The Bone Triangle (42 page)

“You look like a drowned rat, Draith. We’ve been waiting a long time for you to show up. Let’s go on a little tour.”

I hesitated, my hand reaching into my pocket. I touched a single finger to the candy cane and seriously considered vanishing on the spot. In the end, curiosity got the better of me and I followed him.

The Beast had really done a number on the casino. The bodies were all gone, but the rubble had not been touched.
We passed a row of slot machines crushed by a fallen beam. They looked like a line of smashed tin cans.

The elevators weren’t working, as even the emergency power had run out. I sighed, then found the stairway and began climbing. I was tired and hungry, but I hiked all the way to the top.

When the building at last ran out of stairs, I found the penthouse lobby curiously undamaged. The room smelled like soot, but that was the only detectable difference. I supposed those tentacles could reach only so high.

I knocked politely, then let myself in. To my surprise, Rostok wasn’t there. The lights were brighter than they’d ever been. I saw a glow from behind the big, hulking desk in the corner.

“Hi, Quentin.”

“Is that you, Ezzie?”

“Yes.”

“You came back to Rostok?”

“Yes. I had to have my Rostok. But I still don’t like it here. We are looking for a better place.”

“Too cold for you, eh?” I asked, smiling. “Where is Rostok then?”

“He’s checking out the new place, making sure it is safe for us. We both like it there. A warmer world than this one, but not so hot that it burns him.”

I frowned. “You aren’t talking about living inside the Beast, are you?”

“How did you know? I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that.”

I laughed, walked to the desk, and left the liver on top of it. “See that Rostok gets this, will you? I was supposed to return it.”

“I will. Good-bye, Quentin.”

I walked down the stairs. By the time I reached the street, my legs ached. I contacted Jacqueline, and she came to pick me up. I was surprised to see she was driving the red Mercedes again.

“Uh,” I said. “Is this the same car we left out in the desert?”

She nodded and beamed. “McKesson learned about what you did, and he made a few calls. He’s still in the hospital, you know. Somehow, he got the government people to leave the car at the highway entrance.”

I nodded appreciatively. “McKesson did us a favor? Maybe there’s hope for him yet. Of course, Meng might have ordered him to do it. In that case, I should be thanking her.”

I climbed into the car, and she went to hug me but recoiled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, her pretty nose wrinkling.

We drove to my place, and I found an eviction notice plastered on the door. There was also a letter on the doorstep. I warily checked out the envelope, but soon determined it wasn’t some kind of explosive. I took it inside and opened it. It was a cashier’s check from the Lucky Seven for a hundred thousand dollars.

Jacqueline whooped and kissed the check while I went off to take a shower. When I came out, her eyes were glowing.

“Can we go shopping afterward?” she asked. “I’m having serious withdrawal symptoms after going legit and giving up my shoe collection. Really, I don’t know how you can control yourself with those sunglasses.”

I smiled. “After what?”

She smiled back and jumped on me.

A few days later, I went back to the Sunset and asked the people behind the camera if I could talk to Meng. This seemed to fluster the security team, and they told me to wait for a moment.

Five minutes later, a familiar voice came from the speaker. “Draith? The Sunset is closed. You can come back for psychiatric services in the morning.”

I chuckled. “I have an unusual request. Some things are best done under the cover of darkness.”

“What do you want?”

“We have unfinished business.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “You’ll never get in here. I’ve sealed the lower floors. Not even Gutter Jim can get in through our plumbing now.”

“I’m not breaking in. We were allies last time we met. Or is that history?”

Another hesitation. I heard her ordering people away. Apparently, she didn’t want any of her underlings to hear this conversation. “I’m buzzing you in. But you better not try anything.”

I felt distinctly mistrusted as I wended my way past their security cameras, unsmiling men in green, and doors reinforced by wire mesh.

I headed for her office and met her there. She was alone, but I knew her staff was in the hall outside, listening nervously.

“What business do we have?” she asked evenly.

On her desk blotter between the two of us was the hood ornament. It gleamed under the florescent lights.

“Has the Beast returned?” I asked.

“No, I think you were successful—oh, is that why you are here? To ask for some kind of reward? What do you want?”

I pointed to the hood ornament. It was bronze in color and looked well-aged. Staring at it, I admired the distinctive artistry of the statuette, which had the shape of a woman with wings raised in midflight.

Distrustful of my scrutiny, Meng immediately grabbed it up and cradled it to her breast.

“Are you mad?” she said, glaring at me. “I’d die without it. I won’t give it up.”

I opened my mouth to explain, but she suddenly stood up, speaking faster and faster. I realized she was in the grips of paranoia.

“You found something, didn’t you? Something to make you stronger than before. Something from the Beast’s lair. You wouldn’t come here otherwise. Well, let’s do this then. We’ll see if you can take everything I’ve got.”

She reached down to her desk and slipped a finger under the bottom lip of it. I knew she was about to call her army of supporters.

“Calm down,” I said. “You don’t have to press any buttons. We don’t have to go to war today. The war is over, and the battle was won. I’m not here to take anything.”

She stopped but kept her hand on the desk, her finger poised. She frowned at me tightly. “What then?”

I pointed to the hood ornament again, the one that gave her all her power.

“First of all, I want you to release Gilling, McKesson, and everyone else you grabbed during the Beast’s attack.”

“What?” she sputtered.

“You can keep your staff and any seriously dangerous patients you have around here. Really, Meng, what more do you need? If you want to return to the Community as a hero—”

“The Community understands my critical role in the battle against the Beast. I don’t need to give up—”

“I’m not just talking about Rostok, Gutter Jim, and the rest. I’m talking about the rogues, too. And our entire city, which has been bled white. If you want to be part of this world again, let them go.”

She glared at me. “What happened in there? What happened to the Beast?”

“If I show you that—you may not survive.”

Meng licked her lips. I knew her paranoia was working against her. She feared me and
wanted
a truce declared.

“Anyone who drove away that thing deserves respect. But you can’t come here and order me around in my own domain.”

“I understand this is your territory. What I’m offering you are my terms for peace.”

I leaned back in my chair and looked at her confidently. It was something I was very good at. She knew I’d done what
no one else could, and more importantly she didn’t know
how
I’d done it. This uncertainty was driving her nuts.

“I’ll do it,” she said at last. “I’ll let them all go. But don’t think you can come back in here any time you wish, making more demands of me.”

I raised one finger. “There is one more thing.”

It took an hour or so to set it up. I had McKesson there, with his arm still in a sling. In his other hand, he held a new pistol. He aimed it at the ground and looked grim. He’d been released of Meng’s influence, and he wasn’t too happy to learn he’d been under her spell for quite a while.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me. “Some things are best left alone.”

“Let him,” Meng said, smiling tightly. “He’s earned it. A man needs to know who and what he really is.”

I didn’t like Meng’s tone. Both of them were hinting that I might not like my own past. I knew I should heed the warning and back out—but I couldn’t. I had to have my past back. I had to know who I was.

“Let’s do it,” I said. “I’ll give you the talisman, Jay, and you’ll be immune. Then she can go to work on me. If I go ape, feel free to shoot the good doctor.”

McKesson smiled grimly. “With pleasure.”

Meng gave him a dismissive glance. I could tell there was no love lost between these two, and that’s just how I wanted it. I had to have a trustworthy man standing at my side in order for this to work. Otherwise, when I opened my mind to Meng, she might well decide to put me back into one of her little cells. I wondered again just how many times she’d done exactly that. I figured I’d learn the truth soon enough.

I handed over the talisman to McKesson. The finger shifted its weight inside the vial. McKesson didn’t bother to hang it around his neck. He just gripped it in his injured hand and watched Meng distrustfully.

She sat at her desk, moving very slowly. She reached out her small hand and rested it on the back of the statuette. She ran a finger down the bronze wings, first one, then the other. I thought I saw a flash, and then I heard her voice, but soon after everything went white.

I found myself tumbling down concrete steps. I’d been here before—several times. I knew these stained steps, the buzzing caged light bulb overhead and the door in front of me. I climbed to my feet painfully, staggered to the door, and pushed on the panic bar.

Sunlight blazed into my eyes. They hurt, and I groped in my pocket for sunglasses.

The sunglasses.
They no sooner shaded my eyes than I remembered them and their former owner.

For the first time, I saw Tony Montoro in my mind’s eye. He was a nice guy. Not too tall, not too fat. He had a big head and big hands. He laughed easily, and not just when he was drunk.

At that point, I was smiling. But the pleasantness soon ended.

I remembered killing Tony. I’d done it on a cool night in the city, after driving away from his place with him. He’d been my friend—and that made it easier. He trusted me.

Tony had been hard up for cash, and he’d taken to stealing. Unfortunately, he’d stolen from the wrong people. Community people. Stealing was easy for Tony, with sunglasses
that could open any safe, twist apart any lock. Money couldn’t be kept from him if he wanted it badly enough.

So, he’d given in to the temptation and taken the cash. After they’d figured out who it was, the injured people called Meng and ordered the hit. Las Vegas, like all societies, had rules. When you broke them, the penalty was harsh.

Meng had summoned me to Sunset, given me a bill from a restaurant, and sent me to visit my friend Tony one last time. The restaurant bill was from a diner in Indian Springs. It was dated September 13, 1951, but it was as fresh as the day the waitress had scrawled a little smiley face at the bottom. The paper was crisp, and the ink would never fade.

As Meng had commanded, I’d filled Tony Montoro’s lungs with sand that night, and I killed him. As I recalled now, I’d done it with a vague smile on my face. My mind was a blank at the time; it was like being in a dream.