Chapter Twenty-Six
The Desecrated Cathedral
By the time Oliverand Felipe reached the waterfront in the West Bronx, it was nearly eight and brutally cold. With everyone still at the Battery, all the steamers had been taken, so they had to take the elevated train and then walk. Oliver’s nose and cheeks ached as he struggled to keep pace with Felipe. Snow had fallen, but at least it helped to illuminate the darkened docks. Biting back a wave of anxiety, Oliver focused on the empty boats bobbing in the harbor and the distant voices of men at the bar down the road and the illuminated ship several skiffs over. The vast darkness of the water on either side of him made him uneasy, and the pungent smell of fish and decay did nothing to soothe his nerves. Felipe strode confidently across the floating docks, his posture lax as if he spent half his life at sea, while Oliver took a stumbling step back before righting himself when the dock bobbed. Ever since they reached the harbor, Felipe seemed different. The mask of Inspector Galvan had come upon him so fast that Oliver hadn’t noticed the shift until now. Oliver wondered how Felipe managed being so many people, yet he envied him. Being public and alone Oliver was hard enough to manage, and he didn’t do it very well.
In the middle of the marina, Felipe slowed his steps as they approached the idlingSS Coal Dust. To Oliver’s untrained eye, it looked like a merchant vessel rather than a boat used for pleasure. Barnacles crept up its hull and the deck was covered in tarped clutter. A rough-looking middle aged man leaned against the ledge between the two massive paddle wheels, a cigarette burning red at his lips. Oliver resisted the urge to cough as Felipe strolled as close as he could get on the dock.
“I believe we have an appointment.”
The sailor looked them over with a bored eye. “Says who?”
“Says the card in my pocket,” Felipe answered, flashing the unbloodied portion of the card.
“The priest said I’d be taking one over.”
“Don’t know if I can trust the priest, but I can pay if you’re willing to look the other way.”
The sailor looked between the money in Felipe’s hand and Oliver huddled behind him before nodding for them to climb aboard. “Unhook the mooring lines on your way in.”
Felipe ushered Oliver onto the boat with a steadying hand on his arm before unlooping the hefty ropes keeping the boat to the dock. Easily hopping back onto the stern, Felipe coiled the ropes and handed the captain a wad of cash.
Pocketing the money, the captain turned to them as he headed into the wheelhouse. “I don’t know what the priest told you, but this is a one way trip. I’m not sticking around once you’re on the island.”
“We know.”
When the captain nodded and went inside, Felipe herded Oliver toward the side out of sight. The steam engine chugged to life as Oliver took a seat beside Felipe on the crates. The dagger Felipe gave him dug into Oliver’s hip, the weight an unfamiliar burden as he watched the lights in the buildings lining the East River pass by. Heat radiated off Felipe where their bodies touched, and there was nothing Oliver wanted to do more than put his arms around him. Even in the near dark, Oliver could see the tension in Felipe’s shoulders and the set of his jaw.
“Did you know the East River isn’t a river? It’s actually an estuary,” Oliver said softly and was rewarded with a thoughtful frown from Felipe.
“What’s the difference?”
“Estuaries are saltwater. Rivers are freshwater. So what’s the plan?”
Felipe released a puff of breath, his eyes on the darkness ahead of them. “Depends what we find. If they’re inside a building, I want you to stay outside while I go in. There’s less chance to turn us on each other if there’s only one of us, and I can’t exactly die. But,” he paused and swallowed hard, “if they try to turn me on you—”
“Don’t even suggest it. I won’t. It won’t come to it. We have earplugs, gauze for our noses, and the notes. We won’t need it.”
Oliver couldn’t bear the thought, but as he went to speak, his gaze caught on something in the distance. The further they moved from the shore, the deeper the fog had grown. At first, Oliver had thought it was due to the warmth of the water versus the air, but now, he could see the lines of it and the way it seemed to cut off instead of fade away at the edges. A shiver passed through him. Spires reached out of the cloak of mist like grasping fingers. Leaning over the side of the boat, Felipe craned his neck as the boat approached the shore.
“What is that? Oliver, do you see that?”
