The Perdition Score

  “What happened to Liliane?”

  “Like me, she woke up. In her case, during her funeral preparations. Her revival caused the exact uproar I had avoided. The police were called. François Grillet, the police official with whose wife I had conducted my affair, arrived first at poor Liliane’s resurrection. Unfortunately, he knew about the affair by this time and recognized Liliane as the lover of his greatest enemy. So, he took this woman who shouldn’t have been alive and stabbed her in the heart.”

  “And because she’d popped out of the casket, he could claim anything he wanted.”

  “You understand these monstrosities so well, James,” he says before settling back against the sofa. “Well, after that, no respectable mortician would have anything to do with Liliane’s apparently dead body. She was taken to a paupers’ cemetery to be interred in a mass grave with the lost and forgotten. But, like me, on the third day she awoke before she could be put into the ground. She understood what had happened and knew that she could never live in normal Parisian society again. She escaped and crossed the continent for decades, using the alchemical techniques she learned from me to pay her way. In fact, she only went back to France as a refugee when Herr Hitler breathed his last. She’s been living there ever since.”

  I flex my Kissi hand, feeling the sheer strangeness of it for the first time in a year.

  “It’s a nice story, but you’re leaving out something.”

  “Am I?”

  “The part where you kill François Grillet.”

  He laughs.

  “See? You do understand.”

  He takes a long breath.

  “The story of la femme revenante was everywhere. When I heard about what Grillet had done to Liliane, I surmised what had really happened. So, one night while the gentleman was in bed, I crept in and cut his throat. When I was recognized and men came for me, I killed them too. I’d seen the grave once, thought that I had lost my great love to it, and was not about to be sent to the next world by such curs.”

  I watch him, sprawled on the sofa, half drunk and with tears in his eyes.

  “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”

  “Who can say?” he mumbles.

  “I do. You’re in love with the woman who murdered you.”

  “It sounds strange when you say it like that. But it was so long ago. Time has healed so much of what happened between us.”

  I shake my head.

  “This is all very sweet. Very Romeo and Juliet. Just be careful, man. Don’t do something stupid that’s going to get you poisoned again.”

  He sits back up.

  “I’m not foolish enough to make that mistake again.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Vidocq pushes back his hair and wipes the tears from his eyes.

  “Thank you. I’ve never been able to tell anyone the whole story before. It’s good to get it out.”

  “Are you going to tell Allegra?”

  “No,” he says. “Even after all this time, one remains ashamed of the mistakes of one’s past. I hope, James, that you will take pity on a very old fool and keep my secret.”

  He looks at me until I nod.

  “Just don’t do anything fucking stupid. You’re a big boy, so I’m just going to worry about Allegra.”

  “And bruising my ass.”

  “Yep.”

  “Understood,” he says.

  I look around the room.

  “We’ve all got skeletons in the closet, I suppose. Did I ever tell you about how I helped fake the moon landing?”

  He laughs, not so drunk this time.

  “No. You must enlighten me sometime.”

  I’m about to say something dumb when the door opens and Allegra comes in. She looks at Vidocq, then at me, then at all the wine on the table.

  “I see you two have had a productive afternoon.”

  “Your old man was telling me alchemy stories. Tell her how you invented water.”

  She puts down her coat and bag and sits down next to Vidocq. He puts an arm around her.

  “That was you?” she says. She looks at him. “Are you keeping secrets from me?”

  “Never, my dear. Never.”

  I get up, feeling a little uncomfortable seeing her where Liliane was a few minutes earlier. Allegra spots the bottle of black milk and picks it up.

  “You brought it back,” she says.

  “Actually, that’s a new bottle.”

  Vidocq sits up at that.

  “James, since you now have two bottles, might we keep this one for a while?”

  “I want to say no, but I also want to know more about the stuff. Keep it, but don’t let anyone know you have it.”

  Allegra makes a motion at her lips like turning a key.

  “Tick a lock,” she says.

  We say our good-byes and I take the industrial elevator down to the Hellion hog.

  Isn’t life one big bowl of what-the-fuck? I was surprised upstairs when Vidocq all but admitted that he was still in love with his killer. At that moment, I didn’t understand how he could do it. By the time I get to the bike, I know exactly. Alice and I were together for years. It wasn’t until she was dead and I met her ghost that she showed me the skeleton hanging in her closet. She’d been sent to spy on me by the Sub Rosa council. Alice was my Mata Hari, passing on our pillow talk to paranoid magicians convinced I was making murder potions with my chemistry set. But in the end, she loved me, and when I saw her after missing her all those years, it took me all of ten seconds to forgive her. I don’t know if that makes any more sense than what Vidocq said went down between him and Liliane. What I do know is that a famous dead guy once said, “Life is a bucket of shit with a barbed-wire handle.” Maybe that’s all any of this love crap comes down to. Finding someone to carry your load of shit with, even when your hands get raw and bloody. No one’s ever going to turn that into a love song, but if some lunatic did, I’d be first in line to buy a copy for Candy.

  SHE GETS HOME around six, taking the night off from work and guitar lessons.

  “We’re going to start getting the whole band together soon. Alessa and I have worked out a bunch of guitar parts and they’ll sound great with bass and drums.”

  “I’m sure Fairuza and Cindil will be happy to hear you haven’t forgotten them.”

  “I’ve been talking to both of them. They know we’re working some things out and they’re cool with it.”

  “I can’t wait to hear the new songs.”

  “Me too,” she says.

  She seems a little preoccupied, but with her rehearsals and a full-time job, she gets tired early. Working on the council doesn’t take that many hours a week, and Kasabian hates having me in the store, so normally I have nothing but time. The big skeleton in my closet is that sometimes I pray for maniac angels and bastards like Wormwood to come after me. I think I’m a crisis junkie. Between holocausts, I watch movies, listen to music, and work a few hours downstairs. I have no idea what the hell else I’m supposed to do the rest of the time. I’m like a college pothead slacker, zoned out on the sofa, then panicking because I have to write a book report on Silas Marner. Candy thinks it’s all PTSD blowback. Maybe she’s right. I don’t know what I’d do right now if I didn’t have clowns like Charlie and Burgess to go after. My nightmares have gone away and even the headaches are better. Maybe my best bet for staying sane is to get Jason Voorhees to chase me with a machete the rest of my life.

  We order Thai food and listen to some of the records Candy and Alessa have been learning songs from. After we’re done eating, Candy settles down against me for a while. I tell her about meeting with Liliane and Vidocq about black milk and the drill, but I don’t go into anything of them mooning over each other. It’s just too weird and it feels like gossip. Besides, if Vidocq pulls his shit together it won’t mean anything in the long run. Candy asks to see the drill. I get it and she plays with it for a few minutes before losing interest and setting it on the table.

&n
bsp; “Abbot’s got you running around all over the place. I’m glad you could make a few minutes for me,” she says.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re the one who’s been missing in action. I’m out chasing international jewel thieves and you’re playing bongos with your beatnik friends.”

  “You know it, daddy-o,” she says. Then, “Hey, that thing with Nick and Geoffrey Burgess. That was a big coincidence you being there, right?”

  “Yeah. The kid was the last thing I was looking for. Why?”

  “It’s nothing. I just wondered if it had anything to do with Elsabeth.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “She’s Burgess’s wife.”

  “Why would I care about her?”

  “Abbot told you about Nick. I thought he might have heard about it from his sister.”

  I look at her.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Julie stumbled across it and had me double-check. Elsabeth Abbot has been Mrs. Elsabeth Burgess for three years now.”

  Fucking Abbot. What kind of games has he been playing with me? I knew I should never trust that blue-blood fuck.

  “I need to go out.”

  I start to get up, but Candy grabs my arm.

  “Don’t go running off yet. Please. I shouldn’t have said anything about Abbot. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe I was putting off something else.”

  I sit back down.

  “What have you been putting off?”

  She sits back, wrapping her arms around her knees.

  “You remember a while back, you got mad when I talked to Julie about you maybe having PTSD?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And then you asked if I was upset about Rinko coming by.”

  Candy and Rinko got together when I was stranded Downtown last year and everyone thought I was dead. She’s never forgiven me because, after an ultimatum, Candy decided to stay with me.

  “I remember.”

  “You asked if I still wanted to go out with Rinko, and I said no. But I also said that I sometimes miss dating women.”

  “Did you change your mind about Rinko? I told you to do what you wanted. I’m not going to lock the doors or tell you how to live your life.”

  “It has nothing to do with Rinko,” she says.

  No, of course it wouldn’t. Would it? I’m such an idiot.

  “It’s Alessa, isn’t it? She’s who you’re talking about.”

  She bobs her head once and looks at me.

  “Are you mad? Do you hate me?”

  “I’m not mad and I’m never going to hate you.”

  “Yes, but how do you feel? What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her, and it’s the truth. “I’m not playing games. I just don’t know.”

  Candy turns around so she’s facing me. She puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “You can tell me no, you know. Say it and I’ll never mention it again.”

  I blink a couple of times. Scratch the bridge of my nose.

  “You know I’m not going to tell you no. Listen, I barely know what to do with myself most of the time. Without a crisis, I don’t have much to offer anyone.”

  She bites her lip. “We haven’t done anything,” she says.

  “It’s okay. I know that.”

  “Is that all? You can say whatever you want.”

  I shake my head.

  “If you’re looking for a way out, I’m not Rinko. I don’t do ultimatums.”

  “And that’s one of the things I like best about you. You don’t play games.”

  “But let me ask you something: Have you told Alessa who you really are?”

  “Of course not,” she says.

  “Then she only knows you as Chihiro.”

  “Right.”

  “How are you going to handle that?”

  “What do you mean? I’m not going to say anything about Candy.”

  “Which means most of what she knows about you is a lie. It’s the cover story we made up after Candy ‘died.’”

  Her eyes go blank for a minute. I think she’s getting so used to thinking of herself as both Chihiro and Candy at the same time, she didn’t consider how that would affect someone who didn’t know her before.

  “I never thought of that.”

  “You can’t tell her about Candy. Or that you’re a Jade. Not yet anyway. And if you do go for this, you better think about what that means for anything long term.”

  She sits back against the sofa. Frowns a little.

  “This advice thing you’re doing right now, are you just trying to avoid talking about what you’re really feeling?”

  “Probably. But listen, I know you’ve had other girlfriends. I’m not going to be the guy who tells you you have to live half your life.”

  She looks at me for a long time, like she’s trying to dig her way into my skull.

  “Then, if I do this, you’re not going to break up with me and throw me out?”

  “Only if after all this you still suck at guitar. Then all bets are off.”

  She puts her arms around me. Puts her head into my neck. I think she might be crying a little.

  “Thank you for not hating me for asking.”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  “And I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

  “Me neither.”

  She moves her head around and kisses me.

  “And thank you for trusting me,” she says.

  “Thanks for being up front with me.”

  She sits back against the couch. My arm is around her and she holds my hand.

  “I’d kill anyone who hurt you, you know,” says Candy.

  “I know.”

  “That’s why I never want to do it. I’d have to kick my own ass.”

  “That would be something to see.”

  “Wouldn’t it, though?”

  She takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom.

  In the morning, I carry down bits and pieces of the broken side tables and bed frame to the Dumpster. They’re going to cost money, but I think the mattress is still salvageable.

  I DON’T KNOW what to think about anything as I have coffee and get dressed. The one thing I’m sure of is that I’m a lot more pissed about Abbot than upset about Candy. She’s still someone I can trust. Abbot is someone I can’t. He’s played me for a fool and it’s time to do something about that. I get out my phone and text him.

  I’m coming over. Be there or I’m burning your boat.

  I grab the Hellion hog and hit the freeway as fast as I can, lane-splitting at eighty all the way to Marina del Rey.

  When I get to the boatyard, I park the bike facing the street, in case things go weird and I have to get out of there fast. I head through the security gate and down the pier. Lucky me. Willem and a couple of Abbot’s security guys are waiting for me at the boat. I brace for trouble, but Willem steps back and ushers me onto the deck.

  “Good to see you, Mr. Stark. Right this way.”

  I stop on the boat’s gangway.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “The augur is waiting for you.”

  “He better be.”

  I start onto the boat when Willem calls.

  “Audsley Ishii sends his regards. He says he’s sorry about your friend’s car. He’ll be more careful next time.”

  I point at Willem and his cop mustache.

  “You’re on the list, Willem.”

  “What list?”

  “The haunting list. If Audsley kills me it’s going to be moaning and rattling chains every night for you. And I don’t take weekends or holidays off.”

  He looks to his men, then back at me.

  “I’ll just get an exorcist.”

  “Then I’ll haunt your car. I’ll haunt your man cave on the boat here. Hell, I’ll haunt your shoes. There aren’t enough exorcists in L.A. to keep up with me.”

  “Big talker, all you cons.”

  “I have friends in low places, Willem.
You have no idea the shit I can get up to.”

  “Are you two done?”

  I look around. Abbot is on the deck in chinos and a sporty shirt. He doesn’t look happy. Good.

  “Come inside, Stark,” he says.

  I follow him into the living room area. He offers me a chair. I shake my head. He goes to a table and picks up a drink.

  “So, what’s this about burning my boat?”

  “Elsabeth Burgess. That name ring a bell?”

  He looks at his drink for a minute and sits down.

  “Who do you think has been getting me all the information about Wormwood?”

  “Thanks, but I figured that part out. What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me you were connected to Wormwood? And don’t fucking lie to me because I’ll know it.”

  That sends Abbot’s blood pressure up a little because he knows I’m telling the truth.

  He sets down the drink. Opens his hands and closes them again.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t work with me if you knew I had family in Wormwood.”

  “Good guess.”

  He looks out a window, then back at me.

  “Anyway, while I’m confessing my sins, I’ll tell you something else.”

  “What?”

  “I was using you a little. See, I was hoping that you’d kill Geoff Burgess.”

  I take a step forward and stare down at him. He looks uncomfortable.

  “I’d feel much better if you sat down.”

  “I’m fine where I am.”

  He raps his knuckles nervously on his knee a couple of times.“Understand, Elsa was taking a big risk feeding me information about Geoffrey and the others. I think you’re a good person underneath this image you put out to people, but you do have a habit of . . .”

  “Of what?”

  “Flying off the handle. I couldn’t risk my sister’s safety.”

  “You’d have left me out there with all Wormwood after me. You fed me just enough information to hang myself.”

  “No. I would never have done that.”

  I check his eyes. What do you know? It looks like he’s telling the truth.

  He says, “I’m not just the augur, remember. I’m a seer. I saw all this coming. I knew you’d find out. Don’t you think I could have done something about today if I knew that you’d be coming to me in this frame of mind?”

  “You think you know my frame of mind?”