A Passing Curse (2011) (49 page)

“No? Well, I wouldn’t worry, then. I hear Ajax is a helluva nice guy.”

Ajax greeted the caterer warmly. Paul Rene” had originally worked as a chef in Hollywood before opening a restaurant in Santa Barbara. Ajax guessed that the man standing in front of him, a pert little thing dressed in a black silk smock, would do an admirable job for the governor’s party.

“You have the gift baskets ready?” Ajax asked.

“Absolutely. They’re filled with the chocolate liqueurs, caviar, foie gras, facial cream, perfume, and other small gifts.”

“Will your employees have time?” He could hear the men putting up the party decorations. There were vast murals of the Andes, blue skies and snow capped peaks, pasted to the walls. A small heard of straw llamas with flower hats congregated in front of the fireplace. “The guests will be arriving at eight.”

“Everything will be ready,” the precious little man assured him. “The first course is coconut shrimp. The finest shrimp from up north. I personally inspected it.”

“And you are staying to see everything runs smoothly? It’s very important that the governor is happy. If the governor is happy then I will be happy.”

“Absolutely everyone will be happy. Or what is the point?” the man said and clapped his hands together with a bit too much exuberance, Ajax thought.

Rusty decided that Ajax, waiting for her in front of the cavernous front door, looked fresher, stronger than he had yesterday. He was again dressed in a brilliant black suit, but his hair was blacker and slicker than yesterday. He had, it seemed, put himself back together. “Thank you for coming,” he said graciously. “I could not stand for there to be any misunderstanding between us.”

She smiled but said nothing. There had not been a guard in the brick kiosk and now the guard who had brought her was driving back down the hill. Was she alone with Ajax? And Ted? Don’t forget Ted. She heard hammering inside the house and asked, “Having your office repaired?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m having a party. The governor and his wife. A few other friends. I’m counting on you being there.”

“The Governor of California?”

“You will stay?”

She wasn’t staying a minute longer than necessary. She’d get her tools, her check, and get back to the hotel. Then find Reese and make sure he was all right. Convince him to quit trying to kill himself. Convince him to quit trying to kill Ajax. And why was Ajax acting like nothing had happened?

“I have nothing to wear,” she said.

“I’ll have a few things sent from Santa Barbara. Size eight, isn’t it?”

She hesitated. It was not every day she had to ponder attending a party with a possible homicidal maniac and a governor. She walked past Ajax, through the foyer, and stood at the entrance to the great hall.

A half dozen workers were busy putting up furls of blue silk and colored lights. Two workers positioned a huge ice sculpture that looked like a frozen donkey. “Size eight,” she said absently.

“Basic black, strapless. I’ll have them send pearls. Mikimoto, the black ones. You’ll look fantastic, I think.” He motioned her to follow him through a side door. “I hope you’re hungry.”

They went down a long hallway covered in red wallpaper. She could barely smell yesterday’s fire, a hint of burned rubber. “You fixed the water heater?”

“They’re dangerous without the proper maintenance,” Ajax replied.

“Thanks for helping,” she said, finding it hard now to credit him for saving her life. Last night she’d goaded Reese about Ajax’s bravery, but if Ajax had saved her, what was he saving her for? As she followed him, she remembered that before he’d dragged her out of the burning room, she’d asked him about Romania. Or had she? Jesus, her mind was a sieve. Maybe Ajax was drugging her.

“Think nothing of it. Water heaters can be pesky affairs.” He led her down a spiral staircase and into a large kitchen.

“Darned pesky,” she agreed with him. The kitchen floor was bleached oak planks, kitchen cabinets lacquered green. The granite island was set for two people, the plates surrounded with platters of fresh fruits and bread. A dozen huge party baskets were being fussed over by a small man with short black hair and hazel eyes rimmed in azure make-up.

She noted the wood block holding an assortment of Henkel cooking knives. Future reference if she had to cut her way out of here. The jade whale was in her pocket, but it might be ridiculous to blow it in Ajax’s face, especially if it did no more than get a laugh from her ex-boss.

Ajax said to the small man, “How are things coming, Rene’?”

“It is wonderful,” the little thing gushed. “Eight o’clock will be a fine time to start. I have hired a band of Peruvian singers and dancers, do you mind? Their sound is simply exquisite. Mountain music. The straw llamas and the llama ice sculpture will add to the overall tableaux.”

“Whatever you think,” Ajax said dismissively. He seemed distracted as he poured her a cup of coffee. “There’s plenty to eat, Penelope.”

“I’ve already had breakfast,” she said and sat down. She drank the coffee. It tasted fresh. No hint of poison. The notion that Ajax had been drugging her made her smile. Reese saw conspiracies everywhere.

“Have you considered the offer I made?” he said to her. “About staying on as my assistant? It’s a lot of money.”

“I don’t think we’d be compatible,” she said, and that was being kind. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair, since I’ve already decided not to search for Alexander. I just - ”

“What?”

“I told you that I wanted to teach. Remember? Anyway, when you start the expedition, feel free to use my paper for reference. Consider it yours. You paid for it.”

Ajax looked away from her. He told Rene”, “Do you mind checking on the workers? Make sure they flatten the mural properly. No wrinkles.” The fussy man saluted and left. Ajax sat next to her. His hands were creamy white, like freshly-sheared lamb, gone was the dead chalkiness of yesterday.

“Is it my age?” he asked. “I am older, but when you consider the freedom you will have.”

“I already have my freedom,” she said. Was this a marriage proposal?

“More than freedom. You will have anything you want, Penelope. Money will cease to have meaning. As for the difference in age, I can cite any number of relationships that have worked when the man is older.”

“You have my check?” she asked, but he was not listening to her. He was somewhere else. She regretted coming. It was time to leave, check or no check. No. She was going to get her money.

“You won’t need money. What is mine will be yours. I’m speaking of time. Many lifetimes. Many lives.”

She ate a pineapple wedge. It definitely sounded like a marriage proposal. “I can’t marry you. Sorry, but if you’d be kind enough to call a cab, I’ll load my tools in the trunk. And the money. A thousand will clear us.”

“A thousand?” Ajax shook his head. “Think of the fortune you’re giving up. A thousand is a pittance, a mere nothing. I am talking about your future, its unlimited possibilities.”

“I’d just like to see the thousand.”

“Before you leave.”

“I’m leaving now,” she said. “And give my regrets to the governor. I hear he is a swell guy. A very honest man. I didn’t vote for him, anyway. Sorry.”

Ajax seemed to have drifted off. “Did you say marry?” He smiled. “I was speaking of something much more permanent and deeper than marriage. Besides we’re already married. I thought you knew.”

She thought he’d said they were already married, but she must have misheard him. “Are we talking mistress?” She really could not believe this. It was too much and almost, if not for the circumstances, laughable.

“I was not thinking of sex.”

“I’m leaving.” She started to get up.

“Not at first,” he said and reached over with his white hands. “When we are ready to begin the sex ritual, I personally guarantee it will be a timeless experience.”

She snatched her arm away. It was definitely time to go. She looked at the Henkel knives a step away. Ajax wouldn’t be so smarmy wearing an eight inch chef’s knife in his button hole.

“I insist that you stay for the party. The governor will be charmed to meet you.” Ajax laughed. A dry cackle. “But don’t mention you didn’t vote for him, he can be an awful bore.”

She tried to stand, but the floor dropped away. She watched her body fall. Ajax laughed politely to himself. She sped on her way. She put her hands out to soften the fall but they went through the floor and she kept speeding along. The coffee. He’d spiked the coffee. She laughed when she realized that he was never going to pay her.

The iron gate did not roll open this time. Reese left the engine running while he pushed the buzzer. He heard static over the speaker but nothing else. He pushed the button three times and still nothing happened. The brick shack was empty. He pushed the buzzer twice more. He waved at the camera and mouthed, “Let me in.” He smiled. “Puh-lease.”

Nothing happened. The gate, with its wrought-iron adornments and cross pieces, would be easy to climb. He wondered if the large cables running into the pillars were just for opening the gate. He picked up a small branch from the side of the road and prodded the iron. Nothing. No sparks. Not even a buzz.

She broke the surface of a dark lake. Vast was the word for it. She swam through black water. On the far shore Reese waved. She told him to stay put, but he dove in and swam to her. She screamed at him to stay back.

She screamed herself awake. She was on her back.

The light above her glared. She tried to move, but her arms were crossed, strapped to opposite sides. Her ankles were tied down. She had two inches of movement in her arms and maybe three inches for each ankle. An ether taste in her mouth.

The room was large, twenty feet square, the walls painted green. Long florescent bulbs hung above her in slotted covers. Green medical cupboards with glass doors covered one wall, the shelves filled with boxes of tape and gauze, syringes and needles. Turkey basters and a pair of garden shears lay on a counter, guarded by a single champagne bottle.

The door opened. Ted came in quick as a crab and scratched her foot. He giggled. Ajax came in and hit him in the kidney, a short left hook. “Go,” Ajax said.

Ted groaned but kept grinning. His teeth glistened with saliva. He had a large bandage pasted above his ear, an Angels’ ball cap pulled crookedly over the bandage.

“Get out,” Ajax said and then, “Did you send the package? Are they picking it up?”

Ted mumbled, “Yes,” and Ajax pushed him out the door. Ajax smiled down at her. “How are you feeling?” He carried a small black bag, like a jovial doctor on a house call. “Comfortable?”

She strained against the straps and swiveled her head. A television hung from a bracket on the wall. Her equipment was stacked in the corner. “Comfortable?” She pulled against the cuffs, lined with what looked like lamb’s wool, already bloody.

“Please,” he warned. “Don’t struggle. You’ll hurt yourself. You’re already chaffed.”

She whipped and twisted and tried to tip the table over, but the legs were attached to the floor. Whatever he had given her in the coffee was making her sick. She blinked to clear the fog from her eyes.

Ajax watched coolly, clinically. She felt like an insect on a pin.

Calm down, she thought. Save energy. Stall him. “Reese is coming,” she said. “Not every one is asleep in this town.” She’d been asleep, herself, falling for a move like drugging the coffee. Jesus. It was such a stupid little trick, a kid’s trick, way below what she’d expected from a billionaire. And it wasn’t the first time.

Ajax sat on the edge of the bed and rummaged through the black bag. “I really like that boy.”

“That boy is going to kill you.”

He slowly screwed a large needle into the end of a glass syringe. With deliberate and practiced movements, he pulled a cotton swab from the bag, doused it with alcohol from a plastic jar, and rubbed the crook of her arm. “I wouldn’t want you to get infected.”

She tried to pull away. He grabbed her wrist. His sudden strength scared her.

“Don’t struggle,” he warned. “I might leave a bruise. You already have some nice ones.”

“You,” she said, but let her arm hang loose. No sense struggling. Save your strength. When he put the needle in she turned her head. He’d been taking blood all along, drugging her first with tranquilizers, no doubt. Reese had been right. How could she have been so stupid? Greed and stupidity. The thought of finding Alexander’s tomb had steered her course, steered her beyond common sense.

When he drew back the plunger, the syringe turned red black and she felt sick. He used gauze to withdraw the needle and fastened the gauze to her arm with a small patch of tape. “Just like the real doctors do it,” he said and laughed a little too loudly. “Oh, I almost forgot. I am a real doctor.” He laid the syringe on the table and patted her hand. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

She tried to spit in his face but her mouth was too dry.

“The way you collapsed at breakfast you may have an iron deficiency,” he said and inspected the syringe. “I’ll check your blood. I have the ability to do a full CBC. The hematacrit, the hemoglobin, white blood cells.” He chuckled. “One of many extras for my guests.”

“You drugged me. The coffee.” She looked around. She needed a knife, a weapon. She needed one hand loose. “Isn’t that a bit juvenile? Even for you? Like spiking the punch at the prom.”

He looked contrite. “The prom?”

“The bruises,” she said, “you’ve taken blood before.”

“I’m surprised you remember. I apologize. It was juvenile. But I had no choice. You see, I rely on the drugs, now. Once I could control minds on my own. I had more power, but I’m going fast.” He looked almost philosophical. “It’s very strange - this weakness.”

“Going fast?”

“Everything comes to an end, eventually. But I’ve planned for the inevitable. Very careful plans.” He pulled a glass tumbler, a shot glass, from his black bag. After removing the needle from the syringe, he emptied her blood into the tumbler. “The bad thing about careful plans is that one mix-up, one fool, can destroy years of work. In this case I had a variety of fools hindering me. Father Ramon, in particular, made a big fuss over finding an Indian in an Indian cemetery. He had to make trouble, not that it matters. He threw off my time-table a bit, but I’m back on track.”