Cousins made a wry face. “I thought Marquez’s paranoia made this place ideal.”
I let that pass without comment. Civilians rarely know the best places to hide or whom to trust with their lives. “What about Banning? What do you know about him? He brings you all together, he provides the catalyst that unites all these people who could be dangerous to Silk. Have you ever considered the possibility that he’s some sort of henchman or decoy?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Cousins said. “It’s not impossible. But I don’t think it’s him.” His face loosened a little, sad, then thoughtful. “My wife, maybe.”
“You’re afraid of your wife?”
“We’re getting divorced. I got suspicious. Lots of little things.”
“Shit.” Nastier and nastier. I rubbed the back of my neck and stretched, looking around the setup in the basement. “How long have you been working on your vaccines?” I asked.
“Six months.”
“And how long has Silk been out there?” I had already done the math, I was making a point.
“Seventy years, maybe.”
I held up my hands as if surrendering. “These guys have been scouring channels and making contacts, creating their little operatives, breaking trails of subversion, for seventy years. That’s way outside my league. No, thanks. Pardon me, boys, but that’s the fucking Chattanooga Choo-Choo.”
Cousins stared at me sadly. “I know we have a chance,” he persisted. “We can’t just let it all go!”
Tammy opened the basement door and poked her head in. “Interrupting?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I said, dropping my hands and walking off. I did not want that woman in the room, not when I had made my decision, when my instincts told me to get the hell out and fast. Something melted in me when she was near. Not even Janie had evoked such a reaction, and that made me angry.
“I put Joe to bed. He sleeps like a baby.” She sighed and closed the door behind her. She had put on a block-print caftan, warmer and almost able to conceal her shape. “He is sensitive about Jews, especially with Mr. Banning. He does not understand.”
“Tammy didn’t finish her story,” Cousins said. “Maybe now’s the time?”
“I can guess,” I said.
Tammy stood beside Cousins. They both looked at me expectantly.
“Tammy saw Golokhov,” I said. “That’s what this is all about. He’s Goncourt, isn’t he?”
Tammy rewarded me with a sad, lovely smile.
“We’re pretty sure,” Cousins said.
“He’d have to be, what, a hundred years old by now?”
“Closer to a hundred and five.”
“And you want me to help you do something in the Bahamas.”
Cousins looked me straight in the eye. “Eventually. If you’re up to it.”
“I tell why I leave Philippe?” Tammy inquired.
Cousins nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, giving up. It had been a very long day. Surely there was a point to it all.
“I was ill in Los Angeles just after Philippe and I arrived. Something inside, turistas.”
“Theme of the day,” I said dryly.
“There was a banquet. Fancy hotel, beautiful people, from Canada, Venezuela, Brazil, China, Puerto Rico, Las Vegas, Bahamas, Disneyland. I became sick in our big room. Philippe was angry, he wanted to show me off, but what can he do?” Her voice was so exotic, a touch sad, with unpredictable upbeats and downbeats. Just achingly beautiful. “I don’t know it, but I am coming out of their control.”
“Hardy constitution, tough on out-of-town bacteria like Goncourt’s,” Cousins said. “From living in the slums. That’s my guess.”
Tammy rubbed her eyes and peered dramatically, demonstrating new insight. “I suddenly see the room, the city, all different. It is like suddenly losing faith in God, you know? But it is a big city, I am afraid, I know nobody and nothing. I go with Philippe to another hotel, the Beverly Hilton. He introduces me to a woman. The woman is blond, beautiful, tall. She is with two shorter men I do not know, but they also have the look of circus performers. I think of them as the Gray Men. Philippe says they represent Goncourt in California and the West Coast.”
“Runners,” Cousins said.
“He tells me he is going to leave me with the Gray Men, and they will train me.” Her face wrinkled in revulsion. “Leave me! In a strange town, away from my family!”
“The bastard,” I said.
“The two men ask Philippe how obedient I am. The blond woman acts as if I am a dog or a cat. Obedience is essential, Philippe tells me. We are a cell in LA, and we do important work for Dr. Goncourt. It is a fabulous life, he says, you go everywhere, sneak around in the dark. The Gray Men say I will become like them, masters of being inconspicuous.”
I wondered how she could ever be inconspicuous.
“They will teach me all the necessary skills, even how to kill without touching.”
I heard a low, choppy rumble outside. Not like thunder. No windows in the basement. My neck hairs twitched.
“I escape the next morning,” Tammy said. “I hang out on the streets, at YWCA, until I am picked up by Beverly Hills police. I tell them my story. I tell them it is about drugs, and maybe it is. Then, two, three people help me, I am lucky. One of them is a psychiatrist, she knows Joe. Joe’s house is isolated. Secure. Nobody bad will find me.”
