An Affair Of Sorcerers

Chapter 15

True to her word, a beaming April grabbed me as I walked into Kathy's room. She joyfully mauled me, then started on Garth.

"Where's Kathy?" I asked, nodding toward the empty bed.

"They have her a floor below, in a special-treatment center," April said, wiping away tears of happiness. "Dr. Greene said something about lithium poisoning. The point is that they can clean the poison out of her body now. He's convinced she's strong enough to survive." She paused, put a hand to her mouth and hiccuped, then laughed and hugged me again. "You saved her life twice, Robert. First from the fire in the apartment, and then when you brought Esteban to her."

"Where's Esteban now?"

"He's gone with Senator Younger and Linda to their hotel suite; he can work with Linda there."

"What about Daniel?"

April's eyes clouded for a moment and she shook her head. "I don't know where my brother is," she said distantly. "I haven't heard anything from him since he was here last." She sighed, brightened. "But that's not unusual for him. God, I can hardly believe that Kathy's going to be all right!"

I accepted April's kiss on the mouth, and felt a thrill shudder through my body as I kissed her back. I caught Garth watching us, a bemused smile on his face. I flushed, cleared my throat and looked away. Garth knew.

Joshua Greene emerged from the elevator at the end of the hall, saw us and fairly skipped down the corridor. His dark eyes and white, even teeth shone in his ebony flesh. "Good news, huh?" he asked, grinning broadly.

"To say the least," I replied. "Is Kathy. . really going to be all right?"

Joshua nodded. "She'd been poisoned with a massive dose of lithium. Lithium occurs naturally in the body, and it's hard to trace without a specific test for it. She should be regaining consciousness soon."

"A nice piece of medical detective work, Doctor," Garth said admiringly. "We all thank you."

"I'm afraid we don't deserve the credit," Joshua said thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, Officer, I'm glad you're here. There's something I'd like you all to hear."

The doctor led us down a side corridor to a small office. Garth, April and I went in, and Joshua closed the door behind us. "We'd have discovered the lithium eventually," Joshua continued, "but perhaps not in time. The information that saved Kathy's life came to us in a tape recording. That's what I want you to listen to."

Joshua opened a drawer and took out a small tape cassette, which he placed on a playback machine he'd already set up. There was about fifteen seconds of silence; then a voice began speaking. The voice was eerily distorted into a metallic, wailing tone, a kind of electronic falsetto which made it impossible even to tell whether the speaker was a man or a woman. The voice quickly described what had been done to Kathy: a large dose of lithium injected anally so that no needle mark would show. The approximate dosage was given, and then the tape abruptly went silent.

"That's it," Joshua said, shutting off the machine. He ejected the cassette and handed it to Garth.

"How did you get the tape, Doctor?" Garth asked, putting the cassette in his pocket.

"It came this morning, by Special Delivery. I'm sorry if I've ruined any fingerprints on it."

Garth shook his head. "I doubt there would be any fingerprints on it to begin with. Whoever sent this is too clever to leave obvious tracks."

We all stood in stunned silence for a few moments. It was Garth who finally broke the silence.

"Does the voice on the tape mean anything to you, Mrs. Marlowe?"

April slowly shook her head. "No," she said softly. "It sounds like some kind of machine."

"It means that someone in Esobus' coven got cold feet," I said.

"I'll take Kathy away from here," April said with a heavy sigh. "We'll go someplace where no one can ever hurt her again."

"We'll get whoever is responsible, Mrs. Marlowe," Garth said tautly. "We don't want any other little girls to be hurt." He turned to me. "It looks like we have you to thank for smoking out whoever made this tape."

"Maybe we should be thanking Daniel," I heard myself saying. I was distracted by all the new questions raised by the recording. "Then again, this tape may have been sent for an altogether different reason."

Joshua cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I must get back to Kathy now. Mongo, don't forget to come in for your shot tomorrow."

"Thank you, Doctor," Garth said as the thin black man walked from the room.

April turned to me and took my hand. "Now, at least, you can rest and take care of yourself."

"And I'll take you home," Garth added, putting one of his large, strong hands on my shoulder.

"Hey," I said, pulling away and almost falling over. "I've still got a client."

Garth frowned. "What the hell-? Who?"

"Kathy," I said evenly. "She gave me all the money she had to find her father's book of shadows. I figure I haven't earned my fee yet."

Garth walked me out of the hospital. "You know," he said wryly, "that remark about the girl giving you all her worldly goods in order to help her father sounds like the punch line from a Christmas story."

"Yeah. I'm a sentimentalist."

"You want a beer?"

"Not really." The excitement surrounding Kathy's pending recovery and the strange tape recording had made me temporarily forget my aches and pains. Now they all came back; I felt as if I were collapsing in on myself. My thumb and stomach were beating an excruciatingly painful rhythm, in unison. "Christ, Garth, I'm tired. I think I'll go home and sleep for a week." "That sounds like a remarkably intelligent statement, coming from you. What are you going to do when you wake up?"

"You know the answer to that."

He grunted. "I do. That's why I want to talk. Come on. You should eat something, anyway. Try to stay awake long enough for a little conversation."

We walked two blocks to a diner, where we sat in a back booth. Garth ordered two club sandwiches and coffee, while I settled for poached eggs and tea. Garth seemed unusually thoughtful.

"I think you're right about the tape," he said at last. "Someone in the group had second thoughts."

"Sure. The question is-who?"

"You've been ahead of us on this thing from the beginning, Mongo. Now I guarantee you're going to see a little more action from the Police Department. This tape is the first real evidence we've had that a crime was committed."

"That's profoundly debatable; I just haven't had time to jack you guys up."

Garth smiled thinly. "Let's assume you did flush someone out. Who would it be?"

"Christ, Garth, I don't know. And I'm too sick and tired to think about it now."

"Who have you been talking to?"

"You know who I've been talking to," I said with a shrug that caused a painful jolt in my stomach. "I'm certain Peth is in this up to his triple chins, and that's who I plan to start working on when I feel stronger."

Garth shook his head. "Leave Peth alone. Let us handle him. We'll put a tail on him and see which way he crawls. At the moment, all we have is the fact that he mentioned Daniel."

"He attacked me."

"That too. But I don't want you stomping around and messing things up."

"Hey, brother; Peth's the only real lead I've got, and I'm the guy who found him. I don't know who Daniel's contacted, and I'm not likely to find out."

Garth nodded. He finished his first sandwich and started on the second. "We're going to be looking for Crandall, too" he said around a mouthful of sandwich. He reached across the table and punched me lightly on the arm. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"For a few days; until I feel better, and the doctor tells me I'm out of danger from the rabies. But then, like I told you, I've got a client." I lifted my throbbing, bandaged thumb and waggled it at him. "I've taken a personal interest in this case."

"You take a personal interest in every case. Have you got any other candidates besides Peth?"

"Sure. Krowl could know something-in fact, I'd bet a year's salary on it. But he's not going to crack easily."

Garth stared into his coffee for a long time, then pushed the remaining half of the second sandwich aside. "Krowl's going to have some explaining to do for me," he said at last.

"Meaning what?"

Garth looked up at me and smiled crookedly. "In honor of your corny Christmas story, I'm going to give you a little gift: information." He laughed when I made a gesture of mock astonishment. "Try not to have a stroke. I got a call from one of the men who searched that rathole where your friend died. As a matter of fact, he called me just before you did. Have you been wondering what Davidson did with all the money he earned while he was on top?"

"The question occurred to me."

"They found something interesting in Davidson's clothes," he said. "It was a will; meaningless, because he died without any assets-at least, none that we've been able to find. Apparently he was too far gone to realize that."

"What did the will say?" I asked, leaning forward.

"He was leaving everything he thought he had to an outfit calling itself the Mystic Eye Institute. Now, I just happen to know that Mystic Eye is a group headed by our mutual friend John Krowl."

I fell asleep in the car on my way back to my apartment, and Garth had to shake me awake when we arrived. I got out and made it up to my apartment, then fell onto the bed without even taking off my shoes.

I woke up at seven in the evening, my thumb throbbing painfully. I got up, took three aspirins, then tried to go back to sleep. It was no use. I still felt rotten and exhausted, but the few hours' sleep had been just enough to juice up my mental circuits to the point where all the events of the past few days came flooding back into my thoughts. I knew for certain that I wouldn't be able to truly relax until the case had been wrapped up and I'd looked into the faces of the people responsible for trying to kill a seven-year-old child. I decided it couldn't hurt to think about it. And maybe just walk around a bit, if I felt I absolutely had to.

My head felt fuzzy, but I was hungry. I made myself soup and a sandwich; the food stayed down, and I started to feel better. I shaved, showered and put on my bathrobe, intending to relax for a few hours with some music and a book. I called the hospital and was assured once again that Kathy was in satisfactory condition. When I asked to have my call switched to Madeline's room, I was told that the scientist had been released that morning. I reached Mad at her apartment.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded normal.

"Hi, babe. It's Mongo. How are you feeling?"

"Much better, my friend. Thank you. What about you?"

"I'm feeling about half. Listen; I just wanted you to know that the little girl is going to be all right."

"Thank God," Mad whispered intently. "Were they finally able to diagnose what was wrong with her?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, somebody sent a tape recording describing exactly what the problem was. Pressure was felt somewhere. I don't know whether I had anything to do with applying it, but I want to thank you again for supplying me with the information you did."

"It was nothing," Mad said, sounding immensely relieved. "I'm just so glad the girl is going to live."

"Mad, have you ever heard of the Mystic Eye Institute?"

"Why, yes," she said after a moment's hesitation. "It's an occult-studies school run by John Krowl. Why?"

"Just curious. Can anyone join?"

"Yes, as far as I know," she replied, sounding puzzled. "It's just a school. John and a few other people give lectures and conduct seminars on the occult arts."

"Then there's nothing particularly secretive about it?"

"No. As a matter of fact, it's listed in the phone book. Mongo, are you still investigating this Esobus thing?"

"Yeah. Do you have any idea how Mystic Eye is funded?"

"I don't know for certain, but I assume it's supported by membership and lecture fees. I've never had much to do with it; too public." She paused, added, "Mongo, do you think John has something to do with the people who harmed the girl?"

"I don't know, Mad. That's what I'm trying to find out."

I tried to relax with a book, but I couldn't remember what I was reading from one page to the next. The pain in my stomach and thumb seemed to be calming down, and I was hungry again. I ate another sandwich and felt even better. I knew I should stay home and rest as I'd planned to do, but I couldn't. I was restless, and easily convinced myself that a little ride and chat couldn't do much damage. I got dressed, went out into the night and took a cab to Krowl's brownstone in Brooklyn.

It took some talking to get past Krowl's surprised secretary, who told me that no one ever came to see John Krowl without an appointment, and that he'd have to call the giant Jonathan if I didn't leave. I told him I was sure Krowl would want to see me, as I had some information about Esobus and the Mystic Eye Institute. I purposely put the two names in conjunction just to see what Krowl's reaction would be.

The ploy got me in to see Krowl. The albino was waiting for me in his sitting/reading room, his long white hair and parchment flesh forming a striking contrast to his purple Oriental smoking jacket, black slacks and shoes.

"What do you want, Frederickson?" Krowl snapped, his pink eyes flashing angrily. "What's this nonsense about Esobus and the Mystic Eye Institute?"

"I don't know; I thought I'd ask you. What is the Mystic Eye Institute? I thought maybe I'd join."

"You're not welcome," Krowl said evenly.

I opened my eyes wide in mock horror. "Don't tell me you discriminate against dwarfs!"

"You're not interested in the occult; your only interest is prying into other people's business."

"Harley Davidson must have found the curriculum fascinating. I understand he gave you all his money. When he was working, that must have amounted to a million dollars, or more."

Krowl frowned. "Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter. It's true, isn't it?"

Krowl shoved his spectral, chalk-colored hands into the pockets of his smoking jacket and began to pace back and forth. "Harley Davidson thought enough of our work to make a few sizable donations," he said at last. "But that's not unusual; a number of my clients have joined Mystic Eye and donated money. What of it?"

"I don't know, Krowl," I said, trying unsuccessfully to look into his eyes. "But I'll tell you the real reason I came here: I keep stumbling over victims who started out as hand casts on your wall."

Krowl stiffened, quickly drew his smoked glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on. Now he looked at me. "Get out of here, you little bastard!" he snarled. "And don't come back! The next time you show up here, Jonathan will meet you at the door. You and I have nothing more to talk about. You seem to think that I have something to do with these people you're after!"

The smoked glasses resembled two huge insect eyes on his colorless face. "I never said that," I replied softly to the eyes.

"And I'll sue you if you do, Frederickson! I don't involve myself with witchcraft at all."

"Maybe not, but I'm betting you know a lot of people who do. Did you talk to Esobus after I left here the other night?"

He laughed thinly, without humor. "What are you talking about?" he snorted. "Esobus is a fairy tale."

"Bullshit. I'm betting that particular fairy tale is damn well upset right now. Somebody in his coven doesn't quite live up to the going standard of nastiness. The hospital received a tape recording explaining what was wrong with the child. Thanks to whoever sent it, the girl's going to live."

I watched for a reaction; there was none. The black insect eyes simply stared back at me. Finally, Krowl said: "I'm glad the child is out of danger, but I'm going to give you a warning. I have no idea who the people are that you're after, but there's no doubt that you're on a fishing expedition-and you're fishing in my home. This time you came close to making accusations: I resent that. I've told you I know nothing about this matter, but you don't believe me. Have it your way: If you think I'm involved, prove it. Otherwise, I advise you to stay away from here. And keep your mouth shut." He paused, coughed dryly; it was a soft, slightly menacing sound. "I'll have your license, Frederickson. Believe me; I have very powerful friends."

I believed him, and I knew I'd probably made a mistake in coming to see him. I was on a fishing expedition, and Krowl didn't have to be a genius to know it. If he was involved with the coven, he was now definitely on notice that I was looking him over. The powerful friends he'd mentioned could easily chew me up and spit me out in the various regulatory agencies I was responsible to. I was going to have to back off until I could gather more evidence.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Krowl was totally ignorant of Esobus and his works, as Krowl claimed.

I doubted it. He'd never even bothered to ask what had been wrong with Kathy.

After a good night's sleep I rose at ten, feeling fairly decent. I ate a light breakfast and went over to the Medical Center for my shot. On the way it occurred to me that exactly one week before I'd been happily drumming away, planning to while away the rest of the summer nibbling at the Big Apple. I'd ended up with a mouthful of worms. It seemed years since I'd rolled up my practice pencils into the Tchaikovsky score and filed the package away in my drawer.

Kathy had been moved from Intensive Care into a private room. She was out of the coma, but under heavy sedation as a result of the washing-out process she was undergoing. I was allowed to look in on her; as I stood next to her bed looking down on her peacefully sleeping body, I felt tears of gratitude well in my eyes. I waited a few minutes, hoping that April would show up. She didn't, and I went downstairs to keep my appointment with Joshua Greene.

By now the injection procedure was becoming a familiar-if no more pleasant-ritual. After the shot, a nurse brought me tea and Joshua left me alone to dress. On my way out of the room I almost bumped into an excited and flushed April who was carrying a shopping bag that looked heavy. As always when I saw her, I experienced a small rush in my stomach and chest that had absolutely nothing to do with rabies shots.

"Robert!" she cried. "I was just on my way over to your apartment. I met Dr. Greene in the elevator and he told me you were down here."

"Ah, and you come bearing gifts," I said, smiling and pointing to the bag.

"It may be something better," April said, her voice taut and humming with excitement. "After you left yesterday, I drove home to Philadelphia to look for those things of Frank's I told you about. Now that Kathy's going to be all right, I thought it was time I tried to help you and Garth." She used both hands to lift the bag. "Here's what I found."

My heart began to pound as I took the bag from her and carried it over to an examining table. "Is this all there was?"

"I don't know, but this is definitely what he brought last Saturday. I recognized the bag. There may be more in other parts of the attic, but I wanted to bring this to you as quickly as possible."

Slowly and carefully, I began to take the items from the bag and lay them out on the table. There were a number of books on witchcraft, most of which looked academic and sophisticated. Many of the pages were heavily annotated in what April confirmed was Frank Marlowe's handwriting. There were also three notebooks, which I skimmed through quickly. They consisted of research notes on witchcraft and the occult in general. There was no mention of Esobus, or a supercoven.

At the bottom of the bag was a leather carrying case which contained a tiny tape recorder of the sort a person can strap to his body in order to make surreptitious recordings. There was also a small spool of recording tape.

"Have you listened to this yet?" I asked April, picking up the tape.

She shook her head and gripped my arm. "I'm not sure how the machine works; I was afraid I'd break the tape, or erase it."

I put the tape in the machine, turned it on.

"Black Bull of the north, Horned One, Dark Ruler of the mountains and all that lies beneath them, Prince of the Powers of Earth, be present, we pray Thee, and guard this circle from all perils approaching from the north!"

The chant was repeated twice. April whispered in my ear: "It's an invocation of protection. It may be the coven!" I nodded as another, lone voice came on the tape.

"Whence come you?"

"I travel east in search of light."

"What passwords dost thou bring Esobus?"

"Perfect love and perfect trust."

April gasped, and I shut off the machine. "It's Frank, isn't it?" I asked softly.

She slowly nodded, her eyes wide with shock. "Yes. It's Frank's voice. What we're hearing is an initiation ceremony."

"Frank's initiation ceremony."

"And the other voice …" I turned the machine back on.

"I, the Guardian of the watchtower of the north, forbid thee entrance. Thou canst not enter this holy place from the north, save thou first be purified and consecrated. Who vouches for you?"

A third voice came on the tape; it was distant and muffled, barely audible.

"I, guide of souls, do so. Let Bart Stone be one of us."

The tape ran out; I rewound it and played it over again twice. April went to a corner of the room and stood leaning against the wall, her hands to her temples. The third voice that had come in was totally unrecognizable. Obviously, Frank Marlowe had wired himself for his initiation ceremony, but the tiny recorder had picked up only the sounds of the group's chanting, Marlowe's own voice-and the voice of the coven leader. That voice had been amplified and distorted.

"The leader," April said tensely. "It sounds just like the voice on the tape that was delivered to the hospital."

"That's right. It is the same person."

"Robert, what does it mean?"

"It means you were wrong about Frank not being a part of Esobus' coven." I paused and carefully started replacing the items in the shopping bag. What I was thinking was so off-the-wall that it threatened to turn the entire case inside out, blowing away a major assumption I'd been operating on up to that point. Yet the evidence offered by the two tapes appeared to point to one, inescapable conclusion. I finally put my thoughts into words, if only to hear how insane they sounded when spoken aloud. "It also means-or seems to mean-that the person responsible for saving Kathy's life is Esobus himself."

Taking the shopping bag with me, I got into a cab outside the Medical Center and gave the driver directions to take me to Garth's precinct station house. I got there just as Garth came hurrying out the door. I intercepted him on the way to his car.

"Hey, brother," I said, hoisting the bag in his direction. "Wait up. I've got something here you're definitely going to want to check out."

"Not now, Mongo," Garth said tensely, brushing past me. He started to slide into the car, then motioned for me to get in beside him. "Come on. I guess you've earned the right to see this-if that's the way to put it."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, knowing from Garth's tone that I wasn't going to like it.

"Our elusive friend Crandall got himself lost permanently. He's dead."