Camden's Knife

by John Patrick Kavanagh

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “What is it, hon?”

  “Something…something happened between me and a woman.”

  “What? When?”

  “It didn’t mean anything. It really didn’t. It was just…it was just a strange set of…”

  “Who, David?”

  “It was…”

  She placed a finger over his lips.

  “Wait. The same one you were asking Robin about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God! Please don’t tell me…” she said, then gave what seemed to be an embarrassed cough.”You weren’t involved in one of those, uh…”

  “No. Nothing like that. But, yeah, we were…we both got involved with her.”

  “And she has something to do with all of this, this…thing you’ve gotten involved in?”

  “Yes.”

  Her face didn’t show a hint of anger nor surprise. Rather, she seemed curious; simply interested in the revelation.”Lane?”

  He nodded, then after telling her to wait for him to return, opened the Mustang’s door.

  He walked hastily to the first gate, recognizing the guard and stepping past the line of 20 people waiting to get in.

  “Hi,” the bouncer said, “you don’t have to show me your card.” But he didn’t open the remaining barrier.

  “Was there a guy with a beard here?”

  “Yes, sir. There was. He’s inside now. Are you Stonetree?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He asked if I knew you. Said he’d be inside. His name is Camden.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The boss told me to let him in.”

  “Thanks,” he replied, moving toward the second gate.

  “Oh, Mr. Stonetree?”

  He turned back.”What?”

  “Is she with you?” he asked, pointing to Sharon as she ran up.

  “Huh? Oh, Sharon!” He paused a beat.”Yes, she is.”

  There were no customers on the upper landing and the dance floor’s surrounding area was empty as they stepped in. Stonetree squinted around the upper level as his eyes adjusted to the low light. He didn’t recognize any of the three waitresses standing at the bar.

  “Do you see him?”

  “There he is, I think,” she replied, pointing to a high table beyond the dance floor and ledge, its four high stools empty in the middle of the safety zone, away from the furnace. Empty, that is, except for the slight figure of Dr. Camden. They raced down the right side stairs, reaching the table at the same time as the proprietor who raised his Louisville Slugger.

  “This is a private table, boy. You’ll have to leave.”

  “Hi, Kennard. It’s okay.”

  “That’s correct, Mr. Brown,” Camden said.”He’s with me.”

  “I was told three people and these two ain’t them.”

  “Mr. Smite will approve. Could you send a waitress over to take our order?”

  He snorted, glared at Sharon then walked slowly away, turning his head a few times to glare again.

  “Robin set you up,” Stonetree said.”They know all about us. He’s been talking to her.”

  “I was beginning to suspect,” the doctor sighed, looking to Sharon.”Trust is hard to come by these days.”

  “I know that feeling.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Stonetree urged. The scientist began to get up when Kennard called from behind.

  “Stay! The waitress is on her way. You don’t need to be goin’ nowhere.”

  “Just outside for a little fresh air, Kennard.” He motioned to the upper landing.”Unless we could use the back door?”

  “You ain’t going nowhere, cousin. Now sit there and wait for your guests. Take care of them, Kristin,” he ordered the waitress, who greeted Stonetree with a lascivious smile.

  “Well hello, David,” she cooed, squeezing his forearm.”I’ve never seen you without a tie. This is a beautiful shirt.”

  Sharon frowned and looked into the furnace as the jets turned from blue to red.

  “Hi, Kristin. You look nice today too.”

  “Only nice?” She pouted.”Last time you were here, a few weeks ago? With Tyler? You said I looked, what was the word? Smashing?’’

  “Yeah, well, you do today too. Could I have a Chivas?”

  “On the rocks,” she added.

  “And, Doctor, you’ll have... ?”

  “A beer would be fine. Any kind.”

  “Sharon?”

  “Oh, me? I’ll have a glass of white wine. I love white wine. It’s so smashing,” she replied, eyeing the waitress.

  Kristin stepped away, bumping into an agitated Doug Smite who’d changed clothes since the morning. He now sported a black leather sport coat with a diamond lapel pin in the shape of a shooting star with a flowing tail, along with a dress shirt, tie and faded jeans. He carried three boxes marked Scotch 250, tightly bound together with twine. A plastic grip strained under the weight of the cube.

  “Hello, Doc,” he said, setting the tapes on the floor.”Who’s she?” he continued, glancing at Sharon.

  “A friend,’’ Stonetree replied.

  “This is no place for friends, friend. Would you excuse yourself, lady?”

  Stonetree placed his hand on her shoulder.”Go sit in one of the lounge chairs, huh? We won’t be long.” She began to walk away but her progress was halted by Brown who was leaning at the ledge surrounding the dance floor, tapping the bat in his palm.

  “It’s okay, Kennard,” Smite shouted.”Let her go. And what the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded as he eyed Stonetree.

  “He drove me here. He can stay,” Camden said.

  “Fine. Trishabelle ought to be here anytime. How d’you like this place, Art?”

  “I was looking at that newspaper headline over this, this...’’ Camden answered, motioning to the inferno.

  “The furnace?”

  “Yes, this furnace. Two people jumped into it?”

  “Fried like a Sunday morning breakfast,” Smite laughed.”The first people ever to be barbecue instead of eating it!” Kristin returned to the table, handing Stonetree his scotch, Camden his beer and looking around for the wine customer.

  “I’ll take that one,” Smite said, pulling it from her hand.”Thank you, Kennard,” he called to the owner, toasting him.”Honey, you are about the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Kristin, is that your name?”

  “Yes it is. Thank you.”

  He took a sip of the wine and spit it back into the glass.”This tastes like piss.” He grimaced, looking at Camden and then the waitress.”Why don’t you bring us a bottle of Dom,” he continued, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.”And four glasses.”

  “I’ll be happy to, sir.”

  “Sir? You don’t have to call me sir, honey.” He paused.”You can just call me honey, honey.”

  “Anything you say, Mr. Honey.”

  “You are incredibly gorgeous. Do you know who I am?”

  “Are you a friend of David’s?”

  Smite looked to Stonetree, then frowned.”Yes I am, darling. My name is Doug Smite. And I also am a friend of Wexford’s. I’m his manager. In fact,” he continued, polishing the lapel pin, “you’re just the type of girl we want to put on his next album cover.” He leaned closer.”How’d you like to fly to Indiana with me later tonight where we can discuss things in more detail?”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Well, David is my manager,” she laughed, turning to leave.”You’d better discuss it with him.”

  Stonetree saw Lane approach from behind wearing a black raincoat, one hand holding the notebooks, the other the framed knives.

  “We all seem to be here,” she said as she set the books on the table and the collection on the floor. A hiss rose from the furnace as the streams of fire grew brighter and changed from red to hot white. He felt a blast brush against his right side as the music increased in volume and switched from
a slow dance tune to Wexford’s first number one song.

  Lane turned toward the dance floor.”Our boy.”

  “Our boy? Our dumbshit boy,” Smite said.”Do you want a drink, Trish?”

  “No thank you. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Camden looked to her and bent forward, staring intently.

  “What’s the purpose of this whole charade, Trisha? Why all of the pretense? If you wanted the distillate,” he continued, pulling a small brown pharmacist’s bottle from his coat pocket, “why didn’t you just call me up and ask for it?”

  “I wasn’t sure you had it.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I was told you did.”

  “By whom?”

  She looked at Stonetree.”A new friend of yours?”

  “He didn’t tell me, Trisha. And he doesn’t know now if I’ve got it. McReynolds?”

  “McReynolds.”

  “Why now?”

  “We need it. We’re onto something bigger than Febrifuge.” She paused.”Bigger than you.”

  “I want to know what it is.”

  “That’s not your concern, Arthur. It’s my discovery, not yours. Sorry, this one stays off the record.”

  Camden looked over his shoulder at Brown who’d been joined by two of the club’s enforcers, one of them tapping the large brass handle of a walking stick in his hand. Then after regarding the three around the table, he stood and took a step backward toward the furnace.

  The waitress returned and set a champagne bucket and four glasses on the table. Smite shot the cork into the furnace then filled each of the glasses. He lifted one to Lane but she refused. He emptied a glass in a few gulps and then refilled it, setting the bottle down on the table.

  “How about you, Doc?” he asked, raising a glass toward him.”Why don’t you join in the celebration?”

  ‘‘That’s a good idea,” Lane added.”I’ll explain it all after we make our exchange.”

  “I want to know now, or the deal is off.”

  “Now, Artie,” Smite interrupted, relaxing an arm on the table.”The rules of this game are no longer in your control. I do not want any trouble from you. Trisha does not want any trouble from you. Those three gentlemen standing over at that railing do not want any trouble from you.”

  “You manage Wexford’s career Mr. Smite, not mine.” He hesitated, looked at the flask then took another step back.”And was that a threat?”

  “No, my good man. That was a promise. Don’t fuck with me and you won’t get hurt. Kennard’s dogs there look real hungry.”

  “They do look something but I’m not certain what,” he agreed.”And you look a little thirsty, Mr. Smite. Perhaps you’d like something more to drink?” he asked, holding the flask toward him.”Or maybe not.”

  With a quick flick of his wrist he tossed the bottle into the furnace, a flash and a loud pop announcing its disintegration. Kennard moved toward him as Smite stood, Camden crouching a bit and holding open palms toward both of them.

  “One more step and I swear to you I’ll dive in with the rest of it! And that is a promise, Mr. Smite. Don’t tempt me!” He pulled out another flask the same size as the first.

  Kennard looked to the table and Smite motioned for him to return to the ledge.

  “Tell them to get lost,” Stonetree said to Camden.

  “You keep out of this, David,” Lane warned.”I can’t protect you here.”

  “Tell them to get lost,” the doctor directed.

  “We’re okay here, Kennard,” Smite announced.”We just need a little more privacy. The doctor here is a little nervous. Why don’t you and the boys leave us alone.”

  “I don’t want no one throwing shit into the furnace, Doug. I don’t want it.”

  “Don’t worry! You have any damage, I’ll take care of it. No sweat. Just leave us alone for a few minutes. There’s hardly anyone here, anyway.”

  The owner looked around, then back.”We got them in line out there, Doug. I want to open.”

  “Don’t worry, don’t worry. And don’t worry about your little campfire. I’ve got all the damages, understand? Go have one on the house.”

  “I am the fucking house. I got people in line. Get it over with.”

  “Dave,” Smite said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out three Kruegerrands.”Give these to Mr. Brown, would you?”

  Stonetree walked across and handed them over, Brown looking at them suspiciously.

  “That’s to cover your delayed business, Kennard. Plus I get all the damages. Leave us alone for ten minutes, okay?”

  Brown tossed the coins a few inches in the air and caught two of them in his other hand, the third retrieved by one of the bouncers.

  “The place is yours.” He motioned to the flames.”You’ve got 15 minutes. Throw the fucking stools into it if you want!” he roared, turning and pushing the guards away with him.

  Camden relaxed a bit but held his position near the furnace, passing the second flask back and forth in his hands and staring at Lane.

  “That was an incredibly stupid and costly thing to do, Arthur,” she said.”Do you know how much that little temper tantrum was worth?”

  “Two ounces?” he replied, raising his eyebrows.”Priceless. You can’t buy it many places these days, can you? In fact, I know you can’t get it anywhere.”

  “Which is why I came to you. Now can we conclude our agreement?”

  “As soon as you tell me what you plan to do with my part of it.”

  “I told you, it’s none of your business. Now let’s get on with it.”

  He made to flick the second bottle into the furnace, but didn’t.”I asked you, Trisha. What’s it for?”

  “You know something,” she said as she removed her coat, revealing a tight red t-shirt, a coiled black rhinestone rattler with silver fangs set between her breasts, her red miniskirt inappropriate for anywhere but a bedroom.”I went home after the discussion I had with Pierre this afternoon and I thought about a portion of that conversation in which your name came up.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She reached into one of the notebooks and removed the pages he’d torn out earlier, taking a few steps toward the furnace, leisurely folding them into a tiny packet.”And he asked me, as we talked about my reorganization plan, to describe the problem I had with you before your resignation.”

  “And?”

  “I told him,” she said, tossing the papers into the furnace and watching them disappear in a puff, “that my biggest problem was that you could never tell the difference between what was intrinsically valuable and what you personally thought was valuable. I said I felt the gap was incredible. And it’s true.” She returned to her seat.”What do you think?”

  “I think you should refrain from incinerating those notes,” he warned.”They’re much more valuable than you could imagine.”

  “Maybe to you,” she said as he placed the bottle in his pocket, “but not to me. Now why don’t we continue with this blue one that supposedly contains your unbridled genius.” She lifted it, holding it toward him.”I’ll give this to David and he’ll give it to you. You give him the flask and we can finish this up before you know it.”

  “You can be back in Georgia tonight, Camden,” Smite added.”Don’t be an asshole, all right?”

  “I told you,” the doctor said in a sleepy voice, large drops of sweat forming on his forehead.”I want to know what you plan to do with the CY6A4. Tell me, and we’ll be done.”

  “Sorry, Arthur. The notebooks for the flask. That’s what we agreed on. Nothing more.”

  “And my knives. But the deal has changed. What do you want it for?”

  “None of your business!”

  He removed the bottle from his jacket, again making to toss it into oblivion.”Last chance, Trisha.”

  “You bastard!” she howled.”You stupid bastard! I can play your game too!” She arched the notebook from her hand and it tumbled end over end into the furnace, disappearing i
n a brief fizz.”There! Are you happy, you stupid old man.’’

  Camden wiped the sweat off his forehead, an odd, almost mad look coming to his face.

  “Are you okay, Doctor?” Stonetree asked.”It’s boiling over here. You’d better sit down.”

  “I’m all right. I can sit later. First we finish this.”

  “You’re sick, Arthur,” she said.”You’re not well. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “Come on, Doc,” Smite added.”You’ll fry over there. You look like you’re dying.”

  “I’m fine, just fine,” he replied, wiping more sweat off his cheeks then rubbing one of his eyes.”What do you want it for?”

  “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!” she yelled, slapping a palm on the table.”Just get away from the fire. You’ll pass out. You’ll fall in.”

  He staggered away from the flames, motioning for Stonetree to give him room. Then he looked at the furnace and took a step back.

  “Tell me. Now.”

  Stonetree pulled one of the stools from the table and set it behind him. Camden placed a heel onto one of the support rungs and leaned on the cushion with his free hand.

  “We came up with a formula, a very important discovery. A chemical to unlock our minds, our potential.”

  “You and who?”

  “Raymond Hickey.”

  “Ray Hickey?” he chuckled.”His greatest skill is quitting positions before he gets canned.”

  “Not this time.”

  “What is it? Next generation? A new series?”

  “No,” she replied, propping her chin on one hand, her elbow resting on the other notebook.”Something different, exciting, important. Words you don’t understand.”

  “Tell me more.”

  She stretched across the table, bending low and grasping the opposite edge with both hands.”It is beyond Febrifuge, beyond everything. It’s a compound, an elixir for a new age. A new age that doesn’t belong to you, Arthur. It belongs to me, and me alone.”

  The doctor wiped his cheeks again and blinked through his watering eyes, a confused look distorting his face.

  “Wait! Is this a compound that actually uses the distillate? You actually add it to the compound?”

  “That’s right.”

  He convulsed and Stonetree stepped toward him, but realized he wasn’t coughing. Instead, it was chuckling, soon replaced by laughter. He looked at Smite and Lane, their faces blank, changing from white to blue as the furnace did the same.