leaned back, taking an appreciative draw.
“Thoth?” said Gabriel.
“He told us that’s what the symbol meant. The cartouche. It’s the name of an Ancient Egyptian god. Mullins seemed to know all about it. Turns out he’s a bit of a history buff.”
“Thoth was the god of knowledge,” said Gabriel, “responsible for keeping the heavens in check. That’s about as much as I remember.”
“Well, whoever he was, he’s got a lot to answer for,” said Donovan. “Mullins wondered if it was a cult of some kind, a revivalist sect, trying to bring the old religion back.”
“He’s a smart kid. You should listen to him.”
“What do you think I’m doing here, reciting it all to you?”
Gabriel laughed, and then, wincing, decided to get up and search for some painkillers. He found them in a bureau drawer, and, after spilling a heap of unopened mail onto the carpet, took six, swallowing them dry. He left the landslide of post where it had fallen.
“Keep on like that and the medication will get you faster than the injuries,” said Donovan.
“It’s not as if I have any other options,” said Gabriel, “except to strap it up and keep going. We’ve got work to do. These murders might be the key to bringing down the Reaper, if we can prove there’s a connection. It’s the best shot we’ve had in months.” He walked over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. “And then there’s Ginny. I’m determined to make sure she’s all right, Felix, even if she doesn’t want to see me.”
“About that,” said Donovan. “When I mentioned her name to Landsworth, he went as white as a sheet. Denied all knowledge, of course, claimed he’d never heard of her, but there was something there, a spark of recognition.”
Gabriel placed his empty glass on the counter. “Sounds as if I should pay him a visit.”
“Not yet. I know you’re anxious to find her, but give me a couple of days before you go roughhousing. I’ve got a tail on him. If he so much as twitches, I’ll know about it. At the moment he’s the best lead we’ve got. I can’t risk scaring him off.”
“All right,” said Gabriel. “A couple of days. The first sign you get that she’s here in New York, though, you let me know.”
“Of course. I want her back as much as you do,” said Donovan. “She’s the only one who knows how to keep you in check.”
Gabriel smiled. “Two days. Then I’m going after him.”
“If you’re in any fit state. You need to
rest
.”
“And you need a vacation. Neither of us is very good at getting what he wants.”
Donovan pulled himself up out of his chair. “Isn’t that the truth.” He took another cigarette from Gabriel’s tin, before walking to the door. “Take care of yourself, Gabriel. And maybe take a shower.”
“You cut down on the cigarettes, and I’ll think about it,” said Gabriel.
He heard Donovan chuckling as he pulled the door shut behind him.
* * *
The Café Deluxe was pleasant enough, considered Gabriel, except that it reminded him of every other jazz club in every other city he’d ever visited. The lighting was low, the music was loud and the morals were loose. He supposed there was a time when that would have seemed like a draw, but now, it just left him feeling hollow. There was nothing to connect him to these people and their empty lives, their days filled with drinking and fucking and drinking some more.
Not that his own life was particularly exemplary. He couldn’t really argue that putting on a mask and flying around the rooftops brawling with mobsters was any better than what these people were doing—in fact, in the eyes of the law it was worse—but at least he felt he was doing something with his life. After returning from the war he’d soon fallen back into his old ways, playing host to the infinite party, blotting out the world and all its madness with booze, and girls, and anything at all that didn’t remind him of France, and the blood-spattered
“Thoth?” said Gabriel.
“He told us that’s what the symbol meant. The cartouche. It’s the name of an Ancient Egyptian god. Mullins seemed to know all about it. Turns out he’s a bit of a history buff.”
“Thoth was the god of knowledge,” said Gabriel, “responsible for keeping the heavens in check. That’s about as much as I remember.”
“Well, whoever he was, he’s got a lot to answer for,” said Donovan. “Mullins wondered if it was a cult of some kind, a revivalist sect, trying to bring the old religion back.”
“He’s a smart kid. You should listen to him.”
“What do you think I’m doing here, reciting it all to you?”
Gabriel laughed, and then, wincing, decided to get up and search for some painkillers. He found them in a bureau drawer, and, after spilling a heap of unopened mail onto the carpet, took six, swallowing them dry. He left the landslide of post where it had fallen.
“Keep on like that and the medication will get you faster than the injuries,” said Donovan.
“It’s not as if I have any other options,” said Gabriel, “except to strap it up and keep going. We’ve got work to do. These murders might be the key to bringing down the Reaper, if we can prove there’s a connection. It’s the best shot we’ve had in months.” He walked over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. “And then there’s Ginny. I’m determined to make sure she’s all right, Felix, even if she doesn’t want to see me.”
“About that,” said Donovan. “When I mentioned her name to Landsworth, he went as white as a sheet. Denied all knowledge, of course, claimed he’d never heard of her, but there was something there, a spark of recognition.”
Gabriel placed his empty glass on the counter. “Sounds as if I should pay him a visit.”
“Not yet. I know you’re anxious to find her, but give me a couple of days before you go roughhousing. I’ve got a tail on him. If he so much as twitches, I’ll know about it. At the moment he’s the best lead we’ve got. I can’t risk scaring him off.”
“All right,” said Gabriel. “A couple of days. The first sign you get that she’s here in New York, though, you let me know.”
“Of course. I want her back as much as you do,” said Donovan. “She’s the only one who knows how to keep you in check.”
Gabriel smiled. “Two days. Then I’m going after him.”
“If you’re in any fit state. You need to
rest
.”
“And you need a vacation. Neither of us is very good at getting what he wants.”
Donovan pulled himself up out of his chair. “Isn’t that the truth.” He took another cigarette from Gabriel’s tin, before walking to the door. “Take care of yourself, Gabriel. And maybe take a shower.”
“You cut down on the cigarettes, and I’ll think about it,” said Gabriel.
He heard Donovan chuckling as he pulled the door shut behind him.
* * *
The Café Deluxe was pleasant enough, considered Gabriel, except that it reminded him of every other jazz club in every other city he’d ever visited. The lighting was low, the music was loud and the morals were loose. He supposed there was a time when that would have seemed like a draw, but now, it just left him feeling hollow. There was nothing to connect him to these people and their empty lives, their days filled with drinking and fucking and drinking some more.
Not that his own life was particularly exemplary. He couldn’t really argue that putting on a mask and flying around the rooftops brawling with mobsters was any better than what these people were doing—in fact, in the eyes of the law it was worse—but at least he felt he was doing something with his life. After returning from the war he’d soon fallen back into his old ways, playing host to the infinite party, blotting out the world and all its madness with booze, and girls, and anything at all that didn’t remind him of France, and the blood-spattered
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