Penny Dreadful (35 page)

No, said Moon.

Who am I speaking to, by the way?

Moon hesitated, smiled. It was a wide, shit-eating smile that I didn’t recognize or like.

Jimmy? I said.

Moon shrugged. Yeah. We’re both here, I guess.

I found you.

I didn’t want to be found.

It wasn’t hard, I said. Half the city can see your white ass.

What were you going to do when you found Jimmy Sky?

I don’t know. I thought you wanted me to kill him.

Yeah.

Long cold breath and my lungs hurt. My ass was going to sleep and I really didn’t want to wrestle Moon for the gun, not on this roof. I took a small sip of the Pale and offered it to Moon, who took it and held it up against the sky. He gazed at the liquid behind glass for a few heartbeats and I relaxed, reached for a cigarette, thinking: if Jimmy was high, he might be easier to deal with. But Moon upended the bottle and poured it out and I saw that his doglike brown eyes had become black in the last of the winter sun. The Pale was so thick it seemed to bead up and dart down the roof like a pack of silverfish.

Fuck, I said.

You’re better off, said Moon.

For a moment, I saw myself scrambling down to the roof’s edge. I saw myself trying to scoop up the disappearing Pale with my bare hands and I blinked as Moon smiled and swung the bottle at me in a slow flashing arc and I just managed to jerk my head down like a turtle and the bottle glanced off the top of my head and shattered against the chimney with a sudden white sparkle of raining glass and my eyes flickered shut again, involuntarily. I opened them and now had a good close look at Moon’s big gun.

What are you doing, Moon? What are you doing? I said.

There was glass in my hair, down my shirt.

Moon sighed. I’ve been watching the birds. It’s what rooftops are for, right. And these birds, they’re just shitty brown city birds, sparrows or starlings or who the fuck knows and I keep hearing these doves but I can’t see them. Anyway, I love the way these brown birds seem to vibrate, like their hearts are beating so hard and fast they might explode. And they don’t even know it. They don’t realize, they have no concept of self-destruction.

I nodded because I wanted to be friendly. I didn’t much want to hear a schizophrenic birdman rant on the subject of what separates us from the beasts but Moon had the terrible glow in his eyes that said there was no stopping him.

The coolest thing, said Moon. The coolest thing is flight of course. To fly, right. Everyone wants to fly and I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t want two shattered legs, okay. I want to sleep. If anything, I want to sleep alone. But it’s the way they float, they ride the currents. The thermals. They catch an updraft of warm air and just coast up to the sky and it’s so effortless it’s like they coexist with the fucking air. Can you imagine?

Meaning what? I said. That you want to coexist with yourself?

Moon swore softly and adjusted his crotch and I wished he would put his pants on. It would make this whole scene a little easier to take, I was sure.

I tried that, said Moon. I tried and tried.

Listen, I said. Let’s go. Let’s get off this roof, okay. Have some breakfast. Let’s get out the yellow pages and find someone you can talk to, a private shrink or someone. Someone you can trust.

Is there some reason I shouldn’t trust you?

No. I didn’t say that.

Whatever. Do you like birds?

Whatever, I said. You know, I met someone yesterday who just about bit my head off for saying that word to him. Your partner, Lot McDaniel.

Moon clenched his fists. My partner.

Yeah. A dapper English guy.

You don’t have a clue, do you.

What?

That fucker is running the game. He’s the man behind the curtain.

Really. I swiped at my forehead, amazed that I was sweating in the cold.

Yeah, really. His name is Theseus the Glove.

I did think he was a trifle strange.

I’ve been meaning to kill him, said Moon. Or at least scare him. But he’s evasive. He’s smarter than me, he’s smarter than Jimmy and what can I do. I’m just a Fred.

Let’s go talk to him, I said. Fix his wagon.

Fuck you. You just want me down off this roof.

I shrugged.

And why? Why do you want me down and don’t say it’s because you care about me.

I worked my jaw, took a long look at the trees and sky. Okay, I said.

Thank you, said Moon. Because we both know it’s bullshit. No one saves anyone else because they care so much. It’s all about avoiding a mess.

Yes, I said. Your dead fat naked body would be a big mess in Dizzy’s yard and I already dumped one body behind the Burger King so I can’t go back there.

Dizzy, said Moon dreamily. He sighed. She’s a peach, isn’t she? She inspired me to buy a book, if you can believe that. A fat book with no guns or horses and so far I have only read a few pages. It’s not something you can skate through while sitting on the toilet. I mean, it’s not exactly a western even though Buck Mulligan sounds like the name of a deputy marshall.

Ulysses, I said.

You know it?

Vaguely.

Her great-grandmother is the main character, or something.

Not exactly, I said. But she does have a sexy monologue in the end.

Moon nodded. I met Dizzy Bloom yesterday and she looked right through me. She’s a real honey.

A honey, I said. And she’s in the kitchen right now, she’s cleaning up blood.

I saw her last night, said Moon. She didn’t recognize me and besides, she seemed pretty sweet on that little elfboy, that Breather.

Let’s go inside, I said. Inside, okay.

Hey, fuck you. I saw you last night, said Moon. You were slipping it to that other little chick, that torturer. Did you tell her your real name?

I nodded. That was Eve, I said. She knows me.

Remember when you were a kid, said Moon. You always wished you were someone else: Tom Sawyer or Billy the Kid or Pistol Pete Maravich or even some cooler smarter faster kid you knew in school.

Yeah. I wanted to be Han Solo.

It’s fun to be someone else, said Moon. Until you can’t stop being them.

I held my breath and released it slowly through my teeth and I don’t know. I think what I felt was sympathy. It was all I had.

I know, I said. Everything gets fucked up in the end.

Fucked up. Moon laughed.

Uh-huh. Why don’t you give me the gun?

Moon shook his head. Get off this roof, Poe. Unless you want to get shot.

Nobody broke your heart, I said.

He smiled. I know. I broke it myself so why don’t you fuck off. Disappear.

What are you going to do?

I don’t know. I’m gonna have a little heart to heart with myself, I guess.

Moon or Jimmy laughed and rolled his eyes, rubbing his belly with the free hand. I felt like my eyeballs were sweating. I was staring at Moon’s unsteady trigger finger. His whole hand seemed to be vibrating and the gun was going to go off, soon. I backed away as carefully as I had come.

Okay, I said. Do you mind if I call for an ambulance?

Moon shrugged. Go ahead.

I continued to edge backward, dropping to my belly now.

Do me a favor, I said.

What’s that, said Moon.

Put your pants on, please.

Moon grinned and fired a single shot into the air. I bit the side of my cheek and tasted blood. If one of the neighbors hadn’t called the cops already, they would surely do so now. I slithered wormlike down the other side of the roof and back through the window. Breathing, I counted to ten. I sat on the edge of Dizzy Bloom’s big cozy guest bed and put my boots back on. I sniffed the air. It did smell like Eve had taken a shower. Her clothes were gone and the bed was made. I couldn’t remember if it had still been disheveled before I went out to talk to the mad birdman and I just wished she was near me. Really the worst thing about being alone was that there was never anyone to turn to and say: hey that was fucking weird, wasn’t it? I took out Moon’s cell phone and turned it on.

Wonders never ceased for the battery still held a charge.

I found the cream-colored and very nicely engraved business card that McDaniel had given me the day before. The snotty bastard answered on the tenth ring, his voice dry and very British.

Cough. McDaniel.

Hello, sir. Detective McDaniel?

Yes.

This is Ray Fine. We met yesterday.

Forced warmth. I remember.

You said for me to call you tomorrow and here it is, tomorrow.

Pause. Crackle and hum.

Indeed, it does look like tomorrow. What can I do for you Mr. Fine?

I have some information for you about Moon, or about who might have killed him. I guess there’s a nut running around out there killing cops.

Oh, well. Yawn. Anything you can tell me would help.

The killer’s name is Theseus, I said. I don’t know if that’s his first name or last name or what but I figure he’s a Greek guy. Doesn’t that sound Greek to you?

I suppose so, said McDaniel.

Is there a Greek Mafia in this town, that you know of?

No, he said.

His voice was getting pretty frosty and I smiled.

Whatever, I said. He’s definitely your guy.

Hmmm. Where did you come by this information?

Very reliable source. A fellow named Jimmy Sky.

McDaniel snorted. Jimmy Sky, did you say?

That’s right.

And where is this person? I might like to ask him a few questions.

He’s outside. Having a smoke.

Do you think you could entice him to come downtown?

Maybe. Will you buy us breakfast?

But of course.

You might regret that, I said. I can eat a stack of pancakes the size of your head.

I’m sure you can.

Do you have an expense account?

No, I don’t.

Are you dirty? I said. Because dirty cops on TV always get free breakfast.

Mr. Fine, please. Let me give you an address. Do you have something to write on?

I have the back of my hand, I said.

And I managed not to flinch when McDaniel gave me the address. I didn’t have to write it down. I knew it already. Griffin’s office.

Have you got that, then?

Perfectly, I said.

Very good. I shall see you in oh, a half-hour or so.

Cheerio.

McDaniel grunted and hung up. I exhaled. There was something wrong with me and I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Maybe the universe was okay. I hesitated, then reluctantly dialed 911. Again, I identified myself as Ray Fine. I told the female operator that I had a friend on the roof suffering a psychotic episode. Dangerous to himself and others. The operator said not to worry, they had already received three reports of a naked sniper and the cops were on their way. I choked back an obscenity and told her calmly that he was no sniper. I told her the cops would only spook him and asked her to send an ambulance, a fire truck.

I knew they would send a carload of cops, no matter what I said.

But I told the operator five times that the subject was a cop, that he was armed and he would very likely resist. I suggested that they bring a net, maybe a tranquilizer gun. The operator told me not to worry and I said I would give it a try. I hung up and glanced at the clock by the bed. The average response time was nine minutes but it was early. It was Saturday morning. I would give them six and I hoped to god I was gone before they showed.