Now, alone with Byron and William, Jane got down to business.
“Why are you here, and who is he really?” she asked.
“He has a name,” said Byron.
“I’m sorry,” Jane apologized, smiling at William.
William nodded. “Not at all,” he said. “Byron always has been a bit maddening.”
“I told you, you have to call me Brian,” Byron said, putting his hand on William’s knee. He looked at Jane and winked, “Unless we’re in the bedroom. Then he calls me Daddy.”
“I believe it’s the other way around,” said William, raising an eyebrow. This gave him a rakish look that Jane found rather appealing.
“I’m guessing you’re a vampire,” she said.
“Very good,” Byron said. “I’m impressed.” He turned to William. “I told you she’s not terribly good at the whole being-undead thing.”
“It took me some time too,” William said kindly.
“Thank you,” said Jane. To Byron she said, “Now I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”
Byron sighed. “Fine, fine, fine,” he said. “I heard a rumor that you might be having a little trouble with Our Gloomy Friend.”
Jane was surprised. “Charlotte?” she said. “You mean it isn’t Joshua?”
“Joshua?” said Byron. “Why ever would you think it was Joshua? The man’s an imbecile. Very sweet, and an excellent kisser, but really rather stupid.”
“Charlotte?” Jane said again. “And who told you that?” she asked.
“Do you remember our trip to New York?” Byron said.
“Of course,” said Jane. She immediately pictured Solomon Grundy, remembered what day it was (Friday), and felt a pang of sadness that he would be dead on the morrow. “Why?”
Byron indicated William. “William’s sister happens to be Alice, Solomon’s wife.”
“But you said she’s not a vampire,” Jane reminded him.
“Darling, just because people are siblings it doesn’t mean they have to be the same type of creature,” said Byron. “Remember, most of us are made, not born. Anyway, Alice happened to mention to William that we had come in.”
“She’s an inveterate gossip,” William said.
“Which in this case is a good thing,” said Byron. “Because as it happens, William is friends with your husband.”
“Walter?” Jane said.
“No,” Byron said. “The other one.”
“Oh, him again,” Jane said. “How do you know—Never mind. Go on,” she told Byron.
“William happened to mention to Joshua that he’d had news of you,” Byron continued.
“Which explains how he knew I was in London,” Jane said, ticking that particular mystery off her list.
“And Joshua told William that he’d recently seen Our Gloomy Friend and your name had come up,” said Byron. “So when William told me all of this I got suspicious.”
“You think Joshua told Charlotte I was coming?” Jane said.
“I didn’t know it was a secret,” said William. “I’m very sorry.”
Jane waved a hand. “Oh, it’s not your fault,” she said. “You had no way of knowing.”
“So that’s why I’m here,” said Byron. “And from what I’ve heard, it’s a good thing I came.”
“What have you heard?” Jane asked, wondering whom he could possibly have spoken to.
“Well, about Miriam,” Byron answered. “I understand she’s gone missing.”
Jane nodded. “Suzu’s behind that,” she said. “She and Bergen—”
“Who?” said Byron.
“Suzu,” Jane said. “She’s a vampire. From Japan.”
“I’ve never heard of her,” Byron said. He looked at William. “Have you?”
William shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”
“And there are so few of us from that part of the world,” Byron said. He looked a Jane. “Are you sure she’s a vampire?”
“I’m not a complete imbecile,” Jane said. “Yes, she’s a vampire. She arranged for Miriam to be kidnapped. And she told me that if I don’t give her Crispin’s Needle she’ll kill her.”
“Crispin’s Needle?” said Byron. “Really? That old story?”
“I haven’t heard anyone speak of that in over a century,” William said.
“Well, I’d never heard of it at all,” said Jane. “It’s one of the many things you’ve never told me about,” she added, giving Byron a look of disappointment.
“Because it’s hardly worth mentioning,” Byron replied. “It doesn’t exist.” He paused. “You haven’t been looking for it, have you?” he asked Jane.
Jane shrugged. “Here and there,” she admitted. “I didn’t set out to, but once Gosebourne told me about it I thought it might help with my situation with Walter. And then I kept finding little clues here and there, so even though it seemed like a wild goose chase I let myself hope it might be true.”
“Gosebourne,” Byron said. “Now it all makes sense. You know that he and Our Gloomy Friend were lovers.”
Jane gasped. “No, I didn’t know that either. Apparently I don’t know anything.”
“She probably set the whole thing up,” William said. “She hoped you would find the Needle and save her the trouble.”
“That sounds like her,” Jane agreed. “But then what does Suzu have to do with any of this?”
“That I don’t know,” said Byron. “But we’ll find out. And we’ll find Miriam.”
“How?” Jane asked.
“You’re going to find Crispin’s Needle, of course,” Byron said.
“But you said it doesn’t—Oh, I see,” said Jane. “We’re going to lie. But I still don’t know how to contact Suzu.”
“Trust me, she’ll be in touch,” Byron said. “We just need to be ready for her when she comes.”
“How are we going to fake the Needle?” Jane asked.
“Questions, questions, questions,” Byron teased. “Why is the sky blue? Where do babies come from? Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
Jane glared at him.
“There’s a blacksmith shop in town,” said Byron. “We’ll have him make something more or less needlelike. After all, nobody knows what this thing looks like anyway.”
Jane could find no fault with this plan other than the fact that it all hinged on a million variables over which they had no control. She just had to hope it worked.
“I can’t believe Joshua knows Our Gloomy Friend,” she said.
“She knows a lot of people,” said Byron. “You’ve hidden yourself away in the colonies for so long that you’ve lost touch with the community here.”
“I was never in touch with it,” Jane reminded him. “At least not very much. But I suppose it’s still my fault. It generally is.”
“I told you she was like this,” Byron remarked to William.
“Like what?” said Jane.
“Like you are,” said Byron. “Now let’s get into town and get this needle made. We want to be ready when what’s-her-name calls.”
“Suzu,” Jane said.
“When Suzu calls,” said Byron. “William, can you handle this?”
“I think I can manage,” William answered, standing up and pulling on a coat. “I’ll see you two later.”
“What are we going to do?” Jane asked Byron.
“We’re going to say goodbye to all your new friends,” said Byron.
This was a much more emotional experience than Jane expected it to be. Although she was not at all sad to be saying goodbye to Enid and Genevieve, she found herself clinging tightly to Orsino as she wished him buon viaggio, and telling Sam not to be a stranger. Brodie kissed her for slightly longer than was probably polite, but she didn’t mind, and when she hugged Chumsley it was with genuine affection that she told him to keep his pecker up. As the bus drove away, she stood next to Walter and waved until the bus turned the corner and no one could see her anymore.
“That was some trip,” Ben said
as they went back into the villa.
“I know I’ll never forget it,” Walter added. “One interrupted wedding, a death, and my mother running off with a German architect. I’d say that’s pretty memorable.”
“That reminds me,” said Byron, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “This came for you. I’ve been picking up your mail. This looked important, so I thought I should bring it.”
He handed Jane an envelope.
“It’s from the General Register Office,” Jane said as she opened it. She took out a piece of paper and ran her eyes over it. “It says that the marriage between Joshua Mobley and Elizabeth Jane Fairfax has been declared null and void due to the presiding vicar having improperly acquired credentials.”
She looked at Byron, who suddenly seemed to have something in his eye, as he looked away and rubbed it vigorously.
“Joshua said he would look into this,” she said. “I must say, I didn’t expect him to actually do it.” She turned to Walter. “I suppose I’m free to marry you now. If you’ll still have me.”
“You’re sure there are no other husbands floating around?” Walter asked.
“Very sure,” Jane said.
“Then I’m game if you are,” said Walter. “But I would like to wait until my mother decides to come back, if that’s all right.”
Jane’s happiness flooded away. “Of course,” she said, forcing herself to sound happy. “We wouldn’t want her to miss it.”
“That reminds me,” said Walter. “I want to call home and see if she’s left a message there. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t be long,” Jane said. “And if you talk to Miriam, tell her that if she wants to be my matron of honor, she’d best get herself back to us.”
When Walter was out of earshot she turned to Byron. “How did you arrange this?” she asked, holding up the letter.
“I know a guy,” Byron said, in a perfect imitation of a Brooklyn accent. “Don’ worry ’bout it.”
“Well, thank you,” said Jane. She sighed. “You do take awfully good care of me.”
“You forget what I did to you the last time we were here,” Byron said. “After that, looking out for you is the least I can do.”
“It is strange being here, isn’t it?” said Jane.
Byron looked around. “That was all so long ago,” he said. “I like to think I’m a different man now. You weren’t the only woman I was cruel to that summer, you know.”
Jane took his hand and they started to walk back to the house. “I don’t know that we ever really change,” she said. “I think we just learn which parts of ourselves to lock away and which ones to bring out more often.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Byron.
“I generally am,” said Jane. “I wish I didn’t have to keep reminding you. By the way, something is puzzling me. If the Needle doesn’t exist, why have the Tedious Three been looking for it for so long?”
“The Tedious Three?” Byron said. “Have you run into them as well?”
“No,” Jane said. “I’ve only been told about them. Why? Do you know them?”
“Thankfully, no,” said Byron. “I know of them, of course, but I’ve never encountered them. As I understand it, they tend to keep to themselves, in all probability because no one can stand having them around. Hence the name, you see.”
“Yes, well they seem very interested in the Needle,” Jane said.
Byron snorted. “They’re librarians,” he said. “All they’re interested in is obscure, impossible things. Just forget about them.”
Jane did just that. An hour later William returned from town. Finding Jane and Byron in the kitchen, eating gherkins out of a jar and arguing over the proper way to make a croque-madame, he asked, “Is it safe?”
“Walter is taking a shower,” Jane told him. “Ben and Lucy are upstairs. Did you get the needle?”
William placed a bundle on the table. Untying the twine that held it closed, he unrolled a piece of thick canvas and revealed an iron spike. About nine inches long, it was completely unremarkable in appearance. One end was pointed and the other had a wide, flat head.
“It’s a bit plain,” Jane remarked.
“What would you have it look like?” asked Byron.
Jane shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just thought it would be more … mystical.”
“You mean like covered in runes?” Byron said. “Or perhaps a bit of elvish verse? This isn’t a Tolkien story.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, it’s supposed to be capable of restoring a soul. This looks like something you would use to keep the corner of a tent from blowing away.”
“I had him age it a bit,” William said, ignoring their bickering.
“It’s perfect,” said Byron. “This Suzu woman has no idea what it’s supposed to look like anyway.”
A thought occurred to Jane. “What if she insists on seeing if it works before handing over Miriam?”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Byron told her. “Right now we just have to wait for her to contact you.”
As the afternoon dragged on, Jane became more and more concerned that she wouldn’t hear from Suzu. She tried to be cheerful for Walter’s sake, but as the hours passed her anxiety grew. They had plans to return to London in the morning, and Jane worried that once they left Villa Diodati Suzu wouldn’t know where to find them.
Then, shortly before seven o’clock, the telephone in the hall rang. Jane, hearing it, went and picked it up. “Hello?” she said.
“Waiting for my call, I see.” Suzu’s voice was unmistakable. “Do you have the Needle?”
“Yes,” Jane said. “Is Miriam safe?”
“She’s alive,” said Suzu. “But not safe. She won’t be until you’ve handed over the Needle to me.”
“Where are you?” Jane asked her.
“London,” said Suzu. “You’re coming here tomorrow, I believe.”
“That’s right,” Jane said. “How did you know?”
Suzu laughed. “I know everything about you, Jane. Now listen carefully.”
Jane listened, memorizing Suzu’s instructions. Before she could ask anything more, Suzu hung up.
“Who was that?” Walter asked, coming out of the kitchen and handing Jane a glass of wine.
“The hotel,” Jane said. “I called them earlier to confirm our reservation.”
“Oh,” said Walter. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” Jane said. “Everything’s fine.”
Walter sighed. “I kind of hoped it was my mother,” he said. “I changed the message on the machine at home and told her where we are. I knew I should have brought my cell phone with me.”
“I’m sure she’s all right,” Jane said. “She’s probably living it up on the beach in St. Tropez or somewhere.”
“It’s March,” Walter said. “She’d need to wear a sweater on the beach in St. Tropez.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Jane. “This is your mother we’re talking about. She’s traveled all over the world on her own. She can handle herself.”
“You’re right,” Walter said. “And who knows, maybe when we get to London tomorrow she’ll be waiting for us.”
“Maybe she will,” Jane said, hoping she sounded convincing.
“Maybe she will.”
Saturday: London
IRON LILLY HAD BEEN STANDING IN CARTING LANE, JUST AROUND the corner from the Savoy, for well over a century. Day and night she was there, whatever the weather, enduring the people who wanted their photos taken with her (usually while holding their noses and making rude faces) and pretending not to hear the childish name they used to describe her street. Year after year she had done her duty, inhaling the gases sent up by the local sewer and burning them off in her cleverly-engineered pneumatic hood.
To the unaware she seemed to be an ordinary street light, albeit of a charming old-fashioned type, but in fact she was a Webb Patent Sewer Gas Lamp. Once her kind had bee
n plentiful, but now she was the only one left in London. In her time she had blazed without ceasing, thanks to the prodigious digestive activities of the customers of the nearby hotel and theater. Improvements in the city’s sanitation systems had lessened her workload, but she was still sometimes called into service and was more than just a curiosity.
It was beneath Iron Lilly’s watchful gaze that Jane waited for Suzu to appear. She carried in her arms, much as Mary surely must have held the newborn baby Jesus, the impostor Needle nestled safely in its canvas swaddle. She rocked it gently as she paced in a circle, hoping that things would go smoothly.
Suzu’s instructions were for Jane to be standing beneath Iron Lilly at precisely three-thirty in the afternoon. Ensuring that this happened had not been easy. A seven o’clock train from Geneva had gotten them to the Gare de Lyon station in Paris an hour before noon. Their train to London left Gare du Nord at one. Normally this would have given them ample time to get from one station to another, but Byron had insisted on making a detour to his favorite pastry shop for what he assured them were the most exquisite tartelettes au citron meringuée in all of creation. They may very well have been, but Jane and the others never found out, as apparently the shop in question had closed in 1937. This resulted in hard feelings all around, especially when they arrived at Gare du Nord with only five minutes to spare and were forced to run in an undignified manner to catch the train.
In the end, though, they had arrived in London as scheduled and checked back into the Savoy with just enough time for Jane to pee, splash some water on her face, and go over the plan with Byron one final time before leaving for her rendezvous with Suzu (a phrase, Jane couldn’t help but notice, that would make an excellent title for a film). Now she had nothing to do but wait.
She was slightly concerned about the plan, which hinged on Suzu being unaware of Byron and William’s presence. Not knowing the extent of her abilities, it was entirely possible that they had underestimated her. Jane hoped this was not the case, but as things had not gone smoothly up to this point, she was prepared to once again be met with difficulty. Compounding her anxiety was the fact that Walter knew nothing about what was going on and that his mother’s safety hung in the balance. He thought that Jane had run out to the chemist in search of dental floss, a flimsy last-second alibi she now regretted employing.
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