*****
Jason pours alcohol directly into the cut in his shoulder, and I can see the pain flare up in his eyes, but his face doesn’t betray anything. He gives me a pair of tweezers and makes me poke through the cut, looking for stray bits of glass deep in the flesh. I find one, a tiny fragment, after minutes of work, and he gives a satisfied smile. Eventually we give up, and I help him put a bandage over it, wrapping it around his shoulder and securing it tightly. He nods at me. “Let me finish up here. Pour us a drink.”
Downstairs in the huge living room I find a dusty bottle of forty year old malt. I prefer bourbon, but hey it’s been a strange day and this stuff looks interesting. I pour two large glasses and set them down on the coffee table, and sit on the sofa, nursing mine, staring into the large, black television. I’m wondering again about this woman that I was supposed to have fallen for, just a strange, empty vision, but she keeps coming back to me. She just sits on the edge of my memory. Why would I go to a group like that? For the love of a woman? It makes no sense.
“It makes no sense.” Jason’s voice behind me startles me and I look up, I hadn’t realized that he was here. He’s not wearing anything above his waist, and there’s a tiny dot of red showing through the bandage across his shoulder. He sits next to me and picks up his drink, drinks long. “Right” he sighs, “let’s lay it down. Paris goes to Jelfs because Jelfs knows The Village, and Paris wants to get some help because of some woman. So he’s lost touch with Jelfs, but he gets his number from that woman Patience. OK?” I nod. “Paris is a loser, never had a girlfriend, so for whatever reason this woman has lit his fuse, God knows why, but he’s kind of desperate when he sees Jelfs. Jelfs feels sorry for him and puts him in touch with this group. This same group that’s connected to Draman, according to our research, and both are into this black magic stuff. And believe me, from what I’ve seen, it works.”
He sighs and stares into the blackness of the TV screen. “What did you see, Jason?” I ask softly. “In that room…” But Jason just shakes his head. “Believe me, I can’t even explain it. I just can’t. But I’ve seen enough to know it’s there.” It’s cold in the room but there’s sweat running down his forehead. “Jesus” he gets up suddenly, “I haven’t set the security. What am I thinking.” Holding his shoulder, he walks across the shiny wooden floor of the vast living room towards the far end. “What else do you know, Mark?” he calls across his shoulder before disappearing into another room.
What else do I know? I look into the television set and its black screen as if there was something there, as if there was an answer there. What else do I know? “Jason, I’m John Paris. Mike is my brother.” I say it out loud in my head, hoping that it will sound better. “Jason, I’m John Paris, Mike is my brother. I think he played his magic on me. He switched me into this body. Beyond that I don’t know what happened.” How will he react? He’d understand, surely, he’d understand that I don’t understand. “Jason. Listen. There’s something that I have to tell you. But you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this, you don’t tell The General or Sara Marks or whatever, I don’t want to become one of her experiments, I don’t want my dick chopped off or anything like that, all right. Promise me? Thank you. Well, it’s like this. I’m actually John Paris. I know, it’s mad, but it’s true. It makes sense doesn’t it. Somehow I must have talked to Mike, I must have found him and he must have…. Anyway. I don’t know where he is now. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“What was that?” Jason is behind me again. He looks pale as he sits down. “All the security is on. I’ve no idea if it will make any difference or not. But we have to try. Get me another drink…. Thanks.” He downs the whisky in one. “Right. What else do we know. There’s Mike Paris as well. He seems to look out for John but he’s also really dangerous. And… it looks like he’s into this shit as well, from what he did to his dad. Somehow he’s connected into all this, isn’t he? What did you tell me? Didn’t John go and see Mike after seeing Jelfs?”
“Erm…”
“I’m sure that’s what you told me, isn’t it? Paris contacts Patience what’s her name, says needs cash and he’s going to see Mike. Then what? Then, Paris disappears, and the next thing we know he’s dead. But he had something. He had some bargaining chip, something that The Village wanted, because it sure as hell wasn’t cash. So what did he have. What did he have, Mark?”
“Erm…” I gulp, “I don’t know?”
“Get us another drink.” I lift the bottle from the floor by my side and fill both our glasses up again. I light a cigarette, my hands shaking.
“Nervous, Mark?”
“What? No…” Jesus. What does he know, could he have worked it out? The signs are all there.
“You should be. I am. God knows, if they knew he told us, then won’t they come after us next. Right, got to keep a clear head.” He looks at the remainder of the whisky in his glass, shrugs, and throws it back. “God, my head hurts. Look” he looks at me, “I’ll go and see The General tomorrow. First thing, you get through your police thing in the morning. Come back here. We’ll go together. We’ll tell him what we’ve been up to. He’ll understand. Then we’ll work out a plan with him. All right? This could help. We’ve got a feed into the Village. It could help locate Draman.” He sighs deeply. “I’m going to crash out. Make sure you do too. I’ll drop you off, quarter to nine at the station, get Rob to give you a lift back, or get a cab, all right.” He gets up and winces in pain, and walks slowly to the large, open staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs.
And I can’t stop thinking about the woman. I lie down on the sofa and try to sleep.