The Jim Morrison Heist Pt. 02

"That would make any inconvenience worth my while," allowed Gyp, eyes modestly lowered. "So off with you then, you two try to forget this nonsense. Yes?"

With all parties in agreement Gyp scarpered back down the trail. Zoey and Jallen went the other way. He checked his watch when they reached the Rowling-Boyle's complex. 9:48.

* * *

Once they got to the front door of Runesgate Manor, Zoey thought all the stress of the night lay behind her. The dodgy business while traversing the inter-dimensional pathway had all been the randy Jallen Delete's fault. She knew her pussy was the bomb, but still, he just couldn't wait to get back in her pants. He'd tried at her granny's house this evening when he picked her up; later in the car after they cleared the last checkpoint; and only minutes ago they'd damned near lost their souls forever bumping into some death squad from another century. When the body becomes a see-through outline the soul has left its host. The long term side effects could shave a decade or more off one's lifespan. She'd not mentioned it to Jallen or Gyp, but she would be quizzing granny about it tomorrow. Maybe she knew of a spell or morning-after pill to counteract soul erosion. Jallen must not be that much of a magician if he didn't know soul endangerment basics. If a solution existed she'd have to inform him. But maybe she'd forget if he didn't mind his peas and cues during the party. He'd been a right bastard since picking her up. If he wasn't trying hustle her he was complaining, a classic casebook Gemini.

Zoey scolded herself. Chill, take a deep breath and exhale. You're at a party, have a good time tonight. Let go of your troubles.

A large dog and large man in double breasted livery manned the door. The dog knew Zoey by scent, the man knew her by name. She introduced Jallen to them.

"My guest is Richard Darling. Dickie, meet two longstanding friends of mine: Dandeleo also known as the Dan Dan Man and his familiar, Pugmire." The abnormally huge Pug stood eye to eye with Jallen sniffing suspiciously at his face.

"There's a good dog," he said to the beast, not that that stopped the sniffing.

The two men shook hands and Dandeleo opened the big double doors for them to enter. An inordinate amount of noise blasted out of the long alcove like the barrel of a cannon but the volume decreased before Zoey and he reached the stairs in the mezzanine at the end of the alcove. The orchestra just wound up their first set, musicians abandoned their places and instruments and left the bandstand on a break. Only the drone of conversation remained, the incessant undertone of any party. Zoey and Jallen took one of the short but wide stairways in the mezzanine down into a very large round ballroom that teemed with guests.

An impressive array of candelabras blazed brightly in solstice tradition. The Runesgate's famed curved walls bristled with decorative greenery for the occasion. A dozen or more people in masks and costumes opened gifts wrapped in bright foil paper and ribbons in front of a prodigious fireplace. Servants in distinctive yellow uniforms integrated among partygoers.

Jallen asked, "Zoey, are the Dan Dan Man and Pugmire providing security for the event?"

"Gyp is the first line of defense with his shotgun and magical capability. At the door the dog and Dandeleo are second line. Inside I know Lady Anyys will have high profile men and women keeping the peace in case of irregularities. On a night like this Mssr. Noir will call the shots for internal security. Steer clear, he's a not a nice man. You'll recognize him without introduction; know him if and when you see him. His agents are proactive and aggressive."

"Meaning they're on the attack?"

"Righto. Forewarned is forearmed. Avoid them to avoid bodily injury."

"Are the Rowling-Boyles expecting that kind of trouble?"

"No one ever does. A party of theirs got out of control once I know of. When you invite sects of magicians of all stripes and persuasions under one roof serving alcohol at a sex magick ritual one never knows."

Zoey glanced over his shoulder and saw people she knew. "Uh-oh, look who's here."

After that alert Jallen half-turned to glimpse several Hogfarts students heading their way, all female. "Friends of yours?"

"Honey Trapp is, I'm unsure about the rest. You know any of them?"

"A couple of students of mine. They're in different classes than the one you're in. Do you want me to stay with you or keep my distance till they're gone?"

"They saw us come in together, professor. You're no embarrassment to me, but tongues may wag back at school about you being here with me. I'll do all the talking if that's what you want."

"I'm not afraid of gossip. With a mask on and drastic new barbering they may not even recognize me. Just had it cut this morning and haven't taught a class since. Monday's a different story."

"You're not in your trademark tweeds either but I doubt a trip to the tailor and barber and masked up like The Spirit will make you incognito enough that your own students don't recognize you."

"Right ho, Zoey. You don't look like you usually do on campus either and obviously they know you. But you're noticeable. Me, invisibility."

One of the girls, in as abbreviated a costume as hers, called loudly from six feet away, "Zoey Quark, is that you?"

"Hello, Ruby Rook, I didn't know you were invited too."

"A few of us at Hogfarts got invitations. I think because our parents know the Rowling-Boyles."

Zoey said, "That's what I thought too."

Another girl in another daring outfit asked her, "Do you still ride your Vespa? It's so cute."

"I'm about to trade it in for a chopped hog, Lascivia. What colour leathers do you think I should get?"

One of Zoey's rivals, Sherice Butter, also among the group, offered an unsolicited answer. "I'd say lime green, Quark. If it looks good on Gyp, it should work for you too."

"Ha ha, Sherry. Nice gown, did your mom let you borrow it?"

"I don't like to show my tits in public like some girls I won't name."

Zoey smiled sweetly. "You have to have them to show them."

A huge breasted slut Zoey vaguely knew wrinkled her nose at her comment and went right over to Jallen. "Your costume is just brilliant, professor Delete, I recognized you straightaway."

Jallen smiled politely but his eyes stayed empty. "Tricker Treatise, you're quite recognizable yourself. I like your mask. And liked the poem you turned in yesterday. Nice one."

"Thank you, professor," the girl Tricker replied, her voice syrupy sweet. Zoey saw she winked at him. "So how nice was my poem?"

"Top marks plus, Miss Treatise," Jallen said, face blank. Zoey thought him adept at maintaining a dumb look for long periods of time.

Sherice Butter went over to Tricker and Jallen. "Good to see you, professor. You're the last person I expected to be here. Are you Zoey's date tonight?"

Still smooth, Jallen offered a noncommittal answer. "Simply had to meet the famous Rowling-Boyles."

Except for her friend Lascivia, all the girls gravitated over to Jallen billing and cooing over his smooth face and new suit. A girl Zoey hadn't had a chance to exchange pleasantries with had squeezed up very close to him, fingering one of his lapels and beaming a thousand watt fuck-me smile. Another groveling groupie, thought Zoey, and shrugged it off.

Jallen said to the groupie, "And what's your name, young lady?"

"Phoebe Jayne Dough." She tittered and wiggled her boobies from side to side for Jallen's benefit.

"Sounds familiar, I think I've heard the name before."

Zoey drifted over to Jallen when she heard Phoebe's klaxon-like voice. The bitch still had her hand on his lapel. Zoey added, "Also known as Head On Arrival. Get it?"

Phoebe snapped sarcastically at her, "Nice pokies, quirky Quark."

"Nice whaletail, Pheeb, haven't seen one of those in ages."

"Buy a bra, big mouth."

"May I borrow your Victoria's Secret catalog?"

"Bitch!"

"Slut."

"Skank!

"Roundheels."

Phoebe marched off, the retreating halves of her butt-implanted bottom gyrating like two piglets squeezed inside a garbage bag. Lascivia put a hand over her mouth trying to hide her laughter. She told Zoey she'd see her later and departed.

Before Tricker Treatise moved on she hissed in Zoey's ear, "Had any pineapple juice lately?"

Zoey watched silently as she slithered away with Ruby Rook, their heads close together comparing notes. A bark of laughter erupted from Ruby. Zoey would've screamed had Jallen not been standing there. One mystery had solved itself, but new ones took its place. Unidentified voices now had names, but either Ruby and Tricker had never confided in Jallen, or assumed Jallen and she were on a date, he'd lied to her or yet another female student was involved.

Unaware of the maelstrom of questions in her head he said to her, offhand, "You meet all kinds at a party, Zoey. It is a full moon after all."

Zoey went with the flow. "In Phoebe's case a half moon."

He cracked a smile. "You are on top of your game, Zoey. Rapier wit, never heard you so glib. You have a gift."

She was near enough to him to nudge her pokies into his arm, but didn't. "Personal experience informs you of some of my gifts."

"Too bad it's not my birthday."

"If you play your cards right you never know what could happen," she said in a voice more neutral than flirtatious. Let him wonder if she used a figure of speech or meant it as a double entendre.

Jallen shook his head, half-smiling. They strolled deeper into a dense crowd. Zoey scanned the people in the room. Scraps of conversation floated in and out of earshot as they drifted from one area to the next. They made faces at each other reacting to fragments like:

". . . a madcap glot of snarky chat . . ."

and

". . .not so much a wheel of time but a ball of time. Everything is interconnected . . ."

Zoey asked, "Would that have made sense if we'd heard the whole conversation?"

"Philosophical questions aren't easy. But I think yes, the words would make perfect sense and we would understand them. In context."

She said, "There are so many contexts to choose from."

"I agree, to an extent. Contextual understanding is basic, built-in. I watched a study of a bulldog being shown horror films. The brute's body language told you he understood what he was watching as much as you did. Bugger would be startled by the same jumpcut edit that startled you, bark at the screen if a monster with spooky music playing crept up on some kid, pitch a bitch at King Kong manhandling Fay Wray, stuff like that."

"I understand the context. If it's obvious enough for dumb animals to understand, why shouldn't we know the context of words we hear?"

"So another of life's great mysteries solved?"

"I wouldn't exactly say that, the subject's too broad."

On the other side of the room seven or eight round card tables stood set up in a loose circle, some full of seated players, others vacant with reserved placards displayed. Zoey strolled around the tables, Jallen in tow. She ran a hand over the bright red felt of one; she preferred red to the blasé green of typical card tables. Lady Anyys spared no expense, all her tables custom made, highly stylized and individual. Zoey saw games of contract bridge, Vingt-Un and seven card draw underway.

Jallen said, "I'm familiar with these games. What are those people playing? The chap in the tux tending their table is holding a baccarat pallet, but that's not what they're playing."

Zoey only needed one glance to know. "That's a Seven Suits game. A baccarat pallet isn't necessary, but overkill and money are embraced here. In for a penny, in for a pound doesn't apply at Runesgate. They're always in for a pound, and lots of them. You may've guessed from our immediate surroundings the Rowling-Boyles aren't just filthy rich, they're absolutely vulgar. Want to take a closer look?"

"Of course I would, darling." Triggering another round of face making.

She took him by the hand and they moved toward the card players. When they drew closer not one, but two of the women waved gaily at her. Zoey waved in return and gasped, but not with delight. Two of the players had had their backs to her. One of them spoke.

"Well, if it isn't Zoey Quark," said a woman with coiffed silver hair.

Zoey gawked at her. "Good evening, Lady Anyys. Thanks so much for the invitation."

"The pleasure is all mine, dear, haven't seen you in ages. My, how you've grown."

Zoey ignored that and said to the other woman, stout and blue-haired, "Grandmother, such a surprise. I didn't know this was where your game was tonight."

"I didn't know you'd been invited either. Now who would that charming gentleman at your side be?"

Jallen winced when Zoey introduced him. "My escort for the evening is the honourable Lord Crotchford, Richard Darling. I forget, are you an MBE or OBE?"

"MBE, of course, my dear. Apologies for not clarifying when we met."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, milord," Zoey's grandmother said.

"Likewise, ladies." Jallen bowed shortly and stiffly, tipping his head toward each woman.

"Lord Crotchford," Zoey's grandmother asked, "Did you know you sound remarkably like Sean Connery?"

He responded with a tight rictus of a smile, "It's been brought to my attention. You are too kind, madam."

Lady Anyys said to Jallen, "There's a chap should be here who does a splendid Roger Moore impression. Fair card player too, calls himself James Bondage. Fancy that. The two of you should meet, perhaps you would get on."

"I'll keep it in mind, milady."

Zoey couldn't help noticing another woman at the table. Not yet 30, a great tousled head of hair and eyes behind large hornrimmed glasses glued to Jallen's crotch. Intentionally or not, his tight trousers flagrantly outlined his package. The woman's tongue slithered across the lips of her wide mouth. Was it subconscious or careless? Was she a Reptilian? If Jallen sounded like Connery, the woman reminded Zoey of the actress Julia Roberts in her early days of long curly hair. Except with bigger tits. Her silk blouse was dented by erect nipples. She either felt a chill or other local stimuli had her tips high and tight. Zoey wanted to ask about her because she seemed familiar, but didn't want getting mired down with another time consuming introduction. Those gave granny and Lady Anyys opportunity to ask Jallen more questions.

Zoey rode to his rescue. "I'm a Daniel Craig girl myself. And, ladies, we just arrived. I should like to introduce my friend to some friends and mingle. We'll be back round. Ta ta, grandmother, Lady Anyys."

But her granny had a comment to make about her, she usually did. "That's quite an outfit you have on, Zoey. I've not seen that one before."

"It's a costume party, grandmother," she remarked unapologetically, "I'm certain no will even recognize me."

"You'd need to be wearing a helmet with the visor down not to be recognized, child. There are photographers from the press in attendance tonight. If you ass around here enough you might get your picture in the papers."

Zoey knew how to handle her. "I'll buy several copies to send all your friends. They'll marvel at your celebrity granddaughter."

"Your mum would be so proud, and I know your father'd be thrilled to see you in The Sun. On Page 3."

Unflappable, Zoey replied, "They're on top of my mailing list."

Her grandmother said, "Do at least play a rubber with us this evening, child, before getting off somewhere."

"Parties can become turbulent, so no promises. But I shall see you again before we leave." She snagged Jallen's arm to extricate him from the vicinity of the card table.

Out of earshot he remarked, "That could've got sticky."

"They were the last people I wanted to run into first thing. Had no idea granny'd be here too."

"Maybe you shouldn't've gone that way."

"You were the one who wanted a guided tour of the Seven Suits table."

"Touché. What's with Lord Crotchford, MBE?"

"You would have preferred professor Jallen Delete, distinguished Hogfarts faculty associate, and personal friend of the late Jim Morrison?"

"Sean Connery?"

"Like you never ever heard that before. Sweetie, that one's out of my jurisdiction entirely. It's your voice not mine, which is not to say it's a bad voice. I've spent hours listening to your lectures. You sound pleasant, not put-me-to-sleep boring, not contrived, not anything. You sound like you."

"Page 3 Girl?"

She cocked a wary eye at him. "You've already seen me in the flesh but I'll make sure you get your copy too."

"How can I ever thank you? I'll keep it in my safe. You crossed verbal swords with the senior ladies as well as you did with the younger ones. Took the piss out of them all. Is your granny always so inquisitive?"

"Yes, nosey as a crotch-sniffing hound. But I'm used to that shit. Had I known she would be here I would not worn a dress like this. It disgruntled her more than anything. We speak, but as little as possible. She gets her posts at her cottage, of course. Mine are forwarded from my parents' to school during summer. Neither of us knew we'd got invited. We were surprised to collide."

"Maybe I misunderstood about her teaching you to play Seven Suits. About her being in a club that tucked in at The Hare & Half Moon before getting out the playing cards."

"Were we naked when I told you all that? Arbitrary rules like no clothes in the back seat, no clothes in the house made us regular nudists Monday night and Tuesday morning. So who remembers what exactly was said during sex, especially new lovers exploring each other the first time?"

"Touché again. So you don't know all the ladies in granny's Seven Suits club except those that played at your house."

"Her house. I don't live there all the time so I'm not aware of a full club roster. There could be twenty or more. They switch up, not the same faces at the table on her Saturdays. And when they play at her house while I'm there I do my level best to get out before those old birds come to roost awhile. You've never heard so much chat in your life!"

Jallen smiled at that. "What about Lady Anyys?"

"I didn't even know she was one of them till tonight, and she may not even be in their club at all. My family knew the Rowling-Boyles before I was born so granny and Anyys could be up to anything under the sun. How about you? Did you suss out Lady Anyys as a vampire yet?"

"Impossible to say. At this juncture I honestly don't care if she has fangs or not. I wouldn't want to out her as vampire any more than I'd want a stake through the old girl's heart. Neither did I want to stare her down at the card table. Meeting a vampire's gaze can put you under their power. I wrestle with enough demons as it is to want to add another to the list."

Zoey snickered. "You seemed a lot more curious about her alleged vampirism motoring in."

"Curiosity in the safe haven of my car talking with a friend and biting off more than I can chew on Rowling-Boyle home turf are opposite ends of the specula, Zoey. You've known her a long time and had background to share. In other words, playing 'what if' on the way here was just making small talk. For now I'd as soon put paid to Lady Anyys instead of getting my Inverness cloak and deerstalker out of mothballs to launch a hairy scary private inquiry. The game's afoot, Witless."

He got her tittering again. Not just any man could make her laugh. She said, "I can't blame you there, Lady Anyys could be bad news even if she's not Black Veil. What did you think of her in general?"

Jallen said, "A shrewd one her. Milady was studying me as closely as your granny. Of course I knew they were sizing me up. When I took fire you whisked me away. Grateful for that." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "For saving my arse. Too many more direct questions and my Lord Crotchford, Dickie Darling MBE cover story, a lark made up as we went along, would go up in flames. What would I have said if Anyys or granny asked me about the various Crotchford estates, my different holdings in the country, past service to the Empire? What contributions had I made to Blighty to earn my MBE?"