“I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas.”
In college I was thrown out of class by a professor, who’d obviously only gone to college to avoid the Vietnam War, for arguing that Eliot was saying he wished his life had been different, that a crab at the bottom of the ocean would have had a better life than his own. This professor, he wouldn’t hear it, and I wouldn’t shut up about it, so I got tossed.
North of the city, I was allowed admittance into a secret group of cannibals merely for reciting this line that got me booted from class all those years ago. And the thing is, I don’t know if I was right in college, but that’s what I got out of it, and now, walking down that long hall, preparing myself for what would undoubtedly be a life-defining evening, I wished I was that pair of ragged claws.
Dick had given me directions to the warehouse. “Walter says you’ve obviously learned enough to know not to cause problems,” he’d said. Turns out the place was in Butler County, about twenty minutes from the summer camp I used to work for. Or, the summer camp that one of my past selves used to work for…
I was late, but not by much, and I looked excellent in my black suit, the only suit I’d ever owned, a beautiful tailored black thing my parents had bought for me three months before their funeral. It had been the only time I’d worn it. I looked excellent in my suit and red silk tie, in my jacket that concealed a camelback filled with highly concentrated hydrocyanic acid, its hose running down the inside of the right sleeve.
I used to wear this camelback on long hikes to gigantic climbs in Arizona or West Virginia. I used to drink water from its hose.
Or, someone used to.
Tonight, instead of carrying water to rehydrate my tired body, it carried a weapon I hoped I wouldn’t have to use. It was dangerous, you see. Sure, if I needed to, I could pour a little of it into a wine glass or, if I got desperate, I could spray it all over the face of some asshole who was trying to kill me. But if I got it on myself, well, that would be the end of my story. I didn’t want my story to end. I just wanted it to change.
“Well, well. You clean up quite well, Mr. Eliot.” Synchek offered that weak hand of his, and I shook it, looking him straight in the eye.
“I figured I should dress the part,” I said as I scanned the room for Angela.
“Looking for Angela?” He smiled. “She’s around here somewhere. Check the podium. It’s become one of her favorite hideouts.”
“She hides in the podium?” Actors would call this commitment to a role. I call it being a damned liar.
Synchek laughed. “She’s a unique girl, what can I say?”
“I guess she is. I’m going to go say hello to her, if you don’t mind.” I started walking, but he caught me by the shoulder.
“You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her tonight.” He steered me toward the bar. “For now, let’s get you a glass of wine.”
After a brief encounter with Conicella and Cansellini concluded with the shaking of hands and two business cards going into my wallet, we made it to the bar, where Devereaux, with his shoulders that made me hate him almost as much as my suspicion that he’d killed Virginia, was pouring himself a drink.
Synchek began to play the good host. “Travis, I’d like you to meet –”
“Michael Devereaux,” I cut him off.
He eyed me, but he wasn’t confused. He knew I knew who he was. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
“No. But I think you knew a friend of mine. Virginia?”
“Virginia. Hmmm.”
“Bartender at the Lava Lounge. I think she told me you were a detective or something.” I knew he wasn’t going to deny it, but just to make sure, I added, “She went on and on about your shoulders.” Flattery, as they say, will get you everywhere.
“Oh, right. Virginia. Of course.” He shot a glance to Synchek. “She was, um, friendly.”
I slapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, come on now. No need to be euphemistic about it. We’re all grown men here. You can say ‘easy’. I won’t be offended.”
He gave me an uneasy smile. “Oh. Well, um. I guess she was.”
“I hope you were safe. She’s been with a lot of guys. Come to think of it, I think she was waiting for results from a blood test. I guess some guy she slept with called her, I don’t know, a week or two ago, and told her he was HIV positive.” I couldn’t help myself.
And man, did he go pale. It took everything I had not to laugh at him, even if his reaction did confirm my suspicion that she’d fucked him and lied to me about it. She’d only lied about it to protect me, though, so I guess it was forgivable.
After a moment of standing there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, he shook my hand and excused himself.
Synchek just stood there, and he looked a little worried, so I asked if he was all right.
“Is that true about your friend? Is she HIV positive?”
“Why do you ask?” I poured a glass of wine.
“This might be difficult for you,” he started, and I could tell he wanted to wring his hands, “but she’s, well, she’s dead, unless I’m mistaken.”
I stayed cool, but gave it a hint of sadness. “I know. I work for Dick, remember?”
“Of course. Of course.” He still seemed nervous. “Well I think you should know that she’s… I believe you and Dick brought her here the other night.”
I was impressed by his honesty about it. “Yeah, Walter. It’s ok. I know. And no, there’s nothing to worry about. I was just fucking with Devereaux. See, I sorta had this thing for Virginia, and, well, I guess that was an immature thing to do, but it was just a revenge thing, you know? Just to get back at him for sleeping with her.”
He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was relieved by the way he dropped his shoulders and sighed. “You seem to be handling the death of your friend quite well. I suppose everything went well last night?”
That was a slip-up on his part, the usually pitch-perfect sonofabitch. Maybe he had something on his mind, something that wouldn’t allow him to keep his lies straight, something that had him spinning a little. Whatever it was, he wasn’t supposed to know about last night. “It went pretty well, I guess.”
“What exactly was it you were doing with Gregor? Dick mentioned something about it, but we had no time to go into detail. Some type of tribal ritual, I believe?” Now, I could be wrong about this, but the man sounded genuinely interested in, perhaps even concerned with, how my butchering of Virginia had helped me cope. It didn’t sound like he thought I had anything up my sleeve, as it were.
I told him about the Wari’s funerary ceremony thing. “And I took a little bit home so I could, uh, honor her there. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind, Mr. Eliot. There’s always plenty to spare, which is why we have those styrofoam takeout containers.” He laughed like he thought this was much funnier than it really was.
I started to laugh, but decided it was not at all funny and that Walter and I were well beyond the point in our relationship where I had to pretend such things. We were, after all, planning to kill each other.
Of course, I didn’t know if he knew what was on my mind. So I decided to find out. “So Walter, unless I’m mistaken, I think I’ve seen Mr. Devereaux around quite a bit lately.”
His eyebrows went up – not much, but enough. “Oh?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”
“Are you certain it was him?”
“Come on, Walter. He’s enormous. He’s kind of hard to miss, don’t you think?”
He blinked a few times.
I felt like a parent trying to get his kid to fess up to taking twenty dollars from the nightstand. “Walter…”
“You have to understand, Travis,” he set his wine glass on the bar so he could use his hand to help him speak, “I had to make sure you weren’t trying to go to the authorities or the press.”
I never thought about going to the press, and I was pissed at myself about it. I’d always thought I was a pretty sharp guy.
“I had Mr. Devereaux follow you to make sure our secret was safe. You have to understand, Travis, that you didn’t exactly take to us right away. We were tremendously concerned that you might try something to expose us.”
I liked knowing that I already knew this, but that he was telling me like it was some huge revelation, though I was slightly offended that he thought I wouldn’t be able to understand his motives.
“I guess that makes sense,” I said, doing my best to let a weight fall from my shoulders, or to show the pieces snapping together in my head – some visible sign that I was thinking about it this way for the first time, and it was just now making sense. I should have been an actor.
“I hope you aren’t offended. We were merely being cautious. Also, I feel I should let you know that I am truly sorry about your friend, the gentleman with the long hair. Again, we were merely looking out for ourselves.” He meant it, I think.
I refilled both our glasses. “So, if you’re so sorry about Adam – the long haired kid – what was with the polaroids and the letter?”
He cocked his head. “Excuse me? Polaroids?”
“Yeah. Pictures. Of Adam’s decapitated head.” I really wanted to call him an asshole.
“And a letter?”
“More of a warning, I guess, not to let anyone else know the password.”
He sighed and shook his head. “That would have been Mr. Devereaux. I believe he found out from your friend – Virginia? – that he was a friend of yours. I’m afraid he’s a little, well, irrational sometimes. He was never asked to do that. I hope you believe me.”
I believed him. “Irrational? Seems a little more like psychotic to me.”
“Yes, well…”
He was cut off by Dick, who seemed to have some sort of problem. His face was red, and he was sweating.
Synchek and I both noticed that Dick was, well, out of sorts. I opened a fresh bottle while Synchek reached his arm behind the bar, grabbed a glass for the panting man.
“Are you all right, Dick?” It may have been Synchek who said it, or maybe it was me. I couldn’t tell. I was still stuck in that bizarre, out of body type thing.
Dick sipped the wine, caught his breath, but still said nothing.
“Dick?” I snapped my fingers at him.
He looked at me, then Synchek, then me, then Synchek. “Sorry. I just sort of choked. On a breath mint.”
Dick was a lousy liar.
Walter was surprisingly gullible.
I was, well, I guess it doesn’t really matter.
Synchek raised his glass that inch or two that is almost a toast, but really just an acknowledgement, like nodding at someone instead of actually saying hello. “Oh. Well, it’s good to see you, Richard.”
“Yeah, boss. How was the shop?” I tilted my glass as well.
“Busy. And we seem to be missing a jar of hydrogen cyanide.” He was definitely talking to me.
“Missing a jar of what?” I think I had a problem with my tone on that one. I meant it to sound like I didn’t even know what hydrogen cyanide was, but I think it came out a little too much like I was really concerned about it.
“I’m sure I had Eli order two jars, but there’s only one. We’re almost out after today.” He still didn’t even look at Synchek.
I tried my best. “Well, you know Eli. He was probably too busy being creepy to pay much attention.”
“Maybe. But boy, were we busy today. A lot of old folks. Heart attacks, mostly. One cancer. Two car accidents.” He never looked at Synchek.
But that didn’t matter to the president. “Well, you know, people are just dying to work with you.” He, and only he, laughed at his joke. He noticed as Dick and I rolled our eyes and sipped our wine. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to talk to Mr. Devereaux about those pictures.” And he left.
Dick took his spot, leaning against the bar. “Pictures? Did that jack-ass send you a threatening letter, too?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“That guy’s crazy. We should have kicked him out a long time ago.”
“And by ‘kicked him out’, you mean?”
“Don’t get smart with me about that, Travis.”
“Sorry.”
Dick cleared his throat. “The strangest thing happened on my way here.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I ran into David at the diner down the road.”
“David?”
“My nephew.”
It took everything in me, but I managed to swallow my wine without choking on it. “Dave’s around? I wonder what he’s doing out this way.”
Dick wasn’t fooled, exactly. I think he was just giving me the benefit of the doubt. Still, I suppose he had to make sure. Dave was, after all, this man’s kin. “He said he stopped for a milkshake on his way to some waterfall.”
“Oh, right.” I searched for something. Anything. “McConnell’s Mill is out this way. There’s this waterfall you can go behind. We smoke there with Tommy sometimes.” I was lying, of course. I didn’t know anyone named Tommy, and I don’t think Dave did, either.
“Promise me he’s not – this has nothing to do with you, does it?”
“No, Dick. Nothing to do with me. I swear. Although it is a hell of a coincidence.”
“Yes,” he said. “It is.”
Time to change the conversation. “So that thing with Gregor went well last night. I feel much better about things.”
Dick nodded. “That’s good.” He sipped. “You better not have gotten Dave involved in this.”
I suppose there are those conversations you just can’t change.
“If you got him involved in this,” but he stopped just short of a complete sentence, just short of furious. I think he wanted to threaten me, but then realized that, if I did happen to get Dave involved, threatening me would do nothing to help the situation. Dave would probably die.
And you know Dick. He was really a great guy. He loved his nephew.
I could see it all going through his head. He was putting it together, albeit slowly. And then it registered. You could almost see what was happening slap him in the face.
“What are you up to, Travis?” He was panicked, starting to sweat again.
“Dick. Relax, Dick.”
He looked close to tears. “What are you up to?” This wasn’t really a question.
“Listen.” But I couldn’t think quickly enough to diffuse the situation. My hesitation, I knew, was all the reason Dick needed to know something was about to go down. He wasn’t a total idiot, you know. So what could I do? Choose my own adventure. Mad Lib. I made sure no one could hear. “Listen. Adam and Virginia were Dave’s friends, too. And Dave – I know he smokes a lot of pot, but he’s not stupid. He knew something was up.”
You know how he’d stopped short of furious last time? Well, not this time. “How dare you – I’ll – I’ll –” But he still couldn’t get the threat out.
“Dick, this all has to stop. It’s wrong, and it’s totally fucked up. I mean, eating people that just happen to already be dead is one thing, but people are being murdered. Murdered, Dick.”
There was a commotion. People were seating themselves. I was running behind schedule. I still had to talk to Angela, to get her out of the building. And this thing with Dick, it was dangerous.
“They’re going to kill Dave if they find out about this. He’s going to knock on the door, tell the guy the password, and his name won’t be on the list. Then, they’ll kill him.”
Dick couldn’t take his eyes off the crowd as he tried to figure out what to do. I’d put him in a tight spot, and he knew it. “What are you up to, Travis? What are you up to?” It was all he could get out of his mouth, the poor guy.
I had no choice. I had to tell him. It was either tell him or squirt some of the acid into his wine glass while he was too distracted to notice. Killing him now would be far too detrimental to the rest of my plan. This would only work if I could get everybody at once. So, like I said, I had no choice.
“Ok, Dick, here’s the deal. That missing hydrogen cyanide, it’s in the food. I poisoned it last night while Gregor wasn’t paying attention. Supposedly, it’s really potent stuff, so I’m hoping it will, well, kill everyone in just a few minutes.” A few weeks before, I’d have never believed that anything like this could ever come out of my mouth. Of course, a few weeks ago, I wasn’t the same person. “So don’t eat the meat, ok?”
He snapped out of it. “You stole hydrogen cyanide from work, and you poisoned the food with it? And what does David have to do with any of this?” He was staying calm, but it was taking a lot out of him.
I tried to make it seem like Dave would be safe. “Dave. He’s sort of a backup plan. He’s supposed to get here at twenty till ten. Hopefully, everything will be finished by then.”
“What, exactly, is he supposed to do once he gets here?”
I wasn’t winning him over. He was losing the cool he was working so hard to maintain, and I pulled my hand up into my sleeve to get my fingers on the nozzle of the hose. My plan, it seemed, really sucked.
“Listen, Dick. It’s just a distraction.”
“What’s a distraction?” It was Walter, who had appeared out of nowhere and had his arm over Dick’s shoulders.
I froze, nozzle in my hand. This wasn’t the plan. This was not what I meant at all. I knew I’d never get out alive if I did it, but I was about to squirt them in the face with the acid. Dick was about to squeal. I just knew it.
But he didn’t. I don’t know why he didn’t. Maybe my story wasn’t the only one that was changing. He just looked at me, waiting for me to get out of this.
And then, salvation. Angela emerged from her spot in the podium, and I had my way out. “Your niece, Walter. I can’t get her out of my head.”
Synchek turned to see Angela as she strode calmly toward us, wearing a long black dress, tight at the hips, slit to her left thigh. “Oh,” he said. “I see. She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” I said, taking my fingers off the hose. “She’s all I’ve been able to think about, Walter.” And, just for good measure, “Has she mentioned me at all?”
He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “Once or twice, young man. Once or twice.”
“Well, what did she say?”
But she was already at the bar. “What did who say about what?”
“Mr. Eliot here was just asking if you’d mentioned –”
I stepped between them. “Hi, Angela. It’s uh… It’s nothing. Right, Walter?”
He laughed. “Of course it’s nothing. Now, sit down. It’s almost time to eat. I believe I just saw Michael poke his head in. I must speak with him, if you’ll excuse me, please.”
I was nervous. Nothing good had ever come of Devereaux’s presence, and I was sure this trend would continue. At the moment though, I had something more important to worry about.
Angela and I had found ourselves seated and alone, and we talked in hurried whispers.
“Don’t eat the food. Any of it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I already did it. Just don’t eat, ok?”
“I never do.”
“You look fucking phenomenal in that dress, by the way.”
“Nice suit.”
“Thanks. Now here’s the plan. In about fifteen minutes-”
A hand fell on my shoulder like a guillotine’s blade falling on a wrongfully-sentenced prisoner’s neck. How could I have possibly been in the wrong here?
It was Walter. Always Walter. “In about fifteen minutes… what, Mr. Eliot?”
Oh shit.
Another hand, Devereaux’s, found its way to my other shoulder as Walter cleared his throat. “Excuse me, everyone, please. I would like everyone to take a moment to welcome back Travis Eliot. Mr. Eliot has come to accept our invitation and strengthen our group, and I do believe that he will.”
There was a round of applause. They were all very excited. They didn’t know what I knew. They didn’t know that I’d be strengthening the group the way Synchek meant it. They didn’t know they’d soon be eating me.
But I did. The jig, as they say, was up. Somehow they found out about…
“Now,” he continued, “everyone enjoy your meals.”
They wheeled out the carts and passed out the food as Synchek and Devereaux led Angela and I towards the kitchen. As certain as I may have been about our impending doom, I couldn’t help but smile. Twenty-two cannibals in one go. Not a bad start for the new me. Not bad at all.