Flowering Judas(32)

He had no idea what the car and driver cost, just as he had no idea what the renovations on the townhouse were going to cost. There were things he thought it better not to ask about. It did occur to him that, if he had asked about the cost of the car and the driver, he might have been able to stage a fight and avoid this trip. It interested him that he had not thought of it until he was already here and past complaining.

His face on the front cover of the newspaper was less disturbing to think about. The newspaper was the Mattatuck Republican American, and the other person on the front page was Sarah Palin. Gregor bought a copy on his way through the lobby and looked it over as he waited at the reception desk. Tony Bolero followed behind with the bags, both Gregor’s and his own. That was another thing about the expense of the car and the driver. The car and the driver had come up from Philadelphia. The driver had to be fed and housed for however long this was going to take.

The headline said: ANDROCOELHO CALLS IN EXPERT FROM PHILADELPHIA. It was a very bad headline. There ought to be some school newspaper editors could go to to learn to write headlines. Maybe there was, and Gregor didn’t know about it.

Bennis had been very clear about her motives when she’d hired the car and the driver.

“George is stable,” she’d said. “You heard the doctor say that himself. He’s not going to die tonight, or tomorrow night. He’s not going anywhere for awhile. You’re not going to do anything for anybody hanging around here making the doctors nervous.”

“He’s old,” Gregor said. “I wouldn’t want to be away if he, if he—”

“Died? Gregor, for God’s sake, you can usually get the word ‘died’ out of your mouth without flinching. George has got Martin here. He’s got Angela. He’s got the children. They don’t need you hovering around, either. And no matter what you think, your presence in George’s hospital is not going to be what will keep him alive, if he gets through this. You do not have magic powers.”

“I know I don’t have magic powers,” he’d said—but then, of course, he’d only been half serious. It wasn’t that he thought he had magic powers for good. It wasn’t that he thought he could keep old George alive. It was that he thought he had magic powers against—not evil, exactly. Maybe “against ill.” There was a part of his brain that was convinced that if he went away, the very fact of his going away would cause all kinds of …

It was an idiotic way to think, and Gregor Demarkian knew it. He looked down his face on the front page of the newspaper again. His face was above the fold. Sarah Palin’s face was beneath it. That said something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I’m going to leave these here and go out and get the big suitcase,” Tony Bolero said, waving at the pile he’d made of the luggage.

Gregor said, “Okay.” Then he went over to the briefcase and picked it up. It was the briefcase Bennis had bought him for his birthday, or Christmas, or sometime, a few years ago. It was made by Coach in beautiful black leather, and he hadn’t asked what it cost, either.

He put the briefcase on the reception desk and looked up to find a young woman there, looking very neat and professional and young. She was smiling in that way people did when they were required to smile all the time, for business purposes.

“Can I help you?” she asked him.

Gregor suddenly wished Tony would come back, or that he’d brought Bennis along with him. “Gregor Demarkian,” he said. “I think I have a reservation. In fact, I think I have two.”

The young woman did not stop smiling. “Two,” she said, tapping away at a computer. “Let me look that up.” She tapped and tapped. Gregor looked at the caption under his picture. It read:

GREGOR DEMARKIAN, NATIONALLY RENOWNED CRIME CONSULTANT, WILL AID MATTATUCK POLICE IN MORTON HANGING MYSTERY

Everything was capitalized, as if it were a headline instead of a caption. Gregor’s head was beginning to hurt.

“Here it is,” she said. “It’s two rooms, connecting, but you don’t want the connecting door unlocked? Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s no problem, then. We have everything set up for you. If you’ll just sign here,” she passed along a registry book, “and let me have your credit card.”

Gregor handed over his credit card just as Tony came back in with the big suitcase. It was the one Bennis had packed for him herself.

“You never know what to bring,” she’d told him. “You pack six pairs of underwear and five pairs of socks and think you have everything you need. And don’t forget, the driver does errands. He can run out to the laundry if you need him to.”