Enter…The Ghoul Squad–Part Va: P.

[We're still waiting on Anenome's post. In the meantime, I'll continue with our story.]

Ghoul Squad Roll Call:

P.
Pepper Weckelsby (secretary)

Iliana’s apartment wasn’t too far away, and the weather was so beautiful, we decided to walk. This gave us a chance to clear our heads, get some fresh air and formulate our game plan. The planning didn’t take very long. Both of us shared classes with Iliana. I took Russian lit. with her and she and Pepper had some journalism class together. While neither of us really knew her, our experience told us that getting her to talk would not be a problem. Getting her to stop talking or to keep to the topic at hand would be far more challenging.

Our planning session completed, I got to spend the rest of our walk gazing at Pepper without trying to be too obvious about it. One of life’s greatest pleasures is to watch Pepper Weckelsby walk down the street on a sunny day. My spirits fell as she mentioned Renaldo, her fiancee. Was this just what she had on her mind or did she sense my interest and intend this as a subtle reminder that her heart belonged to another? She said that he was out of the country researching Peruvian accounting practices. He said that he was taking plenty of pictures and she was very excited about this.

We reached an impressive apartment building on Robinson Ave. Pepper’s eyes lit up.

“I thought I had recognized the address! This building was once the home of Luce Hadden, otherwise known as ‘the Gentleman Ghoul’! I’ll tell you more on the way back!”

We entered the elevator and were greeted by an older man and a young Japanese woman who would later become a great friend of Pepper’s. They were both in elevator operator uniforms.

“I hope you don’t mind,” the older man began “but I’m training a new employee today. Would it be all right if Yuka served as your elevator operator today? I can assure you she’s been through all of the required classes. She has an internship at the 株式会社そごう department store coming up this summer. And I will be present at all times. But if you’re not comfortable with that arrangement, I would be happy to transport you myself.”

I grew a little impatient as we slowly ascended to the 14th floor, but Pepper seemed quite excited at the novelty of the operators. She whistled “Come on, ghost” by the Pillows. I wasn’t sure how much to tip. I hope it was an appropriate amount.

Iliana greeted us warmly, offering each of us a tumbler of vodka. She was dressed quite provocatively, in a revealing nightgown and high heels. It was clear that she had already been drinking that evening. Before we could sit down, she told us exactly what she thought of us, as if reading off a checklist.

“P.! Your poetry is juvenile and without passion. Your insights into Russian literature might have some merit if you would read the works in their original language rather than the hideous ‘translations’ of Constance Garnett.”* After pronouncing the name she spat on the floor. “Perhaps someday I could teach you something about the Russian mind and of …. passion.” She moved closer to me. It’s possible she was coming on to me. I’m still not certain.

“Pepper! Your painting is worthless. Stop wasting your time on it. You have great journalistic instincts, however. Pehaps I could help you with your … investigations.” She raised an eyebrow. I’m fairly certain she was coming on to Pepper. She attempted to edge up to Pepper suavely. Her suaveness was derailed by two items. Her spittle on the floor from the Constance Garnett comment and her high-heeled slippers.** Pepper and I managed to catch her in time.

Pepper got out her notebook and began: “Can you..”

“Ah yes, the night of the shooting.” Iliana interrupted. “I was backstage with Harriet. The amateurs onstage were so pathetic. Barbershop quartets? No wonder you Americans cannot produce a decent opera! The skiffle band led my that lecherous British buffoon?! I had to stuff my ears with cotton! And that Amy Greathouse! Her so-called ‘interpretive dance’ is more suited to the monkey-house at the zoo, filled with monkeys, rather than..”

I could not bear any more of this. “Ms. Chaikovskaya!” I broke in. “I have had quite enough. I enjoyed Amy’s performance a great deal and even if I had not, she is a friend of mine and I will not permit you to speak about her in this manner!” I had expected Iliana to react quite antagonictically to this outburst. On the contrary, she smiled and seemed to regard me in a curious way. “Now,” I asked. “Who else was in the backstage area?”

“When we arrived, it was only the two security guards. No,” she corrected herself, “at first, just the one. The bearded one with the gut. He kept staring at me. All men do. Then the younger, thin one arrived soon after we did. He looked a little confused, unsure of himself. All men feel this way in my presence. He looked like he was trying to get Harriet’s attention, but she was absorbed in her preperations. She does not like to be disturbed before she goes onstage.”

“Then that idiot Betel woman and her idiot son came in to talk with Harriet. She spoke with Harriet in hushed tones as the boy sulked next to me on the sofa. Jan Betel thought no one could hear what they were saying, but I could hear. She was attempting to romance Harriet.”

“Harriet said ‘I’m not interested in women.’ I yelled from the couch “I am interested in women!” This surprised the Betel woman. Harriet made more excuses. This was just to get rid of the Betel woman. I can assure you that Harriet is interested in women. “

“Then that idiot Serious arrived to further interrupt her. I was leaving the room when I heard the gunshot. I ran toward the backstage area and ran into Serious. You know the rest.”

“Did you see a glowing hand or anything of the sort?” Pepper asked.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? Of course I didn’t see a glowing hand.”

Before we left, Pepper made a sketch of ‘Radish’ based on Iliana’s description. “Hm.” said Pepper. “He looks a little familiar. Maybe he’s a student as well.”

We left more confused than ever. We decided to take a cab home. Pepper regaled me with lurid tales of Luce Hadden and I thought of bread and cheese.***

*While I have yet to learn Russian, I did take Iliana’s advice and get rid of my Garnett translations. Best move I ever made in terms of Russian lit.
** Perhaps the vodka she was drinking contributed as well.
*** I was getting hungry.