Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [118]
Suddenly I divined a human presence behind the far door, and so did the Taltos.
A tall dark-skinned woman came in, perhaps fifty years in age, but extremely well groomed and seductive—black-rimmed eyes, heavily made-up face, blood red lips, and a head of luxuriant dark hair and a pinched waist, breast-heavy figure.
She was holding in her hand an obviously religious statue. She was fastidiously dressed in a mauve silk dress with a golden chain for a belt, black net stockings and sharp heels, flashy gold earrings, and she spoke immediately in heavily accented Spanish.
“Well, I finally found it but I had to move Heaven and Earth, I tell you, you’d think it should be common enough, with the Pope going all the way to Mexico, but I had to go on the Internet and find it, and here it is.”
And there it was!
She set it down on the low white table along the wall! A brilliantly painted statue of Saint Juan Diego!
I was thunderstruck.
There he stood, brave little fellow, with his arms out, and the unmistakable image of Our Lady of Guadalupe in full rich color emblazoned on his tilma, and the famous roses dropping to his feet, and all this in unmistakable detail! Of course, the image of Our Lady was glued on, and the flowers were paper, but so what, it was Juan, my Juan Diego.
“And you left the party just to give this to me?” said Oberon with dripping mock affection.
“Oh, shut your filthy mouth,” she said. “And who are these people?” Flash of brilliant smile. “Ah, you are my son’s guests, are you not? Welcome.”
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars for that statue,” I said. “No, I’ll make you a better deal. I’ll let you live. After all, what good would a thousand dollars be to a dead woman? Go get in one of those small boats in the marina and take off. Everybody else on this island’s doomed, except for the tall people.”
She stared at me with immense curiosity and utter fearlessness, eyes opaque, mouth hard. In a flash she had a black pistol in her hand. And in a flash I’d taken it from her and thrown it on the bed.
“You think my son won’t cut you and your fancy friends to pieces? How dare you!”
“Better take my offer,” I said. “Woman, thy faith has saved thee! Head for the marina, now.”
“Lucia, I think he’s telling you the truth,” said Oberon in the same languid disdainful voice with which he spoke to us. “I can smell death. It’s all around us. I think the rule of the Drug Merchants has come to an ignominious end. Alas, your Ariel is free, my precious and prosperous pussycat, why don’t you go?”
Oberon moved slowly across the room, swaying a little from one hip to the other, dipping his head to this side and that, and dipping down to pick up the gun, and looking at it as if it was a curiosity, and as Lucia watched, perplexed, enraged, frustrated, furious, helpless, Oberon slipped the gun into the right position and shot Lucia three times in the face.
So much for Lucia. She went down with knees bent, arms out, face pulp.
“She was kind to me.” he said. “The statue is for me. I visited the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe when the Secret People went to Mexico City. You can’t have the statue. Even if you rescue me, I won’t give it to you.”
“Cool,” I replied. “You’re in such a good bargaining position. But who am I to steal Saint Juan Diego from anyone? I’m sure I can find another statue. But why did you kill her if she was so kind?”
Oberon shrugged. “To see if I could do it,” he said. “Are you ready now to go after the others? Now that I’m packing, I am more than ready to play my part.”
“Oh God in Heaven,” Mona sighed. I could see the shudder pass through her. She took several shaky steps forward and then