Angel City (33 page)

“Jesus!”

Officer Jannsen lowered the gun. “Kat . . . what are you doing down here?”

“What am I . . . What do you mean, what am I doing here? I live here. And how the hell did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Move like that.”

“Lots of training.”

“That wasn't fucking training, girl, that was a special effect.”

Officer Jannsen holstered her weapon.

“Is Max all right?”

“Sleeping like a . . . Jesus, why did you draw your weapon on me?”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“I heard you coming.”

“Walking on the grass. You heard me walking on the grass.”

“It's harder to walk quietly on grass than bricks. That and the air pressure.”

“What?”

“You were moving toward me, creating a wave of air ahead of you.”

Katherine stared at her. “Are you all right?”

“Oui, pourquoi?”

“Because you're acting weird. The Swiss Guard boys, I understand; they were born that way, but you're supposed to be normal.”

Officer Jannsen looked at her watch.

“It's almost eleven. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?”

“I was on my way, but I saw you from my window. Thought I'd come see what's up. By the way, what happened to the lights?”

“I've got one of the squads conducting night vision drills in the woods. I'm keeping the lights off for the night.”

“Ah.”

“Ah what?”

“Huh?”

“You're thinking something, Kat. What is it?”

“Nothing. It just looked like something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like you looking at the stars and thinking.”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“I was, actually.”

“So, what were you thinking?”

“Nothing.”

Katherine looked at her, her eyes then sinking to the Glock on her hip. “You're kind of scary tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because the first thing you thought of, after you were thinking about nothing, was killing.”

“That's what happens when you sneak up on someone who's been trained to kill. I've told you before, don't do that sort of thing. Not to me, not to any member of the protection detail.”

Katherine shrugged. “Okay. Sorry to bother you. Good night.”

She turned, walked toward the house.

“Kat, wait.”

Katherine turned back. “What?”

“Have you had your tea for the night?”

“Yup. But to be perfectly frank, I could use another blast after having a friggin' gun shoved in my face.”

Officer Jannsen stepped close to Katherine.

“How would you like to try it again?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I will go inside and put on the kettle . . .”

“. . . and I'll grab a couple of lounge chairs from the patio . . .”

“. . . make us both a cup of tea . . .”

“. . . and I'll get some blankets . . .”

“. . . we'll meet back here in ten minutes.”

“Deal.”

And in ten minutes, they were tucked in blankets on the lounge chairs, sipping cups of tea.

“How long will the boys be out there?”

“All night.”

“Poor them.”

“It's their job. Besides, they're boys, they like to rough it up now and again.”

Katherine snickered. “They're not the only ones.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I was joking. Almost.”

Katherine sat back in the chair, looked into the night sky.

“Wow, look at all the stars.”

“It's a new moon tonight.”

“You know, I never understood that one. Why do they call it a ‘new moon' when there's
no
moon?”

“It marks the beginning of the lunar cycle when the moon is in the shadow of the Earth.”

“That is such a Swiss cop answer. The facts, ma'am, just the facts. I know, why not call it a ‘shadow moon'?”

Officer Jannsen sipped her tea.

“That's a good name, actually.”

They sat quietly, watching the sky, only speaking when a shooting star crossed the sky; once, then again.

“Wow, look at that. It's a shooting star. The aliens are restless tonight.”

“There's another one.”

“Make a wish.”

Katherine sipped her tea, curled on her side.

“Can I ask you something, Anne?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I should have Max baptized?”

“What?”

“You know, baptized. Have a priest splash him with water, make the sign of the cross over him, make him part of the club.”

“Your family is Christian?”

“Oh yeah. And not just Christian, but Catholic. Big time. You?”

“My parents weren't believers.”

“They were atheists?”

“No, they just didn't believe in the religions of men.”

“So what did they believe in?”

Officer Jannsen looked back to the stars.

“All that.”

“Outer space?”

Officer Jannsen started to giggle, then she laughed.

“What? What did I say?” Katherine said.

“‘Outer space.' That is so American.”

“What's wrong with American stuff? Where would the world be without hamburgers, Coca-Cola, and rock and roll?”

“I don't mean it in a bad way. It wasn't even an American who coined the expression ‘outer space.' It was an English poet.”

“Really?”

“Lady Emmeline Stuart-Wortley, 1841, in ‘The Maiden of Moscow.'”

Katherine giggled. “Emmeline Stuart-Wortley. That's right up there with Corporal Sebastianus Fassnacht.”

“But not quite as bad as Herr Alexander von Humboldt.”

“Who?”

“A Prussian astronomer. He was the first one to use ‘outer space' in a scientific context. And then, of course, it was H. G. Wells who made it really popular in 1901 with
The First Men in the Moon
.”

Katherine shook her head.

“Jeez, the stuff you have crammed in your head would fill the Grand Canyon.”

“
Merci, madame,
I think.”

“No, really. It's something.”

“I don't think I'm much different from you.”

“Trust me, babe, you're
way
different from me.”

Officer Jannsen looked at Katherine.

“You'd be surprised.”

“Oh? You got a secret hooker past I don't know about?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Well, to begin with, we're both madly in love with a boy named Max.”

“This is true.”

Officer Jannsen sipped her tea.

“That really was a wonderful story you told Max tonight, Kat.”

“It was fun. And it helped.”

“How?”

“Because for the first time, I could see the good stuff about what happened to me in Lausanne. Hiding in the tower with Marc, becoming part of his imaginary world. It was a gift. And tonight, telling my story to Max, I felt . . . free . . . from fear. I mean, the fear's there, it always will be. But now I know there's something stronger than the fear. I don't know what it is, but I saw it in Max's eyes while telling him the story. It's like he understood, like he already knew.”

“Knew what, Kat?”

Katherine bit her lip.

“What is it?”

“Well, after what happened in Portland, I'm a little scared to say.”

“Go ahead.”

“I was thinking, telling Max the story, that there really are angels . . . maybe. We just can't see them. That's what I thought in the cathedral, and here I am, passing the thought to him. It was kinda comforting.”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“I knew it,” Katherine said. “You're going to call the shrink, get my medication adjusted.”

“Not at all.”

“Then why are you smiling? And tell me the truth, I've gotten very good at spotting your fibs.”

“What are flibs?”

“Fibs, not flibs. It's lying, but not the kind you tell to hurt someone.”

“Eine Notlüge.”

“What's that?”

“A white lie.”

“That's it. And stop beating around the bush trying to come up with an answer.”

“What answer?”

“To what you're smiling about. Spit it out, now.”

Officer Jannsen laughed.

“Well, I was just thinking,
das ist es
.”

“That means
that is it
.”

“Bravo, Kat.”

“Bull, and what do you mean,
das ist es
, Frau Blücher?”

“Who?”

“Dr. Frankenstein's girlfriend.”

“There was no girlfriend in the book.”

“I'm talking movie.”

Officer Jannsen took a moment to remember.

“But there was no girlfriend in the movie.”

“Not the movie with Boris Karloff, I'm talking the Gene Wilder version.
Young Frankenstein
.”

“Are you sure about this, Kat?”

“Do not question me about movies. I'd clean up on
Jeopardy
in that category. We can rent it on Netflix if you want some proof that I'm not completely nuts. And you're still avoiding the answer to the question.”

Officer Jannsen scratched her head.

“I can't remember the question.”

Katherine leaned toward her, caught another blast of Chanel.

“Why? Were you? Smiling at me?”

“Ah. Because you said something that made me think how much alike we are.”

“I did?”

“You did,” Officer Jannsen said.

“What did I say?”

“That there are angels, maybe. We just can't see them. It's a nice thought, really.”

Katherine stared at Officer Jannsen.

“So you're a sucker for fairy tales, too, huh?”

“Isn't everybody?”

Katherine's eyes lost focus for a half a second.

“Kat?”

Katherine shook her head, looked at Officer Jannsen.

“What did you say?”

“You said, ‘You're a sucker for fairy tales'; I said, ‘Isn't everybody?'”

“That's right. Must have had déjà vu. Always weird when that happens.”

“What was it?”

“Someone, a guy. I was talking to him about fairy tales.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. And you know how déjà vu is. Like playing hide-and-seek in the dark with your eyes closed. This guy's there, and not there . . .”

“. . . at the same time.”

Katherine's eyes lit up.

“Nail on the head. And it's always the same. Someone says something, or I think of something, and I can almost see him. If I could only remember his friggin' name, I'd see him. I'm sure of it.”

“Is it happening a lot, the déjà vu?”

“Oh, God, please don't analyze me.”

“I'm just asking.”

“No such thing as ‘just asking' for a cop.”

“I'm off duty for the moment.”

“You are?”

“Forwarded my phone over to Control for a few hours.”

“You shut off your cell phone?”

“I told you. I wanted to look at the stars tonight.”

“They allow you to do that?”

“Look at the stars?”

“No, shut off your phone. What if the big bad wolf shows up in search of fair maidens while they sleep.”

“What?”

“I'm trying to keep with the whole fairy tale motif we've got going,” Katherine said.

“In that case, the big bad wolf would find the house to be surrounded by a tactical unit of the Swiss Guard and end up with its testicles nailed to a tree.”

“Ouch.”

“Genau.”

“What's that?”

“German.”

“For what?”

“Exactement.”

“So why didn't you say so?”

“I was trying to keep up with you in the fairy tale department.”

“Huh?”

“The Brothers Grimm were German.”

“That's right, I remember. Had all the books when I was a girl . . . ‘Rumpelstiltskin.'”

“‘Rumpelstilzchen.'”

“‘The Frog Prince.'”

“‘Der Froschkönig.'”

“Snow White.”

“‘Schneewittchen.'”

“What?”

“‘Snow White,'
‘Schneewittchen.'”

“No way.”

“If it makes you feel any better, ‘Cinderella' is
‘Cinderella.'”

“Oh, that's okay then.”

“Ich danke ihen sehr.”

They were quiet a moment.

“Anne?”

“Yes, Kat?”

“Can I kiss you?”

K
AT,
I
'M NOT SURE THAT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA.”

“Why not? And remember, I'm nuts, so let me down gently.”

“I'm not trying to let you down.”

“That's what they all say.”

“It's just I think I know what kind of kiss you're talking about, Kat.”

“Well, duh.”

“And that's why I don't think it would be a good idea.”

Katherine stared at her. “Have you ever been with a girl?” she said.

“Only girls.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So?”

“I've been celibate for a few years.”

“Oh, God, you're a nun with a gun.”

Officer Jannsen laughed.

“No, I've been celibate since joining Inspector Gobet's task force.”

“Let me guess, he makes all his cops take a vow of chastity before they sign up.”

“No. It's just when I realized what it was I wanted to do with my life, I decided to devote myself to it. Mind, soul,
and
body.”

Katherine let her own eyes do a once-over of Officer Jannsen's body.
What a waste,
she thought.

“But it's not a rule or anything?”

“No, it's not a rule.”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“Well, it's just . . .”

“Say it, Kat.”

“It's just I thought I was picking up some vibes from you.”

“Vibes?”

“Yeah. A flirty look here, a boob flash there.”

“A boob flash?”

“C'mon, you've got a great body, you know it. And you know I like looking at it. And I know you like looking at me.”

“Celibate doesn't mean I'm dead, Kat.”

“So you
have
been looking at me.”

“Yes.”

“And you like what you see.”

“Very much.”

Katherine let out a slow quiet sigh.

“What was that?” Officer Jannsen said.

“The closest thing I've had to an orgasm in years.”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“Good for you.”

“Tell me about it.”

She lay back on her side, looking at Officer Jannsen, who'd adopted the same position to look at her.

“So,” Katherine said, “no sex.”

“No sex.”

“Not even letting your fingers do the walking?”

“My what?”

Katherine made slow flicking moves with the index and middle fingers of her right hand.

“Oh,
die selbstbefriedigung
.”

“
Die
what?”

“
Die selbstbefriedigung.
That's what it's called in German, if we're talking about the same thing.”

“We can't be, not with a word like that. I mean, by the time you say it, you're finished.”

“I'm sure we're talking about the same thing, Kat.”

“So? Do you?”

“Of course, that's me being with me.”

“Well, how about you and me . . .”

“Then that would be me being with you.”

“How do you know what I was thinking?”

“Because I've thought about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So when you're with yourself, do you ever think of me?”

“What?”

“Simple question,” Katherine said.

“You don't expect me to answer it, do you?”

Katherine smiled. “You just did.”

“Maybe we should change the subject, Kat.”

“Okay, best girlfriend ever, but tell me once more why it's not a good idea, then I'll shut up about it.”

Officer Jannsen looked up at the stars.

“I'm like you, Kat, I have emotions, too. But if something were to happen to you or Max because I let myself be distracted by those emotions, I would have failed you and everything I believe in.”

“What do you believe in, besides all those stars you're looking at?”

Officer Jannsen spoke softly.

“L
ove's not Time's fool,
though rosy lips and cheeks

within his bending sickle's compass
come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

but bears it out even to the edge of doom.
”

“Holy cow, I finally know something that you do. That's Shakespeare, from the sonnets. Number 116.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds.
”

“And now it's my turn to be impressed, Madame Taylor.”

“Don't be, it's about the only thing I remember from high school. Only reason I do is I had this mad crush on a cheerleader at the same time I was reading the sonnets for English Lit.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Sure, in the dime-store teen romance sort of way.”

“What happened?”

“The cheerleader had her way with me, and then she broke my heart by switching to the quarterback. He was gorgeous, though, had him myself one night. Anyway, I had a little paperback of the sonnets and would cry myself to sleep reading them. Man, I was such a hopeless romantic. Still am, I guess.”

Officer Jannsen smiled.

“See? I told you we weren't that much different.”

Katherine stared at her, watched her begin to move away like floating in mist.

“Kat?”

“Huh?”

“You're crying.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Katherine took a sharp breath.

“Go ahead, Kat, let it out.”

“It's just . . . it's just I've been feeling things, sexual things, for the first time since . . . and they're nice things. And I felt them with you, and tonight . . . I mean, I didn't come down here to hit on you, it just happened.”

“Don't feel embarrassed. It's good you feel these things again.”

“I don't feel embarrassed, I feel like I've found part of me I've been afraid of seeing. I'm just realizing how so very afraid I've been . . . I can see it.”

“What is it, Kat?”

Katherine felt the tears burn. “Oh, God.” Then she began to shudder and curl into a fetal position. She wept. Officer Jannsen let her alone a minute, then got up to sit next to her, put her hands on her shoulder.

“Kat?”

“Those men hurt me so much.”

“But you're safe now. And I'm here for you, I'll protect you.”

“I know, I know. Maybe that's why I got all . . . you know, hot on you.”

“I know, and it's fine. And believe me, you're getting stronger by the day.”

“You think?”

“I know it. That's what I see in you.”

Katherine pulled the sleeve of her flannel pajamas from under her cloak and wiped her eyes and nose. Officer Jannsen started to get up.

“I'll get some tissues from the house.”

“Don't leave me. Not now, not yet.”

“All right,” Officer Jannsen said, touching Katherine's hair and combing it with her fingers.

“It's very late, isn't it?”

“Yes, Kat, it's very late. You need to sleep.”

“I know. Just one more shooting star, then I'll go to bed. It's been such a nice night. You, me, Max, telling a story. You, me, here, just now.”

She looked up at the sky.
Must be a gazillion stars,
she thought,
and Anne Jannsen probably knows the name of each one.

“Will they ever take you away from me, Anne?”

“Take me where?”

“Will they, you know, transfer you somewhere else?”

“Excuse me, Madame Taylor. I tell you I can't kiss you like a lover and you're already looking for my replacement?”

Katherine laughed.

“No. I just know how it works; they rotate the boys every four months. And you've been great to stay all the time, but I was wondering if you'll ever leave. You will tell me, won't you?”

“I told you once, Kat, there's no place I'd rather be than with you and Max.”

“Yeah, I know. Just checking.”

Katherine fell to sleep, and it was very quiet.

Officer Jannsen waited a few minutes to make sure Katherine was under, then she got up and tucked the blanket around Katherine's body. She leaned down, took a lock of Katherine's hair in her own hand, smelled it, kissed it.

“Yeah, me, too,” Katherine murmured.

Officer Jannsen didn't move.

“Kat, are you awake?”

“No . . . just . . . hmmm.”

Officer Jannsen listened to the rhythm of Katherine's breathing and knew she'd gotten it wrong. The Night Clouds tea had only induced Katherine into the theta wave stage of sleep, and only now was beginning to produce delta waves.

Then a voice:
“Je suis désolé de vous déranger, Chef.”

Officer Jannsen saw one of the Swiss Guards standing at the edge of the garden. She got up, walked toward him.

“What is it?”

“Flash traffic from Inspector Gobet. He wants you online, right now.”

She pulled her mobile from her belt, switched it on. Two priority messages advising of flash traffic, one classified file. She sent the file to her decryption application, waited. The file opened. Officer Jannsen knew what it was, and her eyes dropped to the last series of numbers. She felt her heart pound. She closed the phone, hooked it to her belt. She looked at the Swiss Guard, nodded to Katherine.

“Carry Madame Taylor to her room, put her to bed. Then call in the squad from night maneuvers and light up the perimeter.”

“Roger,
Chef
.”

She marched to Control.

The guard manning the Ops desk saw Officer Jannsen come through the door.

“We're on the bird and counting down,” he said.

“How far back are we?”

“Six minutes,
Chef
. I'm adjusting the signal for lag time.”

She walked through the room, toward a door marked
SUPPLIES
. She glanced at the security monitors from the house. Saw Katherine being carried up the stairs, saw Max asleep in his crib with Monsieur Booty curled up on the nearby stool. On the exterior cameras she saw the perimeter lights switch on and the night squad coming in from the woods. She stopped at the supply room door. She grabbed the door handle, tried to turn it. It wouldn't give. She remembered it wasn't that kind of door.

“Öffnen sie die verdammte tür,”
she said.

The guard quickly entered a four-digit code on his computer keyboard, and the door popped open. Officer Jannsen stood still a moment, turned back.

“When you get an REM sleep registration from Madame Taylor, seal the door to the boy. Release enough masking potion to make her unsure about the last ninety minutes.”

“Chef?”

“I want her to imagine the last ninety minutes as a dream, that she went to bed and didn't come out into the garden. And notify the pharmacy in Grover's Mill that her memory potions need to be adjusted again.”

The guard tapped a couple keys, read something on his screen.

“Excuse me,
Chef
, there isn't any note of that on her medication log.”

She shot a vicious look across the room.

“Ich will es getan!”

“
Natürlich, Chef.
Last ninety minutes to be redirected in Swan Lake's memory.”

Officer Jannsen went inside the room, locked the door behind her. Barely a meter by two meters, just enough to fit a small desk and chair. There was a small blue light on the wall. A Crypto Field Terminal attached to a headset with a microphone. It was called the Quiet Room. So quiet she could hear the sound of her own heart pounding. She sat down, put on the headset, adjusted the microphone. She watched the digital clock on the screen count down to real time, to the exact millisecond . . .
Love's not Time's fool,
she thought at the very moment the clock flipped to 00:00:00:00. Then a low-frequency hum vibrated through the room, and Inspector Gobet appeared onscreen.

“Good evening, Officer Jannsen.”

“Inspector.”

“I trust you've seen the news footage of the celestial event.”

“Yes, sir. I was in the back garden watching the stars, trying to imagine it. How is spin control?”

“Proceeding as planned; though given the state of the world's media, we'll be awash in false prophets by the end of the day, I'm sure. We've arranged for a British astrophysicist to enter the conversation this evening to calm the mood, as it were. And a statement from EPFL, which by curious timing was the only lab in Europe managing to gather any scientific data on the event, will lend gravitas to the spin. I should like to impress upon you that, given the events in Portland, Madame Taylor is not to be made aware of the comet in any way.”

“I've already issued an order to all operatives through closed-circuit comms.”

“Have you had time to review the data I have referred to HQ regarding the boy's light scan?”

“I just received it, sir.”