-armed by cultists.”
“There’s no pleasing some people.”
“I know, right?”
Hill thought for a minute. “Taking the extreme high-angle view, I gotta say, none of it means anything to me.”
My shoulders drooped again, this time more dramatically. “Yeah, me neither. I mean I don’t see how any of this allows them to hold on to their five oh-one C.”
“Do they even know they’re about to lose it? I don’t know how widely dispersed that IRS memo has been.”
“You got it from Yelburton?”
“Well, not from her directly…”
I held up a hand. “The less I know the better.”
“Plausibl
e deniability…”
I nodded.
“I wish we had plausible deniability with Nikki Nguyen.”
“What’s her status?” I asked. “I assume she’s out of the hospital…”
“She’s out of the hospital. Why do you ask? You think we should go kill her?”
I thought for a moment then discounted the idea. “Nah. I mean it’s not really our thing, is it?”
“No.”
“What about Patrick Dankworth and Liam O'Connor?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that…”
“Yeah, but I’m asking…”
“Dankworth was on the street again that afternoon. O'Connor got medical attention and was out that evening.”
That irritated me. “You said you’d be able to hold on to O’Connor.”
He shrugged. “A bail was set. Dankworth or the AC or whoever paid it. The law’s the law.”
“Okay, so they’re out. Have you kept tabs on them?”
“No. Dankworth nobody keeps tabs on. He’s a recluse. He’s only seen when he wants to be seen.”
“What about the trigger man?”
“We had to update his description for our guys in the field.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s sporting an eyepatch now.”
“Right. That’s the only thing out of all of this I feel good about. Have your guys in the field seen him?”
“Nope. Radio silence.”
“Sure. Maybe it’s a good idea to go dark after you kill a guy, beat up his sister then kidnap two other people and threaten to kill them too.”
“I would go dark after all that.”
I thought I had more to say, but I stopped short, deflating. “We’re just pissing in the wind here, aren’t we?”
“Oh, fer sure.”
“What if—?”
A knock came at the door and a uniformed policeman—presumably my guard—poked in his head. “Hey, lieutenant. I’m only asking ‘cause you’re here and you can give me a ‘yay’ or ‘nay’. There’s a lady out here says he’s gotta talk to the both of you. You and Mr. Huggins.”
Hill looked pained. “What’s the lady’s name?”
The uniform’s head disappeared and returned several seconds later. When he spoke, his face was red. “Mrs. Hill.”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “Oh, fer fuck’s sake. That’s Doctor Hill to you, Davis.” He stood and opened the door. Sure enough, it was Marjory, his wife. The two of them exchanged pleasantries and a kiss.
Marjory gave me the once over. “You look like hammered dog shit,” she said.
“Thanks, Margie,” I replied. “Always the ray of sunshine.” Marjory was one of the most sardonic people I’d ever met. I loved her to death.
“What’re you doing here?” Dennis said.
“What, I can’t visit one of my oldest friends in his time of need?” She dropped her purse on the bed near my feet and sat down in the seat her husband had vacated. She had long, dirty blond hair, and she moved it from one shoulder to the other.
“Yeah, Dennis,” I threw in. “Why you gotta be so suspicious all the time? You’re like a fucking cop or something.”
“Yeah!” she said in mocking support. “Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and find me a cup of coffee that was brewed after the Eisenhower administration?”
One of Dennis’ eyebrows went up. “Uh-oh. She’s getting rid of me. That means she’s got ulterior motives. Watch yourself, buddy.” He slipped out of the room, leaving his missus and me alone.
“I always knew you were warm for my form, Margie, but what a time to make your feelings known…”
“Where’s Hailey?”
“I sent her home to shower and change. I think we’ve got time for a quickie.”
She looked at me through half-lidded eyes. “I’ve never been drier in my life,” she said, indicating her lap. “We’re talking arid.” Good old Marjory. “Just shut up for a minute, would you?”
“Okay.”
“I do have an ulterior motive. I mean I was going to come and see you anyway, but Dennis and I talked last night. He said you’re freaked out by the amnesia.”
“That is correct,” I replied. “I feel like a walking soap opera cliche.”
“You are a walking soap opera cliche. I mean I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve dealt with that had traumatic memory loss. But—and this is an important but—it happens.”
I sat there, waiting for more. She looked at me placidly and said nothing further. “That’s it? ‘It happens’? That’s all you wanted to say to me?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Wow,” I replied. “I gotta thank you. You really cracked a window and let some air into this whole situation.”
“Don’t be a little bitch. I just thought it might help to hear it from a professional. There’s no sense beating yourself up over something you can’t help. I’m not even surprised you lost a day or so of memories based on what happened to your body. I don’t have time to talk you through it. When I do—if you’re willing—maybe we can even recover what you lost. In the meantime, there’s no point losing any sleep over it.”
“Ever the pragmatist.”
“Yer goddam right,” she said.
Dennis came back in, carrying a cup of coffee.
Marjory stood and picked up her purse. She kissed Dennis lightly on the lips. “I’ve got my workout tonight,” she said. “You and the kids are on your own for dinner.”
“Submarine sandwiches, here we come.”
Marjory exited, passing Hailey in the doorway. The two said “hi” and “bye” to one another. Hailey looked at Dennis and I. “You didn’t tell me we were having a high school reunion.”
“Oh, it was great,” Hill answered. “You want coffee?” He handed her the cup he’d intended to give his wife.
That afternoon, they took the drainage tubes out of my torso and put a dressing on the creepy holes in my body. Apart from the IV attached to my elbow, I was a fully autonomous individual. I asked the nurse when they thought I’d be sprung, but she refused to commit. She said I’d have to ask Dr. Hank. I was itching to be ambulatory, but I was also leery of how dangerous the world had become in the last week and a half.
And speaking of danger… When we were alone again, Hailey pulled over a chair and sat down with her legs curled underneath her. She looked much better than she had when I’d sent her home. She might not’ve gotten burgers like I asked her, but she’d bathed and changed her clothes. No doubt about it, she was a pretty, intelligent woman. A pretty, intelligent woman with some deep-seated problems. “We need to talk,” she said.
“Okay,” I replied. “But I realized something this morning…”
“What’s that?”
“You’re not well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re out of whack. Crazy, maybe.”
Her eyes misted over. “That’s not a nice thing to say. Why would you say that?”
“Because I treated you terrible, and yet you held on. Against all reason. I treated you terrible and yet here you are.”
“I don’t see why that makes me crazy. Doesn’t it make me other things? Like devoted? Like committed?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Hail. I don’t know that it makes you those things at all. I don’t think you’re catching my drift. I’m saying I’m crazy. Crazier than you. Crazy and selfish and mean, and I don’t know that I trust your judgement given you’re willing to put up with all that. It says something about you.”
Hailey leaned back a bit. “Careful. You’re getting into a whole weird area here. If you don’t want me to be with you right now, just say so, but I thought you needed somebody.”
“I did. I needed somebody, and I’m grateful. Don’t think I’m not grateful. I just don’t get something: What’s in it for you?”
“Okay,” my not-really-ex-wife said. “Let me ask you a question first: Where�
�s Ava?”
“Ava’s gone. We—the two of us—got kidnapped and almost killed, and that was kind of Ava’s line-she-wouldn’t-cross. Which—come to think about it—is exactly what I’m talking about. What is Hailey’s line-she-won’t-cross?”
She shook her head. “Nuh-uh,” she said. “That’s for me. To share or not share. Besides, if I tell you my line-that-I-won’t-cross you’ll sure as shit push me over it. It’s this weird phase you’re in where you want control over everything and you wanna use that control to alienate people. I don’t wanna get wrapped up in that. I don’t wanna help you undermine yourself.”
“Why wouldn’t you give up on me? Why after I gave you so much incentive?”
She looked at me hard with her pale green eyes. “I… don’t know. I couldn’t. Maybe I was being selfish about the investment I put into you. Maybe I had a feeling—right or wrong—that I knew you better than you knew yourself. Maybe I was kidding myself about your worth. I… just don’t know.”
“See?” I said. “Crazy.” I said it and I meant it, but something weird had happened. I had a giant erection. I had no desire to fuck given the state of my body but, apparently, my dick didn’t know that. I sighed, trying to ignore the boner. “Will you do me a favor?” I’d made a decision. A decision I hadn’t considered but which felt right in the moment.
Hailey looked at me sideways. “I dunno. Depends…”
I didn’t blame her for being guarded, but she had just spent a week in a hospital without bathing. I couldn’t imagine the hoops she’d had to jump through with her law firm to make that happen. “Just… if you would. I’d feel better about it even though I’m not out of here yet.”
She raised one ginger eyebrow. “What the hell’re you babbling about?”
“The favor. Will you go back to our apartment building and move back into my place? Our place, I mean. Ava was pretty thorough leaving, but if you find anything of hers, just throw it out. Get the place how you want it. Chalk it up to me making the worst mistake of my life. We don’t have to let it lie. I’m not asking to be let off the hook. We can work through it to whatever extent you want, but will you move back in with me?” I was divided in two. One half of me was saying the words (and meaning them) while the other half of me was hearing me say the words and wondering where they came from.
