idea of you telling me how to run this sho—”
“You must trust me.”
She gives him a glare, but gestures to go on.
“I am going to tell you more about what you need to do with this key.” He thinks. “And after that, I will do several things that make no sense to you. They might even seem to be quite silly. Is this acceptable?”
“What part of your crazy fucking head thinks that’s a fair shake?”
He takes another breath. “The things I will be doing will be done for no reason,” he says forcefully. “They will make no sense whatsoever. Neither to you, or to me. They have no bearing on what we are discussing at all. Do you understand?”
Mona looks him over. She worked with criminal informants only a couple of times as a cop, but in those times she became quite aware that double-talk and insinuation are the natural grammar of C.I.’s. Now, listening to Parson describe his plans, she perceives that he is using those same techniques, albeit in the most ridiculous way possible: he cannot even admit that what he is saying could be important, so he must claim that it is wholly unrelated. It’s as if he’s trying to trick himself into talking.
“Okay,” she says.
“All right,” he says again. He looks a little relieved, but he’s sweating prolifically, like his feet are being held over a flame. “You know about Coburn. You know that it is situated on top of the mesa.”
“I also know it’s gone.”
“Nothing is ever truly gone in Wink,” he says. “Everything tends to come back, even if it does not wish to. In the case of the lab, it is still there, though it is empty… but if you should visit it and look at it the right way, I think it might prove otherwise. If not, I am sure there are records within that might help you. But the main door to Coburn is gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” she asks.
“I mean it is buried under several feet of caved-in rock.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“Please do not interrupt,” he says. “You need to listen, not speak.”
“Jesus.”
“That door is gone, but there are many other doors that lead to Coburn. There is one door in particular we can consider.”
“And where can I find this door?”
He shuts his eyes, as if envisioning it. Sweat is pooling in the wrinkles around his cheeks. “There is a road that leads out of Wink,” he says hoarsely. “It climbs high, high up, up to the mesa. It is the only road that does so. Take this road, but as you travel you must look at the fencing alongside it. There will be a stretch that is black and mangled as if it has been burned. At one point there will be a break in the fencing. It will look like there is nothing exceptional beyond this gap—more rocks, more scrub, more wilderness—but it is lying to you. It is the start of another road. Follow it, carefully. It winds around the mesa, through rocks and trees and gullies, and… and some things I cannot describe. Keep going. Eventually, you should find a door where none belongs. That is the door to Coburn. The back door.”
“And am I going to find the same things in Coburn as I did in Weringer’s house?” asks Mona.
“I have never been to Coburn, so I cannot say,” Parson tells her. “I honestly have no idea what is waiting for you there. But if any place holds answers, it lies atop that mesa.”
“Why haven’t you looked yourself?”
He smiles sourly at her.
“Ah,” she says. “It’s not permitted, is it. It seems you’re not allowed to do much, Mr. Parson. I bet you chafe something awful.”
He shrugs. Mona looks at him for a long time. His speech appears to have horribly strained him. “It sounds to me,” says Mona, “like this is mighty dangerous.”
His brow declines in the slightest of nods.
“And you seem to know a lot about it,” she says. “So why don’t you come with me, so I don’t get my dumb ass killed?”
Parson is still as a stone.
“Why not, Mr. Parson? Why don’t you and I hop in the car and take a road trip?”
“I cannot,” he whispers.
“I know you’re not permitted and all, but I’m the one who’s going to have my goddamned life at stake, so the least you can do is come with me. You’re trying to help in your own way, but to be frank it