Boylan has gone silent, now staring down into his beer. Reed glances at him, then glances at Philippe. Finally he looks at me.
“Abraham and Kenneth were part of our team two years ago. Roland Delano had them killed.”
“How so?” I ask.
“Delano had men come after them. Actually, he had men come after all of us. We were the team assigned to keep constant surveillance on the man and his dealings. Delano somehow found out about it. He didn’t like it and sent men to scare us off.”
“He really thought doing that would work?”
“The thing about men like Delano is they don’t think. They just act. And so he sent men and …” Reed looks down, swallows, shakes his head.
Philippe clears his throat. “One of the main reasons Boris isn’t with us now, why he’s still up on the rooftop watching the mansion, is that he was shot in the leg that night by Delano’s men. They almost killed him. He now has to use a cane to get around.”
Boylan looks up at me, his face even darker. “They shot me, too. Right here.” He taps his left shoulder with a finger.
I glance at Reed. “What about you?”
“Me?” He shakes his head. “I happened to be taking a piss at the time. Wasn’t in the room when Delano’s men stormed in. There were four of them. Abraham and Kenneth were closest to the door so they were killed first. We returned fire and managed to take two of them out, and the other two …”
He shakes his head again. Nobody speaks for the longest time. That invisible glass partition is still around us, keeping out the rest of the world.
Finally, Boylan shakes his head. “On second thought, I wouldn’t have said anything to him before I pulled the trigger. I would have just shot him five or ten times. Then I would have walked right up to him and spit in his face. Either that or pulled out my dick and pissed all over him.”
A beat passes, then another. Reed smiles first. Then Philippe. Then Nova. Then Boylan. I’m the one who laughs first though, and it starts the rest of them off, all of us laughing, contained in that invisible glass partition that ensures nobody else in the world knows the joke.
Thirty-Eight
By the time we leave the bar it’s nine o’clock and it has already started raining. Philippe’s sedan is parked two blocks away in one direction, Reed and Boylan’s car parked three blocks away in another direction. We say our goodbyes on the sidewalk, shaking hands, patting shoulders, nodding heads. Knowing that we did everything we could today to try to save the world but sometimes your best just isn’t good enough.
The three of us walk quickly toward the sedan. As we near it, Philippe reaches into his pocket for the keys. I hurry my step, snatch the keys from his hand, and tell him I’ll drive. Before he can protest, I hit the button to unlock the car and slide into the driver’s seat.
Reluctant, Philippe gets into the passenger seat. Nova sits in the back.
Philippe says, “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“I’ve driven in Paris before.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
I put the car in gear and wait for an opening in traffic before I pull out into the street. The sedan handles better than I thought it would, the engine powerful, and it takes me a minute to adjust.
The rain picks up. One of the wipers is obstinate and doesn’t clear the windshield properly.
I drive up one street, down another. I stop at traffic lights, stop signs. I know what I’m looking for but start to wonder whether it’s worth the risk. As much as I’m dreading the flight back home on the cargo jet, I don’t want to miss it.
Finally I find the street I’m looking for. As I make the turn, Philippe starts to notice what section of the city we’re in. His body tenses. He sits up straight in his seat. He looks at me, just stares, before speaking.
“What are you doing?”
I spot the club two blocks up. It’s almost impossible not to, what with the bright flashing lights and the large neon sign that in French proudly proclaims Xerxes’s Palace.
There’s a vacant spot along the curb. I park the sedan, shut off the engine.
“Holly,” Philippe says, his voice stern. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Being reckless and irresponsible,” I say, undoing my seat belt and reaching for the door handle.
Philippe grabs my arm.
Nova, just as fast, leans over the seat, grabs Philippe’s hand, and pulls it back off. He says, “What the hell is going on here?”
Philippe ignores him, keeps staring at me. “You can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
“What do you expect to accomplish?”
“I just want to see him.”
“There’s no guarantee he’s inside.”
Nova says, “What the fuck are you two talking about?”
Philippe jerks his hand out of Nova’s grip. “The man who owns that club was an associate of Roland Delano. It now appears he’s planning to take Delano’s place.”
Nova closes his eyes, lets out a breath. He says my name, starts to say more, but I open the door and step out.
“I’m not going to do anything. I just want to see him for myself.”
“What about your flight?” Philippe asks.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Nova says, “And if you’re not?”
I smile at him. “Then you know what to do.”
Even with the rain there’s a line outside the club. Thankfully a canopy has been set up and I find shelter underneath it.
The line moves fast. I don’t have identification on me but the bouncer likes my smile and lets me in anyway. I’m forced to pay a cover charge. Then I enter a dark atmosphere of head-pounding music and flashing lights. A corridor past a small bar leads into the club.
