The Craving

by Jason Starr

  “You won’t survive on your own,” Volker said. “It’s impossible. Either Michael will kill you or you’ll kill someone you love. You don’t know how to control the craving yet.”

  “Look,” Simon said. “I’m all for you teaching me how to control the craving or whatever you want to call it. We can meet up here at a regular time and you can give me lessons or training, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go kill somebody.”

  “Do you want a chance to be human again?”

  Now Simon could smell a human—the park worker who’d come by before. The scent was faint, but getting stronger. Simon said, “What’re you talking about?”

  “When the beer didn’t work correctly the first few times, Michael created another beer, a remedy beer that he said could correct the effect of the other beer.”

  “I thought you said there’s no cure for this,” Simon said.

  “Not a cure, a remedy,” Volker said. “Michael told me he experimented with it once and it worked—it reversed the symptoms of the wolfe and effectively removed the wolfe serum from the subject’s blood. I suspect he also adds new ingredients, perhaps an exotic grain, during the steeping process. You see, when it comes to beer making, Michael is a genius. Now I’m not certain the remedy would work on you, since you have already been bitten and are a full wolfe now, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t. Perhaps you would need to take it in a larger quantity.”

  Simon still had a lot of questions, but the park worker’s scent was getting stronger, so he asked the most important one: “Okay, so how do I get this remedy?”

  “It’s at the brewery, I’m sure,” Volker said. “I’m sure he has a quantity of the beer itself, but he should at least have the recipe. I think you would learn to enjoy your life as wolfe; it is so much more satisfying than a life as human, and you won’t want to abandon it. But if you want to be human again, I believe you can.”

  “So you’re saying I can go to the brewery, take this remedy, and that’s it, my problems will be solved.”

  “No,” Volker said. “Michael would certainly kill you if you took the remedy, and as a human you would be defenseless. Michael won’t let you live with his secrets and risk revealing his pack, and you’ll be unable to hide from him. You saw how easily I tracked you. Well, Michael is even better at it than I am. And he won’t just kill you—he’ll kill your entire family just for his pleasure.”

  “Okay, I get it, I get it,” Simon said. “So what use is a remedy if I can’t take it?”

  “You can take it after you kill Michael,” Volker said. “Return to him, tell him you are ready to join his pack. Tell him you made a mistake and you want him to teach you the way of the wolf. You must be convincing. When he trusts you, you can find an opportunity to get the remedy.”

  “So basically you’re telling me I have to get the Wicked Witch’s broomstick,” Simon said.

  Volker didn’t seem to understand.

  “Whatever,” Simon said. “So how’m I supposed to convince Michael I’m on his side? The last time I saw him we were trying to rip each other’s heads apart.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Volker said. “He will be suspicious, but you can do it, and then you will have access to the remedy.”

  “And what about Charlie and Ramon?” Simon said. “What do you expect me to do, kill them too?”

  Volker considered this, then said, “Perhaps you can persuade them to take the remedy as well. It will be difficult because they were bitten directly by Michael and they both seem to be enjoying the life of the wolf very much. They may resist, but it is important to remember that when Michael is dead you will be their leader. You will have the power over them; you will be in control.”

  Volker was walking away through the woods.

  “Wait, how can I find you again?” Simon asked.

  “I can find you,” Volker said, “that’s more important.”

  “Wait a second!”

  But Volker had already zipped away through the trees and was gone.

  “Hey, jerkoff.”

  Simon turned and saw the park worker facing him, hands on his hips.

  “Who’re you talking to?” the guy asked.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Simon said as he hurried away.

  THIRTEEN

  Stephen Tyler looked nothing like Steven Tyler. Not that Alison really expected that a PI would look like a rock star, but that was the image she’d had in her head. But this Stephen Tyler was Vijay’s age, fortyish, and preppy-looking with wavy blond hair and a very tan face. He was in a red pinstriped shirt tucked into beige slacks. The office was another surprise. It was a normal office building, but the office itself was a big space, divided into cubicles, and his “office” was one of the cubicles. Vijay had said Tyler owned “a big detective agency,” hadn’t he?

  Tyler invited Alison into the cramped space that had barely enough room for a small desk, then told her to wait a second and returned with a chair for her to sit in that he’d borrowed from another office.

  “Sorry it’s a little messy,” he said, pushing a few boxes out of the way with his foot so there was room for the chair. “Actually I just moved here.”

  “Really?” Alison said. “Where did you move from?”

  “Oh, just the other side of this office,” Tyler said, smiling. “Yeah, it was a little tight over there, so it’s great to be able to spread out a little.”

  Alison looked around at the space, which was probably about ten square feet. Meanwhile, Tyler sat at his desk, moving some more boxes off the desk onto the floor.

  “I’m just a little surprised,” Alison said. “Vijay said you owned a large agency.”

  “Oh, it is pretty large,” he said. “I have twelve people working for me, and I’m looking to hire a couple more. Most detective work is done from home nowadays. It’s not Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe running around in fedoras anymore, it’s a bunch of geeks in their underwear on their Macs. So you said on the phone you work with Vijay?”

  Alison fought off an image of Vijay kissing her, their hands in each other’s hair, and said, “Yes, we’re, um, colleagues.”

  “Are you a doctor too?”

  They hadn’t discussed her profession when they spoke on the phone, and now Tyler seemed intrigued, maybe because he thought he could get away with charging a wealthy doctor more?

  “No, I work in pharmaceutical sales,” Alison said. “Vijay is one of my clients.”

  “Oh, okay, I get it,” Tyler said. “Like Grace.”

  “Grace?” Alison was confused.

  “Vijay’s ex,” Tyler said.

  Alison didn’t know why she’d blocked this out. She knew Grace was Vijay’s ex-wife. She just didn’t know she had also worked in pharmaceutical sales. Why hadn’t Vijay ever mentioned that?

  “That’s right, Grace, of course,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t know what Vijay told you about me,” Tyler said, “but I’m not your ordinary PI. I took a sort of unorthodox route to detective work. I have a master’s in psychology from the New School. I worked in forensic psychology for a few years, then got into the investigation biz. So what I’m saying is I have a unique understanding into the psyche of my clients. In other words, I’m sympathetic to what you’re going through. I get it.”

  Alison already had her own therapist and a marriage counselor. The last thing she needed was more therapy.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate this, but I really don’t need any emotional support. I just want to find out if my husband’s cheating on me.”

  “You don’t mean if,” Tyler said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Honesty is the most important thing in a detective-client relationship,” he said. “Eighty percent of women who come in here who suspect their husbands are cheating turn out to be right. Unfortunately that’s just the way it is, and in my experience it’s best to be up front and honest about that reality. I know how difficult divorce can be, coming to terms that your marriage is over.”


  So much for not having another therapist.

  “Well, I think the jury is still out on this case,” Alison said. “My husband’s behavior has been pretty, well, unusual, but I don’t know for sure he’s cheating.”

  “Unusual how?” Tyler asked.

  After taking a full breath for energy, Alison explained how Simon had lost his job and then started acting strange until he finally claimed he’d become a werewolf. Tyler absorbed it all, until she mentioned the word werewolf, and then he started laughing.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” he said, “it’s wrong. I mean, I know this is a traumatic situation for you.” Tyler tried to maintain a serious expression, and then laughter burst out again. “Sorry, I’m really sorry. I mean, it’s just you think you’ve heard everything and then…” He laughed again. “I’m really truly sorry.”

  “No, go ahead and laugh,” Alison said. “I know how funny it could seem if it’s happening to someone else. If I were you I’d probably be laughing too. Everyone thinks it’s funny, even the police.”

  “Police?” Tyler wasn’t laughing now.

  “Simon had an incident yesterday morning,” Alison said. “I guess you could call it a breakdown. Anyway, we had a fight afterward and he left the apartment and I haven’t seen him since.”

  She left out the part about how she’d threatened him with a large knife, figuring this was a detail that didn’t really matter.

  “You have any idea where he went?” Tyler asked.

  Alison shook her head. “He texted me yesterday, but I didn’t respond. I guess he’s in the city somewhere. I mean, he had to sleep somewhere, so it’s either a hotel or at someone’s apartment.” Someone was purposely full of accusation and bitterness.

  “Is there a hotel he frequently stays at, or has relatives stay at?”

  “No, not really,” Alison said.

  “No or not really?” Tyler asked.

  “No,” Alison said.

  “What about other women in his life? Is there someone he works with who’s been calling? An ex-girlfriend? Somebody he texts with, chats with on Facebook?”

  “No, the only one I’m kind of suspicious of is our babysitter, this girl Christina.”

  “Girl?”

  “Well, she graduated from college but lives with her parents across the hall. Actually she’s with my son right now, but I don’t think she’s really having an affair with Simon. I think it’s just paranoia.”

  “If you’re paranoid, there’s usually a reason for it,” Tyler said. “It sounds like things have been rough for a while between you two.”

  “No, not really,” Alison said. “I mean, we used to have problems, like all couples, but nothing like this. Our problems really started when he lost his job and became a stay-at-home dad and met these other dads in Battery Park. That’s when he really changed and started developing all of these problems. I think they were a bad influence on him, especially this guy Michael. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it has nothing to do with them. Maybe he’s been cheating on me for years and I’ve just been oblivious.”

  “Well, I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Tyler said, looking right at Alison’s eyes. “I guarantee that.”

  Alison liked Tyler’s confidence. It made her feel secure, like she had an ally.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That’s all I want at this point. Some kind of closure.”

  “Well, here’s what I want to do,” Tyler said. “I can try some of the likely hotels, but it’ll be faster if I can just tail him and see what he’s up to. You said he texted you?”

  Alison nodded.

  “Great,” Tyler said. “So here’s what we do. Text him back. Tell him you want to talk to him. Phrase it however you want, just leave it vague, and tell him something that’ll make him want to meet you somewhere.”

  “But I don’t want to meet him.”

  “You won’t,” Tyler said. “Pick a busy spot, like Grand Central Station; can’t get more public than that, right? You won’t show up, but I will, and then I’ll tail him. Does your husband, Simon, know where the bar at Cipriani is?”

  “You mean the one up the steps?” Alison said. “Yeah, we’ve been there before.”

  “Perfect,” Tyler said. “Tell him you want to meet him there sometime today, as soon as possible, five o’clock would be perfect on my end. I’m working on a couple of other things right now, but I want to get right on this today, and five’s as busy as it gets at Grand Central. So you arrange a time to meet him, and then I find out who he’s with, where he’s staying. If all goes well, in a few hours you can have the closure you’re looking for.”

  He made it sound so simple.

  “You make it sound so simple,” Alison said.

  “Hey, that’s why you came to me, right?” Tyler smiled. “So why don’t you text your husband right now and see what he says?”

  Alison typed, then deleted a few texts, then fiddled with the wording in one and finally sent:

  I really want to talk to you today, away from Jeremy. How about five at Cipriani in Grand Central?

  She thought he’d think it was unusual to suggest meeting at Grand Central and might suspect it was some kind of setup, especially considering she’d called the police on him yesterday. But she thought mentioning that she wanted to see him away from Jeremy made sense—it was the best explanation she could come up with, anyway.

  While they were waiting to see if Simon wrote back, Tyler went over his fee. He explained that he normally charged five hundred dollars a day plus expenses, but because she was a friend of Vijay’s he’d do it for four fifty. He estimated it could take anywhere from one to three days to get the information he needed, but they agreed they would talk again if the case seemed to be dragging. All of this seemed reasonable to Alison. Tyler asked for the first day’s fee up front, and Alison charged it on her Amex.

  Still waiting for some response from Simon, Alison and Tyler talked about what a great guy Vijay was, and Tyler told a funny story about how in college Vijay got lost on a road trip to Syracuse and wound up in Buffalo. Then he asked about her work, and he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. It had been ages since Simon had asked her about her work, and lately he had been completely self-absorbed. It was such a relief to be with normal guys like Vijay and Tyler, who were attentive and supportive. It made her realize how much had been missing in her marriage.

  Alison’s phone vibrated, announcing an incoming text.

  Reading from her phone she said, “He said he’ll be there at five.”

  “Perfect,” Tyler said. “When he texts you, asking where you are, say you couldn’t make it, something came up, but don’t cancel until he texts you. I’ll be in touch later on and let you know how it’s going. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Alison said.

  “All I need is a photo of your husband,” Tyler said. “Hopefully you have one on your phone or online somewhere.”

  “I have pictures on my phone,” Alison said.

  She found a couple of photos of Simon that were taken last month when they’d taken Jeremy to Central Park together. It was shortly after Simon had lost his job and his weird behavior had started. She remembered how a few minutes after the photos were taken he’d climbed with Jeremy to the top of some very high rocks and then jumped off, leaving Jeremy up there alone. He’d been so careless, so irresponsible, but now she realized that the behavior had foreshadowed everything that had come later—how he’d checked out, abandoned the family, gone off in his own crazy fantasy world.

  “Everything okay?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, fine.” Alison forced a smile. “What’s your e-mail?”

  Tyler gave her his address, and then, as she was sending the pics, he said sincerely, “I promise. It does get better.”

  Leaving the office building, Alison was excited. Soon she’d get the closure she needed and find out what big secret Simon was hiding. At this point it was only a matter of time.
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  Simon had left the Ramble and was heading across the romantic Bow Bridge when a man with a heavy Italian accent said to him, “Will you take a photo?”

  The guy was young, in his twenties, obviously a tourist, out for an early-morning stroll in the park with his wife or girlfriend, also twenty-something.

  “Sure,” Simon said.

  The guy handed Simon his camera, wincing a little when he got close. Funny, Simon was so adept at detecting scents—for example, the scents of the guy’s cologne and the girl’s perfume were prominent—but was oblivious to his own body odor. After a night of running around the Ramble as a werewolf he doubted he smelled very pleasant.