where the painting of Woody and the deer, the family of deer, waited to be finished.
Everyone stood hand in hand throughout the house.
The dogs pressed against their people’s legs.
Now Woody did what Bella had done for him, what she had showed him how to do for others.
He did what only Woody alone in all the world could do for other human beings.
To all the people assembled, Woody gave the gift and the burden of the Wire.
Had there been people present not gifted, the house would have seemed to them eerily silent but for the storm that beat on the roof and windows.
But to those who had received, the house was filled with joyful greetings and excited conversations.
Even one who was deaf to all of those voices would nevertheless have sensed the wonder and emotion swelling from heart to heart to heart.
Later, when the rain passed, all the visitors would return to their homes in distant places.
Something was happening out there.
For the foreseeable future, the best thing the Mysterium and their beloved companions could do was wait and let it happen.
128
With the windshield wipers beating like drums in a funeral cortege and the darkness suggestive of the grave, Verbotski drove from the Bookman house to the Oxley place, where they’d left their luggage and Charles Oxley’s corpse.
He’d wanted Rodchenko to ride in the front passenger seat, where he could keep an eye on him. But the bastard would have none of that. He obviously worried about being garroted from behind or otherwise wasted.
Speer rode shotgun, and Rodchenko sat in back with Knacker.
“If they drained our computers and sent all that shit to whoever, then we can’t go back to Reno, we’re finished,” Knacker said, because he was the stupidest among them.
“We’re not finished,” Verbotski disagreed. “Each of us has his getaway stash, plus offshore accounts, alternate identities. We fly out of Sacramento to four different cities. Change our appearance. Meet in Miami a month from today. We start over and build something bigger and better than what we lost.”
“Damn right,” said Speer. “And a year from now, when nobody’s expecting us, we go back to Pinehaven and kill that slut and her snarky kid.”
“Something weird was going on there, all those dogs, something strange,” Verbotski said. “Better we stay away from there forever.”
Speer said nothing. Neither did Rodchenko.
Knacker said, “I like Miami. Sun, sand, nookie.”
Trying to sound as if he were still a partner in good standing, referring to the four other principals in Atropos, Rodchenko said, “We better warn the guys in Reno, so they can scatter, too.”
Verbotski said, “Fuck ’em. We only need four to start up again. They were all later add-ons, anyway.”
“You can’t launch a new operation,” Speer said, “if it’s top-heavy with profit-sharing talent.”
“Exactly,” Verbotski agreed. “Initially, we’ll be eaten alive by start-up costs, monthly overhead. We need to achieve a reliable cash flow that meets expenses and provides adequate compensation for six before we think about bringing in a fifth partner.”
Speer sighed. “No rest for the wicked. You realize how much harder it would be to do this if we paid income taxes?”
“We’d be working for the man all our lives,” Verbotski said.
At the Oxley house, they parked in the driveway and entered by the front door. On the way through the house, Verbotski made sure each of the thermostats—in the living room, bedroom, kitchen—was on Heat instead of Cool and that each temperature-control slide was set at forty degrees, to prevent a premature detonation. The current temperature in the house was sixty-eight.
In the kitchen, Verbotski said, “Rodchenko, you and I will get everyone’s gear out of here. Knacker, Speer, go to the cellar and finish setting up the oil furnace to blow like we planned.”
Knacker grimaced. “Why? The old fart’s dead as dead gets, we can’t kill him twice. After what’s happened, the faster we split, the better.”
“Speer,” Verbotski said, “Can you explain it to him?”
He worried that Speer would agree with Knacker; but the creepy snake handler came through. “We may be on the run, Bradley, but we aren’t on the run from killing the old man down there. So let’s keep it that way, let’s not add that to our shit-we’re-wanted-for list. We leave here, the furnace blows, the house burns to the ground, there’s only bones left of the geezer, and no evidence of nothing.”
“Okay, all right,” Knacker said. “Let’s get it done. But I’m gonna kick that old bastard around some.”