Taltos (Page 62)

Taltos (Lives of the Mayfair Witches #3)(62)
Author: Anne Rice

“I’m sure!” said Marklin furiously. He went directly to his own Rolls, and slammed the door on the attendant who had followed him. He hit thirty before he reached the gates.

On the highway he quickly accelerated to sixty, then seventy, eighty. But Stuart was long gone. And he could not know whether Stuart had even taken the highway—whether it was to Tessa or to Yuri that Stuart had gone. And since he had no idea whatsoever where Tessa was, or Yuri, he was following nothing and no one!

“Tommy, I need you,” he said aloud. He reached for the car phone and, with his thumb, punched in the number of the secret digs in Regent’s Park.

No answer.

Tommy might have already disconnected everything. Oh, why hadn’t they made a plan to meet in London? Surely Tommy would realize the error. Surely Tommy would wait there.

The loud screech of a horn startled him. He slammed down the phone. He had to pay attention to what he was doing. He floored the accelerator and passed the truck in front of him, pushing the Rolls to its top speed.

Thirteen

IT WAS AN apartment in Belgravia, not far from Buckingham Palace, and expertly fitted with everything he required. Georgian furnishings surrounded him, a great deal of fine new white marble, and soft shades of peach, lemon, oyster white. A staff of expert clerks had been retained to do his bidding, stringently efficient-looking men and women who set to work immediately preparing the fax machine for him, the computer, the phones.

He saw that the near-unconscious Samuel was put to bed properly in the largest of the bedrooms, and then he took possession of the office, seating himself at the desk to read through the papers quickly, and absorb whatever he could of the story of the murder outside London, the man who had been strangled by a mysterious intruder with very large hands.

The articles made no mention of his height. Curious. Had the Talamasca decided to keep this secret, and if so, why?

“Surely Yuri has seen this,” he thought, “if Yuri is functioning at all normally.” But then, how could he know whether or not Yuri was?

Messages were already coming in from New York.

Yes, these were things he had to attend to. He couldn’t pretend even for one day, really, that the company could run without him.

The young Leslie, who apparently never slept, looked radiant as she waited upon him, receiving yet another few pages from a clerk, and placing them to one side.

“Your lines are connected, sir,” she said. “Anything else?”

“Dearest,” he said, “see that a great roast is prepared in the kitchen for Samuel. He’ll be a bear when he opens his eyes.”

He was already punching in the direct line to Remmick in New York as he continued speaking to her.

“See to it that my car and driver are ready for me whenever I need them. Fill the refrigerators with fresh milk, and buy some cheeses for me, soft double- and triple-cream cheeses. All manner of the best Camembert and Brie that you can find. But you must send out for all this. I need you here. Tell me immediately if Claridge’s calls with a message, and if you don’t hear from them, call every hour on the hour, you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Ash!” she said zealously, and at once began to scribble everything on a notebook which she held two inches from her eyes.

In a twinkling, she had vanished.

But he was to see her rushing about with marvelous energy every time he glanced up.

It was three o’clock when she came to the desk, with all the enthusiasm of a schoolgirl.

“Claridge’s, sir, they want to talk to you personally. Line two.”

“Excuse me,” he said, pleased to see that she at once backed away.

He picked up the lighted line.

“Yes, this is Ashlar, you are calling me from Claridge’s?”

“No. This is Rowan Mayfair. I got your number from Claridge’s about five minutes ago. They said you’d left this morning. Yuri is with me. He’s afraid of you, but I have to talk to you. I have to see you. Do you recognize my name?”

“Absolutely, Rowan Mayfair,” he said softly. “Will you tell me where I can meet you, please? Yuri is unharmed?”

“First tell me why you’re willing to meet me. What precisely do you want?”

“The Talamasca is full of treachery,” he said. “Last night I murdered their Superior General.” No response from her. “The man was part of the conspiracy. The conspiracy is connected with the Mayfair family. I want to restore order to the Talamasca so that it will go on being the Talamasca, and also because I vowed once that I would always look out for the Talamasca. Rowan Mayfair, do you know Yuri is in danger? That this conspiracy is a threat to his life?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“I haven’t lost you, have I?” he asked.

“No. I was just thinking about the sound of your voice.”

“The Taltos you bore did not live past infancy. His soul had not been at peace before he was born. You cannot think of me in those terms, Rowan Mayfair, even if my voice reminds you of him.”

“How did you kill the Superior General?”

“I strangled him. I did it as mercifully as I could. There was a purpose to what I did. I wanted to expose the conspiracy to the entire Order, so that the innocent might know, as well as the guilty. However, I do not think the problem involves the whole Order, only a few.” Silence. “Please let me come to you. I will come alone if you like. We can meet in a crowded place. Perhaps you know you’ve reached me in Belgravia. Tell me where you are.”

“Yuri is meeting with a member of the Talamasca right now. I can’t leave him.”

“You must tell me where this meeting is taking place.” Quickly he stood up and motioned to the doorway. The clerk appeared immediately. “I need my driver!” he whispered. “Now!” He lifted the mouthpiece again. “Rowan Mayfair, this meeting could be dangerous to Yuri. It could be a very, very bad mistake.”

“But that man too is coming alone,” said Rowan. “And we will see him before he sees us. His name is Stuart Gordon. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“I have heard the name. The man is very old, that’s all I can tell you.”

Silence. “Do you know anything else about him, anything that would make it likely that he would know about you?”

“No, nothing,” he said. “Stuart Gordon and other members of the Talamasca do go from time to time to the glen of Donnelaith. But they have never seen me there. Or anywhere. They have never laid eyes upon me.”