Lost By The River

by David Moynihan

  On the phone, I kept trying to grab Eveline, but it was that late hour, when men got off work but didn't have to see their wives just yet. Or whatever. Hell, you never knew when pro like that'd have to work it. Perils of a home-based business. I checked in with my buddy to see how one of Ansbach's other friends was doing. Waiting through the rings, it occurred to me that this was the kind of call you like to make in a location more distant from the sad throngs awaiting MoCo's bus services. But hey, I let the crowd see the how the other half lives, took another swig from my beer, and thought about booking another room at the hotel, just a space for me. And my own micro-fridge.

  What the hell was I still doing with these idiots? Money was ephemeral… Somehow I climbed the elevator with her salad, his soup, and, succoring myself somewhat, as fine a selection of fermented as the county's liquor monopoly would permit. Execgal and the Doctor were sitting on chairs awaiting my return. She sniffed at her meal unhappily, and Ansbach slurped his broth with passion.

  “Anybody else bust in?” I asked the pair. “Explosions, pipe bombs, dead bodies, financial reporters?”

  Neither answered in the affirmative. But one of the noises emanating from the doc led me to believe he was amused. These smart guys, they thrive on need novelty.

  “What's going to happen now?” she asked.

  Ansbach remained silent. The chick-in-charge looked to me.

  “We were thinking keep out of sight for a time.”

  “Yeah?”

  “But we were wondering whether you thought he might get caught on the run?”

  “Why?” I asked, as Ansbach, having abandoned a spoon to drink right from the container, spilled fluid onto his clothing, and moaned as the liquid seeped into his thighs. “He's pretty inconspicuous...”

  Ansbach raced into the bathroom, pulling down his pants as he fled.

  “Well,” she said, ignoring my sarcasm. “There's the possibility this location has been compromised.”

  “Yeah, and I still ain't heard what it was you were talking to cops about.”

  “I haven't talked to—” she began. I glared at her. Then at my beer. Then at her. “OK, OK. Look, I was just seeking some information. There's a lot riding on this. And no offense, Mr. Drake, but I have a lot riding on you. I wasn't quite comfortable with the situation.”

  “Then fire me.”

  “I—no. That isn't it. But there was a person on staff—on the force. I knew her. Friend of a friend of a classmate. She... did some checking into you.”

  “Right. And you were real subtle about why you were asking.”

  “I thought so. But you can never tell. Women can be very intuitive.”

  “Can be—can be. Can be awfully stupid. Look, I don't care. When do you want the Doc to make an appearance?”

  “Just a couple of days. I—this—we—we need some time here.”

  “You know, I can't hide him in the countryside. That's where the people who actually look at the wanted posters live. You know, poor slobs who still watch the local news.”

  “Mm.”

  “It's a hazard of the profession. You're there, pumping gas, killing time. A guy like Ansbach, his face comes on the screen, you got nothing to do but remember it.”

  “I—yes. Should we keep him here?”

  “Too risky. My strategy is to have the folks at the front desk paint me as a shameless drunk. Keep unmemorable. Unless Ansbach's gonna defecate into the sink later.”

  “I—that's a little too much information, Mr. Drake.”

  “Yeah, but I'm thinking we might have to tell him not to.”

  “I'll leave that to you.”

  “He seems to follow your instructions.”

  “I don't think this is helping matters.”

  “I'm out of help for the day.”

  “I—yes, Mr. Drake. I can see that it's now downtime for you.”

  “Hey, don't worry. I know I got shot at. I'm only getting plowed on beer. Wouldn't dream of having whiskey in my system. Besides, only the special stores carry that and there's none in walking distance.”

  “You wonder, Mr. Drake, why I doubted your professionalism.”

  “No. I don't care what you think about my professionalism. You couldn't find him; I did. You wanted it quiet; I kept it quiet. My methods were not part of the transaction.”

  “I—Dr. Ansbach—”

  The old man had returned. Probably been listening to us for a while. The sad look on his face seemed to have been generated, after years of empirical research, for the purpose of deriving sympathy from a gender apart from my own.

  Execbabe bit.

  “Oh, Dr. I'm so sorry to have spoken of you that way. But you must understand, we need to get you out of the picture for a time. But safely. And, well, available on short notice, when it turns out you're in no way responsible for the horrible things that have happened. And it seems that Mr. Drake's peculiar skills are what must be relied upon here... no matter how distasteful either of us finds the prospect.”

  Ansbach said nothing for a time, merely looked at both us. Mostly at her. God, he was wrecking my date. I was sure if I'd been out with her, I could have gotten a smash in the face. Not a slap, an all-out punch. There are some things so important to a guy that another man should, by instinct and the ingrained training borne by generations of physical punishment, know not to interrupt.

  “Out of the picture,” he repeated dumbly.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, where can I go then?”

  “We were wondering about that very same thing. I'm sure Mr. Drake has some suggestion for us. A comfortable place. He feels you cannot stay here. I, of course, must return to work.”

  They both looked at me.

  “Nah, I'm out of ideas. We've ruled out the countryside, we've ruled out housing you with anyone from Agate. And it doesn't seem like such a hot idea to put you on the road. Five, ten years ago we could have stashed you in a vacant place downtown. Now, there isn't anyplace downtown vacant. Not so vacant there's no risk of you not being noticed.

  “That's... a bit of a quandary then.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Should I turn myself in, do you think?”

  “No!” shouted Execgal.

  We both looked at her. Ansbach's interior notions of chivalry and the gentler sex were challenged. I wondered if he looked upon the wee lass in a new light.

  “Well,” I said calmly. “Perhaps you could put him up at your place for a time. Out of the way, and you'd be certain of where he was...”

  “I—”

  “I'm quite the simple houseguest,” said Ansbach.

  “You don't understand,” she began. “I live downtown. It's small. All my friends have condos, but the salaries from Agate weren't such that I could drop...”

  “Small is no matter,” said Ansbach. “I'd just stay on the sofa.”

  “I don't have a sofa—”

  “Well, there must be a futon left over from your college days...” I added.

  Ansbach brightened at this. Execgal not so much.

  “It won't work. I—I could be arrested for this. And the company...”

  She droned on. Neither of us believed her. Ansbach seemed to enjoy her discomfort even more than I did. But the Doc had an idea.

  “There may—” he began haltingly.

  “Yes,” offered the babe, desperate.

  “There may be one place I can remain for a few days. Inside the city. Public. But… an area of discretion.”

  “Huh?”

  “You see, there is a festival in the area. Downtown. A convention of sorts. Only, one can wear masks there. And fit right in. A hotel is connected to the affair. There may not be many rooms, of course. But one… always finds a place to sleep.”

  “Always?” I asked. “You've been to this thing before?”

  “Every year.”

  “So people know you go there?”

  “I—well, none of my colleagues at Agate are aware of my activities. And I always pay cas
h. In other cities, New York for example, there've been raids. But DC is much more open. Never a problem with police. But the vendors—they have to pay their taxes.”

  “What sort of 'convention' is this?”

  “It's the Red Robes.”

  “What?”

  “I suspect Mr. Drake knows about them.”

  “Heard the name.”

  “Have you ever been, Mr. Drake? You seem so… official. You'd be quite popular with many of the participants.”

  “Ain't my thing.”

  “What thing?” asked Execgal “What are you two talking about?”

  “I assume you have sufficient facial covering?”

  “A harlequin mask.”

  “We might want to disguise your height as well.”

  “Not difficult. I just purchased some exquisite boots.”

  “There was information about this show.”

  “Should someone come to see me there. Well, the community takes care of its own.”

  “They'd go to bat for you?”

  “I am… somewhat popular there. If only for my expertise in matters of health. Why, last time, there was an incident with an onstage demo. Clamps too tight, you see. Inexperienced presenters. A real risk of infection. No great harm, but it is embarrassing, after all, to discuss lesions in sensitive areas. I provided treatment and discretion in equal measure.”

  “They'd do the same for you?”

  “Of course. Or I think so. My dues are paid up.”

  “When does it start?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Where's your gear?”

  “In the bags we've brought.”

  “I guess we'll do it.”

  “What the hell are you two talking about?” shrieked Execgal.

  “Allow me to explain,” began Ansbach. “There is, my dear, a community dedicated to the freedom of the individual. One founded upon the principles of trust and shared interests. Our members are just like you, most of the time, having jobs, careers, families. And only in the privacy of our homes or certain respected gatherings do we—”

  I let the Doc drone on about his dress-up org. Watching the eyes of Execgal shine, first with disgust, then curiosity, then interest. Part of me wanted to tell her it wouldn't be that good of a career move to join in. But then again in her case, maybe it would. The beer'd chilled long enough and I had rules about never keeping lager waiting.

  FOURTEEN

  Through the fog of hangover, I wondered what the hell kept me with these idiots. Doc lay on the bed, gurgling to himself. Execgal had smartly booked the room for another day and given us a wakeup call set for 1:30... time to recover but still avoid the worst of traffic. Management material, that one. Strength of any company's its personnel. Everything said split this vaporware joint, and run for it. There was enough cash around to keep me in booze for a time and I had the added benefit of getting career boosts when folks couldn't find me to take their weak-assignments.

  Promised wireless internet in the hotel wasn't up that day. Maybe the police raid. More likely budget limitations on the part of the franchise owner. I dropped $10 and used the TV hookup with an infrared keyboard ergonomically fitted to the sort of wrists and digits one finds struggling with child-proof medicine caps.

  Delay.

  All I could pull up were bus schedules. A good way to leave town, sure, but the bus? Ansbach started to move like he'd wake up, so out of embarrassment I quickly surfed away from travel to pictures of naked women. The grainy photos looked like hell on screen, ruining redheads for me, but as he showered some kind of nanny blocker kicked in and dropped me offline but left my active fantasy life intact.

  The Doc emerged, toothpaste on the side of his mouth.

  “You, eh, don't like me much, do you, Mr. Drake?”

  “I don't really like anybody.”

  “We've not, eh, discussed your peculiar line of work.”

  “I only talk about it when I'm making a sales pitch.”

  “Right. Yes, your lack of interest in basic conversation. I suppose it is an asset to a man in your profession. A bit of the stoic to you.”

  “Something like that.”

  “You are, of course, an outsider to others in your profession? They don't… share your methods?”

  “Yeah, you find there's some suits out there, detective firms in the same business. What I do with a focused approach, they try to achieve with excess manpower. Of course, getting one guy after another in your face, doesn't always make somebody want to keep quiet. Better to work alone.”

  “Eh-heh. And you feel that you can work on this matter, with me?”

  “I don't know, Doc. To be honest, I figure you're going down for this. It's not my problem. For whatever reason, she don't want you to go down for it, yet. I'm good at delaying things. Maybe you get out of this thing pleading to manslaughter. Or insanity. High-stress job you're in, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Behavior's been erratic?”

  “Yes.”

  “Been disconnected lately in regards to your friends, family or peers?”

  “I—yes.”

  “There you go. You won't do too much time. You want to put the extra freaky on at this little shindig we're heading to, be my guest. I'll have your back either way. But stay cool. And stay quiet.”

  “I wonder whether you have my best interests at heart, Mr. Drake?”

  “Doc, from what I know of these shows, your boss/assistant/whatever the hell it is she does, is paying me to go and look at naked people. Not that that doesn't happen downtown, but the nudes in question won't be protesting war. Or Latin American trade policies. Or the cruel death of small furry animals. Some of them might even be young and in shape. I wouldn't spend a lot of time worrying about my motivations.”

  “And you aren't concerned with the details... of my situation. You know, Mr. Drake, it's quite possible I'm a dangerous person. To myself. To others. To you?”

  “I'll keep that in mind. The job requires I not turn my back on ya. Or do you have something else you want to tell me about what happened to your boss?”

  “I—no.”

  “Some appointment you kept with him that nobody knew about?”

  “No.”

  “And nobody's seen you with him lately, since you pulled your vanishing act?”

  “No.”

  “Been feeding a craving for Chinese lately?”

  “I—what?”

  “You know, egg rolls, chopsticks, Kung Pao. Upper scale. Soup made out of shark fins, maybe?”

  “I, well... I don't think I want to talk about that, Mr. Drake.”

  “Already have some of the details. If you wanted to fill me in a bit more. Just guys, you know. Friend you might have met at a hotel...”

  “Not interested in this discussion.”

  “Maybe worked the place with some friends of hers. It's not the gal herself I'm interested in, Doc. You understand. Be honest, she's staying with a pal of mine. But her employer...”

  “It's some friend's friend.”

  “Yeah, I met 'em. Great bunch of guys. They're looking for you. Think they'll be at this show?”

  “No. They're not familiar with it.”

  “Really? They seem to know everything about you, Doc.”

  “Yes. They do, don't they?”

  “That question rhetorical?”

  “I—no.”

  “How'd you ever get involved with them anyway?”

  “I—you know, it's hard to say. There were a few conferences. You meet up with people. Business cards are exchanged. I'm quite familiar with that culture. You really should pay close attention to the business card, read it carefully, store it in your wallet.”

  “Yeah. Right. Go on.”

  “I—they met me. And somehow they invited me to give a lecture. And after the lecture, they took me aside. A few of them. It was quite the encounter...”

  “Drinkies?”

  “I, no, too early for me. Err, oh. Yes, there wer
e some drinks served. But not too many, you see. I understood, their culture, it—well, not like the old meetings we had in Oxford, I tell you.”

  “Got it. They asked what you liked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Made a few offers?”

  “Mm—well.”

  “Cash in the envelope? Handle additional research expenses?”

  “I—hmm. Well—”

  “Right. When was the first scheduled lecture date?”

  “I—you, Mr. Drake are somewhat more familiar with these matters than I expect. I was supposed to head, across the Pacific, for a series of dates. But they handled a few meetings here. It can be—useful, to have a bit of additional cash around.”

  “But that dried up a while ago, right?”

  “I—well, but there would be more. It's not—I didn't ask for it, you see. I just ran out of it. And they weren't as forthcoming. Of course, there weren't the dates available for speaking. One can only do so much speaking on the issues inside the Washington area. Or New York. I went—once, to New York.”

  “They got the measure of you. And you probably told them all about your company, right? The money situation?”

  “I—well, it wasn't—privileged, Mr. Drake. It was merely a bit more information than you could find... easily. And the questions were so innocuous.”

  “Like, hey, how about that cleaning staff? They still getting your office done?”

  “Huh. We've lost most of our cleaning staff since—oh, yes. I see, Mr. Drake. You are quite good at ferreting out information... also.”

  “Doesn't take a genius, Doc. Experience, maybe. And only when it affects me or my client. So, the bucks ran out. Out of curiosity, when'd you guys first get approached about a sale?”

  “I—a sale. Well, Mr. Drake. Of course, there are always chances for a sale. It is, you see, a part of the business. Often we lose money. A fortune. An incredible fortune. And the only thing we have that is valuable is our drugs—our compounds—ourtechnology —which may or may not even work.”

  “Swampland in Florida.”