Fevre Dream Page 0,24

You should of lissened."

Raymond reached under Johnston's slouchy hat and got a good grip on his hair, jerking his head back to expose his thick red neck. Alain laughed and tore Johnston's throat out with his teeth. Then the others closed in.

Sour Billy Tipton reached back and pulled his knife and sauntered over to the two niggers. "Come on," he said, "Mister Julian don't need you tonight, but you two ain't goin' to be running off no more. Down to the cellar. Come on, be quick about it, or I'll leave you here with them." That got them moving right proper, as Sour Billy knew it would.

The cellar was small and dank. You had to go through a trap door under a rug to get to it. The land around here was too wet for a proper cellar, but this cellar wasn't proper. Two inches of standing water covered the floor, the ceiling was so low a man couldn't stand upright, and the walls were green with mold. Sour Billy chained the niggers up good, close enough so that they could touch. He figured that was real nice of him. He brought them a hot dinner, too.

Afterward he made his own dinner and washed it down with what was left of the second bottle of brandy the Johnstons had opened. He was just finishing up when Alain came into the kitchen. The blood had dried on his shirt and there was a burnt black hole where the shot had gone through, but otherwise he looked none the worse for wear. "It's finished," Alain told him. "Julian wants you in the library."

Sour Billy pushed away his plate and went to answer the summons. The dining room badly wanted cleaning, he noted when he passed through. Adrienne and Kurt and Armand were enjoying some wine amid the dim silence there, the bodies-or what was left of them-just feet away. Some of the others were off in the drawing room, talking.

The library was pitch dark. Sour Billy had expected to find Damon Julian alone, but when he entered he saw three indistinct figures in the shadows, two seated, one standing. He couldn't make out who they were. He waited in the door until Julian finally spoke. "In the future, do not ever bring such people into my library," the voice said. "They were filthy. They left a smell."

Sour Billy felt a brief stab of fear. "Yes, sir," he said, facing the chair from which Julian had spoken. "I'm sorry, Mister Julian."

After a moment of silence, Julian said, "Close the door, Billy. Come in. You may use the lamp."

The lamp was made of showy red-stained glass; its flame gave the dusty room the red-brown cast of dried blood. Damon Julian sat in a high-backed chair, his fine long fingers steepled beneath his chin, a faint smile on his face. Valerie sat at his right hand. The sleeve of her gown had gotten torn in the struggles, but she didn't seem to have noticed. Sour Billy thought she was even paler than usual. A few feet away, Jean stood behind another chair, looking guarded and nervous, twisting a big gold ring on his finger.

"Must he be here?" Valerie asked Julian. She glanced at Billy briefly, contempt in her big purple eyes.

"Why, Valerie," Julian replied. He reached out and took her hand. She trembled and pressed her lips together tightly. "I brought Billy to reassure you," Julian continued.

Jean gathered up his courage and stared right at Sour Billy, frowning. "This Johnston had a wife."

So that was it, Sour Billy thought. "You scared?" he asked Jean mockingly. Jean was not one of Julian's favorites, so it was safe to taunt him. "He had a wife," Billy said, "but it ain't nothin' to worry over. He never talked to her much, never told her where he was goin' or when he'd be back. She ain't goin' to be comin' after you."

"I do not like it, Damon," Jean grumbled.

"What about the slaves?" Valerie demanded. "They've been gone two years. They said things to the Johnstons, dangerous things. They must have talked to others as well."

"Billy?" Julian said.

Sour Billy shrugged. "I expect they told stories to every damn nigger between here and Arkansas," he said. "It don't worry me none. Just a pack of nigger stories, ain't nobody goin' to believe it."

"I wonder," said Valerie. She turned to Damon Julian, pleading. "Damon, please. Jean is right. We have been here too long. It is not safe. Remember what they did