The Girl In The Glass Part 20

SPEAKING OF MUTATION.

As I'd hoped, due to the late hour, the halls were deserted. Around the next corner, I found the office Stintson's instructions pointed to. The door was unlocked, and when I opened it, though the lights were already on, the place was empty. I went in and locked the door behind me. Three of the room's walls were lined with wooden filing cabinets and the last held a tall bookcase. There was a chair at a desk with a lamp on it, and opposite that a small couch with one window behind it.

I set to tracing the last names on the cabinets. Stintson's notes had put me in the general area of Agarias's archive, and the specific drawers holding his files were not hard to find. The first drawer I tried was locked though. Pulling out Sch.e.l.l's skeleton key, I went to work. A few seconds later, there came a faint click from within the baffle. The long drawer slid out with one pull on the handle, and I saw it was choked with folders, each crammed with paper.

I didn't know where to start. There were three more drawers similarly stuffed. It's going to take forever, I thought and felt a sense of panic begin to spark to life in my chest.

I took a deep breath and, realizing there was nothing else to do, reached in and pulled out a huge stack of files, about a quarter of what was in the top drawer. Carrying them to the desk, I laid them carefully to one side. I took off my jacket and draped it over the back of the chair, rolled up my sleeves, grabbed the top file, and sat down.

At first, nothing made any sense. There was a lot of scientific jargon concerning blood types, equations, formulas, and testimony concerning individuals who'd been studied. The best I could do was scan as much as I could and keep a lookout for something that rang a bell or that made things clearer. Somewhere well into the second half hour, I started skipping files, simply glancing down whole sheets without actually reading, jumping around from file to file until the stack beside me on the desk became two stacks and then three and then just a mess of folders. Just when I thought that perhaps my trip to the ERO, calling Hal in from Brooklyn, the whole elaborate con was going to go to waste, I finally picked up on the thread of something that seemed familiar. I recalled Stintson mentioning Agarias's experiment with twins, and from the look of the text I was then scanning, I had blundered my way into the middle of that research.

I did some backtracking, found the origin of the research in question, and then moved forward. Even though my eyes were weary by then, and my back hurt from leaning over the desk, I was infused with a new energy and clarity of vision. And then I caught sight of the name Shaw Shaw. I read on at a rapid rate as it became clear to me that I had before me certain pieces of the puzzle.

It was precisely when I uncovered an interesting fact concerning Morgan that I heard the sound of footsteps outside the door. A key slid into the lock from outside. There was no time for me to even get out of my chair. The door opened a sliver, tentatively at first, and then swung all the way in. Standing in the entrance, smiling, was Agarias. I stood up, thinking there was going to be trouble. He tilted his head downward to look at me over the rims of his round gla.s.ses, and said, "If it isn't the spiritual savant of the subcontinent. Ondoo, is it?"

"What have you done with Sch.e.l.l?" I asked.

"He's in my keeping. Safe, for now."

Seeing he was alone, I started to move around the desk. All I wanted to do was punch him.

"Please sit down," he said.

When I kept advancing, he added, "If you'd like to see Mr. Sch.e.l.l again, I'd sit down." I stopped in my tracks, unclenched my fist, and backed off.

"Sit down and I'll tell you anything you'd like to know, really. I've nothing to hide. Let me warn you, though, if you can't control yourself, I've got a gun, and I wouldn't mind shooting you." He patted the side pocket of his jacket as he took a seat on the couch.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked.

"After you and Sch.e.l.l went to see Stintson, I figured he would lead you here."

"Stintson?" I said in a weak attempt to cover the truth.

"Yes, poor Stintson. It seems he'll be all over the front page tomorrow. A robbery, I'm afraid." I closed my eyes momentarily at the knowledge that we had been responsible for the man's death.

"Okay," I finally said. "All I want is Sch.e.l.l. Tell me what I need to do to get him back, and we'll forget all about you."

"Simple," said Agarias, "I want Morgan Shaw. An even exchange."

"Why?"

"She's critical to my work," he said.

"She's legally your daughter, isn't she?" I said.

Agaias nodded. "Adopted. She and her brother. The twins of twins born of twins."

"What is is it about twins?" it about twins?"

"Good question," he said, shaking his finger at me. "We know that incest begets birth anomalies, correct?"

I nodded.

"This is why it's illegal to marry, say, your sister, or even your first cousin. But I discovered this family out in the woods, where the laws of civilization were largely ignored. I waited until the children came of age and then, shall we say, persuaded persuaded them to couple. Imagine now, if incest between first cousins, brothers and sisters, causes mutations, just think about what the union of twins might produce. You see? When I first stumbled upon these degenerates, I noticed something in the early bloodwork, some anomaly. Over the two successive generations it has become more p.r.o.nounced." them to couple. Imagine now, if incest between first cousins, brothers and sisters, causes mutations, just think about what the union of twins might produce. You see? When I first stumbled upon these degenerates, I noticed something in the early bloodwork, some anomaly. Over the two successive generations it has become more p.r.o.nounced."

"Speaking of mutations," I said, "what exactly is that creature you sent to murder Parks and visit us at Sch.e.l.l's?"

"That's my boy, Merlin," said Agarias, smiling. "He's quite a physical specimen, isn't he?"

"He's deformed," I said.

"Now, now," he said. "Merlin is a very special individual. Granted, he's not the most handsome fellow. But take, for instance, his skin. He's not albino. Albino is the lack of pigmentation. His pigment is white. The other thing about him, and this is most important, he's got a blood type like none other."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean his blood type is unique. If you were to test it, it would register nothing, not A, A negative, B, B negative, AB, or O. Only he and one other person possess it."

"His sister," I said. "Morgan."

"You're shrewd for a wetback," he said.

"Not shrewd enough," I said. "Why exactly do you want her?"

"Morgan, Merlin, I'm sure you didn't catch the Arthurian reference," he said. I shook my head, even though I had.

"I adopted them both but decided early on that I would work only with the male child. I've trained him from birth, physically of course, like a circus animal. Mentally he's of subpar intelligence. But it was his blood that interested me most.

"We need manpower in this country to save us from economic decline, but unfortunately, we're lacking in the right type of men. Those with Anglo blood, our rightful forefathers, will build a great civilization here. We need to deport and eradicate all those of weaker bloodlines. But those of mixed bloodlines, it may be possible to salvage some of them in order to create workers. My theory is that Merlin's special blood might negate, might cleanse, the tainted blood of half breeds, like the Barnes girl. In other words, wash the Jew out of her."

"And so she was part of an experiment. You transfused her, and she died. How many others have you killed with these experiments?"

"Believe me," he said, moving to the edge of his seat, "we're making progress. I think the answer lies within Morgan. I should not have ignored her and concentrated on her brother. I now believe she's got the blood ingredient necessary to accomplish my goal."

"How can anyone who treats children the way you do create a great civilization?" I said.

"Oh, do I sense you disapprove?" he said, feigning concern. "My work is far more important than individual lives."

"What if I go to the police?"

"Think through it, my boy. You're an illegal. They're more likely to deport you than to listen to you. And I have powerful benefactors."

"There's just one problem, Mr. Agarias."

"Yes?"

"I don't know where Morgan is. She took off the other day after Sch.e.l.l and I ran into your friends out by her cabin. She didn't want us to get hurt."

"Very sad," he said. "Poor Mr. Sch.e.l.l. It seems he's conned his last old lady."

"What if we can find her?" I asked.

"I can give you three days. After that, I'll rerun the experiment and transfuse Sch.e.l.l. He is half Jewish you know, on his mother's side."

"No," I said, "he never mentioned it."

A PATRIOT.

Three days," he repeated. "I'll contact you at the end of that time. If you have her, we'll set up a meeting. If you don't, Sch.e.l.l gets the needle, and my boy Merlin will be out to pay you another visit. Next time I'll instruct him to bring me the head of that big oaf of Sch.e.l.l's."

"Agarias," I said as he rose to leave. "You know, your name doesn't exactly sound Anglo to me. What are you?"

"I'm a patriot," said Agarias and smiled.

"Call me, I'll find her," I said to him as he made for the door. He stopped before leaving and said, "Three days, my friend. No more." I was afraid Agarias would alert the guard that I was in the building, so the second the door closed, without bothering to return the files to their appropriate drawers, I strode across the office and climbed up on the couch. Reaching over the back of it, I opened the window and removed the screen. When I landed on the ground on the side of the building, it was already night. I didn't hesitate to see if anyone was about but just took off running toward the street. A few seconds later, Antony pulled up to the curb and I got in.

Hal was in the backseat, fully clothed now, and first thing, I asked him if he'd done all right.

"The guy chased me back as far as the trees," he said, "but once I made it into the woods, he stopped running and just yelled 'Filthy mutt' at me a few more times. He didn't want to screw with the dog in the dark woods, though. I'd have shoved that billy club up his a.s.s."

"Filthy mutt," Antony said, laughing. "I wonder if the guy really thought you were a dog."

"I had an interesting visit while I was inside," I told them. When I told them I'd seen Agarias, Antony and Hal were both for going back and getting him. I told them to calm down and then filled them in on everything I'd learned.

"We have to get this schmuck," said Hal.

"If only we knew where they were keeping Sch.e.l.l," I said. "We could go and get him. My guess it's that special lab of his Stintson told us about. I was hoping I'd find an address for it in there, but it makes sense that he's not advertising its location, what with the kind of work he's doing, murdering children and raising lumpen-headed mutations like circus animals."

"You talking about Mr. Pasty?" asked Antony.

"That thing is legally his kid," I said. "Merlin is its name."

"What's he been feeding him?" said Antony.

"He's Morgan's brother," I said.

"What?" said the big man, momentarily taking his foot off the peddle. When he recovered, he said, "Makes sense, though, they're both white as milk. But Jeez, she definitely got the looks in that family."

"Do you know where this woman is who he wants to trade Tommy for?" asked Hal.

"Yeah, we've got her," I said. "But I don't think I can just turn her over to him."

"Well you're going to have to," said Hal. "Otherwise Sch.e.l.l takes the dirt nap."

"I know Sch.e.l.l would tell me not to do it," I said.

"Not exactly," said Antony. "Sch.e.l.l would scheme some con."

"Yeah," I said. "But we need an edge, which we don't have right now."

"Count me in," said Hal.

"Go back to Brooklyn," I said. "Get Sal to help you round up the others, anybody who'll help. Stand by. I might call at any time. I'm going to need you all to move at a moment's notice."

"You got it," he said.

"Don't go to the station," I told Antony. "We'll get some gas and take Hal all the way in and drop him at the Captain's place, not near his apartment. I'm afraid Agarias is having us followed. He knew we'd been to Stintson's place, because he told me he had the poor guy sandbagged. If they're on us, we can lose them in the city. We'll pay the toll; take the Motor Parkway."

"Okay," said Antony. "If we take them back to Babylon on our tails, we'll lose Morgan and and Sch.e.l.l." In Brooklyn we followed Hal into Captain Pierce's place and hung around a while to make sure no one was on our trail. The old Negro knife thrower had served as a scout at fifteen for the Union Army in the Civil War. That night he served Antony and Hal a mason jar each of the home brew beer that he'd concocted in a barrel in his kitchen. I explained to him what was going on with Sch.e.l.l, and he volunteered his services if need be. The Captain suffered from the shakes, and his eyes were starting to go cloudy, but he still had that hair-splitting aim, as he insisted on demonstrating by skewering, from across the living room, an apple he made Antony balance on his head. Sch.e.l.l." In Brooklyn we followed Hal into Captain Pierce's place and hung around a while to make sure no one was on our trail. The old Negro knife thrower had served as a scout at fifteen for the Union Army in the Civil War. That night he served Antony and Hal a mason jar each of the home brew beer that he'd concocted in a barrel in his kitchen. I explained to him what was going on with Sch.e.l.l, and he volunteered his services if need be. The Captain suffered from the shakes, and his eyes were starting to go cloudy, but he still had that hair-splitting aim, as he insisted on demonstrating by skewering, from across the living room, an apple he made Antony balance on his head.

We didn't get back to the fis.h.i.+ng cottage until well after midnight. By then my fists were just about able to unclench. Antony's driving had been inspired, to say the least. The way he'd piloted the Cord, two-wheeling around corners, weaving in and out of traffic, cutting across open fields, I'm surprised my pants were still dry. If Agarias's goons had followed us after all that, they were welcome to us. I was exhausted, brain-weary from trying to think of an out for Sch.e.l.l and at the same time not giving up Morgan. In the morning, I knew I'd have to tell her everything, and that in itself frayed me. Isabel met me at the door, holding the pistol.

"Don't shoot," I said and put my arms around her. She kissed me and told me it had been a quiet day. She'd gone out to the little market in town to get the things she needed to make dinner. I could smell the rich aroma all over the cottage, the scent of thick potato soup with bacon and onion that took me back to my mother's kitchen in an instant.

"No chiles," she said and shook her head. She served us each-Antony, herself, and I-a bowlful and a wedge of bread. Morgan was asleep in the back room.

While we ate, Antony and I filled her in on what had happened at the ERO. She'd never met Hal, so we had to describe him for her, and then Antony was good for a few stories from the old carny days when they'd worked the same shows. Finally the big man got up from the table.

"That meal's brought me to the conclusion that my cooking stinks," he said. He looked around the tiny cottage and then lifted the gun off the table and told us we could cram onto the couch, he was going to sleep in the car. "If I see anything going on," he said, leaving, "I'll hit the horn. We should've brought a f.u.c.king bottle from the house."

Isabel and I quietly cleaned up the dinner table, and when we were done, I sat on the couch and lay my head back. She came over and stretched out, resting her head on a pillow on my thigh. It was the exact position I'd seen Sch.e.l.l and Morgan in the last time I'd spoken to him.

"Morgan told me about her life in the city," Isabel whispered. "Very sad. She ran away from home and ended working for some man. You know, como puta. One day she returned to the place where he kept all his women and found him dead on the floor with a bullet in the back of his head."

"Sounds familiar," I said.

"I think she very much likes Mr. Sch.e.l.l," said Isabel.

"Yeah," I said, "they need each other. But what am I going to do? As it stands now, it's either one or the other."

"Pensaras en algo; duermete," she said.

The imagery of the day ran through my thoughts in a crazy patchwork-Hal running around stark naked, Agarias's smirk, Antony's death-wish driving. It all ended with that dead b.u.t.terfly on the kitchen table back at home. Suddenly, the wings of the mosaic twitched, and it began to flutter. I continued to stare as it lifted into the air, into the sky where the ceiling had been, and then I knew I was dreaming.

PERFECT.

It was late morning, and I sat in the kitchen back at Sch.e.l.l's house. Antony came in from the newsstand but didn't, as usual, throw the paper on the table. He kept it rolled up under his arm as he poured a cup of coffee and then left it facedown on the counter before pulling out a chair and joining me.

"Stintson?" I asked.