Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (15 page)

She
waited for him to do something. Possibly involving yelling, trying to hit her,
or even derisive laughter.

Instead
he shocked the hell out of her.

"I
know. I mean, we were never, ever told that and always led to believe that they
were given the very best of everything, so there's no blaming us for thinking
that now, but... I always knew inside that it wasn't true. You can't hug and
cosset a person into rifting, can you? It had to be something unheard of. What
you're suggesting is-" He stopped and gave her a bleak stare that showed a
deep tremble starting. It seemed to come all the way from inside his soul.

Considering
she hadn't known he even had one, that was impressive.

"Yeah.
I think the word you're looking for is evil, Mr. Cordell. Now you've had a
glimpse of it in the mirror. If you're willing, I can help you find out more,
first hand. It won't be easy, but all that's needed for evil to prosper is for
good men to stand by and do nothing."

Across
from her the guy blinked, but then drew himself up straight.

"And
you think that I'm a good enough man to go against everything that I've said
for the last fifteen years, my entire life's work, based on your say so?"

"Yes,
I really do."

They
all ended up just sitting there, even though Gwen had sort of thought she'd
been promised a bed. Worse, it was pretty clear that everyone else was just
going to sit and occupy themselves with some other activity, being on
relatively normal schedules. It wasn't assured that falling asleep would be
rude, not as far as she could tell, but she wasn't going to fall asleep on
duty, if it wasn't allowed either. What if something happened, and Beth needed
her?

So
she fought for alertness, reminding herself that being up for over a day was a
thing that a lot of people did regularly. Not her, overly, since she'd lived
most of her life knowing with great assurance that nothing she was going to do
would be any better than sleep. That didn't matter though. The job was to find
murderers and all of the people with them, including Martin, were headed to the
right area for another such thing to take place.

That
meant, to her mind, which had been honed by years of television watching to
suspect everyone, no matter how unlikely, that the whole train might just be
guilty of something. Given that they had magic, it might even
literally
be the train.

Except
of course that the events had all happened on the same stretch of rail, but on
different vehicles each time. That didn't mean that the darned things might not
be in collusion, did it? She let a soft smile come to her lips, but didn't know
if it would be enough to show to the outside world really. She doubted it, but
would need a mirror to check.

Instead
of needlepoint, like the other women were doing, she pulled out her other
notebook, the one with the story about Bethany and her in it, and started
writing away. It was more interesting than watching Cordell sit in front of her
and stew. After a while at least. For a few minutes it had actually been kind
of interesting, seeing the man try to process all that she'd said, and he kept
looking at her, and then Beth, with his eyes going dark and occasionally
broody.

That
part just made sense though. After all, Gwen had done the equivalent of telling
the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan that he was well and truly wrong, and
worse, had offered to prove it to him. Cordell was sitting there now, probably
working out what the heck he was going to do with the rest of his life, if he
couldn't make a living peddling hate. The obvious answer was that he needed to
sell some different brand of hate, but she didn't mention that. After all, he
might also consider going into something else, like being a school teacher, or
factory worker.

She
wasn't really certain they had those however. Factories. She knew they had
school teachers, since she'd actually managed to meet some of them.

The
story about Beth kind of flowed, since it wasn't that hard to make up a story
that was nearly true, just adding in a few extra kind or heroic moments for her
friend and letting herself seem a bit weaker and even more clueless than she
felt most of the time. On the good side, that probably worked out pretty well,
since she sort of figured that she really seemed like that to most of the
people here. Lost and like she might just be a little airheaded.

Working
longhand wasn't perfect, but they didn't have computers, so her other choice
would have been hiring someone to do the scribing for her, which wouldn't have
worked in the moment. Her penmanship had never been that great, but hopefully
it would work well enough for this. Back home her right arm had been her strong
side, but the way her body leaned it still had thrown off how she'd carried
herself. That lifetime of bad habit and imprinting showed in her work now. It
was legible, but not pretty at all. Most of the people here, at least the ones
that she'd seen write anything, either printed very proficiently, or used
calligraphy like professionals. What she had going was more of a sloppy half
printed, half cursive thing.

Bethany
could read it though, even upside down, and snorted at her, pausing at her
needlework, which was in a nice wooden circle.

"I'm
almost
certain that I never told Erin Debussey that her desire to rule
the world was due to her feelings of inadequacy. For one thing, I'm not totally
certain I even know what that means. One of those points of psychology that
you've mentioned?"

Gwen
nodded and got out the small gum eraser that she had with her, taking the words
away pretty well, leaving only the faintest of smears on the paper. The rubber,
as they called it here. She didn't let that make her laugh, since she wasn't a
thirteen year old boy, but it was kind of funny, she had to admit.

Without
comment she rewrote the line, making it sound a little more heroic, rather than
intellectual. The problem there was that Bethany
was
really smart, but
Gwen had no clue how to say the right things to make her seem that way for this
world. She kept trying to put in her own version of what made a person clever
and smart, and that ended up seeming out of balance.

She
struggled for a bit, but then decided that simply
saying
that she was
being clever, might well be enough. Especially if she had the Gwen in the story
saying it. It was a cop out, since you were supposed to show and not tell, but
it also worked pretty well, and she was pretty certain that people that read
books like this here were used to a rather more dry and boring story than she
was going to put forward.

That
was the goal at least.

Beth
didn't correct her constantly, but she did keep peeking at the pad and grinning
every now and then, as if it were all a wonderful lark. It became so obvious
that Martin looked up, saw what Beth was doing and started reading her work
too.

Because
that wasn't going to make her self-conscious at all?

"All
right you two, the game is over. I'm putting it away now." She sounded
grumpy and wanted to, since she wasn't comfortable being observed too closely.
It put her in a combative mood, which she was hiding rather well, given
everything. She pulled out the other notepad instead and stood up, which got
Beth to do the same thing, except that her needlework went back into her pack
first. Then, carrying everything, Gwen led them over to the other two women on
the train, which got Clara the bitch to glare at them. Especially Beth. Gwen
waved a little, feeling like she was going to fall down, and made eye contact
with the smart one, who was looking at them with curiosity, not anger or
resentment.

"Ladies.
We need to ask you a few questions. This is part of a real investigation, so
you're required by law to answer as honestly as you possibly can. If you
refuse, we'll be required to take the information directly from your
minds." She was flat out making that up. If anything they had full right
of refusal here. On the good side, however, they didn't have television
programs to teach them that, and no one else jumped up to fill the two women
in, as to the real law.

The
smart one went wide eyed and nodded, and Clara the evil hater scowled and
looked like she was going to fight about it. If so, Gwen was going to punch her
in the throat. She turned her pencil around in her hand, so that the stabbing
motion would only cripple the woman, instead of kill her. It was hard to
question a corpse after all. Not
impossible
here, but they didn't have
the tools for that. Not with them.

The
smart one saw all of this and put a hand out, toward her friend.

"We'll
help you, ma'am. What do you need to know?" She sounded nervous, but that
was just to be expected, talking to authority figures in uniform. Even if they
were Bethany and herself.

"Names,
ages, reason for traveling right now. Where you were during several specific
dates. That kind of thing. Let's have the names first?"

Smarty
smiled.

"I'm
Sally Kiers, age twenty-eight, and this is Clara Samberg. Age... What is that
again Clara? Thirty?"

The
woman glared at Gwen and then sighed, looking away.

"Thirty-four,
but that better not get around. It will hurt business."

Gwen
made her notes, and then tapped the pencil on the pad.

"Reason
for traveling?"

It
was the thin one that spoke again.
Thinner
. Neither was fat, but Clara
was rather busty, once Gwen paid attention to that.

Sally
was clearly the mouthpiece of the two however. "Oh, we're traveling to our
new house, ma'am. We move every three months or so, to keep the clients from
getting bored with us." Then, clearly getting that Gwen wasn't going to
work out what that all meant, she leaned in and winked. It was flirty and a bit
saucy really. Especially given that this was an official interview. "We're
whores. Clara specializes in backdoor work, and I do oral and whatever the
client wants. I do women too. If you're interested? Later I mean. I can cut you
a special deal."

Beth
went slightly wide eyed, since that statement was clearly meant to be shocking,
but Gwen just didn't bother responding at all, just making notes of what was
said, in case it was important later.

"And,
where were you on the seventh of last month?"

That,
it turned out, was at their last house, which had been in Clinton, a few towns
over from the train station they'd left from. There was no fast way to check
that information out however. Really, the women could have been lying about
being whores at all. It would have been a great cover, since she really doubted
that most of the other people here would have questioned such a thing, would
they? Really, it was brilliant, and she decided to remember that if she ever
had to avoid questioning.

It
might have been her splitting skull, or it could have been the fatigue, but
Gwen reached into her pocket and pulled a ten met bill out, handing it to
Sally.

"Is
this sufficient for payment? If I'm getting a special rate?"

Instead
of blanching or acting awkward the woman winked again. "That it is. Do you
want me to do you here? Or we could get a sleeping chamber? You'll have to pay
for it, so I can grab hold of all of this though."

Gwen
got out another bill, a single, guessing that it would be hugely over paying
and handed it to her.

"See
that University boy? Go and offer to suck him off. Make it loud enough that I
can hear you from here, please."

There
was no hesitation at all, and when the woman got there she practically sat on
the kid's lap, giggling.

"Say,
do you want to go and get a suck job? Free and clear?"

There
was mumbling and blushing then, from the boy, but after a minute and only a
little more encouragement, he got up and moved forward, his gaze kept down the
whole time. She wasn't that surprised, since he was a man and while it may be
hard for him to feel good about, given their social rules, it was the sort of
thing he probably wasn't going to say no to. Which had been her point.

She
made a note and then looked at Clara.

"So,
backdoor work. That means anal, right? That sort of thing?"

Beth
cleared her throat, watching the other woman look scandalized, and like she
wanted to fight again.

"Um,
no dear, I believe it means that she goes to the dwelling of the men in
question, rather than working strictly from her house." Beth actually
looked a little embarrassed, which was probably for her. She just took note of
that, and nodded. She also noticed that Clara flashed Beth a slightly...
Grateful
,
expression? It was hard to tell, because it just looked a bit angry to her. A
lot of things did though.

"Good
to know."

Then
she got up and walked over to the salesman, which had Beth following along as
if she weren't in charge of everything. That was silly, since Gwen was clearly
the side-kick here. It was in all the books, or would be anyway, as soon as she
wrote them. When she got to the man with his rather grand mustache, she started
to sit, only to have Martin Cordell rush over and take the seat directly next
to the other man.
Protectively
.

In
case, Gwen was certain, the man was a masher or miscreant. That the hate leader
was taking that role seriously was a good indication that he might be a
slightly different kind of person than she'd thought before. Beth nodded at
him, as if indicating he was being totally proper about the whole thing and the
salesman just smiled. Getting it all no doubt.

Gwen
started to write his name.

"Eugene
Hadley?" Glancing up at him she saw a large and pleasant nod. It was a bit
too smooth, but the man agreed with her without hesitation.

"That's
me. I heard your questions earlier. So, age fifty-two, traveling salesman and
inventor. I focus mainly on radiatives for the home, as well as clever little
gadgets and the occasional trinket. Would you ladies like to see my
wares?"

Beth
looked at the man frankly and smiled.

"We
would, but for the moment, if you'd be willing to answer some questions? During
the recent murders, were you near the events at all? In the same County,
perhaps?"