What was left?
Nothing. Nothing was left.
I went outside. The sun was well below the horizon by now. Only a faint red glow in the west remained, but the moon was overhead, and its dim white light was soothing.
I didn’t want to take Francois’s SUV back into town. The bodyguards who’d fled the house should have notified the police hours ago, and I didn’t want to be caught in his car. Arne’s Land Rover was there, and so were Fidel’s and Summer’s cars. There were no keys, though; those would have been in their pockets when they fell into the Empty Spaces.
The Dodge Viper, however, had the keys inside. I got behind the wheel and drove it out of the building. I siphoned enough gas from Arne’s SUV to fill the tank halfway. Once I got back to the city, I’d ditch it somewhere. The cops would return it to the guy Arne stole it from—hell, I’d be doing someone a favor.
I took the coffee thermos from Francois’s vehicle. The Book of Oceans was still in the bottom, but I didn’t look at it very long. I wasn’t ready for another “dream.”
I tore the boning knife off the shovel and dropped it into the oil. Then I set fire to the oil and shut the huge doors. The building wasn’t visible from the highway, and the darkness would hide whatever smoke the oil gave off. Sure, the smell would be strong, but the wind seemed to be in my favor.
Not that it mattered. The last of the green crap would be burned up by then. The rest was just details.
I drove the Viper along the gravel bed back to the highway, wondering how Arne had managed to steal gravel.
About forty feet from the shoulder of the highway, I waited until I couldn’t see any headlights in either direction, then pulled out. In no time, I was up to sixty, headed back to L.A.
I went to Violet’s place, partly because I didn’t want to see anyone from the society right away, and partly because I wanted to see what I’d done to her life. The building was still there, and it still had a gaping hole in the side, as though a giant had put a fist through the wall.
Violet was there, too. She was leaning against the hood of her own car, smoking and staring up at the ruined apartment. I parked at the end of the block and walked up to her.
Her cigarette smelled rank, so I walked to her upwind side. “You okay?” I asked. “Where’s Jasmin?”
“With my mom. They’re hiding with a friend of a friend of a friend. I don’t even know where they are.”
“I’m glad they’re okay.” It was a stupid thing to say, but it felt like an obligation.
She threw her half-finished cigarette away as though it wasn’t doing what she wanted. “Mom said she asked you to find Mouse.”
“We shouldn’t talk about it here.”
She got into her car and I got into mine. I followed her out to Cahuenga Pass. In one of the sharpest bends of the road, she swerved up someone’s driveway. I thought she’d jumped the curb for a moment, until she parked. I pulled in beside her. Lino’s thermos stayed in the cup holder, but I got out.
Vi held a package under her arm as she led me inside.
The house was small but tasteful—wood paneling, dark couches made of fake leather, and hunting rifles on the wall. Very male. As I followed her into the kitchen I wondered whose place this was. New boyfriend? I realized I didn’t care.
Then I laid my hand on the couch and realized that the leather wasn’t fake.
Violet dropped the package onto the counter. “Come here,” she said, and led me to the bathroom. “Get yourself showered up. I’ll get you some clean clothes.” She shut the door.
I showered in a stranger’s tiny tiled bathroom. I lathered up with translucent blue soap and dried off with rough white towels. The clothes were too big for me, but there was a belt, too.
Violet was in the kitchen when I returned. There was a lot of glassware and copper. She opened the fridge, took out two beer bottles, and popped the caps on them. She set one on the counter for me.
I walked close to the package to examine it. It was a brown leather folder with a black ribbon tied around it. SHIMMERMAN & PENOBSCOTT had been printed in gold leaf along the edge. I didn’t touch it.
“Whose place is this?” I asked.
“Mine, if you can believe it. Arne gave it to me this afternoon.” She held up her bottle. We clinked them together and drank.
“He did, huh?” My brain was racing through the events of the previous few days. Arne had a house? Like this? I never would have guessed.
“He really fixed it up. He got it from a guy who owed him money. That was right before I got the court order. Did you know I had a restraining order against him?” Violet’s voice was soft. “He kicked my door down once, the second time I broke up with him. The cops came and everything. All those crimes he did, over all those years, and he’d never been picked up by the cops before. He was furious with me, as though it was my fault he had a record.”
“He was always careful.”
“I always thought he was too careful.” She took a long pull. “And I thought he should grow up and get something legit. But he used to laugh at that.”
“Why did he give you the house?”
“The guy explained it to me. Penobscott, although I think it was Penobscott’s kid, really, not the one with his name in gold. Arne said he was going away, shedding all his worldly possessions and simplifying. He was going to find himself. It’s all in a trust or something. I don’t know. This snotty-faced kid was sitting behind a big desk in a suit that cost more than I earn in a month, and he’s telling me all about the terms of the trust and what I have to do to maintain it for Jasmin. But I couldn’t hear a thing he said. We must have talked for half an hour, and I walked
