They all listened to Haifan’s account, forks frozen at various places between mouth and plate.
“I had brought a handful of long nails. That was to make sure, because his Significant Name was Myzzt. The first went in with one blow.”
Edda gave a shuddering sigh.
“Before he could wake up, I quickly hammered in a second, third, fourth, and fifth nail. Some brain spattered, but not much. The nails went in all the way, and when I put in a new one, a little brain came out the other holes. Then I hammered only halfway and moved the nail heads in circles, to tear the brains up more. He began to jerk his arms and legs. I was afraid Phyllis might wake up, so I started on her, not waiting for Ian to finish. I put a pillow over her face and my left knee on her neck. Holding her head in place with my thighs, I pressed the pillow into her face. She fought, scratching my left leg. It hurt, but I pressed with all my strength. The pale breast outside her nightgown jumped in every direction. Finally she weakened, and the twitching started. Meanwhile Ian fell out of bed and was trying to crawl, but his arms and legs didn’t work together. He made a little noise. It wasn’t until Phyllis stopped completely that I could get to him again. I hammered the other nails in the back of his head, at the base. That did the trick. He stopped scraping, only shook off and on. I sat down on a chair in their room and waited more than an hour, to make sure they got cold. They did.” He nodded. “I put Phyllis’s breast back in her shirt, so she would look neater. Then I cleaned my hands and the hammer in their bathroom. I thought to put Ian in bed beside his wife, but he was heavy and spattered with brain, and I didn’t want to get dirtier than I had to.”
“His Name was Yacrod, not Myzzt,” Edda said, breaking the silence.
“Yacrod?” Haifan was surprised. “Then the nails were unnecessary. I had a good knife. It would have worked just as well.”
Yacrod meant: “From sleeping.”
“Haifan, and your son?” asked Ra Mahleiné.
“The fratricide? I knew that this night was to be the cleansing of Davabel, so I had to deal with him also. Unfortunately he woke when I began to tie him, and he struggled. But the Spirit of Sleep didn’t let you hear it, because my cause was just. I tied his hands and feet and put his head in a bucket of water, because he was a Flued. He didn’t even kick that much. Then he got properly cold and stiff. I fell asleep just as the sun came up, the first sleep I had in a long time. I’ve told you all this, leaving nothing out, because the spirits required it. Davabel is now purified. Do you know the number of the police station, Dave?” he asked, lifting the receiver.
“Four nines,” Edda said.
Haifan calmly reported the triple murder to a dumbfounded official, then ate his portion of pasta with great appetite, not bothered by the fact that the tomato sauce had congealed.
“Edda, bring the pizza quickly, before they come. The interrogation will take a long time, I’m sure, so I’ll need my strength to tell them everything.”
The police sirens started just as he finished his pizza. Edda went and opened the door. Haifan got up, identified himself, and asked that handcuffs be put on him. The policeman in front just blinked.
But they put the cuffs on Haifan after they found the mess and bodies in the Hannings’ apartment and then Tad’s bedroom. A plainclothes detective asked the preliminary questions. The man’s name was Bharr Tobiany. He was over six feet tall and massive.
His children must be clumsy hulks, Gavein thought. Even if Mrs. Tobiany is small and energetic, the father’s genes can’t be ignored.
In charge of the investigation, Tobiany sat at the table behind a cold pizza tray that had only one piece missing. The bodies were carried out. Then the policemen left. Tobiany asked the tenants not to go anywhere. The Hanning and Tonescu apartments were sealed.
When the last police car drove off, it became as quiet as it had been while Haifan was telling them about the spirits that moved the world. Edda’s eyes never left Gavein.
“I’ll make everyone some bitter tea,” said Ra Mahleiné.
“I’ll help you,” said Helga.
Edda bored through Gavein with her eyes.
Zef turned on the television. It was an old film starring Lola Low.
“Thin as a toothpick,” he said. “She has more voom now.”
“More voom and fewer clothes,” Gavein remarked.
The telephone clattered. It was Wilcox. He knew that at this hour Gavein would be sitting in Edda’s dining room. He had taken a book home with him, unable to stop reading it. He asked for two days off, Monday and Tuesday, so he could finish it. Gavein said yes. He was surprised by Wilcox’s request. The man could easily have hidden himself behind the pigeonhole desk during work hours.
“We should move,” Ra Mahleiné said when they were in bed. “Edda looks at you as if you were the murderer of those three. I felt like giving her hair a yank.”
He put an arm around her. She snuggled like a kitten.
“Next month, you’re going to the hospital,” he said. “The waiting list for whites is long, but I managed to get a place for you on the one for grays. That, and better treatment. As of a wife written into a passport.”
“And then we’ll look for another place.”
31
The interrogation, though overseen by Tobiany, came to no satisfactory conclusion. Haifan succeeded in opening the veins of his wrist with the sharp edge of a spoon. The guard, instead of collecting the eating utensils from the prisoners after the meal, had fallen asleep in front of the TV and didn’t wake until three in the morning, which gave Haifan enough time. They had kept him in isolation, unobserved, though his Significant Name—Sulled—clearly pointed to what could happen.
Wilcox did not part with his book, which had a stamped cover that resembled a mosaic. The title seemed assembled with colored stones: Nest of Worlds. He carried it with him everywhere. The book was falling apart; it had been read by so many. He still had not got beyond the first chapter.
Gavein asked to see the beginning—to see what the book was about—but Wilcox refused.
The man stopped taking care of himself. He would sit until late in the bookstore, poring over the first few pages, then come in around noon the next day, saying that he had been reading.
“It would be nice to read something that absorbing,” Ra Mahleiné remarked when Gavein told her about Wilcox. “The TV commercials are turning my brains to mush. Yesterday, when you were at the bookstore, they showed an old movie with Maslynnaya. Her striptease was interrupted three times by ads. Potato chips, corn flakes. It’s such garbage. In Lavath they had more respect for the television viewer.”