Chapter 9

Jocelyn and Ingrid lived in Georgetown, in one of the old row houses on 38th above the University. I pushed the buzzer on the pebbled glass and wrought iron door. A voice came over the intercom. “Yes?”

“This is Leo Haggerty. Lester Kroll, uh Count Karoly, called and said I was coming.”

“Step into the vestibule.”

The door clicked. I turned the handle and stepped into an airlock foyer. The door behind me locked again. A ceiling camera scanned me like a lab animal. “Roll up your sleeve.”

I did and rolled my elbow over. The nasty keloid horseshoe was slick and rubbery. Courtesy of a twelve-year-old’s rainy day handlebar header into a culvert.

“Unlock the door.”

I stepped into another foyer. Ingrid, I presumed, stood halfway up the stairs. Her round face was without edges or bones, streaked blond hair piled on her head like a soft golden ice cream cone. Her eyes were lavender and as direct as lasers.

“Are you one of the count’s cronies?” Her slightest sneer tipped the scales, and I let the truth tumble out.

“Not by a long shot. He owes me a favor. That’s why he told me how to find you, or rather, Jocelyn.”

“What kind of favor?” Hands on hip.

“One time I didn’t bring his whole house down when I could have.”

“Too bad. What do you want with Jocelyn?”

“I’m a private detective, looking for a missing person. I believe Jocelyn once knew a man who can lead me to that person.”

She didn’t look impressed. “How do you know that?”

“I understand that she was hurt once by a man. Beaten up. It’s that man I want to find.”

“Good bye, Mr. Haggerty. We have nothing to discuss.” She turned abruptly and began to climb the stairs.

“Wait a minute. Hold on. I don’t know what happened back then, but there could be lives at stake here. Children’s lives.”

Ingrid turned slowly and spoke slower still. “There is a life at stake here, Mr. Haggerty. A very painfully rebuilt life. One whose core your questions threaten. I will not let that happen. Leave now.” A Beretta’s round black snout punctuated our discussion. Period. The end.

“Okay, I’ll leave. I don’t know what you are to Jocelyn. You sound like her keeper, not her friend. But I’ll be back. One way or another, I’ll have my talk. You can’t keep the world away forever, and I am persistent. Know that. I don’t want this to be an ordeal. But two small girls’ lives and possibly their father’s ride on my finding the man who I believe hurt your friend. You can stay and watch everything. Christ, I don’t want to hurt your friend at all if I can help it. But she’s the only lead we’ve got, and I just can’t pass it by.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Haggerty. But it’s just not possible. You see—”

“Inky. What’s going on. Who’s here?” A tremulous voice in the dark.

“Jocelyn, my name is Leo Haggerty. I need to talk with you very badly. It’s very important. If I could just have a few minutes of your time.”

Jocelyn came down out of the shadows. She was tall and thin, almost anorectic. She wore a black and white mid-calf skirt and crisp white ironing board blouse with a shoestring tie. Her face was utterly without lines and almost entirely covered with makeup, a white pancake with splotches of color. Her video blond hair, now black, fell on her shoulders like rain. She stepped slowly down the stairs, past Ingrid, who put a hand on her shoulders. “You don’t want to talk to this man, Jocelyn. He wants to talk about that night.”

“Miss—I don’t know your name.”

“Drake.”

“Miss Drake, I don’t want to cause you any upset about whatever happened to you, but I do want to know anything about the man who hurt you. It’s terribly important.”

“I really don’t remember anything at all about that night. I’m sure I can’t be of any help.”

“Well, perhaps we don’t need to talk about that night. Had you ever been with that man before?”

“Really Jocelyn, you know this isn’t good for you.” Ingrid’s grip grew tighter on Jocelyn’s shoulder. If looks could kill, she’s have been the gorgon of Georgetown.

Jocelyn looked up, “Yes. You’re right. Go away. That’s my past. It’s over. I don’t want to talk about it. I just don’t care. Leave me alone. All of you.”

“You can’t just walk away from it. It goes with you everywhere. It’s why you’re holed up in this house. Whoever hurt you will hurt others. I think he already has, and I’m trying to stop that before it goes on and there are more scared people like you who’s lives he’s played havoc with.”

She turned on the staircase and bent at the waist, her white knuckled hands gripped the railing. Through clenched teeth the words fell out slowly, like bricks of despair. “Leave me be. Go away. I have forgotten that night. It’s all gone. I can’t go back there. I won’t.” Ingrid looked ready to gut and filet me.

“You let the bastard win then. You may be alive, but you ain’t livin’.”

“Don’t you say that. You don’t know. I’m doing all the living I can.”

“He’s got you holed up in this dark corner of the world, and he walks in the sunlight.”

“Who cares about the sunlight?” she barked hoarsely. “That’s my price for living. Don’t you know? That’s why he let me live. He fixed me good.” She put her hand to her face and when it came away, so did her left eye. She held it out to me. “That’s why I’m alive. Here. Take it, you bastard. It’s my good one.”

It was hard to look at her lopsided face. “Please help me bring him down. Before he does this to anyone else. Fight back. If you couldn’t then, do it now.”

She slipped the eye back in. “It’s too late. Don’t you see, it’s too late. I have my life. It’s what I have. I won’t upset that for anyone. Not even your guilt trip. It’s all I have left. I escaped. I’m alive. It’s what he left me. What he gave me. I don’t have anything else. I escaped my past, my memories. They’re gone, thank God.” She sat down on the steps. Her legs were in the light, her face in my shadows.

“There’s nothing to fight for. This is what he left me with. He took everything else that night. Everything. You say fight. I fought. I begged. I pleaded. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He did what he wanted.”

She slowly stood up. “Don’t you tell me how much living I’m doing. You don’t know what it took to get this far. Well, I’m not giving this up for nobody. Nobody. I’m sorry. I’d really like to help, but I can’t. I really can’t, mister. It just takes too much, and I don’t have it left to give. I’m all used up.”

“All right. I’ll go. If we find him and catch him, do you want to know? I’ll let you know. I promise.”

“I don’t know. Just let me be. Go.”

I went back to my car. My brain felt like whipped shit. I was going to have to tell DeVito about her. He might not get anything more from her, and he might do her more harm than good. And then again, he might get a lead that would save a life. And then if we knew how things would turn out we’d all live forever.

Most of us die in little pieces, our illusions go first, then our dreams, then our stamina, and we just come to a halt. For some, death visits in a firestorm and there’s no time to accommodate, to make the best of it. If the blasted stump survives at all, blackened and twisted, the shape it takes is usually beyond control. If you’re lucky, life is a holding action. Cutting our losses, pruning back what we’ve lost to preserve what we’ve got. There’s no way out but through. First the bad news. Then the good news. While it’s a hell of a trip, straight ahead is the shortest route.

I pulled my collar up and slid into the car. I had no place to go. Nobody to see but my office. I drove to a phone booth and called my answering service. Maggie Saunders had called. Twice. I ought to check in with her. She probably shouldn’t be alone at this time. I dialed her number.

“Hello, Mrs. Saunders?”

“Yes.” Her voice was tight with anticipation.

“This is Leo Haggerty. I’d like to stop by and fill you in on my progress and ask a few more questions, if it’s not too late.”

“Please do. No, it’s not too late.” She laughed bitterly, “I hope it’s not at least.”

“I’ll be there in about half an hour, okay?”

“Fine, Mr. Haggerty, have you eaten, by the way?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Would you care to eat here? I hate to eat alone. Frankly, I’ve done that too often in my life.”

“Thank you. That would be very nice.”

“What do you like?”

“Anything and everything. I’ll see you shortly.”

Hanging up I looked up at the late afternoon sky. When I was young I’d lie on the front lawn and look up at the twinkling darkness and try to imagine the universe’s end beyond the stars. And then what was outside that and when that ended, what was there and so on without end. I remembered a friend of mine showing me that if you put two mirrors facing each other and looked into the infinite regress of your image, just as you are about to behold infinity your head gets in the way. We’re God’s idiot children in quarantine here. Just on the cusp of consciousness, evolved enough to ask the right questions, but unable to grasp the answers.