The Thousand - Kevin Guilfoile [136]
“We’re sorry about Canada’s friends,” Gary Jameson said, as if she weren’t there.
“It’s disturbing.” Canada turned to the voice and was surprised to see Elizabeth Gold at the table. “I don’t think she’s safe.”
Myra said, “This Jennings from the casino. Do they really think he did it?”
“It appears that way.” Dr. Russo. When did he sit down? How come she wasn’t noticing people until they started to speak? “That could mean a lot of things.”
“The correct answer is usually the simplest,” Jameson said. “It’s certainly easy to see how someone could become infatuated with Ms. Gold. She has charisma. She could easily attract a stalker.” It sounded sort of like a compliment. She tried to smile.
“Bullshit,” her mother said. “Rhodes sent him. Rhodes and the Sheik. They hired him to kill her.”
Steve Rhodes? Nada thought. She remembered the couple in the coffee shop.
“What about Rhodes? What do we do?”
“His plane landed an hour ago.”
“Is he really coming? That takes balls he doesn’t have.”
“He didn’t get off the plane.”
“More like it. So who did?”
“Nothing but cargo.”
“Are we on top of that?”
“We’re trying.”
“Shit.”
“Who else is on the plane?”
“We can guess.”
“The Sheik.”
“If the Sheik is there, so are Svahn, Hage, Elkan.”
“Crawford.”
“An acusmatici who’s who. St. John, too, probably.”
Nada remembered a high school trip to the island of Saint John—six kids, with two parents chaperoning. One of her friends brought some weed late at night to the beach and another pointed out that Canada Gold would be a good name for a type of marijuana. Nada realized then that she couldn’t smoke pot that night or any other if she didn’t want that joke to follow her around the rest of her life. Drugs never really agreed with her spider anyway. Except vodka.
“I need the cell towers back on,” Jameson said. “I want the calculations on paper only and double-checked before the wireless goes live.”
“Why don’t we turn the lights back on?” Her mother. “The event had its purpose. Nada has remained here at the house. We kept her from the hospitals. She’s not going anywhere. And as far as diversion goes, look at the crowd out front. We’re just calling attention to ourselves.”
Jameson cleared something from his throat. “With regard to that, we have a problem. I was worried about the, um, restlessness in the park, as well. I ordered the power back on three hours ago.”
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know. Equipment trouble, I suppose. It’s out of our hands now.”
“I hate fucking ComEd.”
An argument followed that didn’t much interest Nada. She turned her attention to the art on the walls. Myra Jameson was framed by a large car-toony image of an angel in a pink robe holding a sign with some words on it, probably from the Bible, although Nada was no expert. Jameson had said he had purchased dozens of Finsters before he’d become obsessed with Burning Patrick. He also said Patrick would have to be as prolific as Finster if he was going to finish his mural.
“—none of the risks I take is unacceptable,” she heard Jameson say when she started paying attention again. “Jesus, you sound like him. Like the Sheik.”
Hugh arrived with a skillet, from which he spooned an omelette onto plates for Jameson and Myra and Russo and her mother. Then he returned to the kitchen for a fifth plate, a fried egg placed in a large piece of sourdough bread for Nada. He smiled. “Molly allowed your mother into her kitchen to make it. She doesn’t do that every day.”
“Rhodes and the Sheik are a devious combination. Poisonous.”
“The Sheik’s pissed about the airplanes. Matuszak and Butler were close to him.”
“The Sheik believes Matuszak and Butler will be reincarnated, so what does he care?” Halfhearted laughter.
“So will Marlena. At least that’s what the Sheik would say.”
“He knows I don’t believe that shit. Marlena wasn’t finished in this life.”
“And now they’re coming for Canada? Rhodes and that horrible