im！ Take him with me。 I swear won't let him escape me。 I'll take him； and show him。〃 〃Show him what？〃 No answer came。 In its place； she sighed； stretching a little； and moving her head from left to right and back again。 With a shock of recognition Marty realized that he was still watching her repeat Mamoulian's movements： that ail the time the European had been asleep； and now； his energies repleted； he was preparing to wake。 He snapped his previous question out again； determined to have an answer to his last； vital inquiry。
〃Show him what？〃 〃Hell；〃 Mamoulian said。 〃He cheated me！ He squandered all my teachings； all my knowledge； threw it away for greed's sake； for power's sake； for the life of the body。 Appetite！ All gone for appetite。 All my precious love； wasted！〃 Marty could hear； in his litany； the voice of the puritan…monk's voice； perhaps？…the rage of a creature who wanted the world purer than it was and lived in torment because it saw only filth and flesh sweating to make more flesh； more filth。 What hope of sanity in such a place？ Except to find a soul to share the torment； a lover to hate the world with。 Whitehead had been such a partner。 And now Mamoulian was being true to his lover's soul： wanting； at the end； to g0 into death with the only other creature he had ever trusted。 〃We'll go to nothing 。 。 。〃 he breathed； and the breath was a promise。 〃All of us； go to nothing。 Down！ Down！〃 He was waking。 There was no time left for further questions； however curious Marty was。
〃Carys。〃 〃Down！ Down！〃 〃Carys！ Can you hear me？ e out of him！ Quickly！〃 Her head rolled on her neck。
〃Carys！〃 She grunted。
〃Quickly！〃 In Mamoulian's head the patterns had begun again； as enchanting as ever。 Spurts of light that would bee pictures in a while； she knew。 What would they be this time？ Birds； flowers； trees in blossom。 What a wonderland it was。
〃Carys。〃 The voice of someone she had once known was calling her from some very distant place。 But so were the lights。 They were resolving themselves even now。 She waited； expectantly； but this time they weren't memories that burst into view…〃Carys！ Quickly！〃 …they were the real world； appearing as the European opened his lids。 Her body tensed。 Marty reached for her hand； and seized it。 She exhaled； slowly； the breath ing out as a thin whine between her teeth； and suddenly she was awake to her imminent danger。 She flung her thought out of the European's head and back across the miles to Kilburn。 For an agonized instant she felt her will falter； and she was falling backward； back into his waiting head。 Terrified； she gasped like a stranded fish while her mind fought for propulsion。
Marty dragged her to a standing position； but her legs buckled。 He held her up with his arms wrapped around her。
〃Don't leave me；〃 he whispered into her hair。 〃Gentle God； don't leave me。〃 Suddenly； her eyes flickered open。
〃Marty；〃 she mumbled。 〃Marty。〃 It was her： he knew her look too well for the European to deceive him。
〃You came back；〃 he said。
They didn't speak for several minutes； simply held on to each other。 When they did talk； she had no taste for retelling what she'd experienced。 Marty held his curiosity in check。 It was enough to know they had no Devil on their backs。
Just old humanity； cheated of love； and ready to pull down the world on its head。
63
So perhaps they had a chance of life after all。 Mamoulian was a man； for all his unnatural faculties。 He was two hundred years old； perhaps； but what were a few years between friends？
The priority now was to find Papa and warn him of what Mamoulian intended； then plan as best they could against the European's offensive。 If Whitehead wouldn't help； that was his prerogative。 At least Marty would have tried； for old times〃 sake。 And in the light of the murder of Charmaine and Flynn； Whitehead's crimes against Marty diminished to sins of discourtesy。 He was easily the lesser of two evils。
As to the how of finding Whitehead； the only lead Marty had was the strawberries。 It had been Pearl who'd told him that Old Man Whitehead had never let a day go by without strawberries。 Not in twenty years； she'd claimed。 Wasn't it possible； then； that he'd continued to indulge himself； even in hiding？ It was a slender line of inquiry。 But appetite； as Marty had so recently learned； was at the crux of this conundrum。
He tried to persuade Carys to e with him； but she was wrung out to the point of collapse。 Her journeys； she said； were over； she'd seen too much for one day。 All she wanted now was the sunshine island； and on that point she would not be moved。 Reluctantly； Marty left her to her fix； and went off to discuss strawberries with Mr。 Halifax of Holborn。
Left alone； Carys found forgetfulness very quickly。 The sights she had witnessed in Mamoulian's head were dismissed to the dim past from which they'd e。 The future； if there was to be one； was ignored here； where there was only tranquility。 She bathed under a sun of nonsenses； while outside a soft rain began。
XII The Fat Man Dances
64
Breer didn't mind the change in the weather。 It was altogether too sultry on the street； and the rain； with its symbolic cleansing； made him feel more fortable。 Though it was many weeks since he'd felt the least spasm of pain； he did itch in the heat。 Not even an itch really。 It was a more fundamental irritation： a crawling sensation on or beneath his skin that no ointment allayed。 The drizzle seemed to subdue it a measure； however； for which he was grateful。 Either the rain； or the fact that he was going to see the woman he loved。 Though Carys had attacked him several times （he wore the wounds like trophies） he forgave her her trespasses。 She understood him better than anyone else。 She was unique…a goddess； despite her body hair…and he knew that if he could only see her again； display himself for her； touch her； all would be well。
But first he had to get to the house。 It had taken him a while to find a taxi that would stop for him； and when one obliged the driver only took him part of the way before telling him to get out because； he claimed； the smell was so repulsive he wouldn't be able to get another fare all day。 Shamed by this all…too…public rejection…the taxi driver harangued him from his cab as he drove away…Breer took to the back streets； where he hoped he wouldn't be sneered and sniggered at。
It was in one such backwater； just a few minutes〃 walk from where Carys was waiting for him； that a young man with blue swallows tattooed on his neck stepped out of a doorway to offer the Razor…Eater some assistance。
〃Hey； man。 You look sick； you know that？ Let me lend you a hand。〃 〃No； no；〃 Breer grunted； hoping the Good Samaritan would leave him alone。 〃I'm fine； really。〃 〃But I insist；〃 Swallows said； picking up his pace to overtake Breer； then standing in the Razor…Eater's way。 He glanced up and down the road to check for witnesses before pushing Breer into the doorway of a bricked…up house。
〃You keep your mouth shut； man；〃 he said； whipping out a knife and pressing it to Breer's bandaged throat； 〃and you'll be OK。 Just empty your pockets。 Quick！ Quick！〃 Breer made no move to ply。 The suddenness of the attack had disoriented him； and the way the youth had seized his splinted neck had made him giddy。 Swallows pushed the knife a little way into the bandaging to make his point clear。 The victim smelled bad； and the thief wanted the job over and done with as soon as possible。
〃Pockets； man！ You deaf？〃 He pushed the knife deeper。 The man didn't flinch。 〃I'll do it； man；〃 the thief warned； 〃I'll slit your fucking throat。〃 〃Oh；〃 said Breer； unimpressed。 More to quiet the tick than out of fear； he rummaged in the pocket of his coat and found a handful of possessions。 Some coins； a few peppermints that he'd continued to suck until his saliva supply dried up； and a bottle of aftershave。 He proffered them with faint apology on his rouged face。
〃That all you've got？〃 Swallows was outraged。 He tore open Breer's coat。
〃Don't；〃 the Razor…Eater suggested。
〃Bit hot to be wearing a coat； isn't it？〃 said the thief。 〃What are you hiding？〃 The butt