Chapter 15

Vesper took another long pull on the bottle of tequila. She was seated on the floor of the hotel room, in a rather ungracious heap at the foot of the bed. Morosely, unsteadily, she reached up and turned on the television. The screen was filled with a portly woman in a fake fur coat, standing near the Clark Street Bridge. A Channel 9 microphone was thrust under her mouth.

". . .and we was just walkin' down the street, an' then, an' then this music just starts. It was the loudest music I've ever heard in my life. And then, all these folks were running, and I hear this girl near me scream, "Look! It's them kids from New York lookin' for the Waterbury Treasure!"

An offscreen reporter asked, "Do you remember what the music was?"

"'Deed I do. It was that song. . .you know." She took a deep breath and began to sing. "'I'm on the top of the world, lookin' down on creation--"

Vesper swung her arm in a wild arc. The tequila bottle ruptured the TV screen with an electric pop, sparks flew, and a feeble flame momentarily licked out of the shattered picture tube.

The figure in the bed behind her stirred.

*****

Tina Quigley dropped another quarter into the slot machine. Sensing that she could fool the contraption by varying her approach, she pushed the button rather than pulling the lever. The reels spun and spun, finally stopping on two bars and a clown's face. Nothing. She fished into her oversized plastic cup for another quarter, and Lindsay pulled on her sweater.

"Mommy, I'm bored. This place is boring."

"Honey, go back over to the steps and sit down. You're going to get Mommy into trouble if those men see you down here. This is a grown-ups' place."

Lindsay's lower lip pouted out defiantly. "I wanna go back and see the statues talk at Caesar's Salad."

"Caesar's Palace, honey," Tina said carelessly as she pulled the lever this time. Again, nothing. "Well, just go back and sit down on the steps. When Mommy's done losing all of her money, we'll go watch the fancy ladies on the trapeze. Won't that be fun?"

"Circus Circus sucks hard," the seven year old called to her as she returned to her perch on the steps.

Tina's eyes shifted from the machine for an instant. "Damn it, don't let me hear you talk like that ever again! I'll wash your mouth out with soap!"

Suddenly, Lindsay spotted something across the room.

"Mommy! There's Santa! Oh, Mommy! Please let's go see Santa! Please!"

"Only if you promise not to say 'sucks' anymore."

"OK."

Since she was fresh out of quarters, Tina took Lindsay by the hand, and the girl dragged the woman up the stairs to go meet Santa Claus.

*****

It had been a Thanksgiving for the record books.

Christine, Faye, and Holly were unusually sullen as the El rumbled northward to Evanston. Early that afternoon, a shaken but stirred Will had called, pleading with them to come meet he and Laura in the alleyway behind his old Rogers Park apartment at 8 pm.

He had also asked them to bring the car, and all of his and Laura's belongings.

Will and Laura were leaving Chicago, quickly, with the law nipping at their heels. Their discovery at the Clark Street bridge had spread like wildfire. The airwaves were clogged with it, and the Trib was even planning a Thanksgiving Evening Extra. Practically everyone in the city--and by now, most certainly, the country--was singing "Top of the World" and musing on its connection to the Sooner than Never treasure hunt.

Christine broke the silence. "I really just think they should go to the press. Laura said that Chad guy was an absolute psycho when she worked for him. Isn't it just a tad creepy that he's following them around?"

"They don't know that he's been following them around," Holly observed. "They just saw him here in Chicago. Maybe he was assigned to monitor the bridge. Maybe he's on the hunt, too. Maybe he has a special assignment from Waterbury. Will and Laura are smart. They don't want to bite the hand that feeds them. Why should they rock the boat with that Vesper woman by telling her that they think another Waterbury employee is stalking them?"

"Maybe," Christine suggested, "he's been the one who's been leaking all of their activities to the press."

"Maybe he's the one who put the bomb in their car," Faye said quietly.

"Maybe he's in cahoots with that pseudo-geologist Agent M boy," Holly offered.

"Oh, God, what a web of intrigue and drama," Christine sighed. "Will and Laura's lives are more dramatic than the novel."

"Do they have movie rights for all this when it's all over?" Holly wondered.

"I just hope they'll be OK," Faye said distantly, as she stared out the window.

And the El rumbled on.

*****

"Marcy? Hello? Marcy? This is Vesper Shillington."

Chad heard these words, recognized them, understood them. He was in bed, he realized. But he couldn't open his eyes. Why couldn't he open his eyes?

"Marcy, darling, you remember me. From Waterbury. We met--was it two years ago? At Simon's Midsummer Night Barbecue in Katonah?"

Chad's head felt as though it were full of rocks. He felt a vague tingle in his limbs. The world was blurry, indistinct. Something was terribly wrong with him.

"I'm afraid that I have some unpleasant news, sweetie. Some very unpleasant news."

Chad's mind swam. Why was Vesper on the phone with his wife in New York? Where was he? What was going on? He tried to utter a sound, but his tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Your husband is a very sick and dangerous man. I came here--to Chicago--because he hasn't been doing well with his special assignment, and. . . well, we. . ." Vesper's voice trailed off. "Mr. Waterbury and I have decided to relieve Chad of his position. I had to come here to, you know, pick up some important documents and give him a formal termination."

Chad forced his eyes open. He was in his room at the Evanston Holiday Inn, laying spread-eagled on the bed. He was naked, with a sheet draped across his middle.

Each of his hands was handcuffed to the bedstead, and his legs were bound together with two of his own neckties.

And across the room stood Vesper, talking on the phone. She glanced at him, saw that his eyes were open, and blew him a kiss. Then, her expression turned icy and she spat into the phone:

"Don't yell at ME, darling! I'm trying to help you. Your husband is . . .a MONSTER!"

Chad struggled to make a sound. All that came out was an animal-like whimper. What was she doing?

"When we cleaned out his office, darling. . .oh, how I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings. . .we found--oh, this is so indelicate. We found child pornography, darling. And snuff films. Things so disgusting, I just. . . Oh, darling, I don't know what to say."

Chad struggled with his binds and forced out words. The pain in his throat was like fire. "Not true. . ." he croaked.

"And then," Vesper continued, ignoring him, "and then, when I came here tonight, he flew into a rage. I thought he was going to kill me. He threw a bottle at my head and damaged the television set! Then, he ran out into the night!"

Chad choked out, "Vesper. . .please. . ."

Vesper turned her back on him. "No, I understand, darling. I'm sorry. No, we haven't notified the authorities yet. Mr. Waterbury would be happy to pay for counseling and rehabilitation, darling, but I don't know where Chad's gone. I'll call on you when I return to New York. Yes. Good-bye."

Vesper hung up the phone and approached the bed.

*****

Lindsay squirmed on Santa's lap. "And I want a Furby, and a bouncing Tigger, and Pretty Pretty Princess, and a video called The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Are you listening to me?"

It seemed to Lindsay that Santa was not listening to her. He wasn't even looking at her. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and he was breathing funny, like her dog on a hot summer day.

"Mommy," Lindsay chirped to her mother, who stood several feet away, "this Santa is a weirdo or something."

"Just tell him what you want, honey." Tina had replenished her supply of quarters, and was streaming them into a hot "Fourth of July" slot machine. Santa's probably drunk, Tina thought bitterly.

Suddenly, Santa stood up, spilling Lindsay to the floor. She immediately started to scream. The jolly old man clutched at his chest, ripped open his merry red velvet suit and exposed a generous fat pad.

He took four gasping breaths and collapsed.

"Mommy!" Lindsay shrieked. "Santa's dead!"

Tina reached her daughter at the same time casino security swarmed into the mini-toyland.

"My God," said a youngish looking guard as he looked down at the fallen elf, "It's Simon Waterbury."

*****

"Vesper. . .what is going on?"

"What's going on? What's going on?" Vesper looked unhinged, out of control. "Oh, nothing."

"How--" Chad swallowed. "How did you get in?"

"I got a passkey at the front desk. You see, I'm your devoted wife making a surprise Thanksgiving visit. And you're a conveniently sound sleeper. I just plunged a needle into your arm and then went about my business." She lightly tickled his foot. "I just love bondage with heavy sedatives."

"But . . .what are you doing?"

"You hairless monkey idiot! Do you remember my little reporter boy? Well, he's got brains as well as butt. He was at the Clark Street Bridge today, when that little scene ensued. He saw you taking a police officer to get my treasure hunters."

"I just thought--"

"You thought?! You thought! What a rare and novel concept! You imbecile! You could have blown everything! Nimoy has seen you several times in the past month, but he didn't know who you were! He got your name off the police report."

"I was just--"

"Thank God he brought it up to me before he sent the official press release out over the wires. Did it ever occur to you that if you were linked to Waterbury, we could all go to prison? Buying car bombs, arranging petty crimes. . .this isn't a game, darling! It isn't!" she snarled.

"But that stuff you told Marcy. . .it's not true."

Vesper pretended to be shocked. "It's not? Oh, how clumsy of me." Her face contorted with rage. "Of course it's not true. But it could be. We could frame you so fast it would make your little bald head spin like Linda Blair!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I have two words for you, darling, two words: drop dead."

"Oh, my God, are you going to kill me?"

Vesper considered him for a moment, and then smiled cruelly. "No, darling, not yet. But I should. I'll give you a chance because I pity the feeble-minded. You are to drop out of sight. Completely. Totally. Stay as far away from Waterbury as possible. You're off our payroll, you're wife thinks you're a pedophile. You vanish. Go work at the Wal-Mart in Pocatello, you greasy pig."

"But Vesper. . .I know things."

"About what? About Takamoto?"

"What's Takamoto?"

"Shut up, you filthy wretch!"

"I mean," said Chad, "I know things about you."

"You're hardly in a position to make threats, Billy Swifty. If you don't vanish without a fuss, we'll make it happen. And it won't be fun, darling. It won't be fun."

Chad began to sob. Big, wet, snotty sobs.

"You simple fool." Vesper strode to the nightstand and removed a Bible, placed by the Gideons, from the drawer. Without ceremony, she whacked the side of Chad's head, as hard as she could.

Chad saw stars. Karen Carpenter's voice rang in his head. Then, everything went black.

*****

On the floor of Circus Circus, the paramedics continued their work.

But Simon Waterbury had flatlined.

Nearby, Lindsay sat eating an enormous ice cream cone on some steps, while her mother fed more quarters into the "Fourth of July" machine. The machine was hot; Tina had won $200.

*****

Faye was exhausted, dog-tired, as she prepared for bed. The uneasiness and foreboding which had plagued her all day were now a constant, dull ache in her middle. She hoped Will and Laura were okay, wherever they were.

She finished brushing her teeth and toddled into her bedroom, shutting the door and turning off the light.

As she stepped toward her bed, a strong hand in a leather gloved clamped over her mouth.

She tried to scream, but couldn't.

*****

David Nimoy was hot on the trail of Will and Laura, speeding through the soggy cornfields of southwestern Illinois.

He had assumed, correctly, that the two would be hightailing it out of town immediately after the incident at the bridge. He had hightailed it back up to Evanston, and discreetly followed Faye, Holly, and Christine to Will's old apartment in Rogers Park.

He could dimly perceive Will and Laura's taillights, about a half-mile in front of him. They were going about eighty.

A cold, misty rain was falling.

Don't get too close, he chided himself. Don't let them get suspicious.

Suddenly, their tail-lights swerved crazily. The Omega was skidding. David was momentarily blinded as their headlights flashed by.

My God, he thought, they've hit a patch of ice.

As if a plug had been pulled, the lights of Will and Laura's car vanished. David unwisely sped up, and then slammed on his brakes seconds later.

The crumpled Omega lay in a ditch beside the road.

On its roof.

Will and Laura were still inside.

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