Читать книгу White Death - Daniel Blake - Страница 19

If there was a prize for the most striking building in New Haven, Patrese thought, he was standing outside the runaway winner right now.

It was a rectangular box without windows. In their place were panels of white, lightly veined marble framed with pale gray granite. It stood in the middle of a quadrangle on the edges of which glowered edifices in Gothic and Classical styles, as though this box was an alien spaceship that had dared to disturb the old-world tranquility around it. It was Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, and a sign by the main door informed Patrese that this was the largest building in the world reserved exclusively for the preservation of rare books and manuscripts.

Anna Levin, the curator, was waiting for him inside. Patrese was expecting some tweedy old dame with reading spectacles dangling from her neck, and so he almost walked straight past her. Only when she put her hand on his arm did he realize who she was. She had the bright eyes and deep tan of someone who spent as much time as possible outdoors – no mean feat if you worked in this place, Patrese thought – and, like an athlete or a dancer, she walked on the balls of her feet. He’d never have put her as a librarian in a million years. She was this side of dotage, for a start.

When they’d introduced themselves, Anna gestured around her, at the inside of the library. ‘Whadd’ya think? Quite something, huh?’

Quite something indeed, Patrese thought. The marble panels, which from out in the quad had appeared solid, were now revealed to be translucent, almost like blank television screens. They let in a small amount of filtered light: presumably to allow rare books to be displayed without risk of damage.

And in the middle of this enormous space, rising six stories like a monolith from Atlantis, was a glass tower full of books: a shrine to volumes bound in leather of olive green, Mikado yellow, burnt umber, carmine and a hundred other colors besides.

‘I think they’re the most beautiful things in the world,’ Anna said. ‘Books.’

Her office was two stories below ground. She couldn’t offer him coffee or tea, she was afraid – no food or drink allowed, because they couldn’t risk damage to the books. That was fine, Patrese said. Too much caffeine gave him a weird St Vitus dance.

‘I’ve got a whole heap of things to do,’ he said, ‘so I can’t spend too long here. Nothing personal. You know why I’m here?’

‘Something about tarot cards being found at those dreadful murders yesterday.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, listen …’

‘I need hardly tell you that anything I say to you is confidential. We keep a tight lid on information from crime scenes: helps weed out the tons of crank callers you always get.’

‘Sure. Do you know which cards were found?’

‘There were two victims. Regina King, who’s been all over the news …’

‘I know. My sister …’

‘… and a monk from Cambridge, Massachusetts named Darrell Showalter. The Empress was found by her body, the Hierophant by his. Both in the Rider-Waite design.’

Anna nodded. ‘And you want to know what they might mean?’

‘Exactly.’

She steepled her fingers. ‘OK. A bit of background first, if that’s OK. Help you get a sense of context for all this.’

‘If it’s quick.’

‘The reason I got interested in Tarot was from working here. The first known sets of tarot cards in the world were made around 1442 for the Visconti family of Milan. There were three sets, of which we have the very first, the prototype, right here in this building. There were no printing presses at the time, of course, so all the cards had to be hand-painted. That’s why they’re so rare, and so valuable.

‘Tarot cards nowadays are used for two main purposes. One, games, as with conventional playing cards, though this is confined mainly to Europe, particularly France and Italy. Tarot games are almost unknown in English-speaking countries. Two – and this may be more relevant to your investigation – divination, predictions, mapping mental and spiritual pathways, those kind of things. A tarot reader will predict your future according to which cards she draws for you and in which order.’

‘And this does occur in the States? Tarot divination?’

‘Absolutely.’ Anna pulled a Rider-Waite pack out of her drawer. ‘There are seventy-eight tarot cards in all, divided in two main categories. The first is called the major arcana, which means greater secrets. The major arcana consists of twenty-two cards, all without suit.’ She took a handful of cards from the top of the deck and spread them on the desk in front of her. ‘The first twenty-one are numbered. In order – and you’ll recognize the ones you found yesterday – they’re the Magician, the High Priestess, the Empress, the Emperor, the Hierophant, the Lovers, the Chariot, Strength, the Hermit, Wheel of Fortune, Justice, the Hanged Man, Death, Temperance, the Devil, the Tower, the Star, the Moon, the Sun, Judgement, and the World. Unnumbered, or assigned zero, sometimes twenty-two, is the Fool.’

She arranged the remainder of the deck alongside. ‘Second category: minor arcana, the lesser secrets. These are much more like conventional playing cards. They’re divided into four suits: wands, pentacles, cups, swords. Wands correspond to clubs, pentacles to diamonds, cups to hearts, swords to spades. But each tarot suit has fourteen cards rather than thirteen: there’s a Knight which goes between the Queen and the Jack.’

‘But both the cards we’ve found belong to the major arcana?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Then let’s focus on that for now. What do the Empress and the Hierophant signify?’

‘OK.’ Anna handed the Empress card from her deck to Patrese. ‘The Empress is the third card in the major arcana. A mother figure, she’s fertile, sexual, sensual, natural. She’s the Great Goddess, she’s the Queen of Heaven. The scepter represents her power over life. The twelve stars of her crown represent her dominance over the year. See her throne in a field of grain? That’s her dominion over things that grow: food, plants.’

Anna tapped on the Empress’ gown. ‘Pomegranates. In Greek mythology, Hades, lord of the underworld, kidnapped and raped Persephone. Persephone’s mother Demeter, the harvest goddess, stopped every plant from growing for a year until she and Hades came to a deal about Persephone’s fate. But while she was in the underworld, Persephone ate some pomegranate seeds. Anyone who consumed food and drink in the underworld had to stay there – so, even after the deal her mom had struck with Hades, Persephone had to spend part of each year in the underworld.’

Patrese thought of how close Regina and Kwasi had been. ‘Tell me more about the Empress as a mother. What kind of symbolism is there on that?’

‘Oh, a whole heap. The Empress often represents mothers, good and bad. She’s the blood flowing through all living things, which starts in the womb. She’s also the object of desire, the love children feel for their moms.’ Anna flicked her fingers. ‘Tell me something. When you found the card, which way up was it?’

‘Which way up? Er … face up.’

‘No, no: which way was it pointing? In line with the body, or inverted? Was the Empress’ head towards the victim’s head?’

Patrese thought for a moment, trying to recall exactly what he’d seen on the Green. There’d be crime-scene photos against which he could check if necessary, but he wanted to do this himself. Think. Think.

He’d seen the Hierophant first, by Showalter’s corpse, and then gone over to Regina’s body, looking to see whether she had a card too …

‘Inverted,’ he said suddenly. ‘The Empress’ head was facing towards Regina’s feet.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Absolutely. The Hierophant was the right way up, but the Empress was inverted.’

‘An inverted card can mean the opposite of whatever the usual symbolism is. With the Empress, it would be something like she was a bad mother, an unhealthy over-attachment somewhere, that kind of thing. Take the qualities and reverse them. In her usual, positive aspect, the Empress gives, nurtures, celebrates life. In her negative aspect, she takes it, either literally or figuratively.’

Patrese didn’t know what kind of mother Regina had been, but ‘over-attachment’ when it had come to her and Kwasi was pretty much spot on. As to whether that had been unhealthy, who knew? Only she and Kwasi for sure, perhaps. Or not even them. As Patrese knew full well, people in dysfunctional relationships find so many ways of justifying these dysfunctions that they end up not being able to see them at all.

‘OK,’ Patrese said. ‘What about the Hierophant?’

Anna handed him the Hierophant card. ‘This is the fifth card. The word “Hierophant” means “the one who teaches the holy things”. See here. His right hand is performing a blessing: two fingers pointing up, two pointing down. This forms a bridge between heaven and earth. The pillars either side of his throne represent law and liberty: the crossed keys at his feet are the keys to Heaven. The Hierophant represents assistance, friendship, good advice, alliances, marriages, and religious interests. When he’s inverted, that means bad advice, lies, and persecution. If he appears in a spread, it’s a warning to the querent to re-examine their understanding of the meaning of things, of the structure of the world, of the powers-that-be.’

‘A spread? A querent? What are those?’

‘When you do a reading. The querent is the subject, the one who wants to know their future. The spread is how the cards are arranged. There are several different ways, depending on the reader’s skill or preference. Would you like me to show you?’

‘What? Give me a reading? I’m the querent?’

‘Sure.’

‘Thank you, no. I haven’t got time, and in any case I don’t believe in all that stuff.’

‘It would purely be for interest.’

‘No.’ He stood. ‘Thank you. You’ve been helpful.’

‘Might give you an idea as to why the cards are being left there. Might even give you an insight into how best you’ll solve the case. In a reading, some people believe the cards chosen are guided by a spiritual force. Others, like Jung, think the cards help us tap into a collective unconscious.’

Patrese was torn. He really didn’t believe in this stuff, and he really didn’t have time to waste: but if someone was going round killing people and leaving tarot cards by their bodies, shouldn’t he be exploring all possible avenues to help catch that person?

He sat back down again. ‘All right. But only a quick one.’

Anna smiled. ‘Sure. I’ll keep it to the major arcana, twenty-two cards rather than seventy-eight, and give you a simple horseshoe spread rather than some of the more complex ones.’

She took the Empress and Hierophant back from Patrese, cleared away the minor arcana cards, and shuffled the major arcana with a speed and dexterity that wouldn’t have disgraced a Vegas croupier. Then she laid out seven cards, all face down, in a horseshoe.

‘This is just for interest,’ Patrese said.

‘Each card in this pattern means something different,’ Anna replied. He wondered if she’d heard him. ‘The first one’ – she tapped the one to her extreme left – ‘is the past: any events that have already happened which affect your current situation. The second is the immediate present. Self-explanatory. Then the immediate future; also self-explanatory.’ She rested her finger on the fourth card, the middle one. ‘This is what’s occupying your mind: what you’re thinking of, whether you know it or not. The next, the fifth, is the attitudes of others around you. Then there’s the obstacle you must overcome. And finally the outcome, the ending: how the situation will finish. Ready?’

If I don’t believe in all this, Patrese thought, then why do I suddenly feel so nervous?

He swallowed hard. ‘Sure.’

She smiled. ‘OK. This first card is the past.’

She turned it over. Card number VII, the Chariot. A prince in armor sitting in a chariot pulled by two sphinxes, one black and one white.

‘The chariot symbolizes conquest: a battle that can be won if you have the willpower. The battle is usually external, with a clear goal and plan of action. The charioteer fights alone. He succeeds by attacking from the side rather than straight on. To win the battle, you need self-reliance, hard work, and the conviction that you’re right and that you’ll achieve victory no matter the odds. But, but … this can easily tip over into a ruthless desire to win at any cost.’

Patrese thought of the cases he’d pursued in the past. Some of them had gone on for months, and in each one he had at times felt frustrated, depressed, ready to jack it all in; but in the end he’d always kept going, and he’d always gotten a result. He was here now because he’d solved those crimes; he’d solved those crimes because he was good at what he did; and he was good at what he did because he kept plugging away and because he’d try anything to get a breakthrough.

Yes, Patrese thought: he could see how the Chariot card applied to him.

‘Next card,’ Anna said. ‘The immediate present.’

A young man standing blithely on the edge of a cliff. He carried a rose in his left hand and had a hobo’s bindle over his right shoulder. The sun shone; a small white dog played next to him.

Card zero. The Fool.

Patrese clenched the muscles in his jaw. Anna leaned forward and put her hand on his. ‘No, don’t be insulted. The Fool doesn’t mean “idiot”. In Tarot, the Fool is the spirit seeking experience. He represents the mystical intuition within each of us, the childlike ability to tune into the inner workings of the world. Each card in the major arcana can be seen as a point on the Fool’s journey through life. It’s that journey you’re on now. Where it’ll take you – well, who knows, but almost certainly not the place you think.’

Idiot or not, Patrese didn’t like being the Fool. He gestured to the next card.

‘The immediate future,’ Anna said, as she picked up.

Card XVIII. The Moon. The moon itself with a frowning face at the top of the card; great drops of dew falling from the moon to land; two tombstones; a dog and a wolf howling at the moon; a crayfish crawling from the water on to the land; and a path that disappeared into the distant unknown. Despite himself, Patrese shuddered.

‘The moon is tension, doubt, deception, confusion and fear,’ Anna said. ‘It’s sleepless nights and unsettling dreams. The dog and the wolf are our deepest fears: the crayfish hauling itself up from the deep is the base animal nature we try so hard to hide. You must make like the moon itself, Franco. Look at the frown on the face of the moon. Look at the drops of moisture. Look how hard it strives to keep those instincts down.’

Patrese wanted to get up and leave, but he couldn’t: how would it look, a Bureau agent walking out of a tarot reading? If it ever came out, he’d never live it down.

He reminded himself that it was all mumbo jumbo: cards chosen at random, images so old that no one knew any more why they’d been chosen in the first place. It might mean something to Anna, or to the wacko who’d killed Regina and Darrell, but to Patrese – determined, rational, secular Franco Patrese – it meant nothing. Nothing. Didn’t it?

Anna’s hand moved on to the fourth card, the middle one. ‘This is what’s occupying your mind right now,’ she said.

An old man standing in a wasteland. He wore a long hooded robe and a white beard. A lantern in his right hand, a staff in his left. Card IX. The Hermit.

Kwasi, Patrese thought instantly; a man always a step out of sync with the rest of us.

‘This card is introspection, solitude, the search for understanding,’ Anna said. ‘The hermit must withdraw from society to become comfortable with himself; but he must also return from isolation to share his knowledge with others. The hermit can give the insight we need to open a sealed door or conquer the forest beasts. Some say the hermit is the time we learn our true names, when we see who we really are.’

‘Fifth card,’ she said. ‘The attitudes of others.’

A young man in a red robe with a wand held high in his right hand. Above his head was the sign of infinity, a sideways figure of eight looping back endlessly on to itself. On the table in front of him was another wand, a sword, a cup and a pentacle: the four suits of the minor arcana. Flowers bloomed on the ground.

Card I: the Magician. Reversed, inverted. Anna blew through her teeth.

‘An inverted magician … that means there’s a manipulator around. He may appear helpful, but he doesn’t necessarily have your best interests at heart. He may not even be a real person: he may just be your ego, or the intoxication of power.’

Patrese looked at his watch. ‘Can we hurry this up? I have things to do.’

‘Don’t shy from this, Franco. It could be very important for you.’

‘So’s getting back to the incident room. Come on. Sixth card.’

Anna looked at him for a long moment. ‘The obstacle,’ she said eventually, reaching for the penultimate card in line. ‘Something you must overcome to resolve the situation.’

Card IV; the Emperor. An armored king on his throne, with a scepter in his right hand and a ram’s head at the end of each armrest.

‘Absolute power,’ Anna said. ‘Control, discipline, command, order, structure, tradition; also inflexibility. The Emperor symbolizes your desire to rule over your surroundings. You need to accept that some things aren’t controllable, and others may not benefit from being controlled. The emperor’s strength is stability, which brings comfort and self-worth. But his weakness is the risk of stagnation, and the sense of personal entitlement beyond your rights. You must separate one from the other.’

She looked up at Patrese. ‘Tell me. Are you impatient, or are you uncomfortable?’

He started to push his chair back. ‘I have to go.’

‘Sit.’ A sudden flash of steel in her voice. ‘Last one. The final outcome. Surely you want to know how this is going to end?’

He stayed seated. He had a feeling she’d known he would.

‘Last card.’ She rested her fingers on top of it. ‘This is how the situation will end.’

Card XVI. The Tower. Lightning striking a tower and knocking an outsize crown from off its top. Fire at the windows and two men in the foreground, falling head first towards the ground.

If Patrese had thought the Moon card was disturbing, this was another level entirely. There was nothing comforting about the image, nothing whatsoever: just violence and anguish. Even Anna looked a little taken aback.

‘What’s wrong?’ Patrese said.

‘This is … this is the card I fear the most.’

‘Now you tell me.’

‘In order, it comes right after the Devil card. It’s a bad omen. When they play tarot games in Europe, they often leave this one out. The deck we’ve got here, the original one from the fifteenth century, that doesn’t have it either. The Tower is bad, Franco. Bad. Chaos. Impact. Downfall. Failure. Ruin. Catastrophe. You want to know how bad it is? It’s the only card that’s better inverted. That way, you land on your feet.’

Anna took Patrese’s hand again, and this time the fear was in her eyes rather than his.

‘Be careful out there, Franco.’