The Land Across

14 FINDING ROSALEE

When she hung up, she smiled. “They blame me, as is only nature. I have show them nothing could be more useful for us.”

I was thoughtful all the way back inside the prison and into the warden’s office.

By that time she was sitting behind her desk again, writing something. Naala sat down without being asked, so I did, too. We did not talk, just waited until the warden stopped writing and looked around. “I do not recall that I wished to speak to you.”

Naala said, “Clearly because you had nothing to tell us and nothing to ask us. With us it is otherwise. We have things to tell and ask. I have an office myself. It is in our Central Building. Perhaps you are aware of our Central Building?”

The warden just looked at her.

“With a few words I could have you brought to me there. When we were finished, perhaps you would return here. I cannot say.”

The warden had no answer.

Naala gave her plenty of time before she said, “Let us first be clear. The Rathaus woman was in my custody all day yesterday. She does not escape. She is return to your custody in the evening. She escapes in the night. Now you compose a report about this? So I think. A press of the button will submit this report, but you may wish to revise it before you send.”

“The question, operator, is whether there is reason to revise.” The warden sounded scared.

“A question you must answer. For your assistance I tell you this. We of the JAKA are happy with what we have achieved.”

“Achieved? I wish to laugh, though an escape is not a thing to laugh at.”

“When I return the Rathaus woman to your custody, she is in a dress I buy for her, a dress of red and white. Why do you not require her to resume the gray uniform of those in your custody?”

“We did!” The warden jumped up. “Your dress we tear from her back! You have keep the uniform she wore! We are forced to supply another!”

“It fit her well, I hope.” Naala was smiling. “This is in your report? The new uniform?”

“Yes!”

“That is good. Already two men and two women visit dress shops. Before the shops close they will have visited every shop in the city that sells such clothes. They ask about a man who come to buy for a slender woman, or a woman as it may be who buys clothes she does not try on, clothes too small. This may be fruitful. You have find how she passes over the wire?”

The warden shook her head.

“She has not. So it may be. She has gone out a gate. You have very many?”

“Only one, operator.”

Naala jumped up. “You lie to me! For this alone—” She stopped and laughed, and I about fell off my chair. “You will pay, warden.” Naala was finished laughing. “Never think you will not. How much you pay, I do not know.”

“Please, operator…”

Naala sat again. “It is too late for ‘please’ and you are a fool. The gate in front is narrow and well guarded. Yesterday I go to the place where the Rathaus women work. They make uniforms, and there is a wagon and a truck, a wagon to bring more cloth, more thread. I see the boxes on it. Also the army truck. It will be to take away the uniforms, I think. These must come in here, and go out, too. So a wider gate there must be.”

The warden hated doing it, but she nodded.

“How did the Rathaus woman escape? You do not know. No more do I, but I will guess. It is not single shifts that work making army clothes. No. Your prisoners tell me this. When the day workers stop the work, the night workers begin it. In this way the machines are keep busy. The Rathaus woman know boxes will be loaded on the army truck. Those who will load them are her friends. They will make a small space for her among the boxes. The truck must go slowly along the city streets. She move the boxes and jump off. This I cannot prove. Not yet.”

Naala paused for another smile. “When her we catch, she will tell us.”

After we got out of there I thought Naala would call for another police car, but we walked. “You will have the big questions for me,” she said.

I told her she was dead on about that.

“We must think and think, you and I. We will find a café. There will be coffee for us. Rolls also if you wish them. You will have questions for me, and I a task for you. Are you to be trusted?”

Of course I said I was.

“I think yes and that is well. What do you think of Papa Iason? Is he, too, to be trusted?”

I said he had not told us everything.

“Not by us. No. By his father.”

“You mean Russ. The other one’s dead.”

“Yes, by Rathaus, his true father. He can trust him, do you think?”

“I’ll have to think that one over,” I said.

Naala gave me the mean grin. “This you must do as we walk, Grafton. When we are seated, you must tell me. Not yes only, or no. Explain.”

There were plenty of cafés as soon as we got into a better part of town. Naala liked the fifth one (I think it was) and we sat down at an outside table with a shiny pink umbrella. I asked if she wanted my answer.

She smiled. “You are sure of it?”

“Stone certain. First, Papa Iason is religious. Not just because he’s a priest but because he never once griped about it. So religious, and the Bible says to honor your father and mother. So I say, yes, if he knows Russ is his real father, Russ could trust him.”

“Does he know? What is it you think?”

“We haven’t got any way to tell.”

“Then we must guess. He looks at the picture of Rathaus and says it is an ordinary face. Possibly you recall this?”

“But it meant something to him. I could see that.”

“Three years ago Rathaus comes here. This the shopman tells. Why?”

I said, “Beats me.”

“You are familiar with our identity cards?”

“No. I’ve never had one.”

“There is on each card the date of issuance. This is for my JAKA and the police. If a woman has held her card twenty years, her face will have changed in certain ways. A man the same. Information is like bread. If it is not eaten it grow stale. So we must know. Papa’s card is of three years.”

“O-o-o-kay.” I was trying to think what it might mean.

“Does his son get a new card because he comes?”

“I don’t see why he would.”

“He does not. He get a new card because he is become a priest. He is ordained. For a priest, this is a great, great thing. His father learn of it, I think. How I do not know, but there may be many ways. Perhaps the mother tell him. Perhaps Papa Iason himself tell, or someone at the seminary. It does not matter. He learns, and comes to see his son ordained. He will shake his hand and give him some money it may be. He does not tell, the mother does not tell, Papa does not tell. He is a friend from the old years, they say. Or the son of the mother’s aunt who is dead. Whatever. But they know. Rathaus knows, the mother knows, and Papa Iason knows. Those three are sure. If you do not agree, I do not care. I too am sure.” Naala sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of her cup.

I told her, “I’m not as sure as you are, but you’re probably right.”

“This I think. There is a cult, the Unholy Way. They make dark magic. Rumors have reach the JAKA long ago, and yesterday the archbishop tells us.”

I nodded.

“Rathaus makes the magic dolls. They have taken him. You agree?”

I shook my head.

“This the JAKA think. You do not. Tell me why.”

“Russ was a pretty good guy. He didn’t always tell me the truth, but mostly he did. When he didn’t, he didn’t lie outright, generally. He talked like he had never been here until he and Rosalee came. But he didn’t actually say that, he just let me think it. That’s one thing.”

Naala nodded. “Speak more.”

“If the cult could just go in that prison and take people out, they would have taken a lot of them. That’s how it seems to me. There were some really bad guys in there, so why not? Only they haven’t, or it would have been all over in there. Everybody would talk about it, about all the escapes, and how somebody did and what it meant for the rest of us. It wasn’t like that at all. When Russ went missing there was a lot of fuss and I got shopped to the JAKA.”

Naala nodded. “We may be right. I think so. Here for you is another question. They have who that we know? Name this person.”

“That’s easy, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Martya. They had her, but she stole their hand and got away. She brought it to a priest because she thought he’d be the right guy to destroy it. By this time the cult may have killed her. I just hope they can’t find her.”

“In what you say now you are entirely wrong, I think. She serve them. What is it the hand try to do last night?”

“It tried to kill you, and it almost did. Only you said it was a whole woman. I know it wasn’t, that it was really the hand, but I didn’t think you knew that. What wised you up?”

“Reason.” Naala chuckled. “Two great teachers we have, of which reason is one. We are both right. I see the long hair, the little face, you see only her hand. You would lie to me, I think, but not about such a thing as this. Also when we search, we find no woman. She cannot have slip away.”

I nodded. “The door and all the windows were locked from inside.”

“Just so. I am of the JAKA and am known to be so. You understand? This I hope. Also my apartment is on the lowest floor. This for me is nice, I do not have to climb the steps. Everyone want the lowest floor. But perhaps someone wish to slide the blade into my throat, so I have good locks. Alarms also. The locks are locked, the alarms silent….” Naala fell silent herself.

“So you knew it was really just the hand.”

She shook her head. “It is both. The hand is a hand. It is solid. I have pick it up. You also. The woman is a soul by God condemned, a bad ghost.”

“I can’t see that,” I said.

“You have the eyes.”

That one stopped me dead. I sipped my coffee, which was thick with honey, hot, and black. Finally I said, “The hand doesn’t. That’s what you mean. Only it seems like it sees.”

“Also thinks, without a brain. It hide so well we do not find it. Could this young woman I see hide from us in my apartment? No, this is absurd to think. The hand is wise. It find a place we do not think of, we the so clever ones. Yesterday we see the old man work his magic. His hands are oh, so clever because his brain think for them. Who think for that hand?”

“I’m an American,” I told her. “We don’t believe in ghosts.”

“You are not there.” She gave me the mean grin. “You do not ask me big questions. This you promised.”

I looked away, seeing the empty, dusty street and the shabby buildings, each in its cheerful rectangle of trees. I wanted it to be America, and all these wine bottles and bright umbrellas wanted it to be Paris. But it was about as far from America and Paris as you could get. I said, “Russ had that dummy that looked like him. Where’d he get it?”

“That is not a big question. He is helped in his escape. My friends at the JAKA think by the cult. You think by those who buy his dolls, and this may be correct. If we find him, we may learn. Ask another question.”

“All right, here’s a big one. Why is it important that Russ could trust Papa Iason?”

“If Rathaus can trust him, he have no reason to wish him no more. The hand snatch away life. It has try to snatch mine. A priest it would hate, I think, but your Martya bring it to a priest and leave it with him. Now you see?”

I shook my head.

“Does she wish him dead? This I do not credit. She is of Puraustays. It is not to be believed that she knows him. You have kiss her and share her bed. Does she have such a hand?”

“Absolutely not,” I said.

“She serves, I think. It is her master who wish the priest dead. Ah, you say, Rathaus. But the priest is his son. Even a bad man loves his son. So it often is, even if not always. Also this son is to be trusted. Why kill him? Why in such a fashion? There is no reason.”

“But whoever sent Martya must have had a reason.”

Naala nodded. “I offer one where I might offer many. The priest is Rathaus’s son and can be trusted by him. The first reason tell me, and the second I am told by you. This bad master think like me, so I think. He think around corners. You see? He cannot kill Rathaus, perhaps because he cannot find him. Very well, he will kill the son. In this fashion he rob Rathaus of an ally, also give him much sorrow. Both, he think, will be good.”

I thought, too. “You’re saying that Martya gave Papa the hand so it would kill him, but it didn’t.”

Naala nodded.

“Well, why didn’t it? Why didn’t it work?”

“We cannot know, only hope to find out. I will guess now, and quickly. But it is a guess merely. It try to choke me, yes?”

It was my turn to nod. “Right. It did.”

“You grasp it with both hands and tear it away. The priest does the same. He is a man, young and large. He will be stronger than I, perhaps as strong as you. He catch it and lock it away, who know where? It could be many places. In the morning he take it to the archbishop, who keep it where?”

“In that box he gave us.”

“No. In a drawer of his desk, a drawer he unlock with a key. He tell us Papa Iason offer to destroy it if he wish. The archbishop thank him but refuse. He will give it to us, to the JAKA. Perhaps he does not believe what Papa tell him. He does, I think, but knows we will not believe.”

“You think the cult wants Russ dead. Why would they?”

Naala sighed. “This is not hard to guess. He make the dolls and sell them. They are magic, or so many think. With them is sold a book of spells. To them he is a rival. In prison he cannot do this, so let him rot there. Now he gets out, so he must die.”

“You want me to work on it.”

Naala sipped more coffee. “It is a test for you. If you are wise, if you are to be trusted and have courage, we make great use of you, here and in Amerika. This I will judge as time passes.”

I told her, “I’ve lived all over, but I’m an American. I won’t betray my country.”

She smiled. “I do not ask for that. We do not seek the destruction of Amerika, which you yourselves have too much destroyed already. We can make use of you in many other ways, and this we will do.”

You know what I was thinking. I would get back to the States and tell the JAKA to kiss off. Naturally I did not say that. Instead I asked what she wanted me to do.

“First, you have hear me tell of the operators who visit dress shops.”

“Sure.”

“I wish you, also, to visit those shops. You I give a different question. Who comes and asks such questions but has not the JAKA badge? How does this one appear? What does he say and do?”

That one took me a little time. I watched Naala sip coffee and saw how her eyes sparkled, but it did not make me any smarter.

“You do not understand.”

“You’re right,” I said. “What’s going on here?”

“Who is it who gets credit for closing a case? I know but ask even so. Who is it?”

“Whoever solves it, I suppose. If it’s not that, I don’t know.”

“Those who ask at the dress shops now are not me. To someone they make the reports, but he is not me.” Here I got the mean grin again. “You are mine.”

“O-o-okay.”

“Let us look back. The Rathaus woman escape. It seem to me there are three ways. First, it may be that Rathaus help her.”

I nodded.

“That is what I hope when we begin. In the prison for women I ask and ask, but I see no tracks of Rathaus. Now I hope you understand. Does she have help? What is it this help do? There is nothing.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Second, the cult who pull strings of Martya. They wish Rathaus dead, I think. If no, why send her with the hand to Papa Iason? I see no tracks of them, no more than Rathaus. All I learn, the Rathaus woman could have done alone. This I think she did.”

I probably scratched my head.

“We take her out, buy for her the dress and good food. She have hope. We take her back and all hope is gone. You understand how she feel, I think.”

“Then she’s outside, but without friends or money. Hell, she’s only a kid.” Just thinking about it made me feel sick.

“She has no money, but friends she has. These are you and I. If Rathaus knows she has escaped, perhaps he seeks to find her. If those of the cult know also, they too will seek her, perhaps to kill, perhaps for bait. Let us find out who seeks if either does. For this I send you.”

“If it can be found out, I’ll find it,” I told her.

Naala put down her cup. “Now a second task. Go to the priest. You are Martya’s friend?”

“Yes,” I said. “I want to help her. If the cult’s got her I want to get her away from them.”

“Good. Tell him the truth. When the truth will serve, it is better than a thousand lies. Find out from the priest what he did not tell us, all that she says to him when she brings the hand. Has he see her before or since that time? What of the housekeeper? What did your Martya tell her? Find the shawl she wrap the hand in. Examine it closely. Bring it to me if this is possible.”

“All right,” I said. “Where will you be?”

“In my apartment. If you knock and none answer…”

“I’ll wait,” I said. “Outside, under the trees.”

Naala shook her head. “Go to the police. Tell them I am perhaps dead.”

You can guess the questions I asked her after that. I am not going to give them here because she would not answer any of them. After four or five, she told me to start with the dress shops and get going.

I had said that about Rosalee having no money and no friends, and now that was me. Or at least that was how I felt then. I did not have a single euro. Naala had been my friend and pretty close to being my girlfriend, even if she was twice my age. Heck, I had scored with her. Now she had sent me off on what she figured was a really safe errand while she did the dangerous stuff.

I would have hidden and tried to follow her if I had thought I could get away with it. Only I knew I could not. She was an operator and had been one for ten or fifteen years minimum. She would have forgotten more about tailing somebody than I knew. On top of that, there was a good chance she would call a police car as soon as she finished her coffee. What was I supposed to do? Jump in a cab and say, “Follow that car?” There were not any cabs and I did not have any money.

So I went to dress shops instead. At first it was pretty tough for me to find them because I could not read the signs, but I looked in the windows and pretty soon I started recognizing certain words that were in the signs of a lot of the shops. My guess is that one meant “dresses” and one meant “women,” but I still do not know what is which.

The first two were duds. Maybe they knew something, but if they did they were not telling me. By the third I had sort of put together my story, which was that my sister’s bags had been stolen and my mom and dad were out trying to get clothes she would like, only I had bought her some so she could go out and choose her own. That got me some cooperation, especially when I said what a nice shop this was and I would bring her here. The truth is a great tool if you can use it, but I could not. If I went around saying the JAKA had sent me, which was the truth, they would want to see some ID. I did not have any, so they might call the cops.

Pretty soon somebody described a woman who had been in there, only she had not bought anything. She had only described a man and asked if he had been in. I would give the number of that one if I remembered it, but I had lost count by then. It could have been six or seven, or even eight. I got a pretty good description of the woman and said she sounded a lot like my mom, but she was too young. The lady said maybe it was my sister only she did not sound American, and I said if she talked pretty good it could not have been.

Finally I went into a shop and had that feeling. You know how it is? You go someplace you would swear you had never seen before, only there’s something familiar about it. I was already talking to a lady when it snapped into place for me. It was the shop where Naala had bought the red-and-white-checked dress for Rosalee. Then the lady, who seemed pretty nervous, said she had to talk to another lady before she told me anything, and I had to stay up front while she did it.

You can bet the rent I did not. I let her get a couple of steps ahead of me and edged along behind her. The shop ended with a metal door and I figured there was an office or something back there, but I was dead wrong. She opened it, and I could see into an alley. Then she closed it, and I figured she had gone for the cops and I had better get out of there. I turned around and took a step, and one of the mannequins grabbed me by the shoulder. I about jumped out of my skin.

It was Rosalee, and when she saw how scared I was she grabbed me and kissed me. Then she said, “Remember me? You promised you’d get me out of that place.”

I said, “Yeah.” Then when I had my breath back, “It seems like you got yourself out.”

“I had to. Somebody was going to kill me.”

I wanted to hear a lot more about that, but I was afraid we did not have much time and said we had better get out of there.

“I can’t go out where they’ll see me. The police have already been here twice. I hid in a fitting room. Did you really think I was a dummy?”

I said, “I wasn’t paying any attention to you. What if the lady calls the cops?”

“She won’t. She was hiding me—I remind her of her daughter. She thought you were going to arrest her.”

I told her, “Okay, what I have to do is come back with Naala. She’s JAKA, so nobody’s going to take you away from her.”

“She’ll put me back in the prison! There was a girl in there called Yelena who looked like me. A man came in during the night. My bed was on the floor, remember? I slept on the floor.”

I nodded.

“He stabbed Yelena. I saw it! He stabbed her and walked out. He never made a sound. He was looking for me, and he thought he’d found me.”

I said, “I was there today, and nobody said anything about any girl getting stabbed.”

“Well, they wouldn’t unless you went into our building!”

“We did. That’s where we went.” I shut my face and thought a lot.

“Don’t tell Naala. Promise me you won’t tell Naala?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Not if you don’t want me to. Sure.”

“I’m not going out on the street til after dark, no matter what you say. It’s too dangerous.” Rosalee went quiet for a minute, too. “I’ll go out with you then, if you promise not to take me to Naala. But I’m safe here for now—”

A lady had come in, and Rosalee froze, chin up, one hand bent back a little. You see that on mannequins more often than on real women.

I went to the front of the store to keep the lady from coming back where we were to talk to me. She said, “Where is Madame? You do not work here, do you?”

I shook my head and said I was looking for her, too, but it seemed like she had stepped out.

“You are foreign. You did not take her cash box, did you?”

“Hell, no!” I raised my hands to show I was not carrying anything. “I don’t even know where it is.”

“I do,” the lady said.

I do not know where we would have gone with that, if the lady who ran the shop had not come back. I waved to her and said hello. She still looked scared, but she kept coming.

The other lady, the customer, said, “I do not know what he wants. He may have taken your cash box.”

I shook my head hard, and the lady who ran the store went and looked at her cash box. It was all right, which got me off the hook.

The customer wanted to look at hats and the lady must have showed her a dozen of them. Plain hats, hats with ribbons, hats with feathers, and one with a toy bird on it. The customer did not like any of them, and finally she went out of the store.

I said, “I don’t think she wanted a hat at all. She just had some time to kill.” All the hats had reminded me of Martya, how I had bought the fox-fur hat for her, and how she had posed in it in front of the store’s big mirror. I had not expected that to hurt, but it did.

The lady said, “She had time and nothing to do. I see many such. Later, it may be, they come back and buy.”

I said I hoped she would.

“Mostly not,” the lady told me. “You are foreign, so not police.”

“I’m American,” I explained. “I was talking to His Excellency the archbishop yesterday, and he asked me to ask a few questions for him.”

“You were speaking to the archbishop? Speaking the way we speak now?”

“Not exactly like this,” I told her. “We were both sitting down in his study.”

“He gave you his blessing?”

I shook my head. “I should have asked for it, but I forgot. I’ll ask when I come back with answers to his questions.”

“In the cathedral you spoke?”

“In his palace,” I said. “That’s what they call it. It’s really just a big house. He’s got a study upstairs.”

“You talk face-to-face? With His Excellency?”

I said I had and asked whether she knew he climbed the bell tower of the cathedral every morning.

“He is so old! God must give him the strength.”

“Yeah, that’s what I think, too. I’m supposed to ask you if there’s been a man or a woman in here buying clothes for a woman that size.” I pointed to Rosalee, and she stepped down off the little platform and said, “He’s my friend, Petya. He’s trying to help me, to keep me safe from those who want me back in prison.” Part of that was English and part was not. A lot was pointing to herself and grabbing imaginary bars. I am going to skip all that stuff.

Petya shook her head. “No! No one! It is what the woman asks, also. I say no. I tell the truth, always!”

I said, “Wait a minute. What woman are you talking about?”

“The woman just now! The woman who tries so many hats!”

“And I missed it! Oh, my God….” I felt like shit in the street.

Naturally Rosalee wanted to know who the hat woman had been, but I did not want to tell her much with Petya there. Petya was plenty scared already and that might have tipped her over the edge. So I got out as soon as I could.

As far as Rosalee was concerned, I felt like I could relax a little. The police had been in that shop twice and had not found her. The hat lady had been from JAKA and had not found her either. It did not seem likely that more cops would be around anytime soon.

As for Russ and the cult, they were not going to go to dress shops trying to get clothes for Rosalee until they had her, which they did not. What was more, she would not be in prison clothes even if they got her later, because Petya had given her nice street clothes from her shop. So snooping around dress shops was out, but where should I go now?

The way I saw it then, there were two pretty strong possibilities. First I could go see Papa Iason, which was what Naala had told me to do. That would be good if it worked because right now I was more worried about Martya than I was about Rosalee.

Also I felt a little dirty every time I thought about Rosalee. Sure, I had gotten it on with Martya when she was married to Kleon, knowing damned well it was a crooked sort of thing to do. But I had not liked Kleon anyway and he sure as hell did not like me.

“On the other hand there’s warts,” is something my dad used to say a lot. What he meant is there are just about always some negatives to get in the way of the positives. Or every silver lining has a cloud, which is something I have heard some other people say. The thing on the other hand here was that Russ had been my friend. He had liked me and I had liked him, and we had talked about what our lives had been like when we were out and all that stuff. Sure, Russ had never told me he had been in this country before, but he had not lied to me about it, either. And how the hell could I blame him for not telling me that he had knocked up a girl here and now his son was a priest? If that had gotten out his son would have been washed up, most likely. No way did I have a bitch coming because he had not told me about it, and now I was thinking about screwing his wife.

I was thinking about that a lot.

You will be way ahead of me on the other one. I could go back to Naala’s apartment. If she was there, I could tell her what happened and explain that Rosalee was scared of her and why. But if she was not, I was supposed to tell the cops. It was early yet, and I thought the odds that she would not be there were pretty good. So I would have to tell the cops, probably make a fool of myself, and maybe get sent back to the prison.

A third thing was that I could have ditched the whole business and gone to the American embassy, if I could have found out where it was. I did not know and Rosalee did not know, but maybe Russ knew if I could find him.

Which got me nowhere, so I went off to see Papa Iason again—if I could find him.