Chapter 43: Apologetics
In Which Strephon is uncharacteristically honest
“We will set aside the paperweights for the nonce,” Strephon decided. “Where were we? Ah. Melchior's party.” He gave Cassandra a precis of what he had gleaned from the cocktail chatter, including his encounter with Inanna.
“Then Melchior wasn't behind the werewolf attack after all?”
“That's what Inanna said.” Strephon frowned.
“Do you believe her?”
“In this case, I think she was telling the truth. I believe her, I just don't think I trust her.”
“I wish I could have seen you dump champagne on her,” Cassandra said with a half-giggle.
“Well, that was imprudent. She took her revenge by playing that prank on you and Saunders, switching the game in the console to trap you.”
Cassandra was silent for a moment. “I wish I could remember more of what Byron said to me when we were in that game. I tried talking to him about it afterwards, but he couldn't remember either. Or he didn't want to.”
“Yes, I suspect that when Melchior took you aside that night, he performed some judicious editing to your memory.”
Cassandra mouthed something silently which could have been “The bastard.” Strephon did not reply, but nodded in agreement.
He went on to tell her about his interview with Marcie Cooper, the expatriate fae with the missing werewolf lover, and what he learned about Lukas Bianka's pack. “That's where I was that afternoon when you came to call on me,” he explained. “I'm a bit surprised Devon let you in.”
“He didn't. I... well, I climbed through a window.”
Strephon raised his eyebrows. “That was enterprising.”
He moved on to his conversation with Ms Kurayami at the Club Cyba-Netsu Cassandra listened to him intently. “That would seem to clear Kurayami. If she was involved in Melchior's plot, she wouldn't need to ask you to tell her more about him.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps she is only somewhat involved and trying to decide if she wants to go in deeper. Or perhaps she was just trying to find out how much I knew about things myself.” He pursed his lips. Yes. There was something else he needed to add. “I should have told you that Kurayami is a vampire.”
“You wanted to protect me, right?”
“I would have protected you better had I let you know what the danger was. You would have known to avoid the Cyba-Netsu. And you could have warned Miss Draper.”
“That wouldn't have helped. Telling Cecily about the vampires would only make her more interested.”
“Well, at the very least I should have let you know that I believed you about the waiter. It was cruel of me to make you doubt yourself. I didn't want to discuss the matter in front of Kurayami, but I could have made it clear afterwards that I did not think you were merely seeing things.”
He took a deep breath. “I also need to apologize for our quarrel the following day regarding your job at the Morning Star.”
“Oh. That.” She seemed embarrassed by the mention.
“I was suspicious of Knox's motives, due to his friendship with Melchior, but the manner in which I expressed those suspicions was tactless and offensive in the highest degree.”
“It was,” Cassandra agreed. “But don't forget, I did break a carton of eggs over your head.”
“I thoroughly deserved it. Besides, I understand that egg shampoos are extremely healthy. They add protein to the follicles or some such thing. I owe you my thanks.” She laughed at that, which gave Strephon the courage to continue. “On the subject of Mister Knox. When you interviewed with him for your job, you had more time to speak with him than I did. What are your impressions of him?”
She paused to consider for a moment. “He seemed friendly enough. A jolly, hearty sort. Eager to put me at ease. Complimentary about my writing. He seemed enthusiastic about having me come to work at the Star.”
Strephon reacted more to the expression on her face than her words. “But...?” he prompted.
She hesitated, as if it were a thing too trivial to mention. “He said I'd make a fine addition to the Morning Star Family. Whenever a boss refers to his company as being like a 'family', it usually means that 'Papa Knows Best' and any back-talk will get you a sound spanking.”
Strephon gave a slow nod. He hadn't regarded things that way before, but he could see her point. “Still,” he said, “there's nothing extrordinarily sinister about this. We will table Mister Knox.”
“Along with the paperweights.”
“Yes. Looking back on the week, I think the next substantial lead was one I didn't even realize was a part of my investigation until very recently. I refer to your ordeal with Belladonna Morrigan. I realize this must be a difficult experience to revisit, but could you tell me exactly what she said and what you saw while you were her prisoner?”
Cassandra recounted the whole story from her meeting Morrigan at the theater, through her escape from Morrigan's workshop and the fight in the woods outside Morrigan's cottage. Strephon listened gravely and did not interrupt. When Cassandra finished, she paused to let him digest things before adding, “Now it's my turn for a question. What really was the situation between you and Ms Morrigan?”
“Oh, yes. I suppose you ought to know. I met her through ISIS. That's an organization of witches, not the Egyptian deity.”
“I know. The Oracle used to get letters from them during the war in Syria requesting that we not refer to the Islamic State by that name. We've been calling ourselves 'ISIS' much longer than they have, they said. Potts ran one of their letters along with a photo of a sexy witch under the headline 'LOCAL WITCHES HEX TERRORISTS' and I think that made them stop.”
“I see. Well, my wife, Phyllis, had social connections with the group. After her death, I lost contact with them for many years until some developers put out a plan to pave over the Stillwell Forest to put up a shopping centre or an opium den or a bowling alley or some such thing. The ladies of ISIS started a campaign to block the project and recruited me to help. Mostly making sure all their petitions and challenges passed legal muster, and to present their case to the Hidden Council. Belle Morrigan was one of the ladies I worked with and she... well...”
“She misconstrued your customary affability into expressions of affection.”
“Yes! That's it exact--” He stopped. “That's a line from The Mikado, isn't it.”
Cassandra smiled at his annoyance. “Mrs. Trotter said that Morrigan played all the 'Katisha' roles for their group, so I did a little research. I thought it might help understand her psychology.”
“Humph! Well, she developed an interest in me. A 'pash', I suppose you might say. And I didn't notice it because I wasn't paying close enough attention. I was still in mourning for Phyllis, and it didn't occur to me that another woman might be interested in me. And when I did realize... I tried to break things off with her. I should have been more gentle. She took it badly. Perhaps it wouldn't have made any difference.”
He fell quiet and for a long moment only the ticking of the mantlepiece clock marred the silence of the room. Cassandra waited a few more ticks before softly saying, “Is that why you've been keeping your distance from me? Because you were afraid I might become obsessive like her?”
She looked away from him. Perhaps she was afraid what his answer might be. But she needed to know.
“I was afraid I might hurt you, as I did her.”
“I think you could have ended things between us at any time if you really wanted to.”
The same thing had occurred to Strephon, frequently. Dash it, he thought he had ended it after their quarrel in the Friendlee-Mart. But he couldn't very well abandon her when Morrigan abducted her, could he?
Strephon sighed. “You're right. I suppose I didn't.”
NEXT: The Unspeakable in Pursuit of the Uneatable
