Daemon in a hounfo, in a WhoDoo temple.’
‘Is there such a temple in the ForthRight?’
Stupid question. It was Crowley himself who had banned all churches in the ForthRight except those dedicated to the worship of UnFunDaMentalism.
‘No, sah, dere ain’t.’
‘Can this temple be built?’
‘Yes, Your Holiness, if ah am given a room big enough.’
‘Very well. In three days you will come to Dashwood Manor to perform a sitting with the Daemon.’
When Crowley and his SS entourage had swept out of the pub, Burlesque bustled back in and after cursing and swearing about the bottle of Solution that Crowley had drunk but not paid for, he had been at pains to tell Ella that the appearance of the SS had been nothing to do with him. He had obviously taken her warning to heart.
‘I know, Burlesque,’ Ella had reassured him, ‘I know.’
‘So wot did Crowley want?’
‘Crowley wants me to perform a seance at Dashwood Manor.’
‘Dashwood Manor? That’s wun ov them big ‘ouses in Kensington where all the nobs live. Gor, that’s great. I’ll be able to charge fifty guineas.’
‘The seance Crowley is talking about is to be performed before the Leader, Reinhard Heydrich.’ As statements went, Ella knew it was a real revelation. Vanka’s mouth flopped open in astonishment.
‘Heydrich?’ he gasped. ‘Are you sure? How do you know?’
‘I’m a clairvoyant, remember?’
Vanka shook his head, ‘No… not Heydrich… I’m not going anywhere near that fuck… no… bollocks to that.’
Burlesque, by contrast, was enthused. ‘Gor, that’s even greater, that is. The Leader, you say? That trick yous pulled on that Morris bloke musta really got the feathers flying in the Ministry an’ no mistake.’ Burlesque called over to a passing barmaid for a glass of Solution. ‘We’ll be able to arsk a fortune in fees.’
‘Are you fucking insane?’ snarled Vanka, abandoning his usually cool demeanour. ‘Perform a seance for Heydrich? If there’s even a hint of trickery then we’ll be arrested on the spot.’
Burlesque wasn’t listening. ‘Maybe I should ask a century, wot wiv it bin the Leader an’ all.’
‘I don’t care if they’re offering a thousand fucking guineas. I can’t spend it if I’m banged up in Wewelsburg Castle hanging from the ceiling by my scrotum, now can I?’ Vanka shook his head even more firmly. ‘No, I’m not doing it. I’ve one rule in my life and that’s to keep as much distance between myself and those fucking…’ His instinct for self-preservation kicked in: he gave a quick look around to make sure there was no one in the pub listening to what he was saying. ‘… lunatics who run the ForthRight as is humanly or, in their case, as is inhumanly possible.’ He shoved his half-finished glass of Solution across the table. It seemed his thirst had suddenly deserted him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to get home urgently.’
‘Wot? But we’ve got fings to discuss, Wanker, like wot share ov the takings I’m getting. As your manager…’
‘Fuck your discussions, Burlesque, I’m going home to pack.’
‘Pack? Where yous goin’?’
‘A place called Somewhere-Else-In-The-Demi-Monde.’
‘Ah, don’t be like that, Wanker. I’d ’ave thought you’d ‘ave bin pleased.’ Burlesque took a stone-cold sausage off Ella’s plate and gave it a ruminative gnaw. ‘Iffn Miss Ella here can do the business wiv a Daemon, well, the sky’s the limit. We’ll be able to charge…’
‘Are you totally fucking crackers, Burlesque? Can you imagine the amount of shit we’re going to be in if our seance goes wrong in front of Comrade Leader Heydrich?’
‘Yeah, but fink abart it, Wanker: wot iffn it goes right! I can see the handbill now. “Burlesque Bandstand Entertainments proudly presents, by royal…”‘ He stopped. ‘Nah, I can’t use the word “royal”, the Party’s still twitchy.’ He paused to scratch his groin, presumably, Ella decided, searching for inspiration. ‘That’s it: “by Imperial Warrant: Wanker Maykov an’ the Amazing Miss Marie Laveau, the Demi-Monde’s Foremost Physicalists”. You’ll be a star, Wanker. Make a fortune we will: twenty guineas an ‘ead we could charge to attend wun ov your sorries, no problem.’
‘I’m not doing it.’
‘I think we should, Vanka.’
The two men turned to look at Ella. Men in the ForthRight weren’t accustomed to being interrupted by women, especially when they were discussing business.
‘Now yous talkin’ sense, Miss Thomas.’
‘Under no circumstances,’ Vanka continued to protest.
‘I need to, Vanka,’ insisted Ella. ‘It might be the only way I have of finding the friend of mine I was telling you about, the one who is missing.’
Vanka shot Ella a venomous look and when he answered his voice had a distinct edge to it. ‘No way. We’ve created far too big a stink as it is. The last thing you want to do is attract more attention. You start being paraded around in front of Heydrich and the Checkya will nab you for sure, and if they nab you, they’ll nab me.’
‘Is that your final word, Vanka?’ said Ella in an equally determined voice.
‘Damned right it is.’
‘Then I’ll do it without you,’ she said quietly.
The mouths of the two men flopped open. ‘You can’t do it without me,’ protested Vanka.
‘Oh, yessen she can,’ interjected Burlesque quickly. ‘I’ve seen ‘er. She don’t need yous, Wanker. I’ll get you a new assistant, Miss Thomas…’
Vanka glared at Burlesque, obviously angered by the abrupt way he’d been demoted from ‘star’ to ‘assistant’.
‘… maybe even a new frock. That old bit ov curtain ain’t suitable for a Star like wot yous will be.’
‘Wait a minute, Burlesque. Ella here is my assistant. This is my act.’
Burlesque shrugged his protests aside. ‘Times change, Wanker. Opportunities like wot this is don’t come around very often and when they does, they’ve gotta be grabbed wiv both ‘ands. Gor, I can see it now, Miss Thomas ‘ere playing the Palladium.’
Burlesque lapsed into a lucrative daydream, leaving Ella to deal with a scowling Vanka. ‘Vanka, it’s a great opportunity. We’ve got to do it. I need your showmanship, Vanka; I need you to work the audience.’
Vanka shook his head. ‘I can’t, Ella, there might be people there, people I don’t want to meet.’
The penny dropped: now Ella understood Vanka’s reluctance. ‘For the love of God… for the love of ABBA,’ she quickly corrected herself, ‘there are people I don’t want to meet either.’ Wasn’t that the truth: the prospect of being in the same room as Reinhard Heydrich certainly wasn’t flipping her bananas. ‘But that’s not a problem, Vanka. I’ve been thinking about how we could spice up our act and I’ve come to the conclusion that we need to be a bit more theatrical. You’re already been billed as Mephisto so no one will know your real name and if we come on stage wearing masks…’
‘Masks?’ asked Vanka incredulously. ‘Like they wear in the Quartier Chaud?’
‘Yes, that way no one will be able to recognise either of us.’
‘I like the idea of making your act a bit more theatrical,’ mused Burlesque. ‘We could ‘ave a coupla birds wiv really big charms wandering around in the…’
‘Shut up, Burlesque,’ snapped Ella, and to her amazement, that’s just what he did. ‘I need you, Vanka, I need you to help me design a trick so big that no one will ever imagine that it is a trick.’ Ella suddenly became aware that Burlesque was hanging on her every word. ‘I need you to help me design the temple, the hounfo.’
‘Wot’s a hounfo? ’ asked a suddenly nervous Burlesque. ‘Is it expensive?’
An hour later Ella and Vanka – having left a half-pissed and very happy Burlesque asleep in the Pig – were sitting back in Vanka’s rooms.
Vanka had lapsed into a fretful silence as though he knew what he should do, but couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. It took half a bottle of Solution and nearly an hour’s worth of dark brooding before he pulled himself out of his mood. ‘Is this Daemon – the one Crowley was talking about – the one you want to take back to NoirVille?’ he asked.
There was no point in lying. ‘Yes, I got that much out of Crowley. He was a tough one to read and he blocked
