DAVID GREEN'S INTERVIEWS

SOUND: The Heavens Are Telling, Haydn, Mormon Tabernacle Choir

"The man of ability takes advantage of everything

And neglects nothing that can give him a chance of success."

Napoleon Bonaparte

Dee picked up his phone and scrolled through the audio tracks to double-check the info he had collected. Except for the introduction of each subject he interviewed, he could skip through his questions. Given his good memory, it'd be a waste of time listening to himself anyway. He hit play and the sound started.

Location: Caffé Palermo

Subject: Vito Caruso—cafe owner

First came the chattering of the clients, accompanied by the clattering and clinking of ceramics, the buzzing of the coffee machine and the splashing of water from the sink.

"Vain? Sybil Vain, you said? No, never heard of him."

The middle-aged man had a baritone voice—perfectly fit to his size—but it sounded stiff and defensive. At that time, Dee had already noticed the young waitress—Vito's daughter—so he had politely asked to have a chat with her.

"Why would you have to ask my daughter too? What's the point?"

Dee was reminded of Vito's broad shoulders, round belly and big rough hands as the man gestured at his own words—the Italian way. His voice sounded harsher than his pleasant De Niro face looked.

"Even if they told you he was here, it has nothing to do with us. Maria and I know nothing about this Vain and obviously we are not writing down the name of every-fucking-body that sets foot in our café. Now, if you are not going to order, get out of here and let me do my job."

The audio stopped abruptly. For Dee, Vito was a dead-end.

Location: at the intersection of 5th Avenue and 64th Street

Subject: a young passer-by

The roaring of motors flooded the speaker, tapping of steps and chatting in the background.

"I was laughin' cause ya're talkin' 'bout that guy. Yeah, that guy seein' the future, right? Sure as hell I never asked his name, but I know somethin'... Yeah, there's this crazy old man. People say he keeps seein' stuff... He lives somewhere 'round here, but don't get too worked up, trust me. He's just a hobo. I'm sure the shit 'bout his powers it's just a prank thrown 'round by some punks."

The boy's screechy voice was unsettling and his exuberance felt unnatural.

"Ya'll find him after the intersection of 64th and Fifth, down the blind alley on the right, just before the Italian cafe. The boss there gives him food now and then; still, it's Fifth Avenue! No idea how he manage to stay in such a fancy spot 'nd no troubles with the cops. Well, whatever, if ya don't find him just go ask the people in the Italian cafe."

The boy's phone started ringing—an awful growl pretending to be a modern rock song.

"No, no idea 'bout his name, told ya already. I never said a word to him, got it? Go and see for yourself."

Dee remembered the boy's nervous eyes, darting at the screen as he silenced the call.

"I told ya I don't know. Hey man, you ought to learn when it's time to knock it off."

Location: Metro-Living—Real Estate Agency

Subject: Lucille Lovett—Personal Secretary of the Executive Director

The recording started with the sweet sound of clothes rustling in a quiet room.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's this one. I'll call them right away. It's been more than two months already, I hope it's the right place and not a waste of your time—ah, wait, the Night Hotel picked up, give me a minute to confirm the information."

Lucille's hushed and honeyed voice delighted Dee's ears. The sound of her steps—disappearing after the clack of the bathroom's door—was followed by a brief muffled conversation in the other room. This time the recording kept on as Dee's steps followed her until they met the rushing sound of water hitting the bottom of a sink.

"I have something, but not much," she said.

The recording stopped for the time it took them to get out of the bathroom—quite a lot, to be honest. Dee kept his mind from going astray. When the audio restarted, he remembered how he apologized for troubling her again.

"Never mind, I got an email from the organization anyway, and since John helped me get this job, regardless of the way I lost my occupation as his personal secretary, this was the least I could do—but why are they after Vain? I mean, I thought John had a direct contact with him."

Her voice sounded uncertain. There was no way he would answer to such a question—not anymore—and she knew it. Dee shook his head and skipped over his reply.

"I see, you don't need to tell me anything else. Either way, I already reported to John that I heard my boss talking about Vain with one of our best clients—he was recommending a consultation with The Oracle to solve some sort of problem."

Her voice paused while she zipped up her skirt.

"I dug into it as much as I could and it seemed like not long ago Vain saved our agency, preventing a scandal that could have shut it down for good. It turned out that the Executive Director is being quite protective of Vain's real identity and given the situation, I'm afraid that whatever I try I won't be able to give you more details. But I can bet The Oracle gained a lifelong paid accommodation."

As she said, it wasn't much. Dee massaged his temple with one hand while he skipped forward again.

"Yes, I know and I'm sorry to let you down, but that's really not possible. The chief keeps his mouth shut about it unless he speaks to someone he fully trusts. Even as his personal assistant I had to eavesdrop on his conversations and sneak a peek at his private calendar. He had been really careful not to leave any hints, except for a small reminder of their meeting, so I can't even say if the hotel where they met was the one where Vain stayed. Maybe once you're on the spot you'll have better luck. Anyway, I should warn you about his powers. It's not bullshit. I'd take my advice if I were you, don't approach this head-on and try to avoid direct questioning. You could get into trouble and I'd like to see you again, preferably in one piece."

Her tone grew heavier before sinking into a moment of silence. The zipping of her bag interrupted it and was followed by the clacking of her heels on the floor as she ushered him to the door.

"Be careful then and call me when you're free. See you soon, Dee!"

The recording stopped at the sound of her kiss.

Location: Night Hotel—Theater District

Subject: William Hunt—hotel's front-desk Manager

"Vain, Sybil Vain, right? The name isn't new to me—he might have been one of our guests a few months ago. May I ask you why you are looking for him? Has he done something wrong?"

The voice of the middle-aged front desk manager resonated in the quiet hall. It took a while to explain the situation and show the man all the paperwork—anyway, Dee skipped through that part.

"I see. Miss Lovett mentioned it when she called yesterday—she said Mister Vain recommended our hotel to her boss. Well, if it's for a piece on celebrities' favorite hotels and you have Mister Vain's signed consent, it might as well be a good publicity for us. Let me check on the registrations of the past three months."

The manager's tone had become softer. As soon as he finished speaking, the ticking sound of a keyboard came over the recording.

"Mister Vain stayed here about three months ago, he reserved the Penthouse for one week."

Dee's question about the celebrity's reaction to the hotel wasn't recorded either.

"Well, thinking back now, he was a quiet and discreet guest and he chose our best room. Though all I can tell you about him is that he paid cash. I should have figured he was a foreign VIP."

Dee ran a hand through his hair. Paying cash for that room wasn't something everybody could do. However, he already knew that Vain's service wasn't a cheap one. The voice of the manager brought his attention back to the recording.

"Of course, you can reserve the same accommodation; it's available on those dates. Don't mention it, Mister Green, I hope I've been of some help and wish you a pleasant stay at our hotel."

Location: Night Hotel—Theater District

Subject: Eve—hotel Maid

The buzzing of the vacuum cleaner stopped and the girl's fresh giggles took its place.

"Oh, yeah, an angel like that you can never forget! The old bat says he was creepy, but, hell no, he was a dreamboat! Too bad he talked so little and was always cooped up in his room—to work, I guess. Really, I've got no idea what he was doing. Ah, in the early morning I could hear classical music from inside and whenever I got into the room for cleaning, everything was so neat and orderly, and there'd be some exotic scent from the incenses he burnt on the balcony. Believe me, it felt like a different world!"

A smile lingered on Dee's lips. At that time, he had thought that Eve might have had a fling with Vain. Her voice replayed after he asked about it.

"Ah, no, I didn't catch his eye... What a shame. Anyway, no harm done. That kind of man is a look but don't touch."

His target was too smart to meddle with a hotel maid. Still, Eve was the one who would have had access to his room, so Dee had tried to get something out of it.

"No, no, he was alone most of the time. Hmm, except one day. I saw him downstairs at the bar with an older man, who looked like the business type. I half-expected him to swing that way, you know what I mean, don't you? Then again, after a while, he was there with a sexy Italian girl, and seeing them together, well, who knows, right? She was pretty hot too. Patricia kept saying she was a whore, but he didn't take her to the room and I was quite relieved."

The mention of an Italian girl had caught Dee's attention then and still struck him as something that shouldn't be overlooked. However, what he really needed was a description of Vain.

"Uh, I think he was blond, but he always held his hair up, under some hoodie or hat, so I can't be sure. Ah, even wearing loose Asian clothing he had a lean and hot look! Hmm, his eyes—Asian and dark, I'd say, but he kept them shut most of the time. Figure in the beginning I thought him blind, then again, one morning I saw him reading a book by the window—he was so charming! He must be the romantic type. Oh, and he had such a beautiful smile! If he'd just asked me to run away with him I'd have done it! Truth is, he's never even spoken to me, bah... I've gotta go now before the hag gets me fired. It was great meeting you David, let's catch up again later!"

Location: Night Hotel—Theater District

Subject: Doris Miller—Hotel Headmaid

"A strange man, I tell you, tall and with a poker face."

Shifting of boxes and dragging of buckets resonated in the storeroom as the old woman moved around like a working bee. Dee skipped his question again.

"No, no, with people like that it's best to be careful with what one says. He spent all day, all day I tell you, and may God strike me dead if it's otherwise, locked in the room, doing drugs. You'll see that a lot around here, rich kids with no talents other than squandering family money, and this was one of the worst. Luckily he wasn't here long. He wouldn't talk, would never go out, only ate in his room and always with his eyes half shut. Drugs reduced him to a living vegetable, I say—I tell you now, he wouldn't even turn around for my morning greetings, he acted as though I was talking to somebody else! That man was up to no good, no doubt, off his head on drugs too. Something wasn't right."

Doris was obviously biased against Vain but she also seemed to be a meticulous observer. Thus, Dee had gone into asking about the questions Eve's interview had raised. The storeroom fell silent except for the swishing of clothes as the old maid turned around. Dee remembered her narrowed eyes and the wrinkles growing heavier around her mouth.

"Yes, I saw the businessman at the bar. I can't quite remember what they were saying. I thought I was better off not knowing, so I decided it would be best to keep my distance. Although I did manage to catch it was about money. Lots. Enough money that I wouldn't be able to make half that amount in my lifetime."

She had sounded more than willing to talk about it though. Dee shifted in the chair and stretched his legs, his attention totally absorbed by the audio.

"I remember the kid that came after. Well, it's true, she was dressed up like a hooker, but she had a sour look, Italian accent and... I saw her pick up a check. What if she had something to do with the Mafia? I was almost sure they were going to do something dangerous like rob a store, kidnap someone or worse! I could only hope that if they did, it was as far away from here as possible."

Dee clicked his tongue. Mafia was the last thing he would've wanted to deal with. He still hoped the maid's bias was the reason behind such an exaggerated statement. The rolling of wheels from the laundry cart cut through his thoughts.

"That's it, so be careful asking around about that man, Mister Green. Ah, Patricia, Patricia! Where are you going with that? Excuse me, I need to go now. Patricia, are you done with Mister Green's room?"

Location: at the intersection of 5th Avenue and 64th Street

Subject: Caffé Palermo Client

The roaring of cars filled the speaker again. It was quite the change from the peaceful hotel atmosphere. Dee adjusted the volume of his phone.

"Can't say I know the name, but if you need a fortune-teller there's one down the alley over there—the old man keeps talking about Armageddon and stuff like that, he gives out predictions and lives off handouts. Still, he's popular around here and they say he's pretty good, so I took a chance and he was spot-on. If you want to give it a shot too, go right now. I just saw him."

The man's voice sounded relaxed and reasonable. Dee had thought he could finally stitch things together. With his questions, he had tried to confirm some of the traits from Vain's different descriptions. He had even asked about that Mafia thing.

"Eh? No, no, he's not blond, maybe he was but he's not so young anymore!"

"Keeping to himself? Damn it, he freaking talks all the time! Even when you're not up for listening and you try to shut him up, he just keeps blabbering but that's how he gets people, what can you do? Based on his looks, you would give him a penny, then get out as fast as you could."

"No, don't sweat it, he's basically harmless. Nothing to do with drugs and least of all with the Mafia, he keeps it cool and has never hurt anyone."

He sped through the audio. There was nothing really valuable there.

"Bah, maybe on a good day he'd have the money to stay in a hotel, for a couple of days at best, but then what? I mean, he works on the street and sleeps in a packing box, if he could make enough cash do you think he'd still be there? Anyway, he's happy with his life 'cause he thinks he's on some kind of a mission to save the world."

Location: Lucem In Tenebris—Esoteric Agency

Subject: Call Center Operator

Starting next was the recording of a telephonic conversation. Dee took a deep breath—his ears were getting some peace at last.

"You are looking for Sybil Vain, The Oracle, right? Please hold just a moment."

"All right: we were never notified with postal address details, therefore I'm afraid I can't give you the location. However, they provided us with a contact number to make appointments."

She promptly spelled it for him and giggled at his polite compliments on her professionality.

"Between us, The Oracle is a big shot! The Studio has got a reputation in the U.S—New York City to be exact—as well as overseas. The most fervent supporters believe Vain to be an embodied deity who never misses. So I'm confident you'll be satisfied with your consultation. If you ever need our service again we will be happy to help, have a good evening, Mister Green."

Dee shook his head. Even the receptionist didn't fail to share some gossip, however, it felt weird that she just talked about it so easily.

Location: Studio "The Oracle", 5th Avenue

Subject: Secretary

Next up was the recording of another telephone call. Dee slumped down in the chair, his legs straightening in front of him. He suppressed a yawn.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is not Sybil Vain's personal contact—you are on line with the Studio The Oracle. On the other hand, if what you're looking for is a consultation, you're calling the right number and we can make an appointment."

Dee brought a hand to cover his right ear, trying—again—to pick up any sign of deception in the secretary's voice.

"All right, you're lucky we got a spot for tomorrow, Monday the 15th of May, at 4 p.m. Is that ok with you?"

She had a soft, gentle voice, fit for her job, and sounded as natural as one can be. He'd obviously agreed to the appointment.

"Very good, I need your name and contact information."

Dee sat back on the chair. His hands ran over his face.

"Not a problem, it's my job. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening, Mister Green."