The Sudden Star (31 page)

"She wanted to make it look like you died naturally, so she could take over your business without any trouble. That's why she needed Simon. With your businesses, and with her father's, she could control most of the city. That's all she wants. She didn't want to marry you at all until she was sure she could get rid of you, that's why she waited."

She glanced at Slansky, who was no longer smiling. He peered back at her with thoughtful gray eyes, and she realized he was at least willing to consider her remarks. She fumbled at her knife belt, removing the piece of paper Simon had given her. She held it out to Titus. "Simon managed to get this at a hospital, it gives him permission to buy succin—succinla—a drug that keeps you from breathing. Surgeons use it. He went down to Mount Sinai Hospital and got it there and gave it to Isabeau."

Titus took the paper with two fingers. "This doesn't prove anything," he said. His voice was very low. "Simon could have bought the stuff for other reasons." But he looked over at Isabeau Rasselle as he spoke. She stared back at him blandly, not moving.

"She has it," Aisha replied. "Simon saw her put it in a jewelry box when he gave it to her, a blue velvet box, he said. It might be in her purse."

Titus was still watching his wife. Isabeau shrugged. "I don't know why you're listening to this," she said to Titus. "It's completely false." She still smiled.

"Would I come here," Aisha said, "and risk everything, to tell you something that isn't true? I'm trying to help you."

"The doctor's put her up to this," Isabeau said. She leaned over and touched her husband's hand lightly. "The man wanted to seduce me, but of course I wouldn't go along with him, so now he's trying to get even. He made up this story and probably convinced this girl it's true."

"She has it," Aisha cried desperately. "Why don't you look?"

Isabeau got up quickly, strode to the bar, and picked up a black leather purse. Returning, she opened it, spilling the contents on the floor next to Titus's feet. "There's nothing there," she said. She spun around and looked coldly at Aisha. "Your friend was lying to you."

Titus had sunk lower in his chair. He stared down at the cosmetics and handkerchiefs scattered at his feet. Aisha could not read his expression. Isabeau continued to stand, a half-smile on her face. There was nothing more the blond woman could say, Aisha realized; she could not even deny the one lie Simon had told her to tell.

"There's another thing you could ask her about," Aisha said, forcing herself to continue. "Ask her about her bodyguard. I knew her bodyguard in New York, but there her name was Kathleen Ortega." She saw Slansky raise an eyebrow. "A very powerful man in New York wants her dead, mainly because she isn't very loyal. Isabeau probably knows all about it. She probably hired her because she could help take over your organization. Maybe she even told her about what she wanted to do to you."

Titus was silent for a long time. His mouth twisted, as if he had bitten something sour. His eyes met Aisha's. She thought: I'm lost; he doesn't believe me. Then Isabeau laughed hoarsely, shaking her head. Her silver hair swayed. She said, "The girl's lying. That doctor just wants to get even with me."

"I knew Simon a long time," Titus said. His voice was almost a croak. "Sometimes he didn't have such good judgment about women. Sometimes he didn't stick by a friend if there wasn't something in it for him. But what you're telling me doesn't sound like him, Isabeau. He didn't go out of his way to get even if he thought it would get him in worse trouble. That isn't his way. I don't know if he'd go to all that trouble over missing a fuck." He motioned to Slansky. "Jake, go into my bedroom there. My wife keeps her things in the dresser in the corner. I want you to look inside every goddamn jewelry box there, and if anything's locked, shoot the lock off."

Slansky got up and walked toward the bedroom. Isabeau took a few steps after him. Titus said, "I think you better wait here." Isabeau shrugged and wandered over to the open window. She turned and faced them. She was still calm; Aisha had to give her credit. Fear gripped her suddenly; maybe there was nothing in the bedroom, maybe Isabeau had hidden the drug elsewhere. The air was close and humid; she could hardly breathe.

Jacob Slansky was at the door. Aisha caught her breath sharply. He approached them and held out a vial and a syringe. "I found these," he said, "in a blue velvet box."

Titus's head had sunk between his shoulders. "She never wanted me near her things," he muttered. His voice was cracking. "She said she wanted respect for her privacy, and I believed it. I thought it was their way, those kind of people."

Isabeau laughed again. "That's nothing," she said. Her voice wasn't tiny any more, it was low and firm. Aisha watched her, marveling, expecting the blond woman to plead with Titus. "That's nothing," Isabeau repeated. "It's just a harmless little something, just for fun. I didn't want to tell you about it, I know you disapprove of those things." She tilted her head, gazing at her husband. She was beautiful, almost too beautiful. She stood there, with her silver hair, in her long violet gown, a pale unearthly creature, and for a moment Aisha was sure Titus would forgive her, because she was too beautiful to hate.

"Of course," Titus whispered. He got up slowly; his face sagged. He took the vial and syringe from Slansky and turned to his wife. "Why don't you relax now? You're with friends." Isabeau did not answer. "You heard me, dear, I want you to come over here and take this harmless drug. I don't like these things myself, so the rest of us can just have a drink instead."

Isabeau's smile was frozen. The room was very quiet, so quiet that Aisha could hear the sound of people talking in the hall outside. The bodyguard behind Titus's chair moved, taking a step toward Isabeau. The blond woman lifted a slender arm as she leaned against the windowsill; her hand was steady. She perched on the sill, holding her hand out to her husband. Titus, still holding the vial and syringe, looked away.

Isabeau spun around quickly, lifting her legs over the sill, and disappeared out the window.

The bodyguard dove toward her, too late. Titus staggered backward, almost falling in his chair. Aisha screamed, and jumped up. She covered her ears with her hands, still screaming. Slansky grabbed her arms and shook her. She pulled away from him and was silent. Her knees shook. She heard the screams and cries of people outside, far below the window. She turned toward Titus. His mouth hung open, his complexion had a yellowish tinge. The bodyguard stood by the window, peering down. He turned back to the others. He said, "She's dead, sir. I'm sorry."

Titus took a step toward Aisha, raising his arm. The blow sent her reeling back. She threw up her hands. His fist hit her chest and she gasped for air. Another blow struck her on the left side. The beige carpet on the floor rushed toward her and she was down, her legs curled, her arms wrapped around her head. She waited, then peered up from under an arm.

Slansky stood with his arms around Titus, holding him still. Aisha sat up and tried to crawl away. Slansky released Titus and reached for her, pulling her up. She stood unsteadily on wobbly legs.

Titus said, "Where's Simon? He's hiding, isn't he, waiting for you."

She shook her head. Her ribs ached. "You lied to me," Titus went on. "Oh, I know you did. Simon must have been her lover, that's why she trusted him, that's why she thought she was safe, otherwise she would have gotten rid of him, I'm right, I know I'm right." He stumbled back to his chair and sat down, rumpled and defeated.

Slansky signaled to the bodyguard. The man hurried to his side, "Go downstairs," he commanded. "Isabeau's bodyguard's somewhere in the lobby or the supper club. Make sure she's shot. And tell some of the men to get the body, and if anyone questions you, don't answer." The man nodded and left.

Aisha looked down at her hands. The pattern of the chair arms she had gripped so fiercely was etched on her palms. She was numb. Her chest and abdomen were hollow and empty; her skin was like glass, fragile, ready to break. Another person was dead because of her. Powerful people struggled, won and lost, lived and died while most others went on, seeing very little change for them. It made no difference to them whether Titus or Isabeau survived.

"Take a message to your friend," Titus croaked. "You hear me? You tell him if he's in that apartment of his tomorrow, I'll kill him. You tell him if any of my people see him after that, he's dead. You tell him that."

Slansky took her arm and pushed her toward the door.

Aisha opened a counter door and crawled under her sink. She pried open a panel and fumbled under the pipes, finally locating her pouch of jewelry. She grabbed it and crawled back out, closing the door.

She stood up and tied the pouch around her waist, tucking it into her jeans. She pulled a loose red tunic over her head, then put on her knifebelt. She left the apartment without looking back.

Simon waited in the hall. They hurried down the stairs and outside. The dawn sunlight cast an eerie red glow, making the fountain in the courtyard pink. They walked toward the street.

A small, muscular woman was suddenly in front of them. "Aisha Baraka?" she said, brushing back her short, uneven brown hair.

"Yes."

"My name's Maudine. Werner Takaishi sent me here." She spoke quickly, with a northern accent Aisha couldn't place. "Who's he?" The woman gestured toward Simon.

"He's my—" Aisha paused. "He's my friend," she said at last in a low voice.

"Werner didn't say anything about a friend."

"He's in trouble," Aisha said. "He can't stay here and he doesn't have anywhere to go."

"Come on, then. Werner can decide what to do with him." They followed her down the street. "He's waiting a couple of blocks down."

The streets seemed emptier than usual, even for early morning. The beggars had disappeared, the venders and their carts were absent. In the distance, Aisha could hear a sharp chattering. She recognized the sound: gunfire. A block down, a group of men ran across the street, keeping close to the ground. They carried rifles. Maudine walked more rapidly, her hand on the revolver at her waist. "It's starting already," she muttered. Aisha opened her mouth to ask what.

A deafening boom clapped her. She fell to the ground and heard the shattering of glass. Her ears rang. She pressed against the sidewalk, clutching the curb.

Maudine was pulling at her tunic. "Get up," she said. Aisha's ears hummed. Gray smoke billowed in the east, over toward the Americana. Maudine began to run. Aisha followed, Simon close behind her. They ran past barred storefronts, past a few boys and girls trying to jimmy a lock on one set of bars.

Maudine stopped suddenly and Aisha almost collided with her. "In here," the muscular woman said, unlocking the metal grating in front of a small store. They followed her inside.

The store was dark. Shelves filled with books lined the walls, reaching to the ceiling. Maudine closed the door behind them.

Takaishi sat behind the check-out counter. A slender man in khaki was with him. "Barron!" Maudine cried, rushing toward them and almost knocking over a display rack. She leaned over the counter, rubbing her hand over the man's short, bristly, blond hair. "God, I'm glad you made it here."

The man smiled, turning his boyish face up to her. "I heard you had problems last night."

Maudine sat on the counter, putting her feet on the man's lap. "Oh yeah, I had her all lined up, I saw that scar on her face, and I knew it was her. Then these two other guys came running around the side of the hotel, screaming about Isabeau Rasselle taking a dive out the window. She was quick, damn it, she took off fast and I lost her."

Aisha went to the counter and looked over it at Takaishi. "As you might have guessed," he said, "these are my associates." He gestured sharply at Simon. "What's he doing here?"

"He's in trouble," she answered. "I couldn't just—he would have been killed. I had to help him. I don't know anyone else to—anyone else to—" She swallowed.

"What kind of trouble?"

She tried to think of how to put it. "Simon found out something," she said finally. "Isabeau Rasselle was trying to kill Titus Echeverria, I went to Titus with the news, and—" She paused when she saw Takaishi knit his brows. Maudine had turned and was staring at her, eyes wide. "After Isabeau went out the window, Titus just fell apart, it was as if he blamed Simon for it. I guess he must have loved her."

"So you're the ones," Maudine said.

"What do you mean?" Aisha asked, puzzled.

"Don't you know what you've done?" Takaishi muttered. Aisha shook her head. "You should have left it alone. As far as Sean Rasselle is concerned, Echeverria pushed his only child out that window." He sighed. "You've started a war."

Barron returned from the back room with some cheese, a few bean sprouts, and two big bottles of warm beer. He sat on the counter and passed the provisions around. Takaishi, as it turned out, owned the bookstore; it had been one of many innocuous fronts for his activities.

Maudine offered Aisha some bean sprouts. Aisha shook her head. "Better eat them," the woman said. "We might have trouble getting some food later on."

Aisha took the sprouts. The sounds of gunfire were farther away now, more intermittent. She drank some beer, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "What are we going to do now?" she asked Takaishi.