“Certainly worth a phone call,” I said. I smiled at the thought of Lily’s journalistic ambition bringing her back into the sticky Manhattan summer. She had started a new job at the prestigious New-Star Ledger two months ago, though she seemed to clash with the editor in chief with some frequency.
The ushers forced the doors closed. Jimmy Walker shared a whispered word with the board president. The volume in the room lessened in anticipation. In the presenters’ corner, Elspeth held herself perfectly straight, her face a pleasant mask of polite interest. She had been an object of whispered innuendo since she had sat down. Apparently, not everyone approved that a vampire had been asked to present at this hearing. This didn’t surprise me, but it made me furious to hear the snickers and whispered looks that Elspeth ignored out of necessity. Beside her sat Archibald Madison, the influential leader and founder of the Safety Council. Madison was her political opposite in every respect—except for the matter of Faust. He opposed it for vastly different reasons, but this had caused no small amount of consternation among our set. Madison was a tall, thick man of at least fifty, with gray hair and late-Victorian muttonchops. Among his followers he was considered handsome, but I found his pale blue eyes and habitually choleric expression profoundly off-putting. Madison had swelled the Safety Council rolls with his strident Other-hating vitriol at packed public events.
Iris nudged me, more out of excitement than anything. The board president was finally calling the hearing to order.
“Mayor, distinguished guests. Today the Board will hear presentations from many perspectives regarding the pending vote on Resolution 43, being the full approval of the drink known as Faust, heretofore approved under temporary license given by the Board of Licensure in January. Our first presenter will be Archibald Madison. You have the floor, sir.”
The applause as he stood up before the Board surprised me; this wasn’t a Safety Council rally, after all.
“Gentlemen of the Board,” he said, nodding to them, “I am here to tell you, in all humility but with the truth of the Almighty behind me, that a plague has descended upon us! This plague cloaks its evil in the form and aspect of humanity, leading us to give these demons our sympathy and our love. Yes, love, I said. What wife would not love a husband, miraculously risen from the dead? What child would not love such a father? What brother such a brother? And yet these are but specters and apparitions, temptations of the devil and tests from God. We must exorcise these false creatures from our midst. The cleansing of vampires is our moral duty! And now Faust, that witch’s brew of tainted blood, has compounded our problem. It emboldens the vampire, makes him reckless and strengthens his essential evil.We are in the plague’s final stages if we believe for a moment that these creatures deserve anything more than a stake through their hearts and holy water in their eyes.”
He smiled faintly at the ensuing applause, like it was the least he felt he deserved. Iris and I stared at each other.
“Good god,” she said. “They invited that to speak?”
Elspeth sat as calmly as ever, but I could only imagine how it felt to be a vampire in the room at that moment—alone, facing a crowd who cheered your destruction.
* * *
Elspeth’s speech went over fairly well, given the circumstances. In her quiet but forceful manner, she laid out the facts of vampirism in this city (vampires constituted only five percent of the city’s population, as they had since the sixties), and the problem with Faust being one of vampire welfare and safety, not some existential danger to humans. Though you wouldn’t know it from reading the press, the chances of being turned from a vampire bite are around one in two hundred.
Iris and I led the applause, such as it was. But one of the aldermen called her back before she could reach her seat. “Miss Akil, if you could please just answer one question?” It was Fred Moore, a negro alderman representing one of the two Harlem districts. “I trust you have heard of the latest incident involving this drink? Would you argue that Faust’s implication in the matter of ten vampire deaths overnight gives a greater credence to the arguments for prohibition?”
A murmur went through the room. Iris gave my elbow a gleeful squeeze, as this was what she had encouraged Elspeth to say all along. But Elspeth, having paused a moment to consider her response, nodded. “It maybe so, sir, but the evidence is very thin right now. The bottles could have been poisoned, for all we know. Until the true cause can be ascertained, I am not comfortable making such a pronouncement, or capitalizing on these tragedies.”
A wave of whispered conversation overtook the chamber as Elspeth retook her seat. Iris shook her head. “I should have known!” she said.
“At least she’s consistent.” I felt sure she had taken the proper route, though I saw Iris’s point. If something about Faust had turned deadly, it would only strengthen our position.
The hearing concluded an hour or so later. Elspeth had tried her best to be persuasive, but I filed out of the chamber feeling discouraged. It felt more like a show trial than something designed to elicit information and debate.
The mayor and a woman I didn’t recognize were speaking with Madison on the floor of the chamber. I tried to hurry past, but he caught my eye and nodded cordially. I blushed. Had Elspeth or Iris seen? On no account could I tell them of my letter this morning. I needed to see what exactly tomorrow’s appointment with the mayor would bring. As I walked by, he was talking to Madison with a politician’s false heartiness. “Well, my friend, you’ve got to at least make it to the banquet this Saturday. We’re putting on quite a show—I just got word from Albany that Al might come down as well.”
Madison’s faint, supercilious smile didn’t waver. “As I’ve told Mrs. Brandon, the invitation is flattering, but I can’t say for sure. A man of my position must examine his affiliations very carefully…”
The drift of the crowd pushed me away before I could hear any more. The mayor really thought he could convert a demagogue like Madison to his side? Good news for us, then—such an improbable pursuit must mean he hadn’t yet secured the necessary votes to legalize Faust. On the steps outside, Iris took a leaflet from a man passing them out and fanned herself. Elspeth had covered herself thoroughly for the journey into the evening sun, but she stayed with us for a little longer.
“Madison has too much support,” Elspeth said, watching the earnest-looking young men passing out pamphlets to the lingering crowd. “He claims his Safety Council has doubled its membership in the last six months.”
“Piffle,” Iris said, “he would say so. The man thinks he’s the second coming of our Lord.”
“If only he would try to walk on water,” Elspeth said and I laughed.
The man himself descended the steps a moment later, smiling and shaking hands. Iris grunted and lowered her makeshift fan. For the first time, I noticed that the leaflet had been issued by the Safety Council.
The bold text was lurid and explicit: TRUST MADISON! STOP THE VAMPIRE SCOURGE! JUSTICE IS IN YOUR HANDS. IF BEAU JAMES WILL NOT STOP THE SUCKER PLAGUE, YOU KNOW YOUR MORAL DUTY.
“Have you read this?” I asked, taking the damp paper. Elspeth leaned over.
“He would never have dared write this a year ago,” she said. On the curb, Madison waved to the crowd and then climbed into a waiting sedan. For religious man, he didn’t seem to have much trouble flaunting his wealth: his shining blue Packard probably cost what I made in five years of work for the Citizen’s Council.
“Maybe his followers are the ones getting more radical,” Iris said.
But I frowned over the paper, wondering at the childlike caricature of a long-fanged vampire sinking his teeth into a young, beautiful woman. Radical and violent. A stake was pictured beside the words “moral duty,” and the implied message made me nauseous.
“Poison in the bottles could have killed those vampires,” I said.
Elspeth looked at me sharply. “It could have. And you think someone had a motive to put it there?”
“I think quit
e a few someones might have been convinced to stop the vampire scourge.”
“Murder!” Iris said so loudly that not a few people nearby turned. “But surely it’s more likely the Faust itself killed them! Given everything else it does.” Iris pouted, clearly frustrated by the possibility that these deaths might not help our cause as she had hoped. But I felt a pang at the thought of what such news would do to Amir. It sometimes seemed he felt guilty for bringing Faust into the city, but how much worse would it be if it turned out to kill vampires as well?
“Perhaps,” Elspeth said quietly. “But you will allow, Iris, that every other side effect of the drug was witnessed very early. And even though I doubt most of Madison’s followers are dedicated enough to take up this injunction…”
“Some might be,” I said. “If not Madison himself.”
“You don’t think!” Iris said, clearly warming to the theory.
Elspeth shrugged. “I doubt he would so dirty his hands. He’s far too savvy a political figure. But that doesn’t preclude his involvement—if indeed these were murders. Zephyr?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind looking into the matter?”
“Into Madison?”
“Yes. If he’s involved in some way, it would be good to know. Even if he isn’t, Madison is becoming a force to reckon with in the city.”
“But wasn’t I going to help you write letters and newspaper items?”
Elspeth waved her hand. “This is far more important. Iris and the others can help. But it seems clear to me that you have connections where we do not. The mayor knows you by sight.”
I bit my lip. So she had noticed, drat it all. “I’m still not sure—”
“If you will just try, Zephyr,” Elspeth said. “No one will judge you for failure.”
“Of course, Elspeth. I’ll do what I can.” I didn’t know how much good my sleuthing would do, but I admit the idea gave me a bit of a thrill.
“Well, I’m dead famished,” Iris declared. “Would you like to dine with me, Zephyr? And Elspeth, of course,” she added in hurried embarrassment. Elspeth declined graciously, claiming another appointment across town.
“But about that other matter, Zephyr,” Elspeth said, her voice lower. “It’s possible that I might have found a solution.”
It took me a moment to realize she was speaking about Amir. “You have?” I said, shocked. I had first asked her about this months before.
“Yes. It is not safe to mention here, but if you come to the office tomorrow, I’ll know for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
She said farewell to Iris and then hurried down the steps to the subway entrance. The sun had descended considerably as we talked.
“I’m hungry myself,” I said.
Iris laughed. “Zephyr, dear, if nothing else, your appetite can be relied upon.”
* * *
Iris took me to a wonderfully loud Italian restaurant on Mulberry Street, where we sat in the garden while Iris smoked and we both ate our weight in pasta. The whole place was packed with communists and anarchists, who periodically fired good-natured snipes at each other, like two pirate ships exchanging salutes. Iris procured Chianti and dessert, insisted on paying for everything, and hired a taxi to drop me off at Mrs. Brodsky’s. The driver took me back through Little Italy, across Broome Street, and I noticed that the Beast’s Rum—the speakeasy that had closed due its association with Rinaldo’s now-defunct gang—seemed to have reopened for business. Under new management? I had not seen a trace of the child vampire Nicholas or his Turn Boy friends since January, but I knew they’d survived the fracas. Still, even half-mad Nicholas wouldn’t have the gall to move right back into his murdered gangster daddy’s old bar, would he?
We passed not a few Faust street vendors as well, all of whom seemed to be doing a brisk business, to my surprise. Perhaps these vampires hadn’t heard of the strange deaths. Perhaps they didn’t think they were likely to get the poison apple.
Maybe they just didn’t care.
A message waited for me when I finally dragged myself through the door of Mrs. Brodsky’s. Katya was cleaning the kitchen. A pot of soup sat on the stove, and when I indicated I’d already eaten, she handed me a letter.
“From your brother, I think,” she said, in the thin voice that even now sometimes surprised me. For the first several months I had known her, Katya never spoke a word. We had attributed her silence to the shock from her husband’s sudden death on a construction site, though now she thankfully seemed to be recovering. The young widow helped Mrs. Brodsky with the chores in return for very little thanks and even less pay. She had given birth to her late husband’s child a few months before, and they both seemed to be doing well.
I opened the note, folded at a hasty diagonal on heavy watermarked paper, and recognized the handwriting as Harry’s. As for the cream stock with the discreet filigreed monogram of E.H. in the lower corner, I assumed it belonged to another one of the rich society boys that Harry would leave brokenhearted in a week or so. When Harry first ran away to the big city to join Troy’s Defenders, I hadn’t anticipated that particular complication. But in the event, it did not come as much of a surprise to learn of his preference for pretty young men—and theirs for him. Troy might have cared had he known, but the only thing that really mattered to him was his job. And Harry did that well. None of Daddy’s children were a slouch at demon hunting. Harry had made me swear on my life to never tell Daddy or Mama. Like Mama didn’t already know, I told him, but I promised anyway. This was New York City, after all, the land of minimal social taboos and self-reinvention. If he was enjoying himself, then I wished him the best of it.
Though five years my junior, Harry had developed a slightly abashed sense of protectiveness toward me. He periodically checked to make sure I was “getting on all right.” Like he had tonight.
Zeph—
Don’t know if you heard, there’s something strange happening to the suckers. Probably nothing dangerous, but I’ve heard the Faust’s now got poison in it. Or maybe it turned bad on its own? I even heard they didn’t pop. Be careful. I know you can take care of yourself, right, don’t fuss at me I’m just saying be careful.
See me tomorrow if you can.
Harry
PS Mama called. Said Daddy’s acting odd and keeps asking about you.
I stared at this letter while my thoughts chased each other like aging rabbits. If Harry said the Faust might be poisoned, then I had to take the possibility seriously. I would have to devise some means of investigating Madison. I sighed—the prospect looked daunting. Elspeth thought I had connections with the mayor, but I wondered what kind of connection his strange letter represented.
Aileen hadn’t yet returned when I climbed upstairs, but she was sitting on her bed when I returned from washing my hair. She was deathly pale, though the white dust on her collar told me the effect was due mostly to powder. But that didn’t explain the dark circles under her eyes or her unusually bleak expression.
“Did somebody die?” I asked.
“Besides those poor suckers, you mean?”
I sat down beside her, still in my robe. “So you had a jolly time with the ladies, then,” I said, forcing a smile out of her.
“Oh, much fun was had at the Spiritualist Society tonight,” Aileen said, waving her hand theatrically. “Just not by their resident Spiritualist. Christ Almighty and spirits preserve me, but those ladies work me like a dog. Four separate séances, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until the lights flickered and the room went cold and I channeled no fewer than six dead husbands. I felt like I was holding a jamboree.”
“You mean you pretended to channel them?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Aileen.”
“Bloody stakes, Zeph, what am I supposed to do? Go back to passing out on the floor in the bottle factory? The great ladies pay me to use my Sight. They don’t pay too badly, either, so I’d rather use this blighted curse for real money instead of eking
things out on Skid Row. If you don’t mind.”
She started pulling pins out of her hair and tossing them angrily on the floor. My heart felt like it was pulling apart in my chest. Hadn’t I promised Aileen that I’d help her find a way to control her Sight? But instead it had just gotten stronger and more compelling as the months passed. It exhausted and traumatized her to use it, but I could see her point: if she had such a strong gift, why not use it to make money?
“Aileen, I didn’t mean … You should do what you think is best. I just don’t want it to hurt you.”
Aileen laughed. “It’s not my idea of a picnic, doing this all the time.”
I wanted to promise that I would help her, but I knew better now. I just wrapped my arms around her waist.
“I’m tired,” she said to my shoulder.
“Me too,” I said.
CHAPTER THREE
I phoned Lily first thing Tuesday morning. I had awoken early, barely thirty minutes after dawn, overcome with nerves, the source of which I could not immediately identify. Then I recalled the other monogrammed letter that I had stuffed, along with the lilies, somewhere at the bottom of my clothes chest. The honorable Mayor James Walker had requested the pleasure of my company at four o’clock this afternoon. As I relished the thought of another encounter with agents McConnell and Zuckerman like I relished a fall in horse manure, I could not afford to miss it.
But until then, I had responsibilities.
I descended to the parlor in my kimono, my hair wrapped turban-style in a silk scarf that Harry had given me for my birthday. I had hoped that I might avoid the usual charade of asking Mrs. Brodsky for permission to use the phone by virtue of the early hour. But of course she was already seated in one of the chairs, reading glasses perched on her nose and correspondence laid out before her.
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