City of Night

this year already,” Aubrey said sheepishly.
    “No way.”
    “The orphanage desperately needed repairs, so somebody had to step up and fill their soup pot.”
    “Aubrey Picou helping an orphanage ,” Michael said.
    “I’d be obliged if you don’t tell anyone about it. I’ve got a reputation to protect. The old crowd would think I’ve gone soft or senile.”
    “Your secret’s safe with us,” Carson promised.
    Aubrey’s expression brightened. “Hey, what about this—I’ll just give you the money, no loan at all. You use it for whatever you need, and one day when you’re more flush, you don’t give it back to me, you give it to some charily you like.”
    “You think that’ll fool Jesus?” Michael asked.
    “It should,” Aubrey said, pleased with himself. “Anyway, it would be like if I gave a bunch of money to a school for the deaf and the school principal skimmed a little off the top and used the skim to pay for a three-way with two hookers.”
    “Do you follow this?” Michael asked Carson.
    “It’s too metaphysical for me.”
    “The point is,” Aubrey said, “the skim and the hookers wouldn’t be my fault just because I gave money to a school for the deaf.”
    “Instead of paying back what you lend me, you want me to give it to a school for the deaf?” Carson asked.
    “That would be nice. Just remember, what you do with it in the meantime, you have to answer for.”
    “You’ve become a real theologian,” Michael said.
     
     
     

Chapter 18
     
    After the body of William, the butler, and all of his severed fingers had been removed from the mansion by two men from the Hands of Mercy, the head housekeeper, Christine, and the third-floor maid, Jolie, cleaned up the blood in the hallway.
    Erika knew that as the mistress of the house, she should not get down on her knees and help. Victor would not approve.
    Because class distinctions prevented her from assisting, she did not know what to do; therefore, she stood by and watched.
    The blood on the mahogany floor wiped up easily, of course, but Erika was surprised to see it come off the painted wall and out of the antique Persian runner without leaving any visible residue.
    “What’s that spot remover you’re using?” she asked, indicating the unlabeled plastic squeeze bottles with which both Christine and Jolie were armed.
    “Mr. Helios invented it,” Jolie said.
    “He must have made a fortune from it.”
    “It’s never been marketed to the public,” Christine said.
    “He developed it for us,” Jolie revealed.
    Erika marveled that Victor would have time to concoct new household products, considering everything else on his mind.
    “Other spot removers,” Christine explained, “even if they took out all the stain visible to the eye, would leave blood proteins in the carpet fibers that any CSI unit could identify. This expunges everything.”
    “My husband’s very clever, isn’t he?” Erika said, not without some pride.
    “Extremely so,” said Christine.
    “Extremely,” Jolie agreed.
    “I very much want to please him,” Erika said.
    “That would be a good idea,” Jolie said.
    “I think I displeased him this morning.”
    Christine and Jolie glanced meaningfully at each other, but neither replied to Erika.
    She said, “He beat me while we were having sex.” Having dealt with all the bloodstains, Christine directed Jolie to proceed with her morning tasks in the master suite. When she and Erika were alone in the hallway, she said, “Mrs. Helios, excuse me for being so straightforward, but you must not speak about your private life with Mr. Helios in front of anyone on the household staff.”
    Erika frowned. “Shouldn’t I?”
    “No. Never.”
    “Why not?”
    “Mrs. Helios, surely the subject of social deportment was part of your manners-and-etiquette download.”
    “Well, I guess it was. I mean, if you think it should have been.”
    “It definitely should have been. You shouldn’t discuss your sex life with anyone but Mr. Helios.”
    “The thing is, he beat me during sex, even bit me once, and he called me the worst names. I was so ashamed.”
    “Mrs. Helios—”
    “He’s a good man, a great man, so I must have done something terribly wrong to have made him hurt me, but I don’t know what upset him.”
    “You’re doing it again,” Christine said impatiently, “talking about your private life with Mr. Helios.”
    “You’re right, I am. But if you could help me understand what I did to displease