The elevator deposited the would-be lovers at the top floor and Thommie worked the lock open with nervous fingers. He kept talking nonstop. “Vic…Vicki was a tender guy and a great, great lay, and we respected each other tremendously, like I told the cops, but like I said, we just grew a little apart… you know… shit happens…”
“ Grew a little apart,” Emanuel repeated, nodding. “Sure, I understand. Don't worry about it, Thommie Marie.”
As soon as the door closed behind them, Thommie Whiley, a.k.a. Marie Dumond, was at him again, forcing him against the door, kissing and caressing, his tongue finding Emanuel's deep throat, jabbing in and out, enjoying E's intoxicating, provocative perfume. E knew how to give what he got, and he smelled so damned good.
“ Wait… easy… back off and let me get situated and dressed for you, Marie… and Marie, get out of that dress…” He spoke through gasps and kisses.
“ Sorry…just so… I don't know… turned on by you. What's that perfume you're wearing? God, you're good-looking, you know that?”
“ Thank you; now, I'll see you in a moment. Why don't you get undressed and pull the covers down, huh? Got anything to drink? Why don't you pour us something to drink?”
“ Coming right up. Bathroom's that-a-way.”
Thommie Whiley impatiently and breathlessly waited, going naked about the room, pacing and moving several times from the bed to the bathroom door, almost knocking, speaking through the door, asking if everything was all right inside, wondering how long E was going to take and just what he had to do to freshen up. He'd never known a guy with so much cool and restraint before.
“ Everything all right in there, Ms. E? Am I going to have to come in after you? Spank your behind? Can I call you EZ?”
“ Just a minute,” Emanuel repeated in his most feminine voice for an insufferable third time.
When he finally came out, E was stunning with long, smooth legs and an incredible shape, dark, alluring eyes and sensuous mouth, filling out the little teddy like a pro on the runway at the Blue Heron, Thommie thought as he went for him, or rather her, Thommie's hands outstretched, the drinks he'd poured earlier forgotten, the ice in them melted.
“ Wait,” she said, “my bag… bring me my bag.”
God damnit, he silently cursed, but with a little frown of impatience, he glanced around and then retrieved her bag, a large, leather Gucci. “Jeeze, whataya gol in this thing? It must weigh a ton.”
“ The icing on the cake,” Emanuel replied in a soft, purring whisper as she now pulled forth first a vibrator to his delight, allowing him to take charge of this, and then she pulled forth an enormous carving knife with serrated edges, the blade glinting in the half light of the room.
“ What the hell's that for?”
“ Like I said, hon, I'm after your heart.”
“ What the fuck's that supposed to-”
''Ayyyyyyyyyyyl'' Emanuel screamed and lunged at him with the blade, but Thommie dodged the blow, lunging for the floor beside the bed where he tore from below the bed a baseball bat which he'd kept there forever for protection.
He brought the bat to bear, but he was twisted round in such an awkward position that he couldn't negotiate it properly, unable to get his weight behind it. With the swing, however, he lost his footing, and E was rushing at him a second time with that damnably huge knife, trying to find his chest and his heart, and all in that one instant, Thommie realized that Surette had been butchered by this motherfucking fiend who claimed to be Victor's brother, and that this monster had also killed and mutilated all the other Queen of Hearts victims, so Thommie put what force he could into a backswing blow from a kneeling position, lashed out at the raging madman's hairless legs, but E just kept coming, and suddenly Thommie felt a sharp pain to his temple, the bone crack sound reverberating in his brain, and next Thommie felt something sharp penetrate the skin beside his ear and sink almost to his left eyeball before he passed out.
When Thommie came to, he was lying on his back in bed, where E had placed him, blood caked at his temple; he was disoriented and seeing through a thick blur, the sound of his own blood and pounding heart in his ears, threatening to send him into deafness so loud was the sound of it along with a sentient ringing noise, as if his own internal alarm clocks were all going off at once. When his eyes fully opened and focused, he realized that Emanuel's red teddy and enormous, blood-smeared breasts were dangling pendulum fashion over him, and E's curly head worked back and forth, her hands doing something up and down along a slippery path.
Christ, atop every other indignity, he really is a she.
Thommie's eyes coming clearer now, he saw E reach into an enormous cavern that'd opened up in Thommie's chest, and he felt the other's hands tugging at his beating heart when Thommie suddenly saw only a blinding white light which he allowed himself to fall into; it was not a natural light but a light that blinded both his vision and his feelings, like a shower of mercy and Thommie gratefully retreated into it. All life was severed with the connections between his heart and body and Thommie stepped into a never-ending sleep.
17
The world stands out on either side No wider than the heart is wide; Above the world is stretched the sky- No higher than the soul is high. The heart can push the sea and land Farther away on either hand; The soul can split the sky in two. And let the face of God shine through. But East and West will pinch the heart That cannot keep them pushed apart; And he whose soul is flat-the sky Will cave in on him by and by.
IAD had advised Alex to remain home until the incident at Tully's was officially declared a righteous bust, and that he was cleared of any wrongdoing in the discharge of his weapon. Still, he reasoned that since no one was so much as grazed by a bullet, and since he'd wounded only a trash can on firing in the line of duty, Sincebaugh took them at their word: Advised meant advised.
He had too damned much to do at headquarters to slack off now, and so at precisely three P.M. the next day, the beginning of his new rotation, he was standing in the middle of the squad room with all eyes upon him. From the cold stares, he knew something was up.
Dr. Jessica Coran had no doubt filled the captain's ear with a lot of technical forensics jargon that he'd need to catch up on, to see what he could learn from her about yesterday's vie. He was anxious to look at Coran's reports on the latest heartless corpse, believed to be the latest victim of the maniac he'd been pursuing since June, hoping she could provide more than Wardlaw had in the past.
He immediately sought out Ben and found him at the coffee machine, where he was on his second caffeine hit and finishing up a Snickers bar.
“ Hey, Alex, how's it hanging? You all right after last night?”
“ Couldn't be better; actually slept. Now where's the goddamned coroner's report on the body fished out at the Toulouse Wharf, which was going to be on my desk when I got in this morning-and I quote?”
“ Complications at the coroner's is all. Slow up, pal, will you?” Ben was sleepy, unaccustomed as he was to the new rotation.
“ What's that supposed to mean?”
“ You ain't heard yet?”
“ Goddamn it, Big, heard what?”
“ They're not so sure anymore that the Gretna vie is one of the Queen of Hearts killings. I thought you were told by now, that Landry would've informed you.”
Sincebaugh recalled the victim. “So what're you saying, Ben? That yesterday's victim wasn't number five?”
“ Not if they're right. If they're right, the Toulouse body's really number five since Gretna was a copycat job.”
“ What're they going on, Ben?”
“ A little of everything, I think. Either way, should make you happy. This means they're going over everything with a fine-tooth comb, going over every word you and me put to paper, and-”