Do Not Go Gentle (42 page)

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Authors: James W. Jorgensen

Tags: #Speculative Fiction Suspense, #9781629290072, #supernatural, #Suspense, #paranormal, #thriller, #James W Jorgensen, #Eternal Press, #gentle, #Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, #CFS, #fatigue, #exhaustion, #headaches, #migraines, #magic, #detective, #evil, #good, #Celtic, #depression, #grief, #loss, #suicide, #nightmare

BOOK: Do Not Go Gentle
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“You are not seriously going to tell me that Tomás da Silva was killed by two girls?”

“Well, they are actually young women. They carry guns and they know how to use them. According to police statements, they tailed da Silva from a meeting. For whatever reason, da Silva went from this meeting to a house in north Dorchester, where Griffin and his sidekicks were meeting with some people. I don't know who at this point. When they came out, da Silva grabbed Griffin and held a knife to his throat. After having them drive to the Griffin house and head inside, da Silva attempted to get everyone in the living room so he could eliminate them. Instead, one of the twins stepped out in front of him and another from his side. They practically blew his head off.”

Sedecla said nothing for several moments. Then a scream of primal rage erupted from her throat. She flung her hands wide and power burst out from them, shattering the wine flute and sending shards deep into the bathroom door, which splintered and burst in two. One part reeled back on its hinges like a drunkard, and the other toppled slowly to the floor like a gigantic tree felled by a lumberjack. The mirrors shattered, and the glass lighting globes above the double sinks disintegrated into a fine powder that drifted slowly to the floor. Several of the light bulbs popped, leaving the bathroom in a gloomy half-light. Zahava leapt up from where she sat—on the floor at the foot of Sedecla's massive bed—looking with unabashed horror at the bathroom, which now looked like a bombsite.

When Sedecla was finished, she took several ragged breaths, and then raised the phone back to her face. “You find out every detail, then you come here first thing tomorrow morning,” she grated, her voice hoarse and ragged. “Get Choate and ibn Ezra as well. This has become intolerable.”

“As you wish, Mistress,” O'Neill quickly replied. While he could not see the destruction his news had triggered, he heard it and could imagine the aftermath. He hung up without further word.

Sedecla clicked the phone off, then whipped it savagely through the bathroom door, nearly striking a blow to Zahava that would have injured, if not killed her. To her credit, and most likely her survival, the tall woman did not flinch. She stood still and awaited orders.

After several more deep breaths, Sedecla stood. “Attend me,” she ordered, not even looking at the woman as she sprang to do her mistress' bidding. “I have much to do. Detective Griffin is not going to like how this ends.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jamie looked warily at his father and his former commander, who sat on the couch across the room. Len Hamilton stood uncomfortably by their side. Jamie and Eileen, flanked by the twins, sat on the sectional, with Louie taking up the remaining space. The girls were shopping, at their mother's insistence. “Wait just a minute now,” Jamie said, wagging an index finger from side to side. “Are these the same three men who told me that I had no business being involved? That I should leave this to the professionals? That there was nothing linking Sedecla to the Raisin Killer case?”

Frank Griffin and Len Hamilton glared at Jamie. Sully shook his head, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, Jamie, you know it's not nice to gloat.” Sully traded stares with Jamie for several seconds, and then continued. “You still don't have any hard evidence on her—not on the Raisin Killer case or any of the crimes committed against you and your family.”

“Ah, Jaysus on a broken-down bicycle, Sully,” Jamie said with great exasperation. “Let me review it for you again.” Jamie began holding up fingers as he spoke. “One, Cal was killed just after going to snoop around Sedecla's townhouse.”

“For which you only have the word of a drug-addled snitch,” Len Hamilton interrupted.

Jamie glowered at Hamilton and said, “May I continue please, Lenny?” Hamilton grimaced at the hated nickname, but said nothing further. “Two, Daphné and Darcelle followed a black Mercedes sedan from Sedecla's townhouse to our house and watched da Silva creep up to our porch the night they kept the bomb from going off. Three, a patron leaving the bar down from Eileen's shop reported seeing a black Mercedes just before the explosion. Four, the white van used to kidnap Riona was registered to Sedecla, and yes, she reported it ‘stolen.' How convenient, since the report wasn't filed until
after
the kidnapping. My fifth and final point is that the twins saw da Silva meeting with Peeper and Peeper's Mazzimah contact, then da Silva drove to Lucy's house, where he parked and waited for us to come to the car, and grabbed me at knifepoint, which led to what happened here.”

Frank Griffin exhaled sharply, his scar flushing crimson and anger in his blue eyes. “Damn it, Jamie.” he barked sharply. “None of that is evidence and you know it. You're a better cop than that.”

Jamie gazed calmly at his father. “I'm not a cop any more, Da, dontcha remember?”

“I give up,” Frank shouted, slapping his hands on his thighs and standing. “This is pointless.”

Sully reached out and grabbed Frank's arm. “Please, Superintendent Griffin,” he said, drawing Frank's gaze. “Please sit back down, sir. We've
got
to work with Jamie on this.”

Frank sat down heavily. “Then tell
him
that. He doesn't listen to his father. Maybe he'll listen to you.” Frank Griffin crossed his arms and sat back, looking away in disgust.

Louie cleared his throat, a sound that reminded Jamie of someone clumsily grinding through the gears of a manual transmission. “Mebbe I'm outta line, but it seems to me that you guys are angry at Jamie cuz he's making progress and you ain't.” The twins snickered but said nothing.

“You stay out of this, Lombardi,” Hamilton replied. “You got no business here.”

“He's got as much right to be here as you do, Lenny,” Jamie retorted. “He's a member of my team, and he's right. We've made a helluva lot more progress than you have.”

“Your
team
?” Frank asked incredulously.

“You don't know shit, Griffin,” Hamilton began, and Jamie opened his mouth to reply.

“Everyone pipe down,” Sully bellowed. He wasn't a big man, but years of wrangling officers had given him the ability to quiet a room. They all stopped talking. Sully glared at everyone, and then quietly said, “We have
got
to work together on this, and we
will
work together on this,” he said softly but emphatically. He looked at Frank Griffin. “Unless you're relieving me, sir, I believe I'm in charge of this case, correct?” Frank grumbled but nodded curtly. Sully then looked at Hamilton. “Unless I didn't get the memo, I'm still your boss, right?” Len Hamilton scowled but nodded his head.

Sully now leaned toward Jamie. “We've known each other a lot of years, Jamie,” he began. “I've got tremendous respect for you, both as a man and as a cop.”

Jamie sighed. “You know I feel the same about you, Sully.”

Robert Sullivan nodded. “Okay then. I also know how I'd feel if some crazy bitch was coming after my family—I'd bulldoze over anyone or anything in my way to bring her down.”

Jamie clasped Eileen's hand and smiled grimly. “Agreed.”

“So here's how this is going to work,” Sully said, in his best commander's voice. “Frank, unless you take the case away from me here and now, we're doing this my way.”

After a slight pause, Frank Griffin replied. “Okay, but you have one week to make something concrete happen, Sullivan. I'm not going to let anyone go after my family any more than Jamie.”

“I understand, sir,” Sully said, then turned to Hamilton. “Len, I'm ordering you to work with Jamie and his team as ‘special consultants.' They know more about what's going on than the rest of us, so we'd be stupid to not take advantage of that, don't you agree?” Hamilton grunted, but nodded.

“Good. Okay, Jamie,” Sully said firmly, “it's your turn. I'm in charge of this case, which includes Cal's murder and everything that has been done to you and your family. Since you're no longer on the force, I've got to have one of my guys in charge. That's going to be Len.” Sully raised his hands to cut off both Len and Jamie. “That doesn't mean, Leonard,” Sully said, pointing a finger at Hamilton, “that you get to order Jamie or his team around. It doesn't mean you get to cut out Jamie or anyone on his team because he's no longer a cop. I'll deputize him if that's what it takes.” Sully now looked back at Jamie. “It also means that you don't keep goin' cowboy,” he said, now pointing his finger at Jamie. “Len's got to keep you in the loop, so that means you got to keep Lenny and me in the loop.” Sully looked unblinkingly at Jamie. “Agreed?”

After a brief pause, Jamie nodded his head. “Agreed.” He stood shakily and nearly toppled back down until Eileen and Darcelle steadied him. Jamie walked to Len Hamilton. “We don't have to like each other, Len,” he said, sticking out his right hand. “We just have to work together. Deal?”

Len Hamilton looked at Jamie's extended hand for a second before shaking it. “Deal.”

As Jamie slowly walked back to sit once again, Sully continued. “So what's the next step?” To head off any conflict, Sully pointed at Hamilton. “Len, you first.”

Hamilton sighed. “I've got people looking deeper into da Silva's background. We have to tie him to the cult woman before we can make any kind of move. She's got a real shark for her lawyer, so we have to do this by the book.” Hamilton looked at Jamie. “Which is why—”

Sully started talking over Hamilton. “Which is why Jamie will keep you apprised of his actions. Jamie, what do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Jamie said exhaling heavily. “First, I'm gonna have to get some rest. Then I'm going to meet with my ‘consultants' later today. We have to know more about what Sedecla believes she is and what she believes she is doing.”

“You mean that witchcraft mumbo-jumbo?” Hamilton asked with a sneer.

“Yeah, that's what I mean, Lenny,” Jamie replied sarcastically. “Like I told these guys, I don't have to believe in this shit, but
she
does, so we have to understand it in order to take her down.”

“I think that's a great idea, Jamie,” Sully put in quickly. “Now here's how we're going to keep everybody in the loop. We'll have a meeting every morning at 8 a.m.—mandatory attendance by both of you,” Sully said, pointing at Len and Jamie. “I will be in attendance as well. Frank, you can always attend, either in person or via conference call.” Frank Griffin nodded agreement.

“Well, I reserve the right to conference in,” Jamie added. “If my team needs me to be somewhere else, I'm going to be there, and I'll call in for the daily update.”

“Fair enough, same thing holds true for Len,” Sullivan said. “Okay, then. We're all in agreement, correct ladies and gentlemen?” After waiting for and receiving verbal assent from everyone, Sully stood. “Alright, we've got one crazy bitch to bring down. Let's do this right so we don't have any legal shit hitting the fan when we're through.” Sully and Hamilton left. Frank Griffin hung back for a moment.

“Jamie,” he said, struggling for words. “I know we've been at odds lately. Part of that is probably my fault.”

“Part of that?” Jamie asked. Eileen poked him in the ribs. Jamie grunted, and then nodded. “Yeah, I've contributed my share as well, Da.”

“I just want you to know that Paddy and I are sorry for doubting you, son,” Frank said uncomfortably, reaching out and putting a hand on his son's shoulder. “We should have known better. There's no way you would ever fake being ill, and if someone doesn't believe you, then they'll have
me
to deal with as well. If you need
anything
to nail this bitch, anything at all, you let me or Paddy know. I'll make damned sure to keep the bureaucratic bullshit to a minimum for you. I've also ordered extra patrols by the house and the girls' schools.”

Jamie exhaled a ragged breath. “Thanks, Da. That means a lot.”

The two men stood awkwardly for a moment, and then each stepped forward to hug the other. Frank stepped back and looked at Jamie. “You take care of your women, Jamie.”

“I will, Da. I promise.”

Frank Griffin nodded curtly, said his goodbyes, then left.

Jamie sat back down clumsily, and then rubbed his hands over his face. “Alright then, folks. Let's us talk about our next steps.”

“Didn'tcha already decide that?” Louie asked. “We're headin' back to the loony bin this afternoon, ain't we?”

“You let them hear you say that, and Lucy will turn you into a toad,” Eileen replied. Louie just chuckled.

“Yeah, but I wanted to get input from the rest of you first. We need to be extremely cautious until this is over. Sedecla has shown that she's playing for keeps. Now she's going to be really pissed off.”

“Maybe we can use that against her, Unc,” Daphné pointed out.

Jamie nodded. “I thought the same thing, but let's not make any plans until we sit down with our supernatural consultants.” He looked at his watch. “Ladies, I know you're not as far away as Louie, but all of you are welcome to stay here for lunch rather than trek back and forth.”

“Oh and will you be fixin' lunch for your guests, now?” Eileen asked, her eyes innocently wide.

“No, I'll be askin' my beautiful wife to take care of our guests,” Jamie replied. “Can you also call Lucy and ask if they can meet us sometime this afternoon? I'm going to go upstairs and lay down.”

Eileen nodded approval. “Good. Then I'll take care of everything.”

“Get me up in no more than two hours,” Jamie said. “We've got things to do.”

After Jamie faltered his way upstairs, the others went into the dining room. Louie seated himself at the table, as did Darcelle. Daphné joined Eileen in the kitchen to help with lunch.

“So, Aunt Eileen, how is Uncle Jamie doing? Really?” Darcelle asked.

Eileen and Daphné returned to the dining room with sandwich fixings and plates. “He has his good days and his bad days, dear. Not that he'd admit it.”

“The doctors still can't find anything?” Daphné asked.

Eileen shook her head. “No, which makes it even harder for Jamie. He said that while he wouldn't want a horrible diagnosis like cancer or heart problems, he'd almost prefer that because then they'd be able to
do
something for him, and people would stop saying, ‘but you don't
look
sick.'”

“Well, since the gals here are too polite to ask, I will,” Louie said. “How are you guys gettin' along? Financially—Jamie not workin' musta put a crimp in your style and now widdout your store—”

Eileen stopped on her way back to the kitchen. The twins held their breath—money was something you just didn't talk about with the Griffin family. Eileen studied the former mobster for several seconds before replying. “I'm surprised by your concern, Louie. Jamie said you were an informer he worked with, not a friend.”

The big man shrugged, raising his hands into the air. “Yeah, that's true, but I always liked the Mick. We got along real well, considering we was on opposite sides. He always treated me fair. I guess seeing all the shit you guys have gone through has made me a little soft in the head.” He looked shrewdly at Eileen. “It's not like I can do anything. I'm barely getting by as it is, but I like you folks.”

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