Mr. Clarinet

"So their minds associated a certain behavioral pattern with a certain code? Like a reaction—like that dog that got taught to sit up and salivate whenever it heard a bell ringing—Pavlov's dog?"

"That's exactly it—conditioning," Eloise said.

"And let me guess: the perverts used the codes to keep the kids in line?"

"Yes." Eloise nodded. "The Clarinette codes induced Pavlovian reactions. The clients play a certain set of codes to get what they want out of their child. For example, if they want full sexual compliance, they play a disc where the codes run backwards. If they want the child to be on his or her best behavior in front of adult company, they'd play a disc where re is the dominant note. You get the picture?"

"In Technicolor," Max mumbled disgustedly. He looked at Paul and felt his gaze buried deep behind the shadows in his sockets. He sensed waves of rage coming off him. He turned back to Eloise. "You used that zombie potion too, didn't you?"

"How did you know?"

"Got it all on tape," Max said.

"Tape? Where did you find it?" She looked worried.

"It doesn't matter. Answer my questions: zombie juice—why was it used?"

"To keep the children docile and receptive to conditioning. It's easier to manipulate a stupefied mind. Clients are provided with bottles of the solution to use at home. It was part of the deal," she said.

Max shook his head and then rubbed his temples. He needed to stop—stop hearing this, stop being here.

"So you're telling me that's Gustav Carver on those CDs, right? Playing the clarinet?"

"He used to participate in the hypnosis. He'd sit and play his clarinet to condition the children. When you get to the headquarters in La Gonâve you'll find the video vault—there are plenty of tapes and photographs of him sitting in the middle of groups of children," Eloise said. "Maurice told me he once asked him why he participated, why he didn't just record the notes once. Monsieur Carver said it was the closest he came to having absolute power."

"When did he stop playing?"

"Sometime in the mideighties—because of his illness. He might have retired, but his myth didn't."

"Mister Clarinet—Ton-ton Clarinet?"

"Yes, like I keep saying, Tonton Clarinette is real. Tonton Clarinette is Monsieur Carver—Gustav Carver."

"But if it's all supposed to be a secret, how did the myth get out?"

"A few of the children escaped over the years," she said quietly. "Not from us, but from their masters. Three are still at large."

"Was one called Boris Gaspésie?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I ask, you answer. What about the others?"

"Two girls—Lita Ravix and Noëlle Perrin."

Max wrote down the two names. He was done with her. He gave a long, hard look, searching those ratlike features for something close to regret or shame for what she'd done. There was nothing of the sort there. There never had been.

He nodded to Paul to indicate that he was through, then he got up and left the room.

Chapter 53

MAX PACED AROUND in the street outside the house, his head churning with all the revelations.

He'd need to see all the evidence and, above all, confront Gustav Carver to be sure—even if he believed Eloise was telling the truth. She didn't have a lying way about her, because all the self-preservation instincts had been brutalized out of her. Liars tripped themselves up with inconsistencies and improbabilities, often in the smallest details, the loose threads that when tugged unraveled the whole tapestry. What Eloise had told him all fit, all flowed in one direction.

What he couldn't understand was what Gustav had been thinking, getting outsiders in to investigate Charlie's disappearance. Hadn't he thought that they might find out about his business along the way? Hadn't he at least considered it a risk?

Of course he had, Max concluded. You don't stay on top of your game for as long as Gustav had by flying close to the sun. People like Gustav never took blind risks; they took informed risks. They didn't just look before they leaped, they knew every single millimeter of the ground they'd land on.

But then, like all absolute tyrants, Carver had always had his own way. He'd never met a challenge he hadn't flattened. So what if he got found out? What could one person do against Carver and his network of contacts who, even if they were a fraction as powerful as Eloise had suggested, would wipe that person clean off the face of the planet? Carver considered himself untouchable, and with good reason.

Had Gustav Carver been behind what had happened to Beeson and Medd? Had they got too close? No. Max didn't think so. At least definitely not Beeson. Beeson would have tried to blackmail Carver and Carver would have had him killed. Why leave him alive so he could tell people what he knew?

So what about the reason he'd originally come here? Charlie Carver? What had happened to him?

He didn't know for sure, but he suspected Charlie was dead.