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Crowley headed back to the hotel, first along East 60th Street, heading for the south end of Central Park. The road wasn’t too busy, the foot traffic thin. He passed a woman with a shopping cart, muttering to herself, wrapped up in three or four coats. He offered a smile as she passed, and the woman gasped, stopped to stare. Her dirty face was intense, dark eyes glittering in the streetlights.
“What is it?” Crowley asked. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, I’m just fine. But you’re not, are you.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m not?”
The woman leaned forward, gaze intensifying. Crowley felt as though she were looking not into his eyes, but through them, her gaze searing his soul. “You’re marked,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there are clouds about you. Shadows and clouds, darkness binding you, wrapping you up!”
Crowley swallowed, licked suddenly dry lips. He had nothing to say to that. He wasn’t even sure what she meant.
The woman nodded as though he had told her he understood her words. “Watch your back, young man. And beware the knife.”
“O... okay. I will. Thank you.” It felt weird to thank her, but there was a weight to her warning that he couldn’t ignore.
The woman continued on her way. Crowley stood on the sidewalk for a moment. He’d barely recovered from the adrenaline rush of his close shave at the Grolier Club, now this strange woman had him worked up again. He glanced back and startled slightly to see her standing on the corner, staring back at him. She lifted one hand and made a throat-cutting gesture with it, then wagged her index finger once left, once right. As Crowley’s mouth fell open, she turned and pushed her cart around the corner and disappeared from sight.
“Holy hell,” Crowley whispered to himself. “This is one weird night.”
It was nearly two in the morning, and all he wanted was to collapse into a warm bed and nestle up close to Rose. He hoped she wasn’t too cranky with him for doing this job alone. But he had been successful, so surely she would be happy about that. He carried on and was about to turn left onto 5th Avenue, right at the southeast corner of Central Park, when a man crossed the street towards him. Crowley recognized him immediately.
“Matthew Price!” he said in surprise. “You’re out very late.”
“Oh, ah, Jake. Well, so are you.”
There was an awkward moment while Crowley tried to think what on earth he could say to the man without sounding like a fool. Price’s cheeks were flushed like he’d enjoyed a few drinks, but his eyes were bright. Even his skin seemed to glow somehow, and Crowley realized it was because the man appeared to have a fewer wrinkles than the last time they’d met. Surely Crowley was imagining that.
“I went out to catch up with an old pal,” Crowley said. “We ended up talking and drinking far later than I expected.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s not often you get to see people here, so make the most of it, eh?”
“My sentiments exactly. I hope Rose won’t be too angry with me for staying out.”
“Surely she’s asleep by now. If you sneak in quietly enough, she need never know. She’ll be dead to the world.”
Crowley frowned at Price’s choice of words. The man seemed gleeful in a way Crowley couldn’t quite reconcile. Perhaps he was drunk. “What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?” Price asked.
“You’re out late too.”
“Ah, yes. Well, when one reaches my age, it’s sometimes hard to sleep. I find that a brisk walk around the outskirts of the park is better than staring up at the ceiling in the dark.”
“That makes sense. Nice to bump into you, but I’d better be getting along.”
“And you. I’ve been so busy lately, which is probably half the reason I can’t sleep. And I’ve been neglecting your aunt. I’ll have to make things up with Trudy when my business calms down again.”
“I’m sure she understands,” Crowley said. “Rose and I had a nice dinner with her just this evening, in fact. She’s well.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Now, you’d better get home to bed!”
“See you soon, I hope.”
Price smiled. “Oh, I hope so too.”
Crowley turned and headed south along 5th Avenue, discomforted by the meeting. He didn’t buy the insomnia excuse at all. He glanced back and saw Price watching. The old man raised a hand in farewell, and Crowley returned the gesture. He continued on and glanced back again a few paces later, but Price was out of sight. Crowley paused, a smile tugging at his lips.
... a brisk walk around the outskirts of the park...
If he were making a circuit of the park, Crowley should be able to see him heading north up 5th Avenue. But it seemed Price had continued east. And if that were the case, could he be heading towards the Grolier Club, perhaps? Crowley turned back and ran up to the corner he had just left. Sure enough, there was Price, halfway along the block heading towards the Club.
Crowley pulled Jerkwad’s phone from his pocket and, hiding in the shadows of the corner, he tapped to call the only number in the phone’s memory. After a couple of seconds, Price patted his jacket pocket and then pulled out his own phone. The call was answered.
“Hello?” Price said into Crowley’s ear. “Where have you been? Hello?”
Price pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it as if staring might answer the mystery for him. With a smile, Crowley hung up and pocketed the purloined phone again. He turned back and resumed his walk back to the hotel.