Ashes of Yesterday

Chapter 22

She was standing by a window when Flix entered the room. The ceilings were tall, making her look like a doll in a fanciful dollhouse setting. The walls and furnishings were a sea of light blues and grays. Albany looked as cool as her surroundings. Not a hair out of place. She stood regal and elegant, and the only movement Flix noticed was the batting of her long lashes.

"Hello, Mr. Flix," she said, her voice sounding like the clear ring of fine crystal. "You have been injured. Is it serious?"

"No," said Flix, brushing his hand unconsciously across his forehead. "It's nothing. Just a bit of a scuffle with a goon down at your local police station."

"Police station! You're not in any kind of trouble, are you?"

"No," said Flix. "There was a bit of trouble down there earlier. Suspect wanting to escape. That kind of thing. I just happened to be there at the right time. No one was seriously hurt. Just my nogging and the ceiling. The bullet . . .'

"Bullet!"

"I was going to say the bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling."

"Oh, dear. Mr. Flix. Sit down. Sit down, please. You must tell me what on earth were you doing down at the police station."

"Well," Flix began, "I guess I was looking to assist the local authorities in the Reed Kimball affair."

"Reed Kimball," said Albany.

"Do you know him?" he asked.

"Everybody knows, uh, I mean, knew him," said Albany. "Reed was a gambler. Oh, I know they call him a speculator. But in the end, gambling pretty much describes what Reed did for a living. Alfred is a gambler, too. It's one of the reasons he got into the movie business. It seems I am surrounded by the type."

"Do you like gamblers?" Flix asked.

"My father was one. Three kings against an ace-high straight flush."

"A royal flush."

She sighed. There was a faraway look in her eyes.

"The luck of the draw. One hand can change your whole world," said Albany. "But that's life."

She stepped away from the window. Flix sat down on a couch. Albany took a chair opposite him.

"Yes, Mr. Flix. I knew Reed. He was one of Alfred's friends. The two got along handsomely. They were as close as brothers. They often played cards and did god knows what else together."

She took a cigarette from an ornate box. Offered him one. He lit both.

"When one is in the movie business in this town," she said, "you get to know almost everyone. I sometimes think the allure of fame and fortune is an addiction that few can resist. I guess I'm like everyone else. Wanting to find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. You described growing up as boringly mundane. I could never say that about my life. I started with nothing, and now look."

A delicate hand swept around the room.

"I like nice things. I did not have them when I was growing up. But now, I have anything I desire. Still, they are just that. Things, I mean. And where is the pleasure in them? And was the price worth it?"

Her voice was flat. There was no joy in her words.

"Are you alright, Albany?"

"Perhaps, I am just tired."

She looked at an oleander bloom in the vase nearby.

"Such beauty," she said. "And every part of it is poison. Sometimes, I feel like that. It seems that all I touch withers. But, ha ha, we cannot all have Sato's green thumb. Can we?"