Charlie took the first of the espressos and downed it.
“Um,” Posey said, and turned the phone toward her sister.
Early this morning the Gazette received pages from a journal alleged to be written by Lionel Salt, implicating him in several open investigations, including that of Rose Allaband. Allaband’s body was found in a burnt-out car along with the body of Salt’s grandson, Edmund Carver, over a year ago. Both may have been Salt’s victims. Other cases are likely to be reopened based on information in the pages, including Randall Grigoras, Ankita Eswaran, and Hector Blanco. Not only does the journal include detailed accounts of their deaths, but drawings of medical experiments conducted on their shadows.
Handwriting examiners were able to confirm with 98 percent confidence that the writing in the journal was consistent with samples of Salt’s handwriting that the Gazette had obtained. We reached out to Salt’s representatives for comment, but we haven’t heard back at this time.
“You did this to Lionel Salt?” Posey said, astonished. “How?”
When Charlie had opened the safe, she’d only been expecting to find the Liber Noctem, but there had been something else in there too. A notebook, from which a few pages had been torn out.
It couldn’t be too often that the Hampshire Gazette got a scoop like that.
Charlie took her second shot of espresso, and then the third. “I didn’t do it to him. He did it to himself.”
* * *
That Sunday, Charlie showed up for her shift at Rapture. Her mind wasn’t in it, though, and she kept having to ask people to repeat their drink orders. She dropped two wineglasses and set an entire highball of absinthe on fire, instead of just the sugar cube. That glass broke too, and in a much more dramatic way.
Partway through her shift, Odette pulled her aside. She thought it was going to be to scold her or ask her about a missing red pantsuit, but instead it was to introduce her to the new bartender, the one taking José’s ex’s shifts. Charlie was surprised to see Don.
“Hey,” he said. “Top Hat got a new manager and I decided I could use a change of scenery.”
“Well, this place is that,” Charlie told him, and proceeded to walk him through what things were put where, how to use the register, and how many dry ice pellets to float on a drink.
“They swallow it, we get a lawsuit,” she told him.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have it on the menu?” Don suggested.
“It’s going to take you a minute to get the vibe of this place,” Charlie predicted.
Around closing time, Balthazar came to the bar. “Pour us a last drink. Whatever you’re having,” he told her.
“Oh, I’m drinking too?” She smiled.
“If I were you, I would be.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Took down the brand-new Laphroaig 15, opened it, and poured them both two fingers.
“So, your guy,” he said.
Charlie nodded. “I guess you heard. Quite a thing.”
“Does this mean you’re back in business?” he asked.
She shrugged. “After the spectacle I made of myself, I should probably lay low for a while.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The Charlatan’s reputation is at an all-time high,” he said, taking a sip of his drink and then wincing. “Ugh, this tastes like someone poured gasoline over a tire, set it on fire, and then put the fire out with dirt.”
Odette made her way over and sat down next to Balthazar. “Having some cocktails, are we? Well, don’t leave me out.”
“You can have mine,” Balthazar said, passing his drink over. “Please.”
Odette accepted it without complaint. Charlie poured Balthazar amaretto instead, which he took gratefully.
“You see the news?” he asked Odette.
“About Lionel?” Odette made a disgusted sound. “The funny thing is that I always knew he was a sadist, and a bit of a narcissist. But interesting and, I thought, self-aware. You can know who someone is, and still have no idea of how far they will go. I thought I understood his limits, and now I have to ask myself if it was because I didn’t want the discomfort of realizing he had none.”
Charlie took a sip of her drink and wondered about her own limits.
“Now they’re saying he might be responsible for the death of Fiona’s sweet boy.”
“Edmund Carver,” Balthazar said, enunciating each syllable, his gaze going to Charlie.
“I thought his mother’s name was Kiara,” Charlie said.