Getting inside my car, I gave Martha a call before driving off.

“What’s going on, Eddie?” She answered, no humor in her voice.

“Hey, I followed my lead. I think we’ve been under the influence of some special gas inside Club Novus, and that’s why we can’t remember anything.”

“Really? You think there’s something in the air?”

“Yes, and it’s in the fog, I believe. Charles Green gave me some filters to use and another pass to go to the club tonight.”

“You didn’t arrest him? It sounds like he works at the club.”

“I don’t think Charles does. He’s a former friend of the owner.”

“I still think we should keep our eyes on him. I don’t trust what’s going on here. Anything that has to do with that fucking club is corrupt. I’m convinced.”

“I don’t think Charles is going to flee. If we need him, he’ll be there to testify against Percy. I really believe that. But first, we need to know for sure if Percy is the one behind the murders.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“I think everything is culminating with tonight. They say third times a charm, right? Well, I have another admission and some filter to weed out whatever is in that fog.”

“It makes sense now why those servers are wearing those masks. They’re probably used to keep them conscious. Dammit, what the hell is going on in that damn club at night?”

“Look, Martha, I know you probably want to come with me, but I ask that you let me go alone.”

There was a brief pause. “You’re not wrong G-Man, I really want to go with you and not seem like a coward, but I’m still shook up about last night. I’m happy to sit in a patrol car, though just outside of Club Novus with some other officers if you think you might need some backup.”

“That could work. I’ll also let the FBI know where I’ll be, so there’s no confusion about tonight.”

“What time are you planning on getting there?”

“Same time as the last two nights. Around 9:00.”

“Copy that. I’ll be watching from afar. Call or text me if you need me to bust in.”

“Thanks, Martha.”

“You bet. Talk to you later.”

The call ended.

Turning on the car, I drove through the backyard and out of the driveway, heading back to the inn. I went up into my room, logged in notes on my tablet, and then called Foster at the FBI. I told him where I would be in the evening in case anything were to happen, the FBI would know that I had disappeared at Club Novus. That thought made my skin tingle. But that couldn’t happen; I was well protected. Whoever ran the operations at Club Novus, they’re smarter than that if they were the killer.

I practiced putting in the nose filters and taking them out. I was amazed at how resilient of an invention they were for it was nothing but a tube of plastic that could expand.

Pulling out my phone, I texted Vicky.

Hey, I hope you’re doing okay today. Let me know if you need someone to talk to.

I pressed the send button and then sat in my chair for a moment in silence, staring out at the window at downtown Wilton. Imagining myself living in Wilton gave a certain amount of excitement in my chest. It was relaxing to have a break from all of the noise coming from downtown Chicago. I forget the tranquility that exists outside the city sometimes. Only when I’m working on missing person cases can I find an area with solitude and plenty of open space. It filled me with sadness sometimes.

Searching online for anything regarding Club Novus came up with no results. I found it strange that not even the Wilton observer had an article about the club’s opening. Nor was there an op-ed by an irritated old-timer renouncing the existence of a nightclub in the quaint Wilton. Of course, there wasn’t even a website for Club Novus.

As dinner time loomed around, I went to Buckwheat’s for a burger. It was crowded, but I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary as I scanned the restaurant. Then I spent the rest of my time walking around Wilton as the sun started its descent. The park was an excellent spot to burn some time. I sat at a bench along the water, watching the river flow. So much of it reminded me of my childhood in Michigan.

Did I really want to go back to a place like that?

Dusk settled in. The sun had set, but the sky was still orange and purple, and fireflies were glowing around me. People were walking out of the park; 9:00 PM was just around the corner.

I went straight to Club Novus, and by the time I got there, the sky was mostly dark. The bouncer stood out front, and I handed him my blue slip.

“May I see your ID?”

I pulled it out of my wallet and showed him my driver’s license. “Third night in a row. I can’t get enough of this place. Is that embarrassing?” I said.

The bouncer looked at me with his head tucked down under his brow. “You may proceed.” He unclipped the stanchion and let me go inside.

In the vestibule with the sole blue light up above, I put in the plastic nose filter. I gazed at the bulb for a moment, wondering if it was powered by human blood like the device that Charles showed me.

The blub seemed ordinary, but then again, it stuck out of the ceiling. I couldn’t see what it was attached to.

Opening the door to the club, I strolled inside and saw a different woman as the host. I couldn’t tell faces apart because they all had the same mask, but I could differentiate by the height and body.

“Would you like a table?” She asked.

I nodded.

The host took me to a booth next to one that I had sat at previously.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, sparkling water would be great, thank you,” I said.

“You’re no fun,” she responded monotonically. But there was a slight playfulness to her voice.

“Perhaps I’ll have something later. I just want to ease into the night,” I said.

“I don’t actually care what you drink. Just don’t forget to tip.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I take care of all of my servers.”

She smirked and stared at me for a moment.

“Can I ask you something? Doesn’t that mask bother you? It looks like it weighs a lot.”

She leaned closer to me, the closest I’d been to any of the staff. Her face was inches away from me and whispered in a sultry way, “It’s actually light as a feather.”

“How did you get that mask?”

“They make them here in house.”

“That’s impressive. Do you know who makes them?”

“I imagine a crafty individual.”

“You’re probably right. Is it part of the requirement to wear it at all times?”

The server nodded.

“What happens if you take off the mask?”

“You certainly ask a lot of questions,” she said, her voice was seductive and hypnotizing.

“I guess I’m just a curious individual.”

“Or you’re a cop.”

I didn’t say anything. Internally I felt like a deer in the headlights, but I just grinned and laughed. She chuckled as well.

“I’ll be right back unless you have any more questions?”

“No, I’m satisfied.” I smiled politely.

The server left and gazed at me for a few seconds longer than she should’ve. My heart skipped a beat; even though I could barely see her eyes from under the mask, I felt hypnotized by her. I forgot to check if she had a tattoo. She’d been conversing with me far longer than any other server; she also seemed notably nicer. I was relaxed in her company.

I stared out onto the dance floor, more wailing sounds of a distorted crunch guitar with too much reverb. Heavy drums hammering through speakers every so often. People moved along with the sounds, though. I could hardly consider it music. Maybe those young people were on drugs, perhaps an effect of whatever molecule was in the fog.

Did I dance like that the previous two nights? It’s entirely possible.

The server came back with my drink and placed it in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said and looked at her arm as she walked away. She indeed had a tattoo, but I couldn’t make out what it was. “Excuse me!”

She stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

I dug through my pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “This is for you.”

“You’re too kind. Thank you.”

“Of course. I know I’ve asked some other people here, and they seemed sensitive to the question. So if you don’t feel comfortable answering, that’s fine, but I was curious about your tattoo. What is it, and where did you get it?”

“Thinking about getting one for yourself?”

“I guess the thought has always been there.” My lip curled up.

“We can talk more about tattoos when you’ve made up your mind.” She grinned and walked away.

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. It seemed so absurd that tattoos were such a taboo topic. As I sipped my sparkling water like a potent scotch, time dragged on. The hours melted by, I saw a few servers take some of the dancing people by the hand and lead them to the back. Martha texted me asking how everything was going, and I said: The usual unusualness.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom. Inside was a dark singular room; it was also foggy with only a blue light bulb on up above. I was only in there for 2 minutes before walking back out. I surveyed the club, and in the booth next to me, someone had fallen asleep. A server walked up to them and whispered something in their ear. The person nodded, stood up, and walked out of the club. Then I looked at another table all the way to the right. Through the fog, someone was slouching over, again, a server talked to them, and they nodded, heading towards the exit. It was close to midnight.

I returned to my table. On my way, I noticed other people were leaving, but they were drifting out like zombies. No one was on the dance floor, but the music still droned on. Sitting down, I looked out at the rest of the nightclub, and a chill rattled my spine.

Every server in the club stared at me with their mask on. From left to right, everyone had their eyes fixed on me. I reached for my gun in my shirt pocket, I didn’t pull it out, but I just kept in my hand on the grip.

The music stopped. The fog still thick in the air.

Within my line of sight, 10 people stood like statues. The clacking rhythm of heels echoed through the club. A figure emerged from the fog, another woman whose body I didn’t recognize, but then again, a lot of them looked the same. I pulled my hand back as she approached my table. She put her arms on top, leaning forward.

“How are you doing tonight, sir?” She asked in a breathy voice and smiled.

“I’m doing pretty well, thank you. How are you?”

The server who waited on me earlier approached us, standing next to the taller woman.

“Would you like to go to the backroom for some after-hours fun?” the new woman asked me.

“That would be wonderful. Do I need anything special? Like a pass, or--“

“Just come as you are.” She reached out with her hand open.

I held her hand and slid out of the booth.

“Allow me to take your other hand,” my original server said.

“That’s quite all right, thank you, though.”

“Please, I insist. I’d love to hold your hand,” she said.

“Please, hold her hand, won’t you?” the other woman asked.

Much to my chagrin, I obliged. I was being guided by both women. Their hands were warm while mine were slightly cold. Walking through the fog, The rest of the staff in the club stared at me with their masks on. I could see their silhouettes from the periphery.

They took me to the back of the club, exposed brick wall with a door guarded by a man wearing next to nothing but a mask.

“We have an extraordinary guest with us,” my server said.

“Right this way, you three. Have fun.” The man grinned as he opened the door.

Both ladies giggled.