The door of the Casino stood open. He peered in. The windows were undraped; a few soft panels of gray light slid through them, illuminating the enormity of the place. He could see no sign of an intruder. But some instinct instructed him not to believe the evidence of his eyes. He wasn’t alone here. The skin of his palms pricked. So, curiously, did the flesh beneath his bandages, as though it were especially susceptible in its newborn state.
“Who’s there?” he said, his voice less confident than he’d intended.
At the far end of the room one of the pools of light fluttered. Something passed through it, raising the dust.
“Who’s there?” he said again, his hand straying to the light switch.
He resisted the temptation to turn it on, however. Instead he waited, and watched. Whoever this trespasser was she was too far from him to do any harm.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said gently. “You do know that, don’t you?”
Again, that subtle motion on the other end of the room. But he still couldn’t make out a figure; the darkness beyond the pool of light was too impenetrable.
“Why don’t you step out where I can see you?” he said suggested.
This time he got an answer.
“I will … ” she told him. “In a minute.”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Katya.”
“How did you get in here?”
“Through the door, like everybody else,” she said. Her tone was one of gentle amusement. It would have annoyed Todd if there hadn’t also been a certain sweetness there. He was curious to see what she looked like. But the more he pressed her, he thought, the more she’d resist. So he kept the conversation off the subject, and casually wandered across the immaculately laid and polished floor as he talked.
“It must have been hard to find me,” he said.
“Not at all,” she said. “I heard you were coming from Jerry.”
“You know Jerry?”
“Oh, yes. We go way back. He used to come up here when he was a child. You made a good choice with him, Todd. He keeps secrets.”
“Really? I always thought he was a bit of a gossip.”
“It depends if it’s important or not. He never mentioned me to you, did he?”
“No.”
“You see. Oh yes, and he’s dying. I suppose he didn’t mention that either.”
“No he didn’t.”
“Well he is. He has cancer. Inoperable.”
“He never said a thing,” Todd said, thinking not only of Jerry but of sick, silent Dempsey.
“Well why would he? To you of all people. He idolizes you.”
Her familiarity with Jerry, and her knowledge of his sickness, only added to the puzzle of her presence.
“Did he send you up here?” Todd said.
“No, silly,” the woman replied. “He sent you. I’ve been here all the time.”
“You have? Where?”
“Oh, I mostly stay in the guest-house.”
She spoke so confidently, he almost believed her. But then surely if she were occupying the guest-house, Brahms would have warned Maxine? He knew how important Todd’s security was. Why would he let Maxine see the property, and not mention the fact that there was somebody else living in the Canyon?
He was about halfway across the room now, and he could now see his visitor’s outline in the darkness. Her voice had not misled him. She was a young woman; elegantly dressed in a long, silver gown, highlighted with sinuous designs in gold thread. It shimmered, as though it possessed a subtle life of its own.
“How long have you been staying here?” he said to her.
“A lot longer than you,” she replied.
“Really?”
“Well, of course. When I first met Jerry, I’d been here … twenty, twenty-five years.”
This was an absurd invention of course. Even without seeing her clearly, it was obvious she was less than thirty; probably considerably less.
“But you said Jerry was a boy when you met him?” Todd said, thinking he’d quickly catch the woman in her lie.
“He was.”
“So you can’t have known him … ”
“I know it doesn’t seem very likely. But things are different here in the Canyon. You’ll see. If you stay, that is. And I hope you will.”