“You tell Chastain that if he doesn’t see me right now I’ll go downstairs to the casino and raise the kind of hell that will bring the cops. You hear me?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask security to escort you off the premises,” the receptionist said. He nodded to one of the guards. “Immediately.”
“I’m not leaving until I see Chastain.”
Nick started forward. “What’s going on here?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” The receptionist turned toward him. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
The young man’s head came up sharply. “Chastain. Goddamnit, who the hell do you think you are to treat my sister as if she were your latest mistress?”
“You must be Leo.”
“You got that much right.” Leo bounded up onto the reception desk, leaped to the floor on the far side, and launched himself at Nick.
Chapter
15
* * * * * * * * * *
Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Feather move to intercept the charging Leo. The guard rounded the desk. The receptionist got to his feet and started to press a concealed button that would bring more assistance.
It all happened in less than two seconds, but to Nick’s senses, sharpened by his matrix-talent instincts, every action was a clear distinct event in the total matrix. He sorted it all out and made his decision.
“No,” he said softly.
With the exception of Leo, everyone in the hall froze as if they had been trapped in a deposit of jelly-ice.
Leo crashed into Nick, swinging his fist wildly. The force of the impact sent both of them to the thickly carpeted floor.
“Damn you.” Leo scrambled awkwardly to his feet. Breathing heavily, he stood looking down at Nick. His face was twisted with rage. His fists were clenched at his side. “I won’t let you use her, you bastard. She’s taken enough bat-snake shit from guys like you.”
Nick rose on one elbow and absently touched the edge of his mouth. When he glanced at his fingers he saw blood. He looked up at Leo.
“You want to talk about this in private?” he asked. “Or would you rather have all these nice people listen to us discuss your sister and her reputation?”
Leo scowled. He glanced hurriedly around and saw the watchful faces of Feather, the guards, and the receptionist. He flushed and turned back to Nick. “Why don’t you sic your goons on me?”
“I don’t employ goons.” Nick got slowly to his feet, careful to keep a pragmatic distance between Leo and himself. “These folks are all highly skilled professionals.”
“Yeah, right.” Leo looked a little uncertain now. Common sense had obviously started to reassert itself. It was clear that he was no longer sure how to proceed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with my sister?”
Good question, Nick thought. He wished he knew the answer. All he could be sure of this morning was that he did not want to have to do without her. At least not yet. Maybe not for a long time.
The knowledge made him more than uneasy. It worried him as nothing else had for a long time. Last night, after he had surfaced from the pool of desire in which he had been submerged, he had finally recognized the nature of the danger in which he found himself.
Where Zinnia was concerned, he was deep into a new uncharted matrix. He had to be careful. He had to remain in control.
“Let’s go into my office.” He did not glance back as he turned and led the way into the gilded chamber.
Behind him he felt Leo hesitate and then follow. Feather shifted slightly. Nick shook his head.
“It’s okay. I don’t think he’s going to hit me again. Are you, Leo?”
“Depends,” Leo muttered. He walked through the door and gazed around the red, black, and gilded chamber with an expression of acute amazement. “Sheesh. I guess it’s sort of obvious that you and Zinnia don’t have a lot in common when it comes to taste.” He glared at Nick. “Or anything else for that matter.”
“Your sister is an adult.” Nick pressed the hidden switch to open the secret panel. “Why don’t you let her make her own decisions?”
“Most of the time Zinnia is good at figuring out people.” Leo stepped warily into the concealed office. “But you’re a matrix.”
“She told you that?” Nick crossed the room to open the door of the small private bath.
“Yeah.”
Nick studied his cut lip in the mirror over the sink. A thin trickle of blood coursed down his chin. He turned on the water. “What does my being a matrix-talent have to do with anything?”
“Are you serious? Being a matrix is bad enough. But on top of everything else, Zinnia’s got a soft spot in her heart for matrix-talents.” Leo began to pace the room. “She feels sorry for them. Thinks they’re delicate and misunderstood. Lord knows why.”
Nick looked at his own reflection. The eyes that stared back at him could have belonged to a ghost. Whatever it was he wanted from Zinnia, it was definitely not pity.
He leaned over the sink to rinse the blood from his mouth. “Did your sister tell you that she and I have formed a partnership?”
“Partnership? That’s shit synergy and you know it.” Leo leveled a finger at him. “Guys like you don’t form partnerships, especially not with women like Zinnia. You use people.”
Nick finished washing off the blood and snagged a towel. “What do you know about men like me?”
“You’re a matrix-talent and you run a casino. That says it all as far as I’m concerned. Look, I came here to tell you to leave my sister alone.”
“Why don’t you tell her to leave me alone?”
“I tried doing that.” Leo grimaced. “But she’s made up her mind to find out who killed Morris Fenwick and she believes that you can help her. The problem is that once Zinnia decides to do something, it’s almost impossible to talk her out of it. She’s got a stubborn streak.”
Nick smiled ruefully. “I’ve noticed.”
“You seduced her last night, didn’t you? You took her to the old Garrett estate and you took advantage of her.”
“I took her to the new Chastain estate, not the old Garrett estate.”
“Damn it, I don’t care what you call it. I know how you got your hands on that mansion. It will always be the old Garrett estate as far as people in this town are concerned. That’s not the point. I’m talking about what you did to my sister.”
“Did Zinnia tell you that I seduced her?”
“She won’t discuss it.” Leo stalked back and forth. “Says it’s none of my business. She thinks she can handle you. But I saw today’s edition of Synsation. And so did just about everyone else in New Seattle. It was pretty obvious what you’d done to her.”
“I’m sorry about the picture in the paper.” Nick tossed the towel into the hamper. “I tried to prevent it.”
“She told me that you took the film out of the photographer’s camera, but obviously you didn’t. You probably lied to her.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Damned if I know.” Leo shrugged. “You’re a matrix. Who the hell knows how you think? Maybe it suits your purposes to have her name linked with yours. Maybe you’ve decided it’s a way to ensure her cooperation in this so-called partnership. My guess is you need her to help you find that journal you’re after.”
“Not a bad conspiracy theory.” Nick switched off the bathroom light and walked to the desk. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a touch of matrix-talent, yourself.”
“Look, I want you to leave my sister alone, Chastain. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Nick halted in front of the desk and leaned back against the edge. He braced his hands on either side and waited until Leo looked at him. “But you just told me, yourself, that there’s no stopping Zinnia once she makes up her mind to do something.”
“She was always independent.” Leo’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “But after our parents died, I swear, she developed a will of iron. She was the one who had to handle the bankrup
tcy and the bad press that surrounded it. The rest of the family was worse than useless. Aunt Willy and the others fluttered and fretted and carried on as if the loss of the company was more awful than the loss of Mom and Dad.”
“I see.”
“Most of our relatives went into hiding. They claimed they couldn’t handle the humiliation of it all. It was Zinnia who had to deal with the creditors and the reporters and all the wolf-dogs at the door.”
“That kind of experience can either make or break a person.”
“Yeah, and that wasn’t the end of it. A year and a half ago she got dragged into another mess.”
“The Eaton scandal.”
Leo stopped near a wall and slammed his palm against it. “The Eatons used her to hide the fact that they were involved in a three-way sex thing with a Founders’ Values politician named Daria Gardener. The papers made it look as if Zinnia had been having an affair with Rexford Eaton. It was all a lie.”
“The Eatons in a menage-a-trois with Daria Gardener? Interesting.” Nick filed that fact away for later analysis. During the last election Gardener had tried to use Chastain’s Palace as an example of the sort of business she intended to clean up in New Seattle.
“And now the family has the gall to put pressure on Zinnia to marry money. They don’t care about her happiness. All they care about is regaining their position in society.”
Nick listened to the old anger spill forth. Leo’s rage vibrated in the air. The punch in the jaw a few minutes ago was not just the result of seeing the photo in today’s issue of Synsation. It was the culmination of several years of a younger brother’s simmering frustration over his own inability to protect his sister.
“Leo, I understand what you’re telling me. I know you want to take care of Zinnia. So do I. But as you said, she’s set on finding Fenwick’s killer. That could be a dangerous business.”
Leo whirled around. “For God’s sake, don’t you think I know that?”
“You just admitted that you can’t convince her to abandon the project. The next best thing you can do is make sure she’s got someone around who can keep an eye on her. Someone who can make sure that she doesn’t get in over her head.”
Leo shot him a disgusted look. “And that someone is you, I assume?”
“Think about it. As her partner, I’m in the best possible position to look after her. I can control the situation. Take me out of the matrix and you’ll have a lot more to worry about than you do already.”
There was a short fraught silence while Leo processed that.
“Damn.” Leo came to a halt, his hands knotted on his hips. He looked around as if searching for something to kick. “Damn.”
Nick assessed the various possibilities and probabilities. He had enough problems without adding the complications of an enraged, suspicious Leo to the list. His best course was to get the younger man on his side and he needed to establish the alliance quickly.
“Someone just gave me the name of the forger who produced the fake copy of my father’s journal,” Nick said quietly. “I was on my way to talk to him when you showed up. Want to come with me?”
Leo swung around. “Are you serious?”
“Why not? I could use some backup. Just in case.”
Twenty minutes later Leo studied a small nondescript house through the Synchron’s front window. “How do you know that this Alfred Wilkes is the man who forged the journal?”
“The source of my information on this is highly reliable.” Nick opened the door. “You coming?”
“Yeah. I’m coming.” Leo looked wary but determined. He got out of the car and stood waiting as Nick came around the front of the vehicle. “The name on the mailbox is Boyd, not Wilkes. You sure this is the right place?”
“I’m sure. Let’s go.” Nick went up the walk of the house.
“You’re going to just knock on the guy’s door?” Leo asked, incredulous.
“Got a better suggestion?”
“I guess not. But Wilkes must know who you are. Why would he open the door to you?”
“Maybe because he’ll be afraid to not open it.” Nick knocked twice and waited.
There was no response.
“See?” Leo looked morosely satisfied. “I told you he wouldn’t answer.”
“Let’s go around back.”
“Huh? Wait. What are you going to do?”
Nick did not bother to respond. He walked quickly around the corner, down the narrow space that separated Wilkes’s house from its neighbors, and arrived at a small, tidy backyard. Leo followed, looking more uneasy than ever.
He stood watching as Nick studied the door. “Look, if you’re thinking of breaking in or something, you can count me out.”
“All right. Wait for me in the car.” Nick examined the lock as he pulled the thin driving gloves out of his pocket. He was interested to see that the mechanism was much more sophisticated than most jelly-ice house locks.
But it was still child’s play for a matrix-talent whose every instinct was to seek out patterns. Even without a prism to focus for him, Nick had no problem with locks. He pulled on the gloves and set to work.
Leo made no move to return to the car. He stood watching, first with sharp concern and acute disapproval and then with gathering curiosity and fascination as Nick made short work of the lock’s secrets.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” he asked as Nick opened the back door.
“I had what some would call a misspent youth.”
“Yeah, I’ll just bet you did.”
Nick stepped into the kitchen. “Feel that?”
“Feel what?” Leo glanced around at the pristine interior. “Something wrong?”
“I don’t know yet. Don’t touch anything.”
“Believe me, I wasn’t going to touch a damned thing.”
“Good.” Nick walked through the house the same way he had once walked through the jungles of the Western Islands, with every sense on full alert. The feeling of wrongness was strong, but there was no outward sign of it.
“Looks like Wilkes is a perfectionist to a fault,” Leo observed in a subdued voice as he glanced into the small bathroom. “A place for everything and everything in its place.”
It was true, Nick thought. Each of the rooms in the single-story house was in painstakingly neat condition. He noted absently that there was a pattern to the order of everything from the way in which the books were shelved to the arrangement of the furniture. Taken as a whole, it all formed a coherent matrix that spoke volumes about Alfred Wilkes.
There was no sign of the owner of the house. But the sense of wrongness persisted.
“Maybe he’s out grocery shopping,” Leo suggested.
“I don’t think so.” Nick sent out a short surge of talent.
Without a prism he could not hold a focus. But he could use the wild energy long enough to catch some glimpses of the internal workings of the patterns that surrounded him.
For a few seconds the scene around him came into exquisitely sharp focus. The position of every item in the room assumed a deeper significance.
Too neat. Too orderly. The condition of the house was too perfect, even for an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist. Nobody lived in these rooms. This was a forgery of a real house.
Realization came to Nick as his flickering talent dissipated. He looked up. “There’s no attic, so there must be a basement. Look for a door.”
Leo frowned. “I don’t see one.”
“It has to be here somewhere.”
“Not everyone is into secret rooms that way you are, Chastain.”
“Whoever owns this house definitely has another place where he lives and works.” Nick walked slowly back through each of the perfect little rooms.
He found no telltale lines in the walls, no secret doors inside the closets. Together he and Leo pulled up the area rugs, but there was no trapdoor in the floor.
“The rooms where Wilkes really lives have to be here somewhere. Stonebraker
is never wrong when it comes to this kind of stuff.” Nick reached the kitchen and stood gazing at the various appliances. “Notice anything missing?”
Leo glanced around. “Nope. Looks like a normal kitchen.”
“Except for one thing. The icerator isn’t humming.”
Leo looked at the large white appliance in the far corner. “You’re right. Maybe he turned it off.”
“Or maybe he uses it for something besides keeping food cold.” Nick walked across the kitchen and opened the icerator door.
There were no shelves or containers of food inside. The interior was at room temperature. At the back of the wide appliance was the thin, almost invisible outline of a door.
Nick reached into the icerator and shoved hard against the back panel. It swung open without protest to reveal a flight of steps.
Leo whistled soundlessly. “Five hells. How did you guess?”
“You’ve seen one hidden entrance, you’ve seen ’em all. Ready?”
“Yeah. I hate to admit it, but this is getting interesting.”
“It does kind of grow on you.” Nick stepped into the icerator.
Leo followed quickly.
Halfway down the basement steps, Nick knew that he had found the real house, the place where Alfred Wilkes lived and plied his trade.
There was another complete apartment here, including kitchen, bath, and bedroom. But most of the downstairs suite was devoted to what was obviously a workroom.
And it was a shambles.
Leo whistled softly. “Synergistic hell.”
Benches, racks of chemicals, tools, reams of paper, and various instruments were scattered around the room. Drawers stood open, their contents in jumbled disarray. A lamp lay smashed on the floor.
Nick studied the scene closely. Superficially, it bore a striking resemblance to Morris Fenwick’s ransacked bookshop. But there was something different about the matrix pattern of this mess. Unlike the other situation, which had struck him as a completely random piece of vandalism, this bore the subtle earmarks of a frantic but deliberate search.
“Someone really tore this place apart.” Leo sounded shaken.
“The question is, did he find whatever it was that he was looking for.” Nick crouched down to study some papers scattered on the floor.