9. Let’s Make a D...
“Well, aren’t you the smug one?” continued the gabby Clément. “I suppose you’ve guessed at the truth. You’re not dealing with Miura or Arnotine Ferucand or that big bag of blubber you picked up in Jacmel; it’s me you must contend with, and I don’t mean the desk clerk. Miura, Arnotine,...
9. Let’s Make a D...
It was a short flight to Miami. Ryu wasn’t drunk, but he had another spectacular headache brought on by persistent confusion and an uncomfortable sense of being in way over his head. In an extraordinary change of personality and behavior, Clément fussed over Ryu, insisting that the...
8. Ghul-ish Thoughts (3...
I tiptoed into Lizette’s darkened bedroom, my mother’s room, one more chamber where she wrote and slept and wept away day after day of sorrow. I opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulled out one of her sweaters. It was wine-red, not black like the short-sleeved crepe shift I was...
8. Ghul-ish Thoughts (2...
“You, skulking out there on the terrace, shut that door,” Mother’s friend said to the gardener. The friend was thin, pale and dark-haired like my mother. She wore a black suit, black hat, sheer black stockings, black heels. The gardener, a bony little man, nodded respectfully and...
8. Ghul-ish Thoughts
At his point I think I should tell you a thing or two about ghouls . . . or ghuls, as they are known in some parts of the world. I know about them from my mother’s books—the only part of her sizable estate that my father managed to miss. There were three small books on this particular...