The Museum of Desire: An Alex Delaware Novel(84)

“You went over to the party house Saturday morning close to three a.m., heard two adults talking, heard them drive away.”

“I went over intending…”

“To shit on the property.”

“Ha. Hahaha. Haha. Ha.” Nasal, barking laughter continued to burst from his skimpy mouth. Impersonal, like rounds from an automatic weapon. “Hahaha. Haha. Hahahah. Did I tell you I shit?”

“You said you didn’t.”

“Ha. I did. Not on the property. On the road. I found leaves for wiping.”

His smile was unsettling. Dealt a tough hand but he’d chosen to be mean.

I stayed silent.

He said, “You’re disgusted with me.”

“I didn’t see it or smell it, Crispin, so not really.”

His head whipped toward me. “Are you ridiculing me?”

“Same answer as the first time you asked.”

He pouted. “Alexander Dumas paid other writers to write for him.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re his namesake and you didn’t bother to learn about him?”

“Nope.”

“That is inappropriate,” he said. “When you have a name, you need to learn about it. ‘Crispin’ means ‘curly-haired.’ Haley didn’t know that, she just liked the sound of it, like you, she’s not curious. Saint Crispin is the patron of shoemakers. Saint Bernard is the patron of mountaineers. ‘Bernard’ means ‘bear-like.’ Haley didn’t know that. She named me after her grandfather. Milo Bernard is bear-like. Bernard fits him but not me. That makes me feel inauthentic. I’m more fox-like. I should be named Reynard. I looked up the origin of Milo. There are two opinions. It could be derived from a German word meaning ‘to pulverize’ or it could be Slavonic for ‘merciful.’ Milo Bernard looks more like a pulverizer than a merciful person. I didn’t know anything about Slavonic. I looked it up. It’s an Orthodox Christian church language. That’s esoteric. I felt better about not knowing, I can’t know everything though I try. At this moment, I’m satisfied with myself that I had the authority to summon you and you arrived. Are you intensely interested in what I’m going to tell you?”

“I’m here.”

“That is inferential not a direct answer.”

“I’m extremely interested.”

He stared at the aquarium and bloodied another cuticle. Suddenly he sprang up and tapped the glass hard. The fish scattered.

He sat back down. “The clown trigger was about to bite the dorsal fin of the heniochus. I can tell from the look in the clown trigger’s eyes and the way his body orients when he’s preparing to attack. When I see that, I scare him. That’s why I’m here watching. I plan to be here until the behavior is eliminated.”

I said, “Deconditioning.”

“Re-education,” he said. “Like Mao Tse-tung told the Chinese to do. He never bathed, just swam. He took young girls to an island called Hammer Island and raped them.”

I said, “Nice guy.”

“I read his red book, it’s inane but inane people still follow him.”

He hiked his knees to his chin. “The minor lie I told you was about not shitting, the major lie I told you is I didn’t see details. I did. They both wore dark clothes. He was tall with light hair. She was medium-sized with dark hair. I also lied when I said I didn’t see their car. I did. It was a white Rolls-Royce. He drove, she was on the passenger side. I thought they were spoiled-brat parents, driving a car like that, spoiled imbeciles breeding other spoiled imbeciles. I’m rich but I’ve developed independently because people don’t like me so I do what I want and think comprehensively.”

“What else do you want to tell me about the people in the Rolls?”

He pouted, unhappy at the topic shifting away from him. “Who says anything?”

“It’s up to you to say.”

“And I will,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I? Initially, they drove north then a few minutes later they came back down. I was on the side of the road wiping with leaves. That’s when I got a better look at them. They kept going south until I couldn’t see their taillights anymore. South is toward Beverly Hills, that confirmed my hypothesis.”

“Makes sense. This is extremely helpful, Crispin.”

“Because it adds to your data bank or because it confirms a prior hypothesis of yours?”

“Sorry, I can’t get into details.”

Surprisingly, no reaction to the refusal. Just the opposite; he created a near-smile. “It’s extremely helpful.”

“It is.”

“Love that love it love that. So I will be called to testify if you apprehend them based on my information and they’re taken to trial rather than settle with a plea.”

“We’re a long way from that, Crispin.”

“I understand that,” he said. “But given those contingencies, will I be called?”

“You want to testify?”

“Very much so. So I will be invited?”

“It’s complicated,” I said. “You’re a minor, your parents would need to—”

“By that time I likely will have reached majority and Haley and him will have nothing to say about it. Will I be allowed?”