‘Where did you get these?’ Digby asked, never taking his eyes off of the photos in his hands,
‘And what’s happened to her?’
‘Doesn’t matter how I got them. And I can’t tell you if anything has happened to her. I was
hoping you would have answers for me.”
‘It might matter a lot ta me who gave you these photos, but I think you’re already figuring
that out for yourself,’ Digby turned and walked back into the narrow hallway, ‘And close the door
behind you.’
I pulled the door behind me, giving it an extra tug because of the warping of the wood, and
followed Digby into his studio. It fit the bill of what I expected; a series of backdrops rolled up
loosely in one corner, in another was a small unmade bed that probably did double duty, there
were studio lights, cameras on a long crowded work table, a few wooden folding chairs and a
small door with a red light bulb above it. This was obviously the darkroom.
‘So where do you think I can find Twilight?’ I asked while taking a seat on one of the wooden
chairs, ‘If that’s the name you know her by.’
‘Twilight? Doesn’t surprise me, but that’s not ta name I know. Celine, that’s da woman I
knew,’ Digby moved a few things around on the work table and fished out a bottle of whiskey and
gave himself a solid pour into a nearby coffee mug, ‘I make it my business not to get close, or
comfortable with anyone I shoot, but Celine — well you tell me, how do you keep your distance?’
‘So you have no idea where I can find her? Or anyone who might have seen or talked about
her recently?’
‘If she doesn’t want to be found, maybe that’s the way you should leave it,’ Digby set his mug
down.
‘Well I’m not the only hound sniffing and they might not be the warm and fuzzy hounds if you
catch my drift. Just give me something substantial to go on and you’d be doing her a favor.’
Digby looked me in the eyes trying to sort me out. I must have passed because he rummaged
around and grabbed a binder from the work table.
‘You ever meet those people who unravel your threads and you wake up one morning and
their nowhere to be found and you realize you’ve been totally undone? Celine is one of those
people and ya know there’s a price, ya know it’s all a gamble, but ya take the bet every time. But
the house always wins. At least I hope that’s still true.’
Digby handed me the binder that was opened to a page with a letter and an envelope. I looked
down at the letter signed by Celine and recognized the handwriting from the back of the photos. I
looked up at Digby and he gave me a slight nod of his head. I pulled out the letter and read it
closely. It was the usual type of stuff between people who shared a history and there were a few
cryptic lines that seemed more suited to a poem than in a letter.
‘Yeah, so she has literary chops. I am still in the dark and time is running out.’
Continued on page - 99
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THE CONE - ISSUE #15 - 2018