“I am a baby, left alone by his parents, not sure if they will ever come home, and absolutely sure that there are demons ready to devour us.” He sat, closed his eyes, and stretched his legs, elongating his back, not to get the kinks out, but to contain his fear without curling up into a ball and becoming a fetus. “I will have to kill my uncle.”
“How will you do that without being arrested for murder?”
“It doesn’t matter if I am arrested.”
“How would you kill him?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s the difference between you and him. He would know just how to kill you in a dozen ways without thinking too much about it, and they would never connect him to any of them.”
“So?”
“So, you are not capable of killing him. That’s not what you’re good at. His men would bring you down before you got within spitting distance.”
There was a knock at the door to the suite, and a voice announced itself as room service.
“Come in,” Levitin responded.
The door opened, and three waiters and a busboy entered, all of them rolling food carts. They began uncovering silver food warmers, bustling over their guests. They worked as a team, finding space on several tables to spoon and ladle out portions of the food into dishes, uncorking both a white and a red wine, forking various cheeses onto plates, laying out napkins and place mats, glasses and silverware. Finally, they stepped back.
The senior waiter flourished a hand. “Paillard de Veau, Beurre de Citron; Saumon Poché, Sauce Hollandaise; Supreme de Poulet en Croute de Sesame et Parmesan; Oeufs à la Niege.”
Jana raised a hand to stop him. “We’re fine by ourselves now.”
The headwaiter handed her a bill and a pen. Not knowing what else to do, she signed the bill. The headwaiter bowed, and they trooped out, silently closing the door behind them.
The humor of the situation, with the waiters in their penguin uniforms, the huge number of gourmet dishes served while they contemplated murders and threats of more murder, made Jana laugh.
Her laughter had a hysterical quality to it. She tried to fight it, unsuccessfully. Finally, she used the only remedy she knew, pushing a fingernail as hard as she could into the back of her head, then focusing on the pain. The laughing finally stopped.
“Feeling better?” Levitin asked, a touch of mockery in his voice.
“No.” She thought for a moment. “I’m frightened; you’re frightened. The only one who does not appear frightened is Sasha.” Jana thought about the young woman’s strength. No one could be that strong. Jana had almost missed it. “Sasha, in the bathroom! She is in trouble!”
Jana ran to the bathroom. The door was locked. She yelled at Levitin, “Kick it in.”
Levitin kicked the door, snapping the lock. The two of them darted inside. Sasha was sitting in the shower. The water cascading over her ran red. She had slit her wrists.
Chapter 54
An hour after they got her to the hospital, a nurse appeared to inform them that Sasha was in no danger. Another hour passed before a rather bored young emergency-room doctor found them, and between deep pulls on a cigarette, told them that the cuts on Sasha’s wrists were not deep. He exhaled a steady stream of smoke as he related that the sutures had been put in the right places, there were no tendons involved, she had a full range of motion, and she needed to rest. They could go up and see her. He then strolled off, lighting another cigarette with the stub of the one he had just finished.
They walked up one flight and along the corridor to the room number the floor nurse had given them. Just before they got there, it was opened from the inside by a male attendant stationed in the room to make sure the patient didn’t try to kill herself again.
Jana and Levitin pulled up chairs and sat next to Sasha on opposite sides of the bed. The attendant relaxed in a corner of the room, his face buried in Le Monde. Sasha’s eyes stared at the ceiling; her wrists were bandaged, and both hands were strapped to the bed frame. Levitin tried to get her attention.
He patted her on the shoulder, whispering her name. She did not respond. He repeated her name, louder this time. Again, there was no response. Then he began talking to her, adoration apparent in his voice.
“The ball last night, it was a triumph. They worshiped you. We watched you enter the room, the people bowing and reaching out to touch your gown, all of them royalty themselves because you were there. Your bearing was that of a princess. You owned everyone in the building, myself included. You were more than a princess: you were a goddess.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, aware that he was not getting through to her, changing his approach, his tone now pleading. “You are that person, Sasha. The goddess. Not the one who was beaten by our uncle. He is not a man. Men do not do what he did. But you, you are a woman of strength, a woman with steel in her spine. Anyone who was there knew it. You must know it as I know it. Sasha, I know you are strong. Tell me I am right, Sasha. Tell me!”
A full minute passed before Sasha turned her head toward him. Her voice was soft, but clearly audible, with a throaty quality that Levitin had not heard before. “I killed Sasha. I had to. She had to go so I could come here.”
Levitin looked shocked. “You are not dead, Sasha. We are talking, you and I, brother and sister, like we used to talk.”
Sasha tried to raise her arms, abruptly becoming aware that they were strapped to the bed. “Why have they tied my arms?” She began to strain, attempting to twist her wrists free. Levitin held one arm down, Jana the other, trying to stop her from doing additional damage to herself.
“You have to stay still, Sasha.” Levitin held her tighter as she continued to struggle. “Please stop, Sasha. You will only hurt yourself more.”
She stopped. “I told you, I am not Sasha. Don’t be afraid. It is not because of Uncle; it is not because of Sasha. It is because of me. For the other man; so he would like me. He could not like Sasha.”
Jana walked around to Levitin’s side of the bed, the side Sasha had turned to. “Sasha, I think you are going to be all right.”
Sasha shifted her eyes, focusing on Jana. “Sasha, yes, she is all right. She is fine where she is.”
Jana tried to penetrate the closed circuit Sasha had created. “Please listen carefully. Try to help us. We don’t understand: Where did Sasha go?”
“To heaven. God excused her from earth.”
Levitin began to quietly weep, the tears rolling down his face. Jana watched him for a moment, deciding that he didn’t need her immediate help, then turned back to Sasha.
“Would you like the straps taken off your arms?” Jana was now careful not to use Sasha’s name.
“You can’t take the straps off,” Levitin mumbled. “It would be dangerous.”
Jana didn’t bother to answer him. She untied one of Sasha’s arms, then went to the other side of the bed, ignoring Levitin’s look of disbelief, untying the second strap.
The orderly in the corner looked over the top of his paper, then apparently decided he did not want to interfere. Sasha flexed her fingers, then lifted one arm close enough to examine the bandages on her wrist, then lifted the other arm, entwining the fingers of both hands, then stretching.
“Would you like help in sitting up?” Jana didn’t wait for an answer, slipping an arm around Sasha’s shoulders, and, with Sasha’s silent cooperation, managed to bring her to a sitting position, then propped her up with pillows. “Better?”
Sasha nodded.
“Can you tell me who you are? Now that Sasha is gone, you must have a new name.”
Sasha gave Jana a very solemn nod. “I’m the Siren of the Waters.”
Jana smiled. “A very nice name.”
“Thank you,” Sasha responded, still very solemn. “Maybe we should thank him. He named me.”
“Who is he?” Levitin tried to enter the conversation, Jana glared him back into silence.
“Forgive our friend. He is really a nice man most
of the time. Generally he has better manners and doesn’t interrupt.”
“Sasha told me he was nice,” the Siren of the Waters informed Jana. “He can be a good friend.”
“I’m happy Sasha feels the way I do.” Jana sat at the head of the bed next to Sasha. She indicated Levitin, whose face had softened on hearing that his sister liked him. “You see, Mr. Levitin feels better now that he knows you are not angry at him.”
Sasha shook her head. “I’m not angry at him.”
“That’s very good.” Jana though about her next words very carefully. “Sasha tried to kill herself. You won’t try to kill the Siren of the Waters, will you?”
Sasha considered the question. “No. I couldn’t. He wouldn’t like that.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Jana reviewed what Sasha had said. “The man who named you, the man who wouldn’t like you to hurt yourself, who is he?”
The Siren of the Waters became even more solemn. “I think he is my angel.”
Jana winced. The girl was sinking deeper into her dream world. Jana tried once more. “Does your angel have a name?”
“He is the emperor of the angels, God’s will on Earth. He is the king of all he sees.”
Jana continued to push for an answer. “His earthly name; tell us his earthly name, Siren of the Waters.”
Sasha focused on the question. “He was once called. . . .” She tried to pull the answer out of her memory, but failed. “I can’t remember.” She brightened. “It doesn’t matter. Angels can have any name they want.” She lay back on the bed. “I’m tired. I think I need to sleep.” She closed her eyes.
Levitin came out of his corner, walked to the bed, looking down at his sister, then kissed her on the forehead. “Have a nice journey, Sister.”
Jana pushed him away. “Not now! Wait!” she hissed at him, frustration getting the better of her. “I need the answer to one more question.”
“She’s tired,” Levitin grumbled.
“Too bad!!” Jana leaned over Sasha, clutching her shoulders, shaking her. “Siren,” she commanded. “Open your eyes. One more question.”
Sasha’s breathing began to slow as she drifted into sleep. Jana shook her more forcefully, Sasha’s head bobbing up and down. “I have one more question, and I will keep on shaking you until you give me the answer. Do you hear me, Siren of the Waters? I will keep on shaking you!” Jana became even more vigorous. “Who is the Manager?”
Jana abruptly slapped Sasha across the face, waited, then continued striking her. Levitin tried to pull her away, but Jana shrugged him off.
Sasha’s eyes popped open.
Jana leaned closer, holding Sasha’s face between her hands. “Sasha, Siren of the Waters, who is the Manager? Is it your Lord of the Angels?”
Sasha smiled sweetly. “How could he be the Manager when he’s an angel?”
Jana could feel the frustration building inside her. “If he is not the Manager, then who is?”
“The other one.” Sasha’s eyes closed and she immediately fell asleep.
Jana let go of the girl. “Why would someone want the Siren of the Waters so badly?”
Levitin shook his head. “Right now, I have no idea. Worse, I’m no longer even sure who I am.”
The attendant finally poked his head out from behind his paper. “Sometimes I feel like doing that to some of the patients.”
“Well, don’t,” Jana warned him.
“I would never do it.”
“Good,” Jana approved.
“I haven’t interfered, have I? I stay out of a patient’s business,” the attendant apologized.
“You haven’t interfered,” granted Levitin, pulling money out of his pocket, shoving it into the man’s hands.
“I didn’t ask for money.” The attendant held it out for Levitin to take back. Levitin waved him off.
“Time to leave,” the orderly suggested.
“Time to leave,” Jana agreed, discouraged by how little information she had obtained. She walked to the door, reproaching herself for having used force against a girl who was bedridden and half-crazy. “Next time you have a patient whom someone is abusing, you are to stop it. Understand?”
The man retreated behind his paper.
Jana’s voice took on an official warning tone. “I asked if you understood me.”
“Yes,” came from behind the paper.
“Take care of my sister,” Levitin ordered, as both he and Jana walked out of the room.
The orderly waited a moment, then put the paper down and went over to the bed. He looked down at Sasha, and her eyes opened.
“Did I do well?” she asked.
He smiled down at her. “My Siren of the Waters could never do anything badly.”
Chapter 55
They sat on a bench overlooking one of the beaches lining the bay. Neither Jana or Levitin had much to say. Both were brooding over the day’s events. Levitin was depressed by his sister’s suicide attempt and her flight from reality. Jana, involved in running over the events that began with the murders in Slovakia, paid little attention to his mood. They both ignored the occasional passerby, each focused on his and her own thoughts. Levitin, however, began conducting a vivid conversation with himself, interfering with Jana’s reflections. She slapped him on the knee to bring him out of it.
“I can’t hear myself with your gabbling.”
“I didn’t ask you to listen.”
“How can I help it? You’re sitting next to me.”
“Okay, I’ll watch it,” he grumbled, shifting uneasily in his seat. The quiet lasted for a few seconds, then he said, “She was faking it.”
“Sasha?”
“Yes.”
“The cuts on her wrists were real.”
“But not deep.”
“Maybe it was a cry for help? People have all kinds of ways to signal. Some of the ways they choose are crazy. I’ve seen it before.”
Levitin shook his head adamantly. “Not her, not after that performance at the ball.”
“She wasn’t beaten by your uncle at the ball. He did it the next day. It could have affected her.”
“Yes,” he reluctantly allowed.
“Perhaps?” she reflected.
“Make up your mind,” he demanded.
“When I was slapping her to wake her up, my feeling was that she was not asleep.”
“So, maybe I’m right.”
“For her brother, you’re awfully unsure of yourself.”
“I’ve been wrong about her before.” He lapsed into silence. Then, in a slightly stronger voice: “I still think she was faking it.”
They watched the sea roll in, a last few hardy bathers being scattered by the tide. Jana got up, stepping to the iron railing on the concrete edge of the drop to the beach, leaning on it to watch the last of the sun go down. Levitin hesitated for a moment, than went over to stand next to her.
“Maybe you are right, Levitin.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The man in the corner of the room, the orderly. He had a tan.”
“He likes to sunbathe?” Levitin suggested. “The man has a sunlamp at home? Maybe he goes to tanning salons?”
“They’re all pasty-faced.”
“Doctors, nurses, interns, the whole lot?” He thought about it. “There’s always an oddball in the group.”
“With wing-tip shoes on?”
“The orderly had dress shoes on?”
“Yes.”
“My sister was faking it for the man in the corner?” He nodded. “She was putting on her performance at his instruction?”
“Yes.”
“A new face in the game; one not hired by those we’ve already met.”
“Maybe. At least not hired by them. There was no reason for her to put on that performance for them.”
“You think the man was Koba?”
“The only things we know about that man are the shoes he wore and that he was tanned.”
Levitin moved bac
k to the bench and stood on it, then rotated slowly in a 360-degree arc until he faced Jana again.
“What are you doing, Levitin?”
He smiled down at her. “Getting a different perspective on things. It helps. The world looks different. Even colors change from the variation in the angle of the light. So you think differently. Join me.” He held out his hand for her.
Jana jumped up on the bench, turning the same 360 degrees that Levitin had rotated.
“Yes, different,” she agreed.
An old couple passing by, both with canes, stopped to look up at them, wondering if the two had joined a mutual insanity society, finally deciding they were not dangerous, and walked on.
“Let’s talk,” Jana suggested.
“We are talking.”
“From your different perspective.” Jana waved at the horizon. “Begin with the basic proposition that all the actors have taken the stage, and what we have to do is track back, using what we know of them, to verify the facts from our new perspective.”
“Good. Start.”
“Whether the orderly was or was not Koba, Koba wants us to stir the pot. Otherwise there is no reason to make even a brief appearance.”
“How is our stirring the pot going to help him?”
“He’s engaged in a war. He wants to make sure he has identified all the combatants and the sides they are on. Once he has, then he will take action.”
“With Koba, that means killing people.”
“Yes.”
They paused to watch a small fishing boat chug across the bay, rounding the spit of land leading to the small port that serves Nice.
“It’s got to be cold out there.”
“Cold, but peaceful.”
The boat disappeared around the point, a small wake all that was left. The sea birds were crying less, the city noise reduced to traffic and the occasional horn of an impatient driver.
Jana felt the night cold creeping in. “He knows who is against him. The more he baits the hook, the more the fish fight over it. Then, maybe they’ll become cannibals, eating each other.” She paused. “If they don’t chew each other up, he will. I think he only wants to know one thing for sure, now. The name of one person.”
Siren of the Waters: A Jana Matinova Investigation, Vol. 2 Page 25