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i_read_what2025-03-16 04:28 pm
kalinara) wrote in i_read_what2025-03-16 04:28 pm
Art in the Blood - Chapter Five
So last time, Bobbi had her first sitting and we learned more about the weird social dynamics of this tiny artist clique. Still no murder yet. Maybe we won't have one at all!
So we rejoin Jack and Bobbi. They're apparently at "Mailman's", which is one of Escott's favorite places. A fancy restaurant, which Jack sadly can't enjoy himself, but he does appreciate the opportunity to impress his girlfriend.
His vaguely nauseous reaction to being offered food leads to some conversation about his diet. Which is interesting. You'd think they'd have discussed this before.
“You don’t eat anything?”
“ ‘Fraid not.”
She caught the look on my face. “Have I said the wrong thing?”
Jack blames his reaction on it not being private enough to have the conversation, though he admits she has the right to ask the questions. I think it's probably more related to why they never had this conversation before.
Maybe as a result of everything going on in the previous books, but Jack seems like he's in a holding pattern. He hasn't pursued journalism again, even freelance. He's not writing that theoretical book. He's not become officially part of Charles's agency, though he's helped out enough that Escott would probably say yes in a heartbeat. He doesn't move in with Bobbi and they haven't talked about any of this.
Anyway, Bobbi shifts topics to our weird artist friends. Jack fills her in on what had gone on with the loan shark and why Sandra and Evan were camping out with Alex. (It's interesting that Jack uses Adrian's first name here.)
He realizes that he probably owes Gordy a favor now, but Bobbi thinks he might not collect.
“Because of all that business with Slick. I think he still feels bad about slugging you around.”
“I never felt a thing.”
She didn’t look convinced.Escott was no swami, he just had his own method for figuring out people by the way they talked and moved. It was all based on deliberate and analytical observation and could sometimes be pretty spooky if you’re not used to it. Bobbi wasn’t as scientific minded, but I could put as much stock in her intuition as Escott’s logic. Both were pretty reliable.
Aw. I ship all three.
So they finish their evening at Bobbi's. There's no indication of them resuming the food conversation, which shows Jack's avoidance strategy's success. Then he decides to visit the library and read up on Celia Adrian's suicide. Since her husband was a famous painter and magazine illustrator, it made the front pages.
I can't really think of any modern artists that would have that pop culture impact, but I'm not really familiar with the art world. It might be like Stephen King or G.R.R. Martin though?
Apparently Alex had found her in the car in their closed garage. The car had been left running. She'd been dead for hours and there was a suicide note.
Then the newspaper coverage gets more hostile, basically accusing him of being the killer. The tabloids leap with it. The poor guy gets harassed and pranked. Eventually, Jack picks up on a recurring name in the bylines: a Barb Steler.
Jack decides to investigate further. He goes to the tabloid office. It's getting late, but it's still open. Jack gets Barb's address with some hypnosis, but is also given her likely location: a bar called Marty's.
So now to Marty's, and we get a pretty strong description of the woman:
She was in the booth with the boys, blowing cigarette smoke with the best and holding her own in the conversation. She wore a severely tailored suit, a mannish hat, and a worldly expression. Her bronze eyes were very large and predatory rather than vulnerable. Her skin was the palest I’d ever seen, but didn’t look unhealthy. It set off her short jet black hair and generous bright red mouth.
I must have been gaping; she saw me and those seeking eyes flicked up and down and then turned to one of her party.
There's some macho posturing with Barb's male friend, but she deigns to speak to Jack anyway. They go to a booth, and Jack asks her about the Celia Adrian coverage. He wants to know why the paper maintained it might be suicide - Barb's pretty frank about it: a suicide doesn't sell papers.
Jack plays himself off as a journalist gone freelance, which he could very easily do. We've seen how useful his powers could be. He pushes for a bit more info and gets the impression that Barb is rather into Adrian. They flirt and vibe a bit (Jack definitely does have a thing for attractive women), and then head out...together.
“I suppose you think I’m fast?” she said, tugging at the lingers of her black kid gloves. She tossed the empties onto a chair along with her purse and hat.
“I think you know what you want,” I returned.
She vanished into the kitchen and I heard the clink of ice on glass. When she came out the top few buttons of her coat were undone, revealing a little more milk white skin. Her very short hair and the harsh lines of her suit perversely emphasized her femininity. It was the same kind of effect Marlene Dietrich got in a tuxedo.
I included this bit because honestly, I thought the Merlene Dietrich mention was unnecessary. You carried the impression out very clearly, Ms. Elrod. You don't need to over-explain.
So they chat. Jack's aversion to the offered alcohol makes him look like a lightweight. And the fact that he's not all over her, or running away to preserve his virtue like most "men [his] age" intrigues her.
She's observant too. She knows he's here for more information and that he has a girlfriend - she can smell the expensive perfume. That said, there's definitely real chemistry.
She pressed the length of her body against mine, and I won’t lie and say she wasn’t having her effect on me. My symptoms were familiar enough: tunnel vision, heightened hearing and smell, and of course my upper canines were pushing themselves out of their retractable pockets. Mixed in with Bobbi’s perfume and Barb’s perfume was the all-too-tantalizing scent of blood. I stopped breathing but couldn’t shut out its soft rumble as it surged through the veins in her throat.
She sensed at least part of what was happening to me and brought her lips around to cover mine. It lasted only an instant and left the possibility open for more if I wished it. I did, but pulled back.
He tells her she doesn't have to do this. But she's got her own take:
She smiled with infinite patience. “How many times do I have to convince a man that it’s not a question of ‘have to’? I want to and that should be enough. Now lie back and enjoy yourself.” And she pushed herself against me a little and started undoing my tie.
Jack does like formidable women, doesn't he. He lets it go for a bit longer, then when she stops to smile at him, slips her into the trance. He does have to get up and walk around a bit though to avoid the urge to bite...sexily of course. He notes to us that Barb is one of the most desirable women he's ever met, but she's not Bobbi, and he doesn't want to ever hurt either woman.
Once he's calmed down his little vampire, he starts gently questioning her about Adrian and the story comes out. They'd met in Paris, when she was a debutante and he was studying there. They lived together for a while, but she came second to his art. They broke up, she came home to finish studying journalism.
So ultimately, she doesn't believe he killed Celia, she was just trying to punish him for hurting her feelings. Jack gently encourages her to go to bed (though there's a moment where, when she starts removing her clothes, he has to spend sincere effort to remember he's a gentleman and leaves the room until she finishes her preparations.
There's a painting of her, much younger, by Alex Adrian. Jack climbs into bed with her, in clothes of course, but his intent is to leave her with the memory/impression that they'd slept together. He also gives her a gentle hypnotic suggestion:
“You had a good evening, Barbara,” I told her. “You don’t have to remember talking to me about Adrian, but thinking about him doesn’t hurt now. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Now you have a good night’s sleep. When you wake up in the morning you’ll feel a lot better about things.”
Aw. Anyway, Jack leaves, musing that the saddest part is that he thinks she was wrong about Adrian not really loving her: no one could paint a portrait like he did and not be in love.
The chapter ends here.
So we rejoin Jack and Bobbi. They're apparently at "Mailman's", which is one of Escott's favorite places. A fancy restaurant, which Jack sadly can't enjoy himself, but he does appreciate the opportunity to impress his girlfriend.
His vaguely nauseous reaction to being offered food leads to some conversation about his diet. Which is interesting. You'd think they'd have discussed this before.
“You don’t eat anything?”
“ ‘Fraid not.”
She caught the look on my face. “Have I said the wrong thing?”
Jack blames his reaction on it not being private enough to have the conversation, though he admits she has the right to ask the questions. I think it's probably more related to why they never had this conversation before.
Maybe as a result of everything going on in the previous books, but Jack seems like he's in a holding pattern. He hasn't pursued journalism again, even freelance. He's not writing that theoretical book. He's not become officially part of Charles's agency, though he's helped out enough that Escott would probably say yes in a heartbeat. He doesn't move in with Bobbi and they haven't talked about any of this.
Anyway, Bobbi shifts topics to our weird artist friends. Jack fills her in on what had gone on with the loan shark and why Sandra and Evan were camping out with Alex. (It's interesting that Jack uses Adrian's first name here.)
He realizes that he probably owes Gordy a favor now, but Bobbi thinks he might not collect.
“Because of all that business with Slick. I think he still feels bad about slugging you around.”
“I never felt a thing.”
She didn’t look convinced.Escott was no swami, he just had his own method for figuring out people by the way they talked and moved. It was all based on deliberate and analytical observation and could sometimes be pretty spooky if you’re not used to it. Bobbi wasn’t as scientific minded, but I could put as much stock in her intuition as Escott’s logic. Both were pretty reliable.
Aw. I ship all three.
So they finish their evening at Bobbi's. There's no indication of them resuming the food conversation, which shows Jack's avoidance strategy's success. Then he decides to visit the library and read up on Celia Adrian's suicide. Since her husband was a famous painter and magazine illustrator, it made the front pages.
I can't really think of any modern artists that would have that pop culture impact, but I'm not really familiar with the art world. It might be like Stephen King or G.R.R. Martin though?
Apparently Alex had found her in the car in their closed garage. The car had been left running. She'd been dead for hours and there was a suicide note.
Then the newspaper coverage gets more hostile, basically accusing him of being the killer. The tabloids leap with it. The poor guy gets harassed and pranked. Eventually, Jack picks up on a recurring name in the bylines: a Barb Steler.
Jack decides to investigate further. He goes to the tabloid office. It's getting late, but it's still open. Jack gets Barb's address with some hypnosis, but is also given her likely location: a bar called Marty's.
So now to Marty's, and we get a pretty strong description of the woman:
She was in the booth with the boys, blowing cigarette smoke with the best and holding her own in the conversation. She wore a severely tailored suit, a mannish hat, and a worldly expression. Her bronze eyes were very large and predatory rather than vulnerable. Her skin was the palest I’d ever seen, but didn’t look unhealthy. It set off her short jet black hair and generous bright red mouth.
I must have been gaping; she saw me and those seeking eyes flicked up and down and then turned to one of her party.
There's some macho posturing with Barb's male friend, but she deigns to speak to Jack anyway. They go to a booth, and Jack asks her about the Celia Adrian coverage. He wants to know why the paper maintained it might be suicide - Barb's pretty frank about it: a suicide doesn't sell papers.
Jack plays himself off as a journalist gone freelance, which he could very easily do. We've seen how useful his powers could be. He pushes for a bit more info and gets the impression that Barb is rather into Adrian. They flirt and vibe a bit (Jack definitely does have a thing for attractive women), and then head out...together.
“I suppose you think I’m fast?” she said, tugging at the lingers of her black kid gloves. She tossed the empties onto a chair along with her purse and hat.
“I think you know what you want,” I returned.
She vanished into the kitchen and I heard the clink of ice on glass. When she came out the top few buttons of her coat were undone, revealing a little more milk white skin. Her very short hair and the harsh lines of her suit perversely emphasized her femininity. It was the same kind of effect Marlene Dietrich got in a tuxedo.
I included this bit because honestly, I thought the Merlene Dietrich mention was unnecessary. You carried the impression out very clearly, Ms. Elrod. You don't need to over-explain.
So they chat. Jack's aversion to the offered alcohol makes him look like a lightweight. And the fact that he's not all over her, or running away to preserve his virtue like most "men [his] age" intrigues her.
She's observant too. She knows he's here for more information and that he has a girlfriend - she can smell the expensive perfume. That said, there's definitely real chemistry.
She pressed the length of her body against mine, and I won’t lie and say she wasn’t having her effect on me. My symptoms were familiar enough: tunnel vision, heightened hearing and smell, and of course my upper canines were pushing themselves out of their retractable pockets. Mixed in with Bobbi’s perfume and Barb’s perfume was the all-too-tantalizing scent of blood. I stopped breathing but couldn’t shut out its soft rumble as it surged through the veins in her throat.
She sensed at least part of what was happening to me and brought her lips around to cover mine. It lasted only an instant and left the possibility open for more if I wished it. I did, but pulled back.
He tells her she doesn't have to do this. But she's got her own take:
She smiled with infinite patience. “How many times do I have to convince a man that it’s not a question of ‘have to’? I want to and that should be enough. Now lie back and enjoy yourself.” And she pushed herself against me a little and started undoing my tie.
Jack does like formidable women, doesn't he. He lets it go for a bit longer, then when she stops to smile at him, slips her into the trance. He does have to get up and walk around a bit though to avoid the urge to bite...sexily of course. He notes to us that Barb is one of the most desirable women he's ever met, but she's not Bobbi, and he doesn't want to ever hurt either woman.
Once he's calmed down his little vampire, he starts gently questioning her about Adrian and the story comes out. They'd met in Paris, when she was a debutante and he was studying there. They lived together for a while, but she came second to his art. They broke up, she came home to finish studying journalism.
So ultimately, she doesn't believe he killed Celia, she was just trying to punish him for hurting her feelings. Jack gently encourages her to go to bed (though there's a moment where, when she starts removing her clothes, he has to spend sincere effort to remember he's a gentleman and leaves the room until she finishes her preparations.
There's a painting of her, much younger, by Alex Adrian. Jack climbs into bed with her, in clothes of course, but his intent is to leave her with the memory/impression that they'd slept together. He also gives her a gentle hypnotic suggestion:
“You had a good evening, Barbara,” I told her. “You don’t have to remember talking to me about Adrian, but thinking about him doesn’t hurt now. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Now you have a good night’s sleep. When you wake up in the morning you’ll feel a lot better about things.”
Aw. Anyway, Jack leaves, musing that the saddest part is that he thinks she was wrong about Adrian not really loving her: no one could paint a portrait like he did and not be in love.
The chapter ends here.