If her expression was to be taken as any sort of indication, then “those days” had not been nice.
“One winter night, when the tide swelled and the sea trespassed above the docks and flooded the lowlands, Madeleine returned. She came hunting for Constance, and found her at her home in Iram, among the unruly gardens and rundown mansions.” Holly recited the story dully, as if reading from a book toward which she was indifferent. “My baby sister returned with limbs carved from animal bone, acting as regent for the Drowned Empress. She had eyes crafted by the Outer Dark, and rode upon the back of an Elder and blasphemous thing from the depths. Constance was cunning and resourceful, but did not stand a chance. I rushed to Prospect Hill to stop them, but by the time I arrived, Madeleine had already…Constance had lost her head. Madeleine was not pleased to see me.”
Holly took her hand from beneath mine, and I watched her chew her thumbnail instead, with appropriate regret.
“She lashed out. I fell, and must have hit my head.” There was no reading Holly Diem’s comely features. “When I woke up, she was gone. And Constance…poor Constance.” Holly’s lip trembled, and tears beaded at the corner of her eyes. “Madeleine took Constance’s head. Chopped it off at the neck. I don’t know why. I don’t know why any of that had to happen.”
“It just seems to work that way, sometimes. Did you ever see Madeleine again?”
“No. That was the last time.”
That face. Open and sincere, to a degree that strained credulity. Again, there was no way to judge the truth of the matter.
“You said something about a rumor?”
“Yes.” Holly refreshed our tea, though mine hardly needed it. “I heard something about Madeleine. Several things, really. Starting a few months ago. The rumors connected her to certain…events. In various parts of the City.”
“That is frustratingly vague. Try again, Holly.”
She sighed as if I were putting her on.
“According to rumor, Madeleine has returned to the Nameless City; for what reason, no one knows.”
“I wish you had told me this back at the hospital.”
“Rumors tend to multiply in the Nameless City,” Holly said lazily. “You can’t take them too seriously. Nothing is real, after all, and…”
“I know, I know. What was Sumire doing for you, when she was attacked?”
“Looking into the truth of another rumor. There were several attacks before Sumire – young girls, accosted and dismembered. In each previous incident, however, the severed limbs were found scattered about the city, days later, as if discarded.”
“Huh.” I tried to remember if I had seen anything in the paper. Then I tried to remember if we got a paper, or if there even was a newspaper to get. I came up blank on all accounts. “Sounds bad. How many?”
“Three, before Sumire.”
“You were using Sumire as bait?”
“She agreed to every detail,” Holly insisted, in response to accusation I had not actually delivered. “I had no reason to believe that Sumire would encounter anything capable of doing her harm.”
“I’m not sure I agree. You believe in her supposed invulnerability enough to put her in harm’s way?”
“As I recall,” Holly observed coldly, “you had very little trouble trusting in Sumire’s invulnerability, when it suited your purposes.”
It was more like reckless disregard, but it seemed diplomatic not to mention that.
“Where did you send Sumire?”
“Iram, Prospect Hill. All of the previous incidents occurred within a several block vicinity.”
“You must have had a reason to finger this location, right? Proximity alone…”
“I did,” Holly confirmed, with a faraway look. “You see, a long time ago, a building nearby belonged to my sister Constance.”
I just stared, dumbfounded. Holly didn’t seem to mind.
“Here,” she said, taking a notepad and a pen from a nearby basket. “Do you want me to write you out directions?”
***
I woke Yael up, judging by the pajamas that I could just make out through the crack she opened her front door.
“Yes, Preston?”
“I have something for you to check out. I’d run it down myself, but I can’t be in two places at once.”
“Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“I got some leads out of Holly, maybe. You know she had – has – two sisters?”
The door shut smoothly, and then there was the rattle of bolts and chains.
“I think you better come in,” Yael said, holding the door open. “Behave yourself, okay?”
Her hair was in notable disarray. She wore flannel cat print pajamas and slippers, an aerosol can within easy reach of her hand on the kitchen table. Dunwich lazed between us, scooting away when I attempted to pet him.
“Of course.”
“I’m surprised you couldn’t wait till morning. Not that I mind, as long as it’s important.” Yael covered her mouth to hide a yawn. “What’s this about Holly’s sisters?”
I gave her the abbreviated version of Holly’s family history.
“Sound like a story you heard recently?”
“Yes. From Elijah.”
“Yeah. I think someone tried to drop us a little hint, there. Question is…”
“Why is Holly keeping secrets?” Curiosity kindled in Yael’s eyes. “Or why does Elijah know those secrets?”
“Those are both good questions,” I allowed, having only considered the first myself. “I think maybe I have an idea about where to find answers.”
“Really? That’s great! What are you thinking?”
“We need to get some addresses from Josh, and then…”
I stopped when I noticed her expression of open distaste.
“Ew.” I had forgotten the bad impression Josh made on…pretty much every woman at the Estates, honestly. “Do we have to?”
“Sorry.” I didn’t really blame her. “Holly gave me one address, so I’m guessing she doesn’t want us looking at the other. I have no idea how we find that info without his help.”
“Why would he help?”
It was a good question. One I had considered myself.
“Believe it or not, he likes Sumire. If he thinks it’ll lead to whoever attacked Sumire, he’ll help.”
Probably. If not, I could always resort to threats. Or worse.
Yael wrinkled her nose.
“Are you sure he won’t just go tell Holly?”
“Yeah. Holly isn’t much fonder of Josh than you are, and anyway…he’s afraid of me.”
“Oh.” She had to think about that. “Then it’s probably okay.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“I’ll get dressed,” she said, wiping sleep from her eyes. “You wait outside.”
It took her only five minutes to change and ready, which was impressive. We met no one on the stairs on the hallways on our way to Josh’s place, which was good, because I couldn’t think of a good cover story.
I paused at his door before I knocked.
“Okay, I think it would be best…”
“No argument,” Yael said, gritting her teeth and eyeing the door.
“…if I did the talking. Okay.”
The door opened on the third knock. I pushed my way in before Josh could say anything, and Yael followed suit, much to his dismay. The air was cold and pungent inside, and the detritus was everywhere. Yael stood near the front door, back as rigid as a flagpole, and tried not to touch anything. If not for social nicety, I got the feeling that she would have put her mask on.
In her position, I might have done the same.
“Not again!” Josh hissed like an agitated snake, all untrimmed fingernails, dirty hair, and a miasma of unfortunate personal odors. He seemed to think I had violated some unspoken rule by bringing Yael along to visit him, which was likely true. “It’s late, you know.”
“You were awake, Josh. You work all night
, right? I remember.”
“Good for you,” he snarled. “Why are you bothering me?”
“I have work,” I explained innocently, wandering through the kitchen, past stacks of discarded technical manuals and orange prescription bottles. “Something I need to know.”
“No one ever teach you how to look something up on the internet?”
“No.” I frowned and stopped close to where he sat at the desk wedged in the corner. “Can you help us, Josh? I’ll pay.”
“Of course you will,” he snarled, snatching up his laptop when I attempted to glance at what he was working on, and trotting over to the other side of his acrid-smelling living room. “What do you want, Preston?”
“You know our landlady, right? Holly Diem?” I followed him to the living room, and circled slowly around the couch he had settled on, while he clutched his laptop to his chest. Yael watched the scene without comment. “As it turns out, she’s been keeping things from us, Josh.”
“From you, maybe,” he said, shaking blue pills from a small envelope into the palm of his hand, and then dry swallowing. “She’s got no secrets from me, okay?”
“Then you probably already know,” I said, clearing a space on the chair across from him and sitting down, “that she has two sisters.”
The length of the pause suggested that he did not.
“Since when?”
“Since they were born,” Yael muttered, crossing her arms and looking away, “I imagine.”
“What did you say?” Josh’s voice quavered when he spoke to Yael. “Did you just say something to me?”
“Of course not,” I said, leaning forward and tapping the glass table between us with my forefinger. “Let’s get to business, shall we?”
“Yeah,” Josh said, eyeing me warily. “What do you want to know?”
“Two sisters,” I repeated. “I have one address. I need another.”
“You have their particulars?” Josh asked hopefully, snapping his laptop open. “This is gonna be expensive, by the way. If Holly found out…”
“Josh.” I caught his eye, and held it. “She can’t find out.”
“O-kay,” he stammered, tapping keys absently. “But if she did, she’d be mad. I’d need a new place to stay.”
He didn’t say live, because he was a ghoul, like Professor Dawes, but without the civility, charm, and good hygiene. He wasn’t actually the worst guy in the world. He just needed to be handled properly.
“You wouldn’t,” I said, standing just a little too close, “because I’ll be mad, too, Josh. So, let’s make sure she doesn’t find out, okay?”
6. Lessons from the Deep
Dull as a cavity, an absence where there has always been an absence. Measuring the hours until some kind of ending. A lexicon of debasement and regression, unfathomable will and sundry manifestation.
“I could have been asleep while you visited Josh, you know,” Yael grumbled, yawning. “Next time, wake me up after you have the information.”
“Didn’t think you’d believe me, secondhand.”
“I’m still not sure I believe you, but point taken. What do you want to do now?”
“Holly practically invited me to go poke my head in Constance’s old place in Iram, so that’s gotta be a trap.” I blew on my coffee and considered it, squatting on a concrete block in the vacant parking lot of the convenience store. “Checking to see if Elijah was working was a good idea, by the way.”
“I was hungry.” Yael shrugged as she finished peeling an orange. “You needed coffee. It just made sense.”
“Too bad we couldn’t talk to him. Some of his stories…”
“I know.” She offered me a section of orange, and then swallowed it whole when I refused. “Do you think he was warning us?”
“Maybe.” I doubted it. “Hard to say.”
“Yeah. So…”
“I wanna move on both addresses, tonight.” Dunwich watched me from a meter away, tail twitching, eyes bright and quick. “Before Holly or anyone else realizes we know.”
“Do you think we can make it to both before the morning?” She glanced at her phone. “We only have a few hours…”
“No.” I shook my head as if reluctant, but I had planned it this way. “There’s not enough time. We have to split up.”
“That sounds like a bad idea.”
“You have a better one?”
“I do, actually.” Yael finished her orange, and tossed the peel in a nearby can. “I can contact Snowball. We can ask Ulthar to look into one, while we check the other.”
“Assuming that Ulthar values their relationship with you more than the one they have with Holly. Are you sure they do?”
Her doubt, however brief, was unmistakable.
“Yes.” She didn’t sound sure. “I am.”
“Well, I’m not. We do this, Yael. The two – three – of us. Like we agreed. Okay?”
It wasn’t much of an argument, but she wasn’t really in the mood to argue.
“Fine. Which address do you want?”
“One is almost certainly a trap,” I said, thinking aloud. “The other is a complete unknown.”
“Pick your poison, I suppose.”
I pretended to think it over, for form’s sake.
“I may as well go where I’m wanted,” I grumbled. “I’ll go to Iram, and walk right into whatever Holly has in mind for me. You go down by the water, and take a look at Madeleine’s old digs. Sound good?”
“Not really,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Let’s do it regardless.”
***
The trains were densely crowded despite the hour, the air in the cars humid and wet-dog scented. I switched trains several times, treating any potential tails to a stressful night on the town. It took an extra hour, but I used the time wisely, stewing and fretting over Holly’s story, and the tenuous lead I extracted from it.
After a while, everything starts feeling like a trap.
That didn’t leave me with many options, but I struggled with it anyway, to distract myself from the rattle of the train’s wheels on uneven tracks.
Holly’s agenda was obscure. Sumire was working for her when she was attacked, apparently trying to draw out her little sister, Madeleine, who had returned to the Nameless City, for uncertain reasons. I worked for Holly with some regularity, and knew that violence was a potential occupational hazard. I had a few bad days, due to involvement in Holly’s affairs, and I’d imagine Sumire had as well. Holly claimed that Sumire knew the risks, but I had my doubts. When I worked for Holly, she rarely offered explanations.
The other thing…
Madeleine Diem. She was awfully convenient. It bothered me that Holly hadn’t mentioned any of this when speculation ran rampant as to potential suspects. It seemed like Holly’s potentially homicidal younger sister should have come up in conversation earlier, given what Sumire was looking for when she was attacked – not to mention the similarities between the earlier incidents and Sumire’s assault. It fit together so neatly, how could it not occur to Holly to mention it?
Unless she invented it later.
I should have quizzed Sumire on what Holly had told her about her job, but I hadn’t actually figured out how to address her, in light of what had happened. For all I knew, Sumire blamed me for the loss of her arm. Even she might get angry over something like that.
The direct route was a kind of cowardice. I didn’t want to question Sumire, or confront Holly, or risk involving April’s superior intellect, so I charged blindly into a likely trap – or at the very least, a waste of time – because it was the least frightening option.
That probably says something about the intimidating nature of the women in my life. Or something about me. Damned if I know.
The train rattled into the station at Iram. My mind ached with possibilities.
The prosperous streets of Iram were thinly populated with shoppers braving the cold rain that battered the hood of my jacket. The night shift was in full swing, the g
hastly moon leered down in suffocating proximity, and my breath turned to fog in the cold air. The rain leaked between my gloves and the sleeves of my jacket, soaking the fabric of the interior and chilling my fingers. It was, all things considered, a miserable night.
Holly provided me with her typically exact directions, along with a hand drawn map of the area to illustrate the bewildering twists and turns typical of the streets of the Nameless City, as if deliberately designed to madden the pedestrian. I sincerely pitied whomever had to deliver the mail.
I passed several of Iram’s famous pillars; tens of meters of whitewashed ceramic, baked in primordial kilns centuries before the arrival of humanity, tapering near the top to provide a narrow circular platform. A few featured winding bamboo staircases grafted to the sides, offering the adventurous the opportunity to take in the view from the top of one of the pillars. The signs were in an unfamiliar Eastern script, a squat and simplified kanji that I found oddly welcoming. Some of my fellow pedestrians hurrying home in the rain appeared to be servants, wrapped in the colors of their households, while the rest were tradespeople and masked, anonymous nobles.
Here and there, on the corners, I passed uniformed officers of the Rail Police, who typically limited their operations to the Black Trains and the stations they served. I had never actually seen one of them on the streets of the Nameless City, a weather-beaten overcoat protecting the tassels and flair of his elaborate dress uniform, and caught myself staring as I passed the first of them. He offered me a suspicious look and a sneer, whispering into his antiquated handheld radio, but made no move to follow me.
My paranoia ratcheted up to unprecedented levels, I slunk through the wet streets of Iram, doing my best impression of a ghost.
Holly’s elegant cursive was blotched by the rain, and I nearly missed the turn on Carver Heights. Rain and darkness obscured the sign, the street little more than an alley wedged between a gleaming office tower and an expensive residential hotel. The asphalt quickly and improbably gave way to cobblestone, the smooth contours of the stones slick with rainwater. The alley widened as I followed it toward the outskirts of Iram, massive commercial towers slowly giving way to smaller apartments, and eventually, private residences.
The Mysteries of Holly Diem (Unknown Kadath Estates Book 2) Page 11