The day after Z was attacked, I took a stroll around the graveyard and tried to find any of her assailant's tracks. No dice. I've got the bum's luck recently. That palooka isn't altogether stupid: he (or she) must have worn gloves. He disappeared like a, well, like a ghost and I couldn't find traces of him anywhere. I decided to give the tombstone a look too. It had the name Urel Albret on it, but that doesn't mean anything to me and there wasn't anything down in that hole but a coffin. What was worth all the trouble?

I helped the caretaker from the church fill the grave back in and decided to have a chat with anyone who might have seen the attack. The caretaker looked almost bashful when I asked him if he heard anyone digging up graves Monday night. He said he hadn't, and then he tried to cover up an almost-drained bottle of hooch. Well, I've been known to tie one on myself, so I let him be.

The old neighbor didn't see anything either. I was starting to feel like the worst gumshoe on the planet, but at least I had one thing figured out. I paid Madame Z a visit.

I found her in the server room looking forlornly at the computer that held the sum total of her hopes and dreams. I felt sorry for her. I've seen too many people get crushed under the unfeeling heel of the world. I was tempted to give her more time to herself, but I needed to clear something up, first. I decided it wasn't time for pussy-footing around. I got to the point.

"So, I notice that you're talking straighter now. I haven't heard you mention the mysteries beyond the veil once after you got your bell rung."

Madame Z jumped a little, turned, and then gave me a slight smile. "No, I haven't. You've caught me, flatfoot. Going to take me away in chains?" She held her wrists up to me, ready to be dragged away to the slammer.

"Nah," I replied. "Just tell me why you were pulling that act."

So she did. Madame Z was born in Bay Horse, where everyone is touched at least a little by the spirit world. That thought ran an icy cold knife down my spine. I've touched this spirit world twice now, if that first time wasn't just a charlatan's trick, and I didn't enjoy it much either time. 

This young Madame Z took a trip out to St. Louis when she was ten, and "everyone there was so sad. Like they didn’t have anything guiding them." Z tells me she'd had "perfect friends" of her own for years and could see the difference. She vowed to go out and bring the spirit world to the masses when she was older.

And so she did, and she ran into a big problem. For Madame Z, and many of the residents of Bay Horse, the spirit world is as much a part of life as the changing of the seasons.  But if you go into the wider world, it becomes a strange otherworldly thing. Everyone expects skulls, tarot cards, and people talking like this. (She raised her hands and started speaking like she was in an amateur production of Hamlet.)

Yeah, okay. So she became a fake in the fake world of the big city, but she never got the hang of all that. She was never dramatic enough, or maybe the things she told people were too true for their tastes. Either way, she lost all of her money in a couple years and came back to Bay Horse a defeated woman. 

Well, almost defeated. A mischievous smile appeared on her face like sun shining through the clouds. She decided that she might be able to tell it all straight on the web, though she found it hard to drop the act when it came to actually talking to people. Then she sighed and looked at the server again, and asked me if it was all worth it? She didn't get attacked in the big city even if they didn't appreciate her.

I didn't have an answer to that. I can't figure out my own life, I doubt I could fix hers. I left her to her thoughts, and went upstairs. It was time to ask Jasmine some tough questions. I could hear the "lovely couple" arguing behind the door. I'm not a joe who likes to wait, so I knocked. The yells turned to whispers, and after a minute Jasmine opened the door. Her face was as closed and boarded as an abandoned house. I got those chills again, but I forced a smile that said "you ain't got nothin' on me, toots." Then I popped the question.

"So, you killed your husband, huh?" I thought that would rattle her cage a little, but instead it lit the fuse on a bomb. She spun around and started to screech like a banchee at Nickolas.

"What have you been telling herrrrrr?" Nickolas backed off and raised his hands. I couldn't tell if he was trying to surrender or calm her down. 

"I haven't been telling her anything? Why would I do that?"

I wasn't invited to the dance but I thought I'd cut in anyway, "Tell who?"

She turned back and I thought that might not have been a good idea. There was lightning flashing in her eyes, and I'm not being metaphorical. "Daisy!"

Daisy? Daisy who?

"Daisy Zanzibar!" Daisy Zanzibar? No wonder she prefers the "Madame" moniker.

"That's right! Daisy Zanzibar! He's been mooning after her every since we got here. And do you know why this bastard has been doing that?"

I had to confess I didn't. I thought they were together here because their love was eternal.

"Well it's not!" She "picked up" some candlesticks near the bed and threw them at Nickolas. They crashed against the wall behind him. "I didn't even like him! I just wanted this classless fool's money, but he wouldn't even let me pretend that I had his heart. Every time he looked away he was thinking about his stupid dead wife! He wouldn't even let me pretend on Valentines Day. He was moping around all day and it made me so mad I grabbed onto the wheel and dragged us off the road! I'd had enough."

The big businessman just nodded and looked at the floor. She made a disgusted sound.

"I never expected to get stuck here, with him, far away from everything that I love. And now he's mooning after Daisy Zanzibar because she reminds him of his poor dead wife! I try to make the best of it, but I have had enough!" 

She stormed out, as much as a ghost can storm. I sidled up next to Nickolas. He looked as shell-shocked as I felt.

"So what's your story, pal? You put up with that?" 

He shrugged. The big cheese looked as low as I've ever seen a man. "That's my punishment. I told Daisy I would be loyal to her forever, but when she left there was a big hole in my life. I tried drink, I tried working harder, but I couldn't forget her so I used Jasmine as much as she used me. I knew it was wrong, but..."

He trailed off, and I left him sitting there. That's twice in one day I had nothing to say.

At least some of these questions are starting to get answered.  Now if only some of those answers would have something to do with the threats...