Gene Wolfe - An Evil Guest

“No. But I don’t think he got into my apartment. He didn’t toss me notes or mess with my computer or anything.”

“Unlike some others.”

Cassie smiled. “Hey, you got it.”

“I did indeed. Did you do anything in back of the limousine besides talking and drinking?”

Cassie cut a slice of fontina toast in two and ate the smaller half before she answered. “We held hands. Are you jealous?”

“Is that all?”

“All I’m going to tell you about, yes.”

“I see. May I ask what you talked about?”

Cassie held out her right hand and scratched the palm with her left index finger. “I promised to spy for you for a hundred thousand dollars. Remember? Payable on demand. It was before you made me a star.”

“I do.”

“You promised, and I went through with your ceremony on the mountain. Now I’m mixed up with somebody you tell me is terribly dangerous.” Cassie paused. “That’s what you tell me, and I think you’re right. He is. He scares the holy bejabbers out of me, Dr. Chase. He talks very kindly and reasonably, and it’s like hooking up with a friendly tiger. He wants you to hang out with him — until he gets hungry.”

She took a deep breath. “So I want to see some money. Now. A whole bunch of money. Enough to prove once and for all that you haven’t been stringing me.”

“I see. And that would be... ?”

“Twenty thousand. At least that much. Twenty thousand dollars.”

Gideon nodded. “If you want it in cash, we can go to my bank and get it. If you’re willing to take a check, I can write you one right now. You can deposit it today; if it bounces, you ought to hear about that from your own bank within twenty-four hours.”

“You think I’ll be scared, carrying that much money.”

Gideon raised well-tailored shoulders and let them fall. “I don’t think anything, though anyone might be a bit apprehensive.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a better idea. You can write me a check now? There’s that much in your account?”

“In this account. Yes.”

“Good. Write me the check. When we leave here we’ll go straight to your bank, and I’ll use your check to open an account there.”

“All right.” Gideon pursed his lips. “You know, that’s clever. I hadn’t thought of it.”

“Need a pen?”

He shook his head and got out a checkbook.

“While you’re writing my check, I’ve got a question.”

“So do I. Cassie or Cassandra?”

“Cassie. My name’s not Cassandra, and I always go by Cassie.”

Gideon wrote.

“Here’s my question. Is it all right if I hock the bracelet? I don’t like it and I don’t want it around. If I hock it, I can go back and get it if Wally makes too big a stink.”

Gideon nodded to himself as he signed. “ ‘One may buy gold at a price too deare.’ Who said that? Spencer?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Cassie accepted the check. “Are you about ready?”

“No. I want more coffee, and I have more questions.”

“So do I. Is it all right if I get my wall fixed?”

He nodded as he handed her the check. “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.” Cassie was studying the check. “Barclays Bank? Isn’t that English?”

“Correct. It’s the U.S. branch of a British bank.”

“You get around. What about the bracelet?”

“I want it, and I’ve said so. The more I hear about it, the more suspicious it sounds. I want to examine it thoroughly, and I want to have some people I know look it over. When they’ve checked it out, you and I can decide what — ”

Cassie’s purse played “Pigs in Paradise.”

“My cell phone,” she muttered, and answered it. After what might have been fifteen seconds she said, “Naturally you were afraid. I understand... Don’t worry about it.”

She fell silent for a few seconds longer, then said, “Listen, I want you to come to my apartment at three.” She gave the address. “I’ll be there, we’ll talk this over, and I’ll give you that eight hundred.” Soon she repeated, “I understand,” pushed a button, and dropped the telephone back into her purse.

“Something’s happened,” Gideon said. “What is it?”

“Our friend — Mr. Rosenquist is what Margaret said — came to see her. She must rent a room somewhere. That’s what it sounded like. He wanted his bracelet, and he must have known, somehow, that it was still in her purse.”

“She probably looked toward it when he asked about the bracelet. People do that unless they train themselves very carefully not to.”

“Fine. She looked, and he opened her purse and got it. He had a long black jewelry box, she said. It sounded like the same box he had the bracelet in when he gave it to me. Anyway, he got out this box and put my bracelet in it and left. Then she called me. All this was just a minute ago.”

“She didn’t call the police?”

Cassie shook her head. “She’d have told me about it if she had, I’m certain. Do you want her to?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. He must have given her some excuse when he asked for it back. Do you know what it was?”

“She didn’t mention any. Just said that he asked for it back.”

“A long black box... No further description?”

Cassie signaled to the waitress, who brought them more coffee. When she had gone, Cassie said, “I told you it sounded like the box it was in when he gave it to me. If that’s right, it’s about this long and covered with black leather. It was lined with white silk, or something like that.”

“You handled it?”

“No,” Cassie said. “I mean yes. Yes, I did. He gave it to me and I took the ribbon off and opened it. Then I took the bracelet out and handed the box back to him. He must have put it in his pocket.”

“Was it heavy?”

“The bracelet or the box? The bracelet was as heavy as lead. I don’t know about the box.”

“You handled it,” Gideon said, “even if it was only for a moment. Please try to remember. This is important.”

“I’m trying. I remember how heavy it felt when he handed it to me. I couldn’t imagine what it was. Then the bracelet... You know, I think it was. I think the box was heavy, too. You shouldn’t smirk.”

“Was I smirking? I apologize.” Gideon sipped his coffee. “He may give that bracelet back to you. I doubt it, but he may. If he does, don’t wear it more than you have to, and get in touch with me right away.”

“Do you carry a cell phone? You must.”

Gideon nodded.

“I want the number. I was trying to get in touch with you last night, before you called me. I couldn’t reach you.”

“You tend to be indiscreet on the telephone. That’s why I haven’t given you the number.”

“I won’t be. Never again.” Cassie raised a hand. “Honest Injun. And I won’t pester you for dates.”

Gideon grinned. “Pity.”

“Oh, you want to be pestered? Then you will be. But I’ve got to have the number.”

He took out a business card and wrote it on the back; his numerals, while somewhat stylized, were as neat and disciplined as print.

“Thanks. You said you had more questions. All right, Dr. Chase, let fly.”

“If you’re going to ask me for a date,” Gideon said, “you really should use my first name.”

“Fine. I will. In a day or two, I’ll be calling you Giddy. What are the questions?”

“I suppose I invited that. Very well. I don’t think you can possibly know the answer to the first one; but it’s by far the most important, and if you have speculations I’d like to hear them. Why did Reis give you a bracelet and take it back?”

Cassie stared. “I have no idea. I was so happy to get rid of it that I didn’t even think about that.”