left over from
that."
"That's part of what we're here to find out," Nyvysk said.
The jokes about vibrators, etc.-Nyvysk knew-were
meant as good-natured humor. But it wasn't coming off.
Already, there was something in the undercurrent here. People like this, in close quarters, always start tearing each other up
eventually, Nyvysk realized. He suspected that some fuses
had already been lit.
"Look at Willis," Cathleen said. "He's staring at that awful bust of Copernicus."
The blank-eyed statue of white, unpolished stone sat on a
carved pedestal, a determined looking man in a cloak and
fur-minivered cap, a book clasped to his chest.
"That's Copernicus?" Willis asked. He touched it-unafraid-with his gloved hand.
"No," Nyvysk said. "It's Julian the Apostate. He was an
anthropmancer-he read the future by the casting of human entrails."
"Oh, that's just lovely," Adrianne said.
"At least I think that's who it is ... Cathleen, you
should know."
She looked at the bust and shrugged. "I don't know But
don't laugh at divination."
Willis shot another cryptic comment to Mack. "Mack
probably thinks it's Ron Jeremy."
Mack exchanged a glare, and some confusing moments
ticked by, in silence.
Adrianne scratched her head. "Who the hell is Ron Jeremy?"
Nyvysk had no idea.
Cathleen glanced at the TV. "Well, Martha Stewart's over
now so I guess Adrianne's back with us. Instead of sitting
around, why don't we all go choose our bedrooms?"
"We're standing in our bedrooms," Nyvysk said.
"What?" several people said at once.
"Our client, Mrs. Hildreth, agreed that I should be the
coordinator-"
"Bullshit!" Cathleen objected.
"Not in charge, per se," Nyvysk hastened to quell her
ego, "but the domestic coordinator during our stay. She
agreed to that, and I think we should all go by it."
"That's fine with me," Willis said.
Adrianne shrugged, but Cathleen said, "Why? Why
?
you.*,
"Because it makes more sense from a practical standpoint."
"Just like a man!"
Adrianne looked bored. "He's right, Cathleen. He's just a
technician. You, Willis, and I aren't exactly stable in certain
circumstances. This place could be charged."
"You all have psychic sensitivities. I don't," Nyvysk finished.
Cathleen lay back on the couch, head staring up at a curious brass chandelier. "Okay, fine. But what's this about
bedrooms?"
Nyvysk addressed them all. "I feel it's essential that we all
sleep in the same area. This South Atrium seems perfect. It's
large enough that we'll all have privacy when we need it.
We need to be together when we're asleep-especially psychics, and especially if this house is charged. We're all more
vulnerable in a sleep-state. Sleeping in separate rooms could be a catastrophe. The Suit Manor Case, Wroxton Hall in
Maryland, the Immanuel Rectory in New York City. All of
those places had serious accidents that could have been prevented had the investigators not slept in separate rooms."
Cathleen conceded. "As usual, you're right. But-damn
it-I had my heart set on that huge suite on the fourth floor
with the dark-blue wallpaper and crystal crosses."
Mack suddenly looked pale. "The, uh, that would be the
Aldinoch Suite. That's where Mr. Hildreth had his autosexual asphyxia parties.11
Cathleen blanched. "Like I said, this room is perfect."
"But where will we sleep?" Adrianne asked. "On these
couches? The daybeds?"
"A delivery truck should be here any minute. Beds, partitions, nightstands, everything we need." He pointed toward the north wall and its green-velour wallcovering.
"We'll set up the sleeping area over there, and over here-"
he pointed to the windowed side of the room-"this will
be our meeting area. We might have to bring some extra tables in, and move some of this furniture, but I doubt that
Mrs. Hildreth would object."
"You can do anything you want," Mack said. "You guys
have free run."
"When will we actually get started?" Willis asked Nyvysk.
"With a game plan, I mean?"
"Tonight,
that."
"That's part of what we're here to find out," Nyvysk said.
The jokes about vibrators, etc.-Nyvysk knew-were
meant as good-natured humor. But it wasn't coming off.
Already, there was something in the undercurrent here. People like this, in close quarters, always start tearing each other up
eventually, Nyvysk realized. He suspected that some fuses
had already been lit.
"Look at Willis," Cathleen said. "He's staring at that awful bust of Copernicus."
The blank-eyed statue of white, unpolished stone sat on a
carved pedestal, a determined looking man in a cloak and
fur-minivered cap, a book clasped to his chest.
"That's Copernicus?" Willis asked. He touched it-unafraid-with his gloved hand.
"No," Nyvysk said. "It's Julian the Apostate. He was an
anthropmancer-he read the future by the casting of human entrails."
"Oh, that's just lovely," Adrianne said.
"At least I think that's who it is ... Cathleen, you
should know."
She looked at the bust and shrugged. "I don't know But
don't laugh at divination."
Willis shot another cryptic comment to Mack. "Mack
probably thinks it's Ron Jeremy."
Mack exchanged a glare, and some confusing moments
ticked by, in silence.
Adrianne scratched her head. "Who the hell is Ron Jeremy?"
Nyvysk had no idea.
Cathleen glanced at the TV. "Well, Martha Stewart's over
now so I guess Adrianne's back with us. Instead of sitting
around, why don't we all go choose our bedrooms?"
"We're standing in our bedrooms," Nyvysk said.
"What?" several people said at once.
"Our client, Mrs. Hildreth, agreed that I should be the
coordinator-"
"Bullshit!" Cathleen objected.
"Not in charge, per se," Nyvysk hastened to quell her
ego, "but the domestic coordinator during our stay. She
agreed to that, and I think we should all go by it."
"That's fine with me," Willis said.
Adrianne shrugged, but Cathleen said, "Why? Why
?
you.*,
"Because it makes more sense from a practical standpoint."
"Just like a man!"
Adrianne looked bored. "He's right, Cathleen. He's just a
technician. You, Willis, and I aren't exactly stable in certain
circumstances. This place could be charged."
"You all have psychic sensitivities. I don't," Nyvysk finished.
Cathleen lay back on the couch, head staring up at a curious brass chandelier. "Okay, fine. But what's this about
bedrooms?"
Nyvysk addressed them all. "I feel it's essential that we all
sleep in the same area. This South Atrium seems perfect. It's
large enough that we'll all have privacy when we need it.
We need to be together when we're asleep-especially psychics, and especially if this house is charged. We're all more
vulnerable in a sleep-state. Sleeping in separate rooms could be a catastrophe. The Suit Manor Case, Wroxton Hall in
Maryland, the Immanuel Rectory in New York City. All of
those places had serious accidents that could have been prevented had the investigators not slept in separate rooms."
Cathleen conceded. "As usual, you're right. But-damn
it-I had my heart set on that huge suite on the fourth floor
with the dark-blue wallpaper and crystal crosses."
Mack suddenly looked pale. "The, uh, that would be the
Aldinoch Suite. That's where Mr. Hildreth had his autosexual asphyxia parties.11
Cathleen blanched. "Like I said, this room is perfect."
"But where will we sleep?" Adrianne asked. "On these
couches? The daybeds?"
"A delivery truck should be here any minute. Beds, partitions, nightstands, everything we need." He pointed toward the north wall and its green-velour wallcovering.
"We'll set up the sleeping area over there, and over here-"
he pointed to the windowed side of the room-"this will
be our meeting area. We might have to bring some extra tables in, and move some of this furniture, but I doubt that
Mrs. Hildreth would object."
"You can do anything you want," Mack said. "You guys
have free run."
"When will we actually get started?" Willis asked Nyvysk.
"With a game plan, I mean?"
"Tonight,
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