Page 5 of The Children of Eve (Charlie Parker #22)
CHAPTER V
The last of the spiders had returned to their webs, the insects to the gloom, and the statue of the Great Goddess lay in pieces on the floor of Antonio Elizalde’s store. Elizalde, too, was no more. His pain was over, his spirit departed. He had suffered at the end, but not as much, Seeley reflected, as he would have had cancer and the medical profession enjoyed their way with him. There was less blood than Seeley had anticipated, though he had decided to step away at the climax. By then, Elizalde had given up all he knew. What came after was pure punishment.
Seeley’s eye was drawn to the pack of Marlboros. He hadn’t smoked in years, but if he was ever going to start again, this would be the time. To avoid temptation, he crushed the pack in his gloved hand and disposed of it in the trash. It was time to leave, but first, Seeley went through the shelves of rare books and manuscripts in Elizalde’s office in case they contained anything worth rescuing. To his pleasure, if not entirely his surprise—Elizalde’s taste, unlike his judgment, had never been in doubt—Seeley discovered a volume of posthumously published poems by the seventeenth-century Mexican poet and nun Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, part of an edition of her complete works printed in Madrid in 1700, just five years after her death from plague. The original vellum binding was in desperately poor condition and the leather ties were missing, but Seeley could work with what remained. He even had a buyer in mind. Elizalde might have approved, had he still been in a position to do so. Seeley swaddled the volume in paper, followed by a couple of layers of bubble wrap. He then found a suitable box, laid the book inside, and sealed the folds with tape.
Seeley made a final check of his surroundings to determine that nothing obviously incriminating had been left behind. There was little he could do about stray skin and hair, but he wished the Mexican authorities luck with their investigation—should there ever be one, which he very much doubted. Seeley had already made a call about Elizalde’s body, and his employer would ensure that it was gone within the hour. As for the police, their attention would be drawn to the fact that Elizalde was a sick man, facing an agonizing struggle with illness. It may have been that his courage failed him, and he had taken himself off to die. In the unlikely event that they persisted with their inquiries, pressure would be applied. Seeley’s employer would not want anything to impede progress and had a way of encouraging obedience. But should Seeley encounter further resistance, other measures were available.
Briefly, Seeley regarded what was left of Elizalde, and the fragments of the Great Goddess, her subordinate position in the pantheon of deities now confirmed. Seeley reflected on the money he was being paid and decided it wasn’t enough to compensate a man for having his beliefs about life and the universe upended so spectacularly. Regrettably, it was too late to back out now, not unless he wanted to end up like Antonio Elizalde. Still, he was forced to admit to a particular curiosity about what was to come.
“Vámonos.”
Seeley couldn’t help but shiver. If dust could have spoken, it would have sounded thus. He hoped the current situation might be resolved quickly, leading his employer’s agent to return to wherever she’d come from. He also hoped he’d come out of it with his life, because he really didn’t want to die. Before he had taken this job, he had feared only the pain of death; now he was concerned about what might come after. He conceded the possibility that his employer might be so in name only, and he was in fact working for another, this other.
Which, Seeley decided, would be very unfortunate indeed.