The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Ninety-Five
Dragons and Angels
As
Barrie tried to convince Alice the fairy to come down from the book
shelves, Abberline inspected the Room.
A chair caught his
attention and he made his way across the Room. In the chair Bon Bon
sat, her legs tucked beneath her, her fingers caressing the fabric.
When he stopped before her she brought her eyes up to meet
his.
“He is gone too now, Inspector. First, my Don Juan…and
now, my Cesar.”
She continued to rub the chair as if it
were a wishing lamp, trying to bring back the rebel.
“My
condolences, Miss,” Fred said.
His suspicions confirmed
that Cesar was gone Abberline returned to his own table. He realized
the chair had become evidence in this mystery of the disappearances
but there was no way to store it. And he was convinced that he was no
closer to the truth of how or why the men were gone.
Abberline
plopped down, leaning to the floor to grab up his belongings. Slowly
he brought from the bag the absinthe and other paraphernalia to begin
his private journey. He needed his dreams, he thought as he poured
the green liquid into the glass and began to prepare the deadly
concoction.
Carefully he set the spoon across the mouth of
the glass, placing a single sugar cube in its bowl. He then fumbled
for his matches, his hands shaking as he anticipated the experience
he was about to partake. He needed to escape the madness about him
but knew that he only would travel further into his own world of
psychosis.
He dropped the matches to the floor and bent down
to retrieve them. As he came up a hand swept the table, sending the
drink, the spoon, the cube crashing to the floor. He shot a dark look
upward and saw Roux, his face filled with anger.
The
commotion brought the other men to their feet and Jung was at Fred’s
side, pushing the gypsy away.
“What the hell do you think
you’re doing?” the drug lord demanded. “What’s up your Irish
ass?”
“Him!” Roux pointed to Abberline. “He is
suppose to be investigating. He is suppose to be coming up with
answers. Instead he sits here getting high, or loaded, or whatever it
is that it does to him…meanwhile…meanwhile…” Roux’s words
drifted.
Abberline sat back calmly, he was never one to
quickly react to anyone’s anger. He listened to Roux and understood
where the anger originated.
“There is nothing that can be
done, Michael.” Abberline used Roux’s first name. The gypsy
started at the sound of it.
“How did you know?” His mind
distracted by the Inspector’s information.
Abberline waved
towards the mess on the floor.
“My dragons…my angels…they
tell me things. I know because I see, because I hear.”
Roux
found himself taking a step back as he watched the Absinthe flow
along the floor like a green river toward him.
The gypsy’s
eyes came up to Abberline.
“But you do not see the answers
we need.” he questioned. “You do not see how to stop what is
happening here.”
Abberline shook his head. “Sorry, lad.
No. Not yet anyway. I was hoping…” he gestured again towards the
floor.
“But that was my daily allowance. I will have to
wait until tomorrow now.”
Roux paled at his words.
Abberline knew why. Tomorrow would be too late for Roux. At
the rate the disappearances were occurring, Roux would be gone.
The
Irishman turned away, dragging himself back to his table, lifting his
guitar as if to play, then setting it down to his lap. His thoughts
of his future weighed heavy.
George Jung had not moved from
his spot as the two men had argued. Now he slid into an empty chair,
pulling a packet from his coat pocket.
“Here, Inspector.
Since your s--t is on the floor, why don’t you use some of mine. On
the house! No charge!” Jung slid the packet across the table.
Abberline shook his head.
“No Mr. Jung. Please put
it away. I am not interested in your modern day poison.”
Jung
looked insulted. “Ah..come on, Inspector. It’s not like you’ve
never done drugs.” The man rolled his eyes to the floor were the
mess still lay.
“I assure you Mr. Jung. I have no interest
in your style of drugs. Now please, excuse me. I must clean up and
then I shall try to sleep. Perhaps something will still come to me in
my dreams.”
Jung shrugged. “Okay, your loss. But I tell
you what, Inspector. I’ll leave it here. Just in case you change
your mind. Just in case.”
Then Jung stood and returned to
join Wilmot who was deep in his own inebriation.
Abberline
picked up the packet and rose, heading behind the bar. Once there he
split open the packet and dumped the white powder down the sink,
running the water to be sure the last of the drug trailed down the
drain.
He looked up to find Roux, an approving look on his
face. He nodded back then returned to his table, propped up his feet,
closed his eyes and tried to dream.