Cocaine Nights by J. G. Ballard

Author:J. G. Ballard
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General, Mystery & Detective, Fiction
ISBN: 9781582435701
Publisher: Counterpoint
Published: 2009-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Criminals and Benefactors

'You've been favoured,' I told Sanger as we rolled up the drive towards his villa. 'Apart from New York, that's the most impressive collection of graffiti I've ever seen.'

'Let's be charitable and call it street art. But I'm afraid it has other intentions.'

Sanger stepped from his car and surveyed the garage doors. Graffiti covered every inch of the steel panels, an aerosolled display of fluorescent whorls and loops, swastikas and threatening slogans that continued across the window shutters and front door. Repeated cleanings had blurred the pigments, and the triptych of garage, windows and door resembled the self-accusing effort of a deranged Expressionist painter.

Sanger stared wanly at the display, shaking his head like the distracted curator of a gallery forced by the pressures of fashion to exhibit works for which he had little sympathy.

'I suggest you rest for a few minutes,' he told me as he unlocked the door. 'A taxi can take you back to your car. It must have been an ordeal for you . . .'

'It's kind of you, Doctor. I'm not sure if I was in any danger. I seem to have a knack for tripping over my own feet.'

'That hang-glider sounded threatening enough. And the motor-cyclist. Estrella de Mar is more dangerous than people think.'

Sanger ushered me into the hall, watching the empty street

before closing the door. With a faint sigh, a mix of relief and resignation, he stared at the bare walls, criss-crossed by the shadows of the steel grilles over the garden windows, each a dark portcullis. Our silhouettes moved across the bars, figures in a pageant of convict life.

'It reminds me of Piranesi's Carceri - I never thought I'd live inside those strange etchings.' Sanger turned to examine me. 'Were you in danger? Very possibly. Crawford likes to keep the pot stirred, but sometimes he goes too far.'

'I feel better than I thought. As it happens, that wasn't Crawford in the hang-glider. Or on the motor-cycle.'

'His colleagues, I dare say. Crawford has a network of sympathizers who know what he wants. I assume they were teasing you. All the same, be careful not to expose yourself, even if you are Frank's brother.'

Sanger led me into a lounge overlooking a small, walled garden almost entirely filled by a swimming pool. The long room was furnished with two armchairs and a low table. Books had once lined the walls, but now filled a collection of cardboard cartons. The air seemed motionless, as if the windows and doors to the garden were never opened.

'I can see you're moving,' I commented. 'In or out?'

'Out. I've found that this house has certain drawbacks, as well as memories of a rather painful kind. Now, sit down and try to calm yourself Sanger steered me from the garden door, whose handle I was trying to turn, concerned for my overexcited state. His sensitive hands raised my chin, and I could smell the faint perfume of grave lilies on his fingertips. He touched the fading bruises on my neck, and then sat in the leather chair facing me, as if ready to begin my analysis.

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