“It would be wonderful to travel around the world. There are so many places I’ve only seen in books or on television.”
“So do it.”
“I don’t have money and plane tickets like you. I’ve never even been to a nice restaurant or a nightclub. Harlequins are the freest people in the world.”
Maya shook her head. “You don’t want to be a Harlequin. If I was free, I wouldn’t be in this city.”
The cell phone in Vicki’s purse began playing the theme from Beethoven’s
“Did you get the package at the airport?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me talk to her.”
Vicki passed the phone over to Maya and listened to the Harlequin say “yes” three times. She switched off the phone and dropped it on the seat of the car.
“Shepherd has my weapons and identification. You’re supposed to go to 489 Southwest-whatever that means.”
“It’s a code. He told me to be careful talking on the cell phone.”
Vicki got a Los Angeles phone book from the backseat and turned to page 489. In the lower left corner-the southwest section of the page-she found an ad for a business called Resurrection Auto Parts. The address was in Marina del Rey, a few miles from the ocean. They left the parking lot and drove west on Washington Boulevard. Maya stared out the window as if she were trying to find landmarks that she could remember.
“Where’s the center of Los Angeles?”
“Downtown, I guess. But not really. There’s no center here, just little communities.”
The Harlequin reached beneath the sleeve of her sweater and adjusted one of her knives. “Sometimes my father would recite a poem by Yeats when we were walking around London.” She hesitated, then spoke softly: “
They drove past shopping malls and gas stations and residential areas. Some of the neighborhoods were poor and shabby with little Spanish-style houses or ranch houses that had flat roofs covered with gravel. In front of each house was a strip of Bermuda grass and a tree or two, usually a palm or a Chinese elm.
Resurrection Auto Parts was on a narrow side street between a T-shirt factory and a tanning salon. On the front of the windowless building someone had painted a cartoon version of God’s hand from the Sistine Chapel. Instead of giving life to Adam, the hand was hovering over a muffler.
Vicki parked across the street. “I can wait for you here. I don’t mind.”
“That’s not necessary.”
They got out of the car and unloaded the luggage. Vicki expected Maya to say “goodbye” or “thank you very much,” but the Harlequin was already focused on this new environment. She glanced up and down the street, evaluating each driveway and parked car, then picked up her bag, camera, and tripod and began to walk away.
“Is that all?”
Maya stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“We’re not going to see each other again?”
“Of course not. You’ve done your job, Vicki. It’s best if you never mention this to anyone.”
Carrying all the luggage with her left hand, Maya crossed the street to Resurrection Auto Parts. Vicki tried not to feel insulted, but angry thoughts pushed through her mind. When she was a little girl, she had heard stories about the Harlequins, about how they were brave defenders of the righteous. Now she had met two Harlequins: Shepherd was an ordinary person, and this young woman, Maya, was selfish and rude.
It was time to go home and prepare dinner for Mother. The Divine Church had prayer service tonight at seven o’clock. Vicki got back in her car and returned to Washington Boulevard. When she stopped at a red light, she thought about Maya walking across the street with the luggage in her left hand. That kept the right hand free. Yes, that was it. Free to draw the sword and kill someone.
Maya avoided the front door of Resurrection Auto Parts. She entered the parking lot and began to circle the building. There was an unmarked emergency door near the back with a diamond Harlequin mark scrawled on the rusty metal. She pulled the door open and entered the building. Smell of oil and cleaning solvent. Sound of distant voices. She was in a room filled with racks of used carburetors and exhaust pipes. Everything was stacked and sorted by make and model. Pulling her sword out a little farther, she moved toward the light. A door was open a few inches, and when she peered through the crack she saw Shepherd and two other men standing around a small table.
They looked surprised when Maya came through the door. Shepherd reached beneath his jacket for a gun, then recognized her and grinned. “There she is! All grown up and very attractive. This is the famous Maya I’ve been telling you about.”
