Free Coven by David Barnett

some papers from his sports
jacket. “These are some additional credit card invoices. Lots of
jewelry purchases and restaurant tabs from the same places on the
invoices there.”
    Jervis looked at the invoices in the folder.
They all had recent dates. “What’s the difference between these and
the invoices in your hand?”
    Czanek hesitated. “The invoices in my hand
go back six months.”
    Jervis stared.
    “ Six months, Mr. Tull. I’m
sorry to have to tell you that.”
    Jervis wanted to die. She’d
been dating Wilhelm six months before she even broke up with
Jervis. Behind his back for six
months. Jervis felt minuscule in his seat,
blackened by a shadow more vast than all the broken hearts in the
world. He must seem pitiful.
    He took out his wallet. “A hundred fifty per
day, right?”
    “ That’s right, plus
ex—”
    Jervis gave him six hundred. “And keep the
retainer for expenses.”
    The money disappeared into Czanek’s jacket
like magic. He left the folder and invoices on the table. “Thank
you very much, Mr. Tull. You have my number in case there’s
anything else I can do.”
    Anything else. Jervis was staring. “What else do you do?”
    Czanek leaned forward. “Let’s just say that
my services are not exclusively limited to the parameters of the
law.”
    Jervis didn’t quite know
what to say. What am I
thinking?
    “ I don’t kill people,”
Czanek said.
    Had that been what Jervis was thinking?
    “ And I don’t break legs.
I’m a P.I., not a thug. Besides, I’d have to be out of my mind to
try anything against that meat-rack. However, there are some things
I can do that you might be—”
    “ I want something…close,”
Jervis said. “I want—”
    Was Czanek smiling? “You want a bug in her
place.”
    A bug? Jervis wondered. “Keep talking, Mr. Czanek.”
    “ I got a great little
wireless crystal, eight hundred foot range. Only problem is it
runs on a battery and the battery only lasts ten days. The crystal
costs a hundred bucks, I charge five hundred to put it in and three
hundred for each battery change. I’ll only change batteries twice,
then I’m out. Too risky.”
    Ten days? That was plenty of time. That was
his whole life.
    “ You can find guys who’ll
do it cheaper, but not better.”
    Jervis nodded. He wasn’t
about to go hunting in the PennySaver. “I don’t have a key to
her dorm anymore, but I got a funny feeling that you’re not
particularly troubled by the inconvenience of locks.”
    “ Don’t worry about locks.
Does she have a burglar alarm?”
    “ No,” Jervis
said.
    “ Then anything she’s got on
her door I go through in two seconds.”
    “ When’s the soonest you can
have it in?”
    “ Tomorrow night,
max.”
    Jervis passed him six more
hundred dollar bills. “Do it,” he said.

    ««—»»

    Jervis drove half drunk back to campus. His
arrangement with Czanek would only lead him to further despair, he
realized, yet he looked forward to it, as a masochist looks forward
to the whip. It didn’t make sense. Why was he pursuing this?
    His driving began to falter. The yellow line
looked like a smear to oblivion. His thoughts spoke to him like an
alter ego, a secret sharer of despair.
    I’m crazy, he thought.
    Of course you are, his thoughts answered. You’re an English major; English majors are crazy to begin
with. It’s all that existential shit they made you read, all that
Sartre and Hegel—what a pile of crap. You took it seriously,
Jervis, you thought it would save you. Jesus Christ, you’ve become
obsessed with this girl. Private investigators? Bugs? It’s crazy.
Your love has made you crazy.
    “ I know,” Jervis whispered
to his id. “I’m crazy, and I still love her. What am I going to
do?”
    The black thoughts seemed
to snicker. Kill them, they said.
    “ Kill them?”
    Kill them. Then kill yourself.

    ««—»»

    Wade’s first day as toilet
cleaner proved as expected: shitty. His clothes reeked of mop
water; it permeated him. Back