charms?
Looking at her, his eyes flashed slightly, as if reading her thoughts. 'You're an anthropologist,' he said. 'Have you read
'No.'
'What about emile Durkheim's
She nodded.
'Then you know that certain things can be analyzed and codified — and certain things cannot. And certainly, as one who studied anthropology, you understand the concept of phenomenology?'
'Yes, but…' She fell silent.
'Because our minds are trapped within our bodies, we cannot determine ultimate truth — or untruth. The best we can do is describe what we see.'
'You're losing me…' 'There is a wisdom on this earth, Nora, which is mysterious, which is very old, and with which we must not quarrel. Is it true? Untrue? We cannot know. Therefore, will you do as I ask? Keep these on your person?'
She glanced at the objects in her hand. 'I don't know what to say.'
'Say yes, if you please. Because that is the only condition I shall
Slowly, she nodded.
'Very good.' He turned to go, then stopped, looked back at her. 'And Dr. Kelly?'
'Yes?'
'It is not enough merely to possess these things. One must
'Believe what?'
'Believe they work. Because those who wish you ill most certainly believe.' And with that he slipped out of the office, closing the door silently behind him.
Chapter 28
Midnight. Nora paused at the corner of Indian Road and 214th Street to check her map. The air was cool and smelled of fall. Beyond the low apartment houses, the dark treetops of Inwood Hill Park rose black against a luminous night sky. The lack of sleep made her feel light — headed, almost as if she had taken a stiff drink.
As she pored over the map, Caitlyn Kidd looked curiously over her shoulder.
Nora stuffed the map back in her pocket. 'Up another block.'
They continued along Indian Road. It was a quiet, residential street, bathed in yellow sodium light, the brick buildings on either side somber and plain. A car passed slowly, turning onto 214th Street, its headlights lancing the dark. Where Indian curved into 214th, an unmarked road, little more than an abandoned driveway, branched off, heading west between an apartment building and a shuttered dry cleaners. A rusty iron chain was draped across it, fixed to old iron posts set into each side of the lane. Nora looked down the narrow road, which headed past some baseball diamonds and disappeared into the darkness. The asphalt was cracked, heaving up in chunks. Tufts of grass and even the occasional small sapling poked up here and there through the gaps. She checked the newly printed map once again — her earlier excursion had clearly shown her the best route of approach.
'This is it.'
They ducked under the chain. Ahead, past the playing fields, the old road crossed an expanse of fallow ground, then vanished into the forest of Inwood Hill Park. Only a few cast — iron lampposts remained, and they were dark; looking up, Nora thought she could see bullet holes in the glass coverings.
Somewhere in the darkness ahead lay the Ville. She started forward, Caitlyn hurrying to keep up. The paved road narrowed and the trees closed in. The smell of damp leaves filled the air.
'You brought a flashlight, right?' Caitlyn asked.
'Yes, but I'd rather not use it.'
The lane rose, gently at first, then steeply, to a rise that afforded views of the Henry Hudson Parkway and Columbia's Baker Field. They paused, gaining their bearings. Ahead, the path descended toward an embayment in the Harlem River. As they proceeded, Nora began to make out, through a screen of trees, a faint scattering of yellow lights about a quarter mile away.
She felt Caitlyn nudge her side. 'Is that it?'
'I think so. Let's find out.'
After a moment's hesitation, they continued down the hill, following the lane as it curved to take advantage of the topography. The trees grew denser, shutting out the faint glow of the city. The thin drone of traffic on the parkway receded. The lane curved again and something dark loomed ahead: an ancient chain — link fence, much abused, barred further access. A large hole in the fence had been patched with a crisscrossing mass of razor wire. In the center of the fence stood a gate, a crudely lettered sign affixed to it:
Private Property
No Trespassing
Do Not Enter
'This is a city street,' said Nora. 'This isn't legal. Be sure you put that in your article.'
'Not much of a street though, is it?' Caitlyn replied. 'Anyway, the whole complex isn't strictly legal. They're squatters.'
Nora examined the gate. It was wrought iron, black paint peeling from it, the metal underneath pitted and bubbling with rust. A row of spikes ran across the upper edge of its frame, but half of the spikes had either broken or fallen off. Despite the appearance of antiquity, Nora noticed that the gate's hinges were well oiled and its chain and padlock were quite new. No sound came through the trees.
'Easier to climb over the fence than the gate,' Nora said.
'Yeah.'
Neither moved.
'You really think this is a good idea?' asked Caitlyn.
Before she had a chance to change her mind, Nora took the initiative, grasping the rusted chain link with her hands and jamming her toes into the gaps, pulling herself up as quickly as she could. The fence was about ten feet tall. Brackets along the upper edge indicated that it had once been topped by strands of barbed wire, which had disappeared long ago.
In half a minute, she was over. She dropped to the soft leaves on the other side, panting. 'Your turn,' she said.
Caitlyn grasped the links and did the same. She wasn't in nearly as good shape as Nora, but managed to struggle over, sliding down the far side with a quiet rattle of metal. 'Whew,' she said as she brushed away leaves and rust.
Nora peered into the dimness ahead. 'Better to go through the woods than follow the road,' she whispered.
'No argument here.'
Moving gingerly, trying not to rustle the leaves, Nora moved off the road to the right, where a dark gully ran downhill through oak trees toward the edge of a cleared area. She could hear Caitlyn behind her, moving cautiously. The gully soon became steep, and Nora paused from time to time to peer ahead. It was dark in the woods, but she knew they couldn't use the flashlight. She had every reason to believe the people inside the Ville were alert to intruders and might investigate a light bobbing in the woods.
The gully gradually leveled out as they approached the flat area marking the edge of a field around the Ville itself. Abruptly, the trees ended and the dead field stretched before them, ending at the rear of the massive, ancient church, attached to — and perhaps even held up by — its helter — skelter accretion of dependent buildings. A chill wind blew across the field, and Nora could hear the rattle of dry weeds.
'My God,' she heard Caitlyn murmur beside her.
This time, Nora had approached the Ville from the opposite side. From the closer perspective, she could see
