The Face

Fric?”
        Fric had never heard this voice before. No one on the staff. Definitely a stranger.
        Most of the people in the house didn’t know that Fric was in the train room, and no one outside the estate could possibly know.
        “How do you know about the trains?”
        The man said, “Oh, I know lots of things other people don’t. Just like you, Fric. Just like you.”
        The talented hairs on the back of Fric’s neck did impressions of scurrying spiders.
        “Who are you?”
        “You don’t know me,” the man said. “When does your father return from Florida?”
        “If you know so much, why don’t you tell me?”
        “December twenty-fourth. In the early afternoon. Christmas Eve,” the stranger said.
        Fric wasn’t impressed. Millions of people knew his old man’s whereabouts and his Christmas plans. Just a week ago, Ghost Dad had done a spot on Entertainment Tonight, talking about the film that he was shooting and about how much he looked forward to going home for the holidays.
        “Fric, I’d like to be your friend.”
        “What’re you, a pervert?”
        Fric had heard about perverts. Heck, he’d probably met hundreds of them. He didn’t know all the things they might do to a kid, and he wasn’t exactly sure what thing they liked most to do, but he knew [101] they were out there with their collections of kids’ eyeballs, wearing necklaces made out of their victims’ bones.
        “I have no desire to hurt you,” said the stranger, which was no doubt what any pervert would have said. “Quite the opposite. I want to help you, Fric.”
        “Help me do what?”
        “Survive.”
        “What’s your name?”
        “I don’t have a name.”
        “Everyone has to have a name, even if it’s just one, like Cher or Godzilla.”
        “Not me. I’m only one among multitudes, nameless now. There’s trouble coming, young Fric, and you need to be ready for it.”
        “What trouble?”
        “Do you know of a place in your house where you could hide and never be found?” the stranger asked.
        “That’s a weird-ass question.”
        “You’re going to need a place to hide where no one can find you, Fric. A deep and special secret place.”
        “Hide from who?”
        “I can’t tell you that. Let’s just call him the Beast in Yellow. But you’re going to need a secret place real soon.”
        Fric knew that he should hang up, that it might be dangerous to play along with this nutball. Most likely he was a pathetic pervert loser who got lucky with a phone number and would sooner or later start with the dirty talk. But the guy might also be a sorcerer who could cast a spell long distance, or he might be an evil psychologist who could hypnotize a boy over the telephone and make him rob liquor stores and then make him turn over all the money while clucking like a chicken.
        Aware of those risks and many more, Fric nevertheless stayed on the line. This was by far the most interesting phone conversation he’d ever had.
        [102] Just in case this guy with no name happened to be the one from whom he might need to hide, Fric said, “Anyway, I’ve got bodyguards, and they carry submachine guns.”
        “That’s not true, Aelfric. Lying won’t get you anything but misery. There’s heavy security on the estate, but it won’t be good enough when the time comes, when the Beast in Yellow shows up.”
        “It is true,” Fric deceitfully insisted. “My bodyguards are former Delta Force commandos, and one of them was even Mr. Universe before that. They can for sure kick major ass.”
        The stranger didn’t respond.
        After a couple seconds, Fric said, “Hello? You there?”
        The man spoke in a whisper now. “Seems like I have a visitor, Fric. I’ll call you again later.” His whisper subsided to a murmur that Fric had to strain to hear. “Meanwhile, you start looking for that deep and special hiding place. There’s not much time.”
        “Wait,” Fric said, but the line went dead.

CHAPTER 14
        
        GUN READY, MUZZLE UP, CHAMBER BY HALL by chamber, through Dunny Whistler’s nautilus apartment, Ethan came to the bedroom.
        One nightstand lamp had been left on. Against the headboard of the Chinese sleigh bed, decorative silk pillows fashioned from cheongsam fabrics had been artfully arranged by the housekeeper.
        Also on the bed, cast off with evident