The Manolo Matrix (28 page)

“I’m glad you paid attention,” Devlin said. “That’s how you noticed her.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, and told him so.

“Watching faces. What we talked about earlier. You paid attention and it saved my life.”

“Ah,” I said. I wasn’t quite sure how to tell him that his safety tip hadn’t been the key. “That wasn’t exactly what happened.”

“Don’t tell me you just got lucky?”

“No. Well, sort of.” I cleared my throat. “She was wearing an Armani trench coat,” I said. “And low-heeled boots. It’s March, but it’s been warm. And so I noticed the outfit. Then I noticed the face and, well, you know what happened next.”

“In other words, I was saved by your fashion sense.”

“Pretty much. If she’d been Levi’s and a denim jacket I doubt I would have paid her a second glance.

That’s tourist clothes.”

“A dress?”

“Depends on the designer, but probably. After all, I’d have to check out her shoes.”

“The wonders of the female mind,” he said, but he said it with a smile, so I didn’t have to hit him.

The clerk came back with Devlin’s size, and he switched shoes, asking the clerk to toss the old ones.

We paid cash, then headed back out, watching our back the whole way.

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“Do you think that did it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I hope so. Because if the tracker wasn’t in my shoes, then I’m fresh out of ideas.”

We walked up Avenue of the Americas to the Jekyll & Hyde Club, watching faces as we did.

Fashion sense can only take you so far.

It was a bit of a hike, but we were pumped up on adrenaline. Also, we’d decided to forego the Plymouth Theater, at least for the time being. Times Square was just too hot.

As we walked, I looked sideways at Devlin. “If you’d had a clear shot, you’d have taken her out.

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Wouldn’t you?”

“Bet your ass.”

“Self-defense, right?”

He stopped, turning to look at me, his forehead furrowed. “Damn straight.”

“Would you feel guilty? Remorse?”

His face hardened. “Not even a little bit. The bitch knew what she was getting into when she came after us. Hell, when she got into that life.”

“She made her decisions, then.”

“Exactly.”

“Randall made his decisions, too,” I said, then started walking again, hoping I made my point.

A few seconds later, Devlin fell into step beside me again. We walked the rest of the way in silence, and after a few minutes, the Jekyll & Hyde Club loomed in front of us. I paused just long enough to admire the kitschy, overblown entrance, with stone columns, skeletons decked out in suits guarding the entrance, Romanesque statuary, and dozens of other haunted-mansiony-type details.

Devlin looked them up and down before turning to me. “Cute,” he said. “Come here often?”

“Out of town visitors get a kick out of the place,” I said. “An old boyfriend brought me here once.

That’s how I found it in the first place.” I cleared my throat. “Actually, there’s another place in Greenwich Village, but it’s the Jekyll & HydePub. So this should be the right one.”

“Lucky for us you knew it was here. I’ve never heard of it.”

“Really? It’s a total tourist magnet.”

“Exactly,” he said, in the tone of a native New Yorker who eschewed the kitschy tourist stuff.

Ah well.

What can I say? I love my transplanted-ness. How else would I have an excuse to come to places like this?

We headed to the entrance and told the livery-clad cast member that we’d like to go in for lunch.

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Everyone on staff tended to be aspiring actor. For a while, I’d even considered working there myself.

“You’re lucky, miss,” he said in a cockney accent. “The mistress herself is giving tours today.

You wait here, and she’ll be along shortly.”

Devlin raised his eyebrows, but didn’t argue as we waited in a roped off queue. Come the evening, I

knew, the area would be filled with excited teenagers, tourists, and couples out for a different kind of bar experience. Right now, thankfully, we’d have the place pretty much to ourselves.

We didn’t have long to wait, and after only a few minutes, the heavy doors opened and a diminutive woman with granny glasses stepped out, costumed in period garb that I didn’t quite recognize. A cross between a nineteenth-century lady and a scullery maid, maybe. She held a cocktail in one hand, pressed the other against her mouth, and belched.

“Oh, dearies, dearies, do excuse me. One tends to take a few too many nips after spending too much time in the master’s laboratory. A sad truth, sad,” she said, with a little shake of her head.

“But come, come,” she said, gesturing us inside. “Let us see if the master is willing to let you in.

He’s very particular, you know. His work is so important. So…ground-breaking.”

As she spoke, she led us into a dark passage, mirrored on one side and with a closed door on the other.

The door closed behind us, leaving us trapped in the alcove. Devlin shot a quick glance my way, but I

just shrugged. It was silly and designed for kids, but I loved the place. And even though it was
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supposed to be scary, considering what real life was like at the moment, the foolishness was really quite refreshing.

“I’m Prunella Pippet,” our guide said. “I’ve been working with the good doctor, helping him organize his collection of…curiosities.” She peered at us closely. “You know the story of Dr.

Jekyll?”

“Sure,” I said.

“And of Mr. Hyde?”

“Absolutely.”

Prunella nodded, ostensibly satisfied. “You’ve been here before, I see. Well, we’ll have to see if you’re still deemed worthy of entrance. If you have the strength of character to withstand the horrors you’ll find inside.”

As she spoke, the lights dimmed and the mirrored wall changed to show a mummified man—who looked remarkably like television’s Crypt Keeper—stumbling toward us, cackling.

As he did, the ceiling began to collapse, protrusions bearing down toward us. “Be strong, dear guests!” Prunella cried. “You must prove you’re worthy of entering.”

I shot a quick glance toward Devlin, sure he was probably rolling his eyes, but to my surprise, he was actually grinning.

Suddenly, the ceiling halted. Prunella sighed with apparent relief. “Thank goodness you’ve been deemed worthy!” The wall behind her opened and she escorted us to a traditional-looking restaurant entrance, complete with a hostess at a podium. Traditional, that is, except for the glass elevator shaft now revealed beside us, showing the mummified bodies of two lost travelers wasting away on top of the elevator car.

Pretty cool stuff, all in all.

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“Two?” the girl asked.

“Actually, we just need—”

“Sure,” I said, cutting Devlin off.

He cocked a brow in question.

“We don’t know it’s at the lost and found. We might as well sit. The clue could be anywhere here.”

He nodded, and we followed the hostess past a long bar on our right, mostly empty now, but it would likely be full to overflowing that evening. On our left, the walls were lined with creepy portraits over tables filled with tired adults and rapturous children.

The eyes in the paintings moved, keeping track of us as we followed the hostess to a table nestled under a huge bronze statue of Zeus. “Be careful not to anger the god,” the girl said, then left the menus and headed back to the front.

“This place is…interesting,” Devlin said.

“I think it’s a hoot.”

“I’d rather we didn’t have all those eyes staring at us,” he added, nodding to the portraits. “Who knows who might be behind those pictures.”

I started to laugh, but caught myself. Under the circumstances, he had a point. The place was a literal house of horrors. “Maybe it was a mistake to come here,” I said, looking around. Dark and spooky, with at least four floors of restaurant space, the place overflowed with places to hide.

I looked around again, this time searching the place for Birdie hiding in the dark. I didn’t see her, and that was good, but she could be anywhere. The place had nooks and crannies, as well as over-the-top attractions, like the Frankenstein-inspired platform that rose from our level all the way up to the “attic”

where lightning would bring the creature to life. Or the talking gargoyle. Or the animated,
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mummified rock band.

All in all, the place was a feast of sight and sound. That made it fabulous as an attraction, but terrible for us.

As if to prove my point, a group of teenagers bustled in, their raucous laughter battling the ambient din of the place. A girl in the center of the crowd wore a bright pink shirt withSWEET

16 emblazoned on it.

From the noise of the group, I had a feeling it was going to be a heck of a party.

“We should get out of here,” I said.

“Wait.” Devlin put a hand on mine. “We’re here. Let’s see what we can learn. Just keep your eyes open.”

“Believe me, I will,” I said, then screamed at the top of my lungs when a hand closed on the top of my head.

“My, my, you are a live one,” said a doctor in a white lab coat. “Perhaps I could have the use of your

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brains for a little experiment?”

“Um, no,” I said, not really into the spirit of the thing at the moment.

He was going to argue—after all, that was his job—but our waiter came up then and the doctor disappeared into the dark.

“You look like two weary travelers come for a little excitement at the hand of the good doctor.

Can I

provide you some refreshment after your long journey?”

“Actually, we’re looking for information.”

“Ah, a man of learning you are.”

“Something like that,” Devlin said with a bemused look in my direction.

“It’s a scavenger hunt,” I said. “We think the last clue led us here, but we don’t know what we’re looking for. We’re thinking maybe someone left the next clue for us in the lost and found.”

“Ah, I’m afraid you’re out of luck, dear lady. All that’s in there is a pair of glasses and a pink sweater.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “What about a message. Maybe for someone named Devlin? Or Jennifer? Or Paul

Winslow?”

“A message, huh? That one, I don’t know. You want me to go check?” he asked, sliding out of character. I almost chastised him. This place was like a training ground for actors. He shouldn’t slip like that.

“That would be great,” Devlin said, but as the guy turned, Devlin stopped him with a curt,

“Wait. Do you always memorize the contents of your lost and founds?”

“Not hardly. But the girl was asking just a few minutes ago. You both playing the same game?”

I swear my blood turned to ice when he said that. “Is she still here?” I whispered. “Where is she?”

“The library,” he said, pointing up a floor. Devlin and I both turned and looked that direction, but we didn’t see a thing. “You want me to tell her you’re here?”

“No!” we said in unison, then Devlin added, “Just see about those messages, would you?”

“Sure thing,” the waiter said.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Devlin met my eyes, his hard and cold.

“She got here first,” I said. “How? She couldn’t be tracking us if she got here first.”

“The shot glass,” Devlin said. “She probably saw you drop it.”

I closed my eyes, cursing myself.

“It’s just as well she’s here,” he said, leaning over and reaching his arm under the table. When he
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came

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back up, I saw the flash of metal in his hand before he concealed the gun. “It’s time to end this thing.”

DEVLIN

“Devlin, no!”

He could hear the terror in her voice, but he wasn’t about to give in to it. “We have an advantage here, Jenn. I’m going to take it.”

“Damn it, Devlin, she might already know we’re here. What if she nails you?”

“Unless we can follow the clues to the end of this thing and stop the game, she’s going to nail me eventually. I’ve got a chance now. I’m taking it.”

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m just—God, what if she gets you first?”

“She won’t.” He slid out of the booth, then did a double-take when she followed him. “Stay here.”

“Like hell. I don’t have a gun. I’m sticking with you.”

He wanted to argue, but she was right. “Fine. But you doexactly what I say.”

“You’re the director.”

He headed across the aisle to the booth next to the Frankenstein lift. The birthday group had sat there, and now they egged on an actor clad in a lab coat, who had started fiddling with knobs between them and the lift. Another actor in a ratty coat with a hunchback was hobbling over to help. Probably time for a show to start, Devlin thought. Good. Maybe the distraction would give him some cover.

He kept the gun close at his side, out of view, and then started up the metal spiral staircase to the next level. Jenn was right at his heels, and they emerged into the shadows. He peered cautiously around, taking in the haunted-house decorations, complete with open coffins and tables topped with all variety of séance paraphernalia.

Jenn tapped lightly on his shoulder, and when he turned she pointed. He followed the line of her finger and his heart skipped a beat.Birdie. Right there, sipping on a drink, her hand resting lightly on a purse, and her eyes scanning the room.

He pushed Jennifer back into the shadows, essentially hiding them behind a vertical coffin with an animatronic corpse inside.

“Did she see us?” Jenn whispered.

“I don’t know. She’s waiting for something, though. She’s probably flirted with a waiter or the bartender. If she doesn’t already know we’re here, I bet someone’s going to be telling her soon.”