Book of Shadows (29 page)

“It is over.”

Bess’s head snapped towards her.

Marisa said, “Robert is over.”

Across the room Edith, who was engrossed in the
Times
crossword puzzle, shook her head and muttered under her breath.

Marisa whispered behind her hand. “Is she talking about us?”

“No. She’s probably talking about Gina. Every so often Gina tries to work that puzzle herself, which really irritates Edith. Edith doesn’t like anybody touching the puzzle before she gets it. Today’s Sunday, right? Well, Edith won’t go to bed until she finishes that thing. Doesn’t matter how late she has to stay up. She won’t sleep until every square is filled in.”

“With Gina’s help.”

Bess nodded. “With Gina’s help. Edith’s real good at those things. Hey, Edith, what are you working on?”

The small woman didn’t look up. “The Roman libra.”

“The Roman what?”

“Libra. It’s Latin for pound. British money. You know, L, B, period?”

Bess grinned. “Never thought about it that much.” He said to Marisa, “See what I mean? Hey Edith, tell us something else we don’t need to know.”

She said, “Seven letters, chief bridge builder, Catholic. God, what did Gina do? She’s done some things here I’ll never figure out. I’m waiting, Joseph.”

“Mmmmm,” said Bess. “A Catholic who’s also a chief bridge builder. Seven letters. Gina didn’t figure that one out, I gather.”

Edith shook her head. “She’s done enough damage.” She looked up at Bess. Well?”

He threw up his hands. “I surrender.”

“Pontiff,” said Edith. “That’s what the pope is called. Comes from the Latin
pontifex maximus,
meaning chief bridge builder. The Romans used to call their high priest that and the Catholics shortened the title and used it. Shows you how much pagans still influence us. So-called pagans, I should say.”

Marisa eyed her carefully then said, “Edith, you seem to know quite a bit about Romans.”

Bess shook his head. “It’s got nothing to do with Romans. Blame it on Mr. Gupta.”

Edith said, “In India my husband was taught by British teachers and they pounded a lot of their history into his head.”

Marisa said, “I still don’t see what that has to do with Rome.”

“Rome ruled Britain for a while,” said Bess. “Mr. Gupta learned about Rome because it’s part of British history.”

Edith nodded. “That’s right. The Romans built British roads that are still used today. Aqueducts, too. They founded London. Londinium, they called it.”

Marisa whispered, “And Julius Caesar tried to destroy the Druids.” She didn’t take her eyes from Edith.

Edith said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

Bess kept his eyes on Marisa as he spoke. “Marisa wanted to know how you came to know all this stuff.”

“Oh, that. Well, my husband got me started. He began talking about what he’d learned in school as a boy and I just sort of picked up on the Romans and England. Actually, I’ve got a very good memory. I can read something once or twice and it’s up here.” She tapped her temple. “I’ve been reading about Rome for years.”

The telephone rang and Marisa flinched. Bess took her hand and said, “Will you get that Edith?”

Edith stood up. “You know it’s for you, Joseph. But I’ll get it.”

When he and Marisa were alone, Bess said, “I know what you’re driving at, but forget it. There’s no way Edith could be involved.”

“Joseph!”
yelled Edith. “It’s for you, naturally.”

Bess stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

Marisa stared straight ahead and saw nothing. Onscreen the actress portraying Queen Elizabeth I refused to stay the execution of Lord Essex.

The elusive thought that had bothered Marisa since Alison Sales and Cornell Castle had tried to kill her was now taking shape in her mind.

Bess hurriedly entered the room. He was putting on his jacket. “Got to go.”

Marisa’s jaw dropped in panic.

Bess said, “Denise Vandis. She called the station house and they’ve just called me. She claims she can prove who killed her son and wants to see me right away.”

Marisa was on her feet. “You can’t. Not now.”

Bess clipped on his belt holster and gun. “She’s scared out of her mind and won’t talk to anybody but me. She told them if anyone else shows up, she won’t open the door. It’s got to be me.”

Marisa ran to him. “What about your partner? Why can’t he go instead?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to my partner. Besides, Felix is meeting me there. If Denise Vandis has information about the people who are trying to kill you, I want to know about it. Whoever snuffed Gregory is involved with the people who are after you. You’re safe here. Just don’t open the door for anybody. I mean
anybody.
We’re on the top floor and there’s no fire escape.”

He turned and pointed towards a window. “A person would have to be half bird to risk climbing down from the roof and going under that overhang. Can’t be done. Nothing to hold onto and it’s eight stories straight down into some very hard concrete. There’s no fire escape. There is one next door, but to get here from there you’ve got to make your way along a ledge that’s maybe two, three inches wide and that calls for a lot of luck. Nobody’s tried it that I know of.”

He looked at his watch. “Almost eight-thirty. Shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours. Just keep the door locked.”

And he was running across the room and then the door was opened and he’d slammed it behind him. “Lock it!” he yelled from the hall.

Edith Gupta quickly crossed the room and locked the door.

Joseph Bess and Felix Plante looked down at the body.

“Neighbors heard yelling, screaming, all kinds of carrying on,” said Felix. “Her and some guy. Super out in the hall says it wasn’t the first time. Woman next door says she’s seen a whole bunch of gentlemen callers come in and out of here. Super says the same thing. Seems Mrs. Vandis liked her fun.”

“Fun’s over,” said Bess. “Jesus, look at her.”

Felix nodded. “Whoever wasted her wasn’t kidding around. The lady is very, very dead.”

“No signs of forced entry. No signs of a struggle. Place ain’t much but it’s neat. Front door was single locked, so her keys must be around here somewhere. Super used his passkey to let us in, so we know nobody stole his key and ran off with it.”

Bess touched Denise Vandis’s lifeless hand. “Call came in to the precinct twenty-five minutes ago. Supposedly from her. Except I’d say she’s been dead a lot longer than that.”

“Looks that way,” said Felix. He gently worked the dead woman’s thumb. “Rigor’s setting in. Damn right she’s been dead longer than twenty-five minutes.”

Denise Vandis, wearing only a flowered housecoat, sat upright in an upholstered chair with a large pair of scissors in her throat up to the handle. She was barefoot and there was a look of surprise on her face.

Felix turned around. Bess was gone.

“Hey, J.B.,” said the black detective.

“In the bathroom. Come check this out.”

Felix Plante joined him. Bess held up a small waste-basket. “Look inside,” he said, “but don’t touch it.”

The black detective stared at the empty bottle of brown hair dye lying on top of trash and rags.

“Found it under the basin,” said Bess. “Denise Vandis is a blonde.”

“Was a blonde.”

Bess said, “Something’s going on, brother man.” Bess pointed to the empty bottle. “I’ll bet my left nut she’s been dead for at least two hours, which means she couldn’t have made that call.”

“Who did?” Bess shoved the wastebasket at Felix and pushed past him.

Plante said, “What’s the rush?”

“Calling my apartment. If what I think is about to happen …”

He was at the phone, picking up the receiver with a handkerchief and using his ballpoint pen to dial. “Somewhere in my head a voice is screaming at me, telling me I’ve been had. Somebody wanted me out of the way and they knew just how to do it.”

Bess listened and gently pounded the air with a clenched fist, muttering softly, “Come on, come on.”

Then he hung up. “I’m leaving.”

“Where?”

“My apartment. No answer, but I know three people are there. Somebody should have answered. It’s going to happen at my apartment, man, and there ain’t a fucking thing I can do to stop it. I’ve been set up. They wanted to get to Marisa and they fucking took me out of the picture with one phone call. They’re coming for her, but she’s not alone. My kid’s there with her and Edith.”

Felix frowned.

Bess said, “Stay here. Somebody’s got to talk to the lab boys and get them started. Then as soon as you can, get over to my place. I’m going to need some help. Some bad shit’s about to go down over there. Don’t—don’t ask me now. I’ll tell you later and you aren’t going to believe a fucking word of it.”

A frightened Joseph Bess turned and ran.

W
ITH JOSEPH BESS OUT
of the apartment, a nervous Marisa had focused her attention on Edith Gupta, someone with a knowledge of Roman England and therefore Celtic and Druid customs. But the small, shy woman hadn’t come near Marisa. True, Edith Gupta had been in a hurry to lock the front door, but after that all she’d done was announce her intention to take a bath and dry her hair, actions no more diabolical than those of a gerbil.

With the bath over, she’d gone to Joseph Bess’s bedroom where she could leisurely dry her hair rather than tie up the bathroom any longer than necessary. Edith Gupta smelled of bubble bath and shampoo, but she didn’t smell of ritual murder. Gina was watching a Disney film on television and Marisa decided to go to her room and study her script. With double locks on the front door, no fire escapes at the windows, and Joseph Bess due back soon, there was nothing to worry about.

And so when Marisa discovered that one of the two people now in the apartment with her was a part of the terror that had almost killed her, the shock was physically painful. It was as if she had been stabbed in the heart with an icicle.

She had given up on reading the script; she was in no mood to concentrate, so instead she lay on the bed, the bedroom door open, and idly thumbed through the Sunday
Times
magazine section. She barely saw the bathing suit and perfume ads and she ignored the delicious Ted Lapidus clothes for the first time in her life. But she did see the crossword puzzle Edith Gupta had been working on.

Gina had tried her hand at it too. Marisa smiled when she saw the words written in purple ink, Gina’s favorite color. The young girl had gotten at least two correct answers, maybe more. Marisa checked Gina’s entries and when she came to one, Marisa frowned at what Gina had written, then sat up in bed.

The pieces suddenly came together in Marisa’s mind. Now she remembered what Alison Sales and Cornell Castle had said in her apartment and she remembered why it had bothered her.

Marisa was on her feet and staring at the crossword. Closing her eyes, she shuddered. There was no doubt in her mind that she might not live until Joseph Bess returned, that she was now in the worst danger of her life. Could she stay alive until Bess got back? Would he believe what Marisa had to tell him?

Her instincts said Run.
Save your life. Flee the apartment. Don’t stay here with
her.

But Marisa couldn’t leave without warning the other one, without trying to convince her that the two of them had to leave the apartment immediately. Get outside and stay with the police until Joseph Bess returned.

With the puzzle in her hand, Marisa hurried from the bedroom and started towards Joseph Bess’s bedroom.

The television set was still on, but the living room was empty.

And then the door to Joseph Bess’s bedroom opened slowly and Gina backed out, quietly closing the door behind her.

When the girl turned and saw Marisa, she froze, her unblinking eyes on the actress.

“Edith is sleeping,” said Gina. “She told me she didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Marisa held up the crossword puzzle. “Where are they, Gina? Are they downstairs? In the hall? Where?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re a liar.”

Gina’s voice was calm, level. “If you’ll tell me who you’re talking about, maybe I can help you.”

“The call themselves the Comforts, but I bet that’s not their real name.” Marisa held the crossword out to the child. “What’s snapdragon, Gina?”

“I’m going to watch television. You’re weird.” She started to walk past Marisa, who stepped into her path, forcing the girl to stand still.

Marisa said, “Snapdragon. It’s a very old game in England, isn’t it? Goes back a long, long way. You use your fingers to take raisins from a dish of flaming brandy. A very old game in England, but not over here. No one plays snapdragon over here.”

“Snapdragon’s a flower. Everybody knows that.”

“That’s what you should have written. Instead you wrote
contest.
It’s here in purple ink. Seven letters across, and you put
contest.
You should have written ‘blossom.’ That would have gotten you off the hook.”

Marisa sighed. “I did some reading on Druids, on Celts, on English history, and I came across ‘snapdragon’ once or twice. But never as a flower. Always as a game.”

Gina narrowed her eyes. “You’re crazy, lady. You are crazy. When my father gets back, I’m going to have him kick you out. I don’t want you in my room.”

“He’s not your father, Gina.”

The child leaned her head back and studied Marisa carefully.

The actress said, “When Alison Sales and Cornell Castle came to kill me and get the
Book of Shadows,
they mentioned that I had three days off and no one would miss me if I wasn’t around during that time. I never mentioned my time off to Robert, who wouldn’t have cared anyway. Robert cares about Robert, period.”

“You could have told Aunt Edith.”

“You can stop with the ‘Aunt Edith’ stuff, too. Your ‘Aunt Edith’ was on the phone with one of your fa—with one of Joseph’s informants while I was in this room talking to you. I told
you
I had three days off. You and no one else. You had to be the one who told Alison Sales and Cornell Castle.”

Gina’s breathing was heavier. “They’re on the way here to kill you. My grandfather and my grandmother will burn you alive.”