Page 104 of Book of Night
As Charlie worked, she let the physicality of the tasks take over, let herself fall into the rhythm of the work. Fill this, shake that, swipe a card, start a tab, pocket the change. Hold the pilsner glass at the exact right angle for the exact right head on the beer, do a boss pour for the hipster requesting one, dole out Fireball to a trio steering straight for regrets.
As she wiped down the bar top and collected wet napkins and wooden stirrers, her thoughts turned to her last days with Vince. The day before he’d left, he’d gone outside with the excuse of cleaning the gutters. He must have known that it was only a matter of time before Salt connected the dots and discovered him. Maybe he’d taken that opportunity to move theLiber Noctemto his van. She’d tossed the room only hours later. She could have been that close to finding it.
Hiding the book in his van was a short-term strategy at best, though. Since Vince had no legitimate ID, he couldn’t have a vehicle registered to him. If he was ever pulled over, the van would be impounded.
And if Lionel found his grandson at any point, it would be an obvious place to look.
Now that she thought of it, her car would have been an equally bad hiding spot. Someone like Hermes might have taken it apart that night he came to Rapture. Salt had been standing right next to it not four days ago.
But that left the whole rest of everywhere to have putThe Book of Night.
Liam said that when Vince would hide something, he’d pick one of the places rich people don’t see. Perhaps he’d hidden it in one of the areas of Salt’s own house he’d never gone. The laundry room. The pantry. Behind the television. That would be something, for Salt to be walking past it the entire time and never noticing. But it was risky too. It would be hard to reobtain the book, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t be disturbed by someone else. Even if he taped it to the chimney, slate repair people might stumble on it.
Even on a roof—
Charlie stopped, nearly overpouring soda in the scotch and soda she was making.
Who cleans the gutters the day after they murder someone and the day before they leave their girlfriend? A ridiculously considerate person, she supposed. Someone who’d been meaning to get to the task and wanted to get it done before they were gone.
Or someone who was moving something to a new hiding spot, one that no one was likely to stumble on, and which wasn’t the sort of place that someone like Salt would even remember existed. Their rental house had a chimney, connected to the furnace and water heater rather than a fireplace.
And it had a metal top on it. One that magnets might grip.
Of course, there were lots of things that were made of metal in a house. Butoutsideof the house made sense if he wanted to protect the people inside. And if Vince wanted to be able to retrieve it without having to face Charlie.
She could look, anyway.
It would give her a chance to check and see if Adam had busted up their place. If it didn’t seem like he’d been there, Charlie would call Posey and they could move their stuff and themselves back in the morning. Put a baseball bat by the door. See if their landlord would mind if Charlie installed a couple of better locks.
If she did find theLiber Noctem,she had a different problem. No one blackmailed you into one job. Do that job, and there’d always be another. Carrot and stick, back and forth, until you forgot you ever had a choice in the first place. And then what? There wasn’t a reward at the end, just a knife in the back.
Charlie might not agree with Odette that the past was the only thing that mattered, but it had taught her something.
Besides, she’d be damned before she rolled over for Lionel Salt.
She was going to have to con him. She wasn’t sure how, but she would have to beat him at his own manipulative game. Realizing she had to manage that or die trying brought her a great calm, like letting a riptide drag you away with it.
As she waved good night to Odette and got in her car, Charlie had the bittersweet feeling one gets just before leaving town. Bidding farewell to everything, because you’re not sure you’re going to see it again.
Charlie parked a block down from her house and walked over. As she got close, she saw lights moving on a screen inside. The television was on.
She slowed her step. Had Posey forgotten to turn it off before leaving? Was Adam so arrogant that he’d broken in to the house and then kicked up his heels?
Quietly she took the ladder from where it was leaned against the side of the house and set it against the gutters.
As she climbed up the rungs, she could see inside more easily.
Someone was in the house. In the shifting light of the television, she was able to make out a figure slumped to one side of the couch, as though he’d fallen asleep while waiting for someone to return home.
28ABANDON ALL HOPE
Up on the roof, Charlie crawled over the asphalt shingles. The pitch wasn’t particularly steep and the moon was bright enough for her to see her way to the short faux chimney, with a metal grating covering the top. She pulled herself upright, looking out over the neighborhood for a moment, then, satisfied that no one was out on the street watching, she checked for bolts screwing down the cover. To her surprise, the whole thing lifted off. It was flimsy, like tin or aluminum. Looking down the chimney, she saw that the inside edges were lined in heavier metal strips.
And there, attached to one side, was a steel box with a lock on it.
Her heart stuttered. Stealing had often been a game to Charlie, one where her cleverness was pitted against that of the person who’d hidden the prize. Solving their puzzle was the goal, and the thrill. But as her hands reached for the box, what she felt was uneasiness. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness itself was watching her, waiting to strike.
Charlie pulled the box free, sending two of the magnets falling down the flue. They made a clanging sound that she hoped wasn’t amplified inside.
