The third day of his return to the world Cundo crossed the footbridge and sat down with Foley for a drink and to give him Dawn's notes on observing and dealing with ghosts. "So you can become the expert."
"You believe in them?" Foley said.
"You die," Cundo said, "your body is no more but your spirit is still alive, is alive forever. Okay, it heads off to the light, the one I saw when that fucking Joe LaBrava shot me three times. Or the spirit stays for a while or comes back to tell you something or fuck with you. You learn a ghost has no power over you unless you give it an advantage, show you're afraid of it."
Foley said, "You aren't spooked by the idea of ghosts in your house, even if there aren't?"
"Read this, you'll know more than I do."
"But you believe in ghosts?"
"You look for them you find them."
"How?"
"Read what Dawn says, you want to sound like you know what you talking about. Listen," Cundo said, "the white-power asshole went home-lives somewhere on the Westside, but say to tell you he's coming back to teach you a lesson, when he gets his cast off."
"Just one?"
"For the fracture of his arm. The other arm is tape to his body so he don't move his shoulder. He say his hand sticks out the front of his shirt, so he can hold a piece when he comes to see you."
"I'll be gone by then."
"What are you talking about?" Cundo sitting up straight and frowning, telling Foley, "You got a cool place to live, all those rooms with high ceilings done up the way Dawn wants them that don't cost you nothing. Man, we out of prison, now we have a good time. Make some money you feel better."
"I don't think this grift idea, shaking down some old lady, is the kind of work I want to do."
"You want to stick up a bank?"
"I haven't had a good feeling about it lately," Foley said, "like I'd jinxed myself and wouldn't be good at it anymore. But I got over it. I could do a bank this afternoon and take five grand, but I wouldn't get the same kick I used to. I want to do something I can throw myself into."
"Some kind of robbery."
"No, it can be legal."
"I give you a gun," Cundo said. "Zorro holds mine for me. Do a bank with a gun, uh, what do you think? It would give you a different feel. But you don't want to be caught with a gun, anybody has done serious time. Tha's why this grif' could be what you looking for. Take this hex woman for fifty-k, you and Dawn split it down the middle. You think you break the woman's heart? Listen, you show her she can be happy again taking a stud like you to bed. You turn it on, man, put on a good skit and make twenty-five-k, or more than that, easy."
Dawn, a new Dawn, came to visit this morning of Cundo's fourth day home, Dawn in tan warm-ups and tennis shoes and stood in his doorway smiling.
"I'm dying to know if you feel you have enough of a handle on ghosts to play the expert," the new Dawn turning to glance across the canal. "I know what you're going to ask. Why are ghosts always portrayed as spooky when in fact the attitudes they affect are the same ones they had when they were embodied? And with much the same personalities. Unless of course you show evidence of being afraid. That gives them an enormous advantage and they may try to spook you out, even if it's just for fun." She smiled again.
Foley said, "No hugs and kisses?"
Dawn didn't move. She said, "Jack," and took a quick glance across the canal as he brought her by the arm into the house and closed the door and now he was holding her and for a few moments they were at each other mouth to mouth like a couple of kids until she got her hands against his chest and Foley let go of her.
"We're alone. He can't see us, even if he's watching the house."
"You know what will happen"-Dawn shaking her head-"we start taking chances. Once we think we can get away with it we get caught." She said, "You read my notes?"
"Every word."
"How can you tell a ghost is in the house?"
"You're gonna quiz me?"
"I want to see how much you know."
"Well, as soon as I walk in the door," Foley said, "and a spirit is in the house, I'll feel its presence. I don't have to be told about things being moved around, books on the shelf upside down, or a familiar scent in the air, a fragrance, I'll know if a ghost is in the room. Or more than one."
"That's not bad. You've been practicing."
"I've been practicing the art of detection for close to twenty years, since I was first certified as an Advanced Paranormal Investigator."
"No, you've been practicing your esoteric art for twenty years. Pour me a drink, one shot of bourbon, that's all. I don't want to lose my inhibitions."
"I didn't know you had any."
"You're sweet. Just don't make up anything when you're talking to her. It might be different from what I've left with her. I told her yesterday I'd be talking to a paranormal investigator who specializes in ghost appearance. I'm hoping," Dawn said, "you'll feel expert enough to see her in a day or two."
He watched her, the new Dawn back in business, trying to sound like herself.
"Did he hurt you?"
"My tummy's bruised. It's purple." He touched her face. "Can I see it?" "Jack, I don't want to start, okay?"
He saw nothing in her eyes that told him how she felt and let his hand fall to her shoulder, feeling her arm inside the cotton jacket before his hand slipped off.
"I'm ready as I'll ever be," Foley said. "Danialle Tynan-she's still making movies?"
"She's only made a few. Left the screen to become Mrs. Dani-alle Karmanos, wife of Hollywood producer Peter Karmanos. Last year he made her only hit, Born Again, about the stripper who's struck by lightning and becomes a faith healer with a televised tent show. Lays her hands on the infirm, lifts her eyes to heaven, cries out, 'Lord, heal this poor child from stuttering.' The little girl looks up at Danialle and says, 'P-p-p-praise Jesus,' and the audience goes wild."
"I missed that one," Foley said. "What happens?"
"I didn't see it either," Dawn said. "I'll get us a DVD. She and Peter were married only a few years when he had a heart attack and died on the set of the sequel they were making, Born Again and Again. It left Danny a widow at thirty-five with a ton of money."
"That's all she is?" Foley said. "I thought she was older."
"She's starting to let herself go. She's depressed, looking for love in the prime of life and can't find it."
"Come on-she's loaded and doesn't have a boyfriend?"
"She can have all the guys she wants. That gypsy fraud told her Peter Karmanos has put a hex on her from the other side, and Danny believes it. What she can't find is true love. Whatever that is."
Foley said, "You told her she has ghosts in her house and she believes that too?"
"I added the ghosts to make it more interesting. Then when you came on the scene I thought, You're not only the ghost expert, you could turn out to be the true love." "She's only thirty-five?"
"When Peter died, eight months ago. Since then she's been feeling sorry for herself. She sits alone in dim rooms waiting for a sound or for something to move. A rocking chair starts to rock. A door slams closed."
"She sees weird things going on?"
"Or imagines she does. Otherwise, she's intelligent, she's aware."
"You're saying there might be ghosts in her house?"
"That's what we're going to find out. Either way," Dawn said, "whether we discover ghosts or not, you'll make a show of getting rid of them."
Foley said, "You're up on all this ritual stuff-why don't you do it, and send her a bill?"
"Because the big part of this is the true-love thing. That's you, Jack. All you have to do is get her to fall in love with you and we're good for a hundred grand."
"Cundo said maybe fifty."
"He doesn't know Danialle. I'm counting on love at first sight, the way it happened to me." "You were horny."