Dearly, Beloved Part 29

24.

PAMELA.

Two days after receiving Lopez's background info, I decided that I had to speak to my father. He said he'd be back from his latest sojourn to the police station around eleven, and so I left Nora in her room with our textbooks and went to greet him, Isambard joining me. The folded-up pages were in my pocket, and I'd finally worked up the courage to hand them over, to talk to him about the idea of going.

I didn't get the opportunity, though. When Dad arrived, he barely responded to our presence. When I showed him the papers, he smiled, but his smile was all wrong. He waved us off, telling us to go rest, and climbed the stairs to Aunt Gene's room to find my mother.

Instinctively, Issy and I followed. When he shut the door in our faces we remained standing in front of it, alone in the portrait-lined hallway.

Behind the door, our parents started to talk. Then they fought. As we listened, long minutes dragging by, I wrapped my arms around an increasingly miserable Isambard. When Mom started crying and I heard my father shout, "I will not let a strange man swoop in and play white knight for my family! I don't want any man's charity!" I found the strength to take my brother by the shoulders and move him in the direction of Nora's room. Upon entering, I found her donning her light spring coat and hat.

I shut the door. She turned to look, at once guilty. "Pamma ..."

"Whatever we've caught you doing, listen to us first," I said.

She paused, troubled for a new reason. "Are you all right?"

"No." It amazed me how much disgust and anger and pain could be channeled into one almost emotionless word. Everything currently in my heart and my head and my life could be easily summed up with "No."

"What's going on?" In the silence that followed her question, I helped Isambard sit on the floor. Nora didn't quiz us further, moving to join my brother on the pink rug.

Isambard was all eyes. "Mr. Delgado is still missing. He went on a job and didn't come home. And the police aren't doing anything, just like they're not doing anything for us-is it because we're not rich, do you think? Because the Delgados are poor? Is that it?"

"Not doing anything?" Nora asked.

"Dad said the police don't know anything more. They said with all the stuff going on in the city, they're swamped. That everything's going slowly."

Nora sighed. "Great."

"That's not all of it." It almost hurt to speak, but I knew it was up to me to do so. Issy shouldn't have to repeat what we'd just heard. Before I could begin my dark recitation, however, Issy opened his mouth again, looking at the floor all the while.

"Mom decided to call our aunt and uncle and ask if we could come and stay with them out in the country, while Dad waits for the insurance stuff to go through," he began. His left eye was starting to blacken, and I wondered what was going on inside him. "They said no."

"Why?" Nora asked.

I took over, my voice hoa.r.s.e. "Because they have a baby, and they told Mom that they didn't want Issy to eat him." Isambard shut his eyes. "And they said they're good Christian people, so they couldn't possibly allow a demon-possessed walking corpse anywhere near their house. They said that the scientists have it wrong, and that Isambard is actually a demon, and that we're all going to h.e.l.l for harboring the Devil's child. Oh, and they'll pray for us. I find that enormously comforting, don't you? That completely makes up for the fact that they think my brother is a sign of the End Times."

"Oh my G.o.d," Nora said. "Why the h.e.l.l would anyone say something like that?"

"Because of me," Isambard said. Then the figurative floodgates opened. "Just like Mom's going insane, because of me! Just like Pamela almost got killed during the Siege, because of me! Just like I've ruined everything!"

Leaning forward, I caught his hands and forced him to look at me. "It isn't your fault," I told him again. "Never, ever think it's your fault."

"But it is!" He coughed noisily. "And I'm trying so hard to be good, so hard. And Jenny needs me, she keeps asking for her father, but I don't know where he is, and I'm so scared for him ..."

Nora reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry, Issy."

I tried to figure out how to put things. I felt like I had the night I'd descended into the parlor and marched my family out onto the street. I was above fear, above grief, above regret. "I'm glad you have your coat on," I told Nora. "Because we need to go talk to Lopez. Now."

"That's ... exactly what I was going to do. Well, about Lopez."

For a beat I didn't know what to think. "What?" My mental mode abruptly s.h.i.+fted. I should actually lecture her about not leaving the house. Scold her.

Hug her.

"Yes," she said. "In the car on Monday, it was clear you wanted to go. That's why I asked Ren to look into him. I've been trying to ask around, too. I don't want to see you go, but I want to see you happy." She frowned. "Especially if crazy people are going after you because of me."

I remained lost for two more seconds-then it all clicked. I let go of my brother so I could look at her straight on. "Thank you." It was two words too much; my throat grew thick, and I had to swallow before I could go on. "And then, someone needs to convince my parents that we need to go someplace else, before it all falls apart again. And if I say it, I don't think anyone will listen." And just like that it was out. The failure was admitted. I thought it would bring me some kind of release, but it didn't.

"Why don't you think they'll listen? You did this before," Nora said. "You got them to safety."

"It's Dad. And Mom won't go without him." I shook my head. "He said he's not going to run like a coward. That he's worked too hard. That he doesn't want Lopez's charity. He's so stubborn." Truth be told, I could now see something of myself when I looked at him, a reflection in his eyes that spoke of fear. It had frozen him. I knew the feeling well enough to recognize it.

"Okay. We'll do this." Nora looked at the bay window, the little bit of light s.h.i.+ning through it highlighting her pale face, her almond-shaped eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I've thought about running, too."

This startled me. "You have?"

Nora didn't respond to my question, but looked at Isambard, who'd gone quiet. "And she's right. It's not your fault."

Issy tried to recover, saying, "You always watched those war holos, you know a lot about military stuff-are you sure you don't know anything about Lopez?"

"No. It's not like I've got every regiment memorized."

"Not just the military," I said. "You have contacts in higher society, even if you don't think you do-think about all the houses your aunt took us to the day you were ..." I gave up, the memory of her being kidnapped too overwhelming.

"Don't remind me." She stood up, determined. "Look, I want to talk to Papa. Of course he hasn't been home, so I'll have to go to him. Do you want to come?"

"Where?" I asked, my heart clicking.

"We won't go to the boats, he'd just yell at us if we did. But hopefully I can get in touch with him from somewhere in town."

"Alone? Were you actually thinking of leaving alone? Again?"

"Yes, because that's precisely what'll get his attention." She took a breath. "Sometimes, Pam, you need to break the rules to get what you need. Not want-that just makes you a brat. To get what you need. If you don't want to go, just say so."

Nora's eyes were clear, her stance expectant. Still, my heart was torn in two. Part of me did want to work with her-the same part that had screamed at a New Victorian colonel and hacked zombies to bits. The part that had rescued my parents. The part that had once fought and won.

The other part reached out for Isambard's hand again, mostly because I needed the cold comfort of his touch. He squeezed my hand in turn.

"Yes," I decided. "From now on, wherever we need to go-I'll go."

Nora did the lying for us. She told my mother we were going for a walk around the EF-an idea to which she readily agreed. In actuality we hopped the trolley and left it, disembarking at the northern end of Dahlia Park.

The sun was out for once, the sky blue. This part of the park was bright and verdant and calm, like an oasis in the midst of the city's chaos-the yin to the southern end's yang. Both dead and living people strolled down the many brick walkways, admired the feats of botany, and sailed boats in the large fountains. Almost everyone avoided the commons, where Wolfe had been executed. I wasn't sure if this was a conscious choice or if something there now felt foreboding. I wasn't about to wander over and see.

Nora stationed us near the duck pond. She bought me a handful of bread crumbs from a bra.s.s machine for the hara.s.sed birds as "cover." She then got on the phone, and after five attempts managed to reach her father.

"Papa, you haven't been home. Your absence has undone years of parenting. I'm at the duck pond in Dahlia Park unescorted, and there are some fine looking young gentlemen here, let me tell you." She glanced at the nearest crowd of men-all older salarymen getting their lunches from a cart, none of them the least bit attractive. "I don't know if I can control myself. In fact, I think I'm going to elope with Mr. Villa here. His five children are adorable, and we can always get him a replacement tooth. Oh, did I mention I'm a quarter mile from the Morgue?" And with that, she hung up.

I would have laughed if my heart didn't feel like it was currently doing a dizzying waltz inside my chest. "He's going to murder you. Us. We are both going to die, you realize that."

"I've tried being patient. Now feed the ducks."

Twenty minutes later Dr. Dearly was there. It'd actually worked.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, upon finding us. He hurried down the nearby walkway as fast as his dead-and-metal legs would carry him, and took Nora by the arm when she was within reach. "I thought you were finally taking things seriously."

"We needed to talk to you, and I know it's kind of useless to invite you out to lunch anymore." Nora kept her face neutral. "I'm sorry for taking you away from your work. I know it's important, but this is, too."

Dr. Dearly studied her closely for a moment, then looked around at the people nearby, as if wondering if he ought to launch himself at any of them. Finally, he let go of her. "What is it?"

"We need to talk to you about a guy named Edmund Lopez."

As she said the name, her father's expression s.h.i.+fted, seeming to stem less from anger and confusion and more from compunction-I didn't know what to make of it. When he next spoke, his tone had softened, become more emotional. "How do you know of him?"

Nora and I shared a look. I lifted my chin, urging her to begin. In soft tones, she explained my predicament, ending her story with, "So we need everything. The man's shoe size, if you have it."

Dr. Dearly continued to frown. "All right." He started walking down the path that circled the pond, and Nora fell in beside him. I threw the last of the feed in the general direction of the water, brus.h.i.+ng off my gloves as I hurried to catch up.

"You know all the stories I used to tell you, NoNo, about heroic efforts made by soldiers to retrieve fallen comrades?" She nodded. "Well, Lopez is the source of at least a few of those."

Keenly interested, she said, "Really?"

"Indeed. As far as I've heard, he joined up right out of school. Due to some string-pulling on behalf of his brother, he advanced through the ranks very quickly. He's young for a colonel." Dr. Dearly's artificial leg squeaked slightly with every step. "He also made a bit of a name for himself. Part of it came from the fact that he would never leave a man behind. Even if they were dead, he was determined to bring back their bodies."

"And the other part?"

"From the fact that his family was extremely powerful once." Nora's father drew us to the side as a dead child rushed by in pursuit of a squawking mallard, a living woman giving chase. "And from a few unfortunate drinking incidents. Fights. Keep in mind, I was an infectious disease expert in the army. Medical. I bounced from unit to unit. So all of this is hearsay."

I said, "My parents mentioned a place called Marblanco. Something about his family."

Before her father could speak, Nora said, "I know his family sympathized with the Punks." Dr. Dearly and I looked at her in shock, and she added, "I spoke to Michael Allister yesterday. About this, and Aunt Gene. Didn't get far, but the drinking thing meshes up with what he said." I'd known she was going out-she'd rea.s.sured me before leaving-but she hadn't told me it was to work on my problem. I felt a renewed urge to wrap her up and never let go.

Dr. Dearly sighed. "Yes. They did. Which is why this is so difficult for me."

"Difficult?"

Dr. Dearly shook his head. "The Lopez estate, Marblanco, is where I met your mother, Elizabeth. Where I convinced her to give me a chance. There was a ball, I saw her ..."

Nora's mouth rounded. At once, she looked so saddened by the thought of her mother that I found myself taking over. "What is Marblanco?"

"A great house built entirely by Punks." Dr. Dearly adjusted his hold on his cane. "After the Reed Ma.s.sacre, the government came for Lord and Lady Lopez. Their house was a monument to Punk ideals, their money had flowed freely into the coffers of Punk artisans and engineers and craftsmen. The government argued that money was used to fund terrorism. They were sent south with the others, the house torn apart, everything scattered and sold. Lord Lopez and his brother were given to relatives to raise until one of them came of age, their money put into trust. Then the land, the house, and the t.i.tle were all given back. The government didn't dare punish the children for the sins of their parents, interfere with their rightful inheritance-they would have had every aristocrat on edge. It was an enormous scandal as it was. And yet the public supported the exile of millions of Punks ... make of that what you will."

Stunned into silence, it was a second before I could say, "I've never heard about any of this. You mean there's ... a Punk relic in the middle of New Victoria?"

"I doubt you would have heard. Even you, Nora-and I raised you to look at the evidence and think for yourself." Dr. Dearly sighed. "So much of that time has been forgotten, or conveniently expunged, and yet it wasn't that long ago. Many people would rather their children never have to think about it-the Punk backlash, the Ma.s.sacre, the exile. It was a horrible time. A black period in our nation's history."

"Tell us the rest, then," Nora said.

"I doubt it would help you with your current goal." He pulled out his pocket watch. "And I need to get back to the Erika. Go home, both of you. I will speak to the Roes when I can. I feel I ought to, before you girls try anything else."

"Will you really?"

"Yes, Miss Roe. As soon as I get a chance. From what I know of the man, I'm sure the offer is a good one." Turning his eyes to me, he added, "I am sorry for everything. I truly am."

"I'm just grateful for you trying, sir." And I was. I felt a little lighter-like maybe my plan would work after all.

Dr. Dearly insisted on retaining his spot until he saw us walking away. Nora looped her arm in mine and headed obediently for the trolley stop, glancing back occasionally to wave at her father. "That actually worked really well. Next time I'll pick a more exciting location. Like a racetrack. Or a pool hall."

"So what's our next move?"

"Easy." She stopped by the sign. "We don't wait for Papa. We talk to the man himself."

25.

BRAM.

By Thursday afternoon everything had been arranged. The only person I hadn't managed to get hold of was Coalhouse-he was off the radar again. If he didn't show up again soon, I was going to have to go after him.

But first things first.

When I stepped into the house, Nora came to greet me, as usual. Before she could say a word, I caught her by the shoulder and said, "You go out with Allister, I think it's fair you go out with me. How would you like to end-run your father again, and see if we can do something to help the city? Oh, and that would involve you going to a seedy pub near the Morgue."

Nora said nothing, her brown eyes widening. After a few seconds I had to ask, "Well?"

"Yes. A thousand times yes."

Fighting back a laugh, I turned her around. "Go get a gun. Put on something plainer."

"Plainer. Right."

It took her twenty minutes to rejoin me, now dressed in some blue and green plaid abomination I'd never seen before, a knit cap, and a dusty shawl. Her holster was on. When I asked her where she got the clothes, she said, "Charity box. I told Pamma-she'll cover for me."

"You have her sneaking around? Impressive."

"I think she's starting to get on board again, yes." I escorted her to the car, and together we started off. "What's the plan?"