“Oh, I think I remember now. Politician wasn’t he? Yes, you’d be surprised how many of our leading citizens come down here for fun and games. Councilman, was he?”
“No, you’re thinking of someone else. This Zero was no one like that.”
“You’re sure? I seem to remember one of the mayor’s aides. Had a fetish for lacey underthings and hot water bottles, I believe.”
“No, that’s not him.”
Gulliver shrugged. “Sorry, love. Wish I could help.”
Eddy fell into a somber mood. Maybe this was all just some insane quest and he was every bit as crazy as the doctors claimed. He’d done some things in his time. Brutal, vicious things. But until Cassandra, he’d never killed anyone.
“What did you think of that murder, Eddy? Nasty stuff, eh?”
Nasty? Yes, he supposed it was. To someone who didn’t understand. “I guess.”
“Cut the poor girl up like meat, I hear. No blood left in the body. Fucking vampire on the loose.” Gulliver took a good belt from his Beefeater and tonic. “Not that it surprises me. The types we get down here… though blood’s not usually what they want to suck.”
Eddy smiled.
“But we were talking about this Zero character. Why are you after him?”
“He was my dad. He disappeared in this town a long time ago.”
“Too bad. A boy needs his dad. Not that mine has any use for me anymore.” Gulliver was laughing. “Did I tell you my old man’s a minister, too? Very straight-laced. That was my problem. I didn’t like it straight. Not that I mind lace…”
“I don’t suppose I’ll find him.”
“Don’t give up hope,” Gulliver said, putting an arm around him. “There’s always hope.”
“Sure.”
“If you want to find him, you have to do what the cops do, love. You have to become him. You have to think like he does and act like him and then you’ll know where he went and why. Simple.”
Eddy leered at him, his eyes terribly dark and vacant.
Gulliver removed his arm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by that. Just a friendly gesture.”
Eddy grinned and slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “And would I be here if such things bothered me?”
Gulliver shrugged, sipping his drink. It was amateur night and a couple of transsexuals were up on stage doing a B & D version of Romeo and Juliet, switching genders and roles at the drop of a hat. It was all quite amusing, if not somewhat confusing.
“About your father. What did he do to get in the newspapers?”
“Killed a few people.”
“Terrible. Just killed them?”
“The citizens in general found the way he did it quite shocking.”
Gulliver smiled. He wasn’t sure if he liked this Eddy or not. “I know a guy who’s into shit like that. An acquaintance, really. Strange boy. Maybe he could help you out.”
“When could I meet him? It would be worth a try.”
Gulliver checked his watch. “Sun should be set by now. He’ll be up. We could go over there now, if you like.”
“Let’s, then.”
Gulliver finished his drink and off they went.
They walked for some blocks, hand in hand. Eddy insisted upon it. Normally, Gulliver would’ve been intoxicated at the idea of escorting around a handsome young thing like Eddy. But that wasn’t the case now. Despite his mysterious, dark boyish looks and lithe body, Eddy was somehow menacing. There was an aura of dread about him, a quiet and lethal desperation.
They traveled down deserted avenues, avoiding crazed homeless people who threw bottles at them and shrieked. They could hear sobs and moans and curses from the darkness around them. A pregnant whore offered them a good time. Faces leered from doorways. People injected drugs on stoops and stairways. They stepped around a man who was pissing on the sidewalk.
“When we get there, you’re on your own,” Gulliver said. “I like you and all, but this guy—Spider, they call him—is one weird freak. He’s spooky.”
“Just show me the way.” Eddy seemed anxious.
Gulliver wanted to tell him to be careful around Spider, but he was beginning to think they were two of kind. He didn’t like the idea.
They went into an alley and Gulliver stopped before a peeling door festooned with graffiti. “This is it,” he said, knocking lightly on the door. He tried the latch and it was open.
“The lair of the spider, eh?” Eddy cackled.
Gulliver tried to smile. Too bad. Eddy was so attractive. His long dark hair and fine, almost feminine features. Lovely. His skin was flawless, his lips full. With the mirrored sunglasses, motorcycle jacket, and baggy black jeans he was indeed an object of mystery and desire in Gulliver’s eyes.
“Eddy,” Gulliver said. “This Spider… he’s crazy. I think he might be dangerous.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Ssshhh,” Eddy told him. “It’s all right.”
“But…”
“You’re trembling.”
Gulliver knew he was. He felt a terrible, uncanny cabalism taking shape around him, a diabolic chemistry as if bringing together Spider and Eddy in this city was like bringing together the ingredients of a high explosive near flame. Eddy held his hands. Gulliver felt himself calming by the inch, practically swooning, as he felt Eddy’s long, almost feminine fingers in his own. So perfect, so tapering, the skin so smooth.
Eddy went in and Gulliver closed the door behind him, shaking again. Then he got the hell out of there before some explosion ripped open the guts of the neighborhood.
Eddy found himself in a dark corridor studded with doorways. He could hear movement somewhere, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. Then he heard a voice.
“The pain,” it said. “Oh, God, the pain…”
Eddy followed the sound of the voice down the corridor and into a room. A single naked bulb was suspended from the ceiling. There were candles everywhere, but only a few were lit. There was a sagging bed shoved in the corner and debris everywhere. Books were stacked on the floor. A thin man wearing a dark, dingy overcoat with no shirt beneath was crouched on his knees. His hair was long, separated into a variety of braids. He wore rings, bracelets, and all manner of beads around his throat.
Eddy stood before him. “Gulliver sent me,” he said, hoping that would explain all.
The man looked up at him. Blood ran from the corners of his mouth. His torso was crowded with tattoos. He held a razor in one hand and as Eddy watched he cut a slit in his gums and spat blood onto the floor.
“Are you Spider?” Eddy inquired. “Gulliver said you’d be here.”
“Who the fuck’s Gulliver?” the man insisted. He was apparently trying to work loose one of his teeth. “I don’t know any Gulliver.”
Eddy said, “Gulliver. I met him at Maxie’s.”
“Oh, that one. And what are you, one of his fags?”
“No, I’m just someone looking for information.”
“There’s none to be had.” He began to cackle and finally cough more blood. “People like you are always looking for something. What are you? A cop? Are you undercover or are you just another faggot?”
“Are you Spider or not?”
“Yes. Do you have any drugs, fag? Something for the pain?”
“No, nothing.” He’d given the last of his coke to Cassandra. He supposed it was sort of a going away present.
“Shit. What good are you?”
“I came for answers.”
“So? What do I look like? A fucking librarian?”
“Gulliver said you knew things. That you could help me.”
Spider shook his head. “I don’t know anything. Who are you?”
“Eddy.”
“Eddy? I thought you faggots preferred more colorful names?”