September 25, 1975
Hagerstown, MD
Of course Lapis didn't follow Peridot's instructions. Why should she expect otherwise?
Instead, Peridot found herself driving to a small hotel in Hagerstown, Maryland, a little bundle of highways and crossroads and shopping centers without much to commend it.
She really was aggravated, and not just because she was missing another day of work. (At this point, she cared less and less about that.) She felt like she was living a really bad spy movie. Why did Lapis have to make everything so difficult for her?
While there was an outside chance Peridot might explain billing her boss for a hotel in Georgetown, how would she explain this? She had to hope Lapis had some dread secrets that could blow open the entire investigation, otherwise Peridot would be angry.
Somewhere along the highway, across from a tacky seafood restaurant with Hawaiian and beach bum decor, she spotted it. A little one-level fleabag motel which, even from the outside, smelled of mothballs and wet paint. An old store or office next to the hotel lay in ruins, its windows and doors blasted out as if by a hurricane, or possibly an explosion.
Peridot went to the side of the hotel, searching out the room number Lapis had given her. A shingle fell off the roof as she walked past, startling her. She heard someone arguing in one of the rooms, a blare of loud music from another, the faint whiff of tobacco smoke. Finally, she reached the number - 416 - and knocked.
After a long moment, the door cracked open. She saw a blue eye staring out at her.
"Are you Peridot?" an unmistakable voice said.
"Yes I am," Peridot said as cheerfully as circumstances allowed.
"Were you followed? Is there anyone with you?"
"Just me," Peridot assured her.
"All right," Lapis responded. The door clattered shut and Peridot stood anxiously, listening to the latch clattering open. Finally the door opened slightly.
"You can come in. Just, don't leave the door open."
Paranoid much? Peridot thought.
Peridot took a step forward, edging through the door and closing it tightly behind her. Then she felt something cold against her neck.
"Spread your arms," Lapis commanded. Peridot obeyed, more nonplussed than scared.
She felt the young woman frisking her and felt a blush of embarrassment and annoyance.
"I don't typically carry a weapon," Peridot said angrily. "I'm a congressional aide, not a spy..."
"How do I know that?" Lapis said. "We've only ever talked on the phone, and that's not exactly the best proof of trust..."
"Whoa, whoa, calm down!" Peridot said, tearing herself away from Lapis. She saw the harried young woman aim a small pistol at her chest, and raised her hands in the air.
"Lapis, right?" Peridot said, swallowing her fear, staring into the woman's intense, angry blue eyes. "Lapis Lazuli? Listen, I'm just here to find out what you know. Nothing more, nothing less. No guns, no tape recorders, nothing that's gonna give you away or spill your secrets."
Lapis lowered the gun and relaxed her shoulders, just a bit. But her eyes retained their challenging glare.
"I'm not here even in an official capacity, really," Peridot admitted, hoping it would gain her trust. "Meeting you is more...personal curiosity, let's say."
"Then why should I talk to you?" Lapis asked. Though her voice was no longer a shout, rather low and weary. "Why should I trust you?"
Peridot didn't have answer to that. So she decided to brazen it out.
"I don't know," she said with a theatrical sigh. "You have no reason to trust me, I guess. We're only the loosest of acquaintances and I guess there's no obvious way for me to prove my good faith. But I'm thinking you don't have much anyone you can trust. And maybe, just possibly...you could use a friend."
Lapis's expression didn't change. But she put her gun down on a dresser and walked over to the hotel bed. She sat down, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor. Peridot stood watching her, unsure what she should do.
"Everyone who tries to be my friend gets hurt," Lapis admitted. "In one way or another. Guess I'm a bad luck charm."
Peridot walked closer to her, relieved that the imminent danger of getting shot had ended. She suspected, correctly, that Lapis might just want to spill her guts, and she made herself ready to listen.
"I know I deserve it," Lapis continued, "for all the awful things I've done over the years. But it doesn't seem right that other people have to get burned, too. I haven't spoken to my parents in years. Not that they'd talk to me anyway if they knew about..."
And she stopped herself. There were some things she wouldn't admit to a stranger.
"Anyway...I'm still not sure why you're here. If you're not doing it in an "official capacity," then why would you drive all this way to meet me?"
Because you wouldn't listen to me and come to Georgetown, Peridot thought.
"Color me curious," Peridot said again. "I'm piecing together a lot of interesting things in my research, but no one wants to listen. And no one seems able to tell me anything. All the witnesses I've heard from are being very reticent about offering me anything. At least when they meet Peridot Khoury, aide to Senator Dewey. When they meet Peridot Khoury, fake detective, they open up a little more."
She offered a half-smile. But Lapis just scowled.
"Maybe there's a reason these people don't want to talk to you," Lapis grumbled. "Maybe it's for your own good."
Peridot knew, from a lifetime of slights and condescension, that people who told you things they did, or didn't do, were "for your own good" thought of you as sub-mental pond scum unable to handle hard truths. She really hoped Lapis wasn't the same way. But her inscrutability made it hard to tell.
She was struck, more than anything, by how sad Lapis seemed. How broken. It wasn't just that she was paranoid or angry - those were easily deciphered as a front, a coping mechanism. But it broke Peridot's heart how empty she appeared, just from talking to her. From seeing her, for the first time.
She barely seemed human, just a burnt-out husk. Only her eyes, intense and burning bright blue, betrayed any sign of life; her clothes were drab and unattractive, her hair a dim black streaked with faded blue dye, freckles virtually invisible on her face, her body extremely, perhaps unhealthily thin. And Peridot felt that, whatever Lapis had done or experienced, she was way too young to be so...defeated.
"I'll be the judge of what's for my own good," Peridot said quietly.
Lapis sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to get rid of her guest. So she laid back on the bed for a minute, staring at the ceiling, her hair cascading down around her.
"If you can do that," she said, "you're a better judge than me."
She closed her eyes and smiled. Peridot edged a little closer, putting a hand on a bed post.
"You ever remember a time when you were just...I dunno, happy?" Lapis said, her eyes still closed. "Whenever things are completely miserable, there's some point in your life, something in your past that you can always go back to and just...remember that things don't have to be this way?"
"Oh, definitely," Peridot nodded.
"I have lots of moments like that," Lapis said. "Only, not really. I guess my childhood could have been worse. And my college years, before...Well, let's just say for now most of those memories come tinged with sadness or regret. Some sign that things are gonna get worse immediately after a little joy comes along. I wish I could just have one pure, happy memory. Right now, that would be enough for me."
After another moment, she opened her eyes and turned over on her side, staring at Peridot.
"Well, what do you want to know?" Lapis asked, with a wan smile that broke Peridot's heart.
Lapis couldn't remember that night at all. She couldn't remember what happened, except for fragments that forced her way through the consciousness.
She remembered a guy named Peter Melvin, one of those campus intellectuals who walks everywhere with a volume of Marx or Marcuse in his arms. She vaguely remembered him trying to explain One-Dimensional Man to her in the most condescending way imaginable...
She remembered Catherine, trying to convince her not to go to the party, that all the people there were radicals or counterculture people, that she'd attract attention...
She thought she remembered a kiss, but couldn't even be clear on whether it actually happened or was just wishful thinking...
She remembered Peter giving her drinks as he spewed nonsense about the proletariat and how things weren't gonna change no matter who was president, that the people had to take direct action...
Swirls of cigarette smoke, the faint smell of cheap alcohol...a blur of Hendrix and Joplin with a smear of rambling dialectics...
Her main memory was more a sensation of being uncomfortable, of hating it, of wondering why she was here rather than doing something fun. Why she was spending time with a boy rather than Catherine.
Maybe that was it. Maybe she was still ashamed of discovering who she was, even if it made her happy.
She did remember a conversation she'd had with her mother a few nights before the party. Or at least parts of it.
"Mom, I know this girl who...she likes girls."
"What do you mean, she likes girls?"
"Like...romantically likes them."
"Women like that don't exist, sweetie. If they like women, they aren't women."
"Well, this girl I know is as feminine as you or me."
"There's something wrong with her...I don't want you spending time with people like that. Whatever they are. Might corrupt you."
Corruption. That's how her mom viewed love.
She had turned that conversation over in her mind a million times, trying to convince herself that her parents' thoughts didn't matter. But realizing that they did. Realizing that some people would never accept or understand her. And that broke her heart.
She still couldn't remember much about the party, but she could guess from what memories. That she had tried convincing herself that she was normal, and Catherine wasn't. That in order to get Catherine from her mind, she would have to find some boy - any boy - and go on a date with them. Let them take you to a party. Maybe even let them feel you up or make out with you or possibly even go all the way.
Be a girl. Be a woman. Be normal.
She could also guess that someone put something in her drink. Because when she woke up, she was in bed with a girl she'd never seen before.
She remembered flashes of light and murmured voices. Wondered if they were all a dream. They sure didn't feel like it.
Her first inkling that it was more than just a bad, awkward party came when she received a phone call from someone two days later. She didn't seem able to rid herself of a headache, so she wasn't happy when someone called her in her dorm early in the morning.
"Ms. Lazuli," a calm male voice came on the other line, "my name is Christian Edwards. Would like to speak with you about, erm, what happened the other night."
"What happened the other night?" Lapis said, not entirely feigning amnesia.
"Something I don't think your mother would approve of..."
Lapis hung up the phone in fear and anger. Wondering just what had happened. If someone knew.
The phone rang a few seconds later. Lapis's first instinct was to rip it out of the wall. But she answered it cautiously.
"Hello?" Lapis answered, trembling with fear.
Instead of a live voice, she heard what sounded like a recording. Heavy, erotic breathing, a cry of passion, a satisfied moan. Two female voices whispering sweet nothings to each other. The sticky sounds of loud kissing.
It took her a long moment to realize that one of the voices, one of the breathers and criers was...
It was her.
Lapis slammed down the telephone and recoiled from it. Yet she stood petrified, staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring again. Knowing it would ring again.
After an eternity it finally did. She picked it up without saying anything.
"Now I hope you understand," Edwards said on the other end. "I wish to meet with you as soon as we can. This is only a sample of what
"What do you want? Money?" Lapis rambled. "I don't have any money! My family could barely afford to send me to college. What do you want? Do you just get your sick kicks from ruining someone's life?"
"I'd say you'd ruined your own life," Edwards hissed. "Except you don't have to. Let's meet somewhere private."
"What do you want from me?" Lapis demanded, trembling so hard she made the phone shake.
"For now? Meet me at the Good Sweeney restaurant later today. We'll talk then."
"What time?"
"What time are you done with class? Wouldn't want to harm your academic career."
"Fuck you!" Lapis screamed - the first time she'd used that word in her life.
"All right, let's say around 5:00. I'll pay for dinner. It's the least I can do."
Then he hung up before Lapis could say anything. She sunk to her knees and cried, feeling so alone and trapped and helpless she couldn't move.
"That is...wow."
Peridot genuinely did not know how to react to Lapis's story. She wanted to reach out and give her a hug, or some comfort, but realized that Lapis wouldn't appreciate any physical contact.
"I'm so sorry," Peridot offered lamely. Lapis sat on the bed with her head between her knees, rocking back and forth like a scared child.
"The whole thing was a joke," she muttered. "A sad, stupid, ugly fucking joke. They thought I was a radical or something because I went to that party. Instead they found out that I was a lesbian. That I liked girls. Because that's the worst thing you could be in the world."
"So...they are..." Peridot tiptoed gingerly around what she really wanted to know.
Lapis stretched out her legs and looked at the floor, sighing. Then she turned to Peridot and muttered:
"The CIA."
This came to Peridot as a shock. Somehow she'd thought that Lapis worked for the FBI's COINTELPRO program, one of the subjects she'd been researching for Senator Dewey. Maybe because she somehow associated her with Pearl, who had worked for the FBI and may have been privy to Hoover's efforts to undermine progressive and radical groups.
"Operation CHAOS," she said. Lapis snickered.
"Well, they didn't tell me the name," she said. "At least at the time. I had to find it out myself."
"And what did you do for them?"
"I informed. I spied. I pretended I was a radical and I gave them information about different antiwar groups on campus. Kid's stuff."
She shook her head ruefully. "I mean, think about it. They probably could have paid me a bribe or something like they did with other people. Like, I was a college student, I could have used the money. I don't know why they had to..." She couldn't finish the sentence, feeling disgust and shame rising within her. "Anyway to save a few bucks, I guess."
"How long did you...?"
"Until 1972. Then I quit. Something happened that...People died. People I knew. All because of me."
Peridot decided not to press Lapis. She was looking down at the floor again, her face masked in deep sadness.
"I'm sorry," Peridot offered lamely.
"You're not the one who should be sorry," Lapis responded.
"But it wasn't your fault," Peridot said. "Not if they tricked or trapped you into doing it." Her hopefulness came back into her voice. "And now, if you testify about it..."
"I don't want to testify," Lapis said, suddenly angry. "I don't think it's going to do me any good. They're already watching me. I know they're going to hurt or kill me if I do anything more."
"Is they...?"
"I don't know who they are, exactly. Could be the CIA, but I doubt it. They're being really careful these days. Maybe just someone else who knows."
Peridot thought about this and nodded. Thought back to the car bombing the previous week. And to Pearl. Wondering how all these things connected.
Patterns were beginning to emerge.
"I can get you protection," Peridot said. "Even if you don't want to testify...I could bring in US Marshals, or at least local police..."
"That wouldn't do me any good," Lapis said. "I have to fend for myself. Or at least, I'm not gonna get help from the authorities when the CIA's involved."
"But the CIA's charter doesn't allow them to operate on domestic soil..."
"Oh, please," Lapis laughed. "You really are naive, aren't you?"
"But you said yourself that they're being careful..."
"They're being careful not to involve themselves," Lapis corrected. "Doesn't mean they don't still have an interest in hiding things. Helping whoever's been watching me do...whatever they're planning to do."
Peridot shook her head. Either Lapis was immensely, hopelessly paranoid, or she was in the gravest possible danger.
She didn't know. But she took a chance. Decided to involve herself at whatever risk it would entail. Because some things matter more than getting into trouble.
She turned to Lapis and asked:
"What can I do to help?"