Do Not Go Gentle (43 page)

Eileen smiled. “I find myself liking you too, Louie, despite your past. I wasn't sure at first. Jamie says you weren't the nicest man, but that you seemed alright in your own way.”

“High praise from him,” Louie replied with a gravelly laugh.

“We're muddling along,” Eileen answered, much to the twins' surprise. “We've applied for Jamie's disability, but the attorney we hired said there's no telling how long it might take before we receive any money. In the meantime, we've declared medical bankruptcy.” Eileen sat at the dining room table with a sigh. “It's been a struggle. Jamie hates himself for not being able to work.”

“It's not like he intended to get sick,” Daphné observed.

“No, but he feels tremendous guilt all the same,” Eileen replied. “For Jamie, a man's role is to be the provider, and he was always an excellent provider. Now, if he even tries to help around the house, he gets exhausted and his headaches get worse.” She sat back down at the table.

“Is there anything we can do?” Darcelle asked.

Eileen shook her head. “We just received my insurance check for the store. I'm still looking for a new location. In the meantime, I've been slowly siphoning off the insurance money for our living expenses. It will last a while, but if we don't get Jamie's disability soon, or not at all, I'm not going to be able to reopen my shop.” Tears brimmed in Eileen's eyes, but she refused to cry. She stood abruptly. “Feeling sorry for myself accomplishes nothing. We're going to get through this somehow.” She marched back into the kitchen with Daphné in tow.

“Man that just sucks,” Darcelle said softly.

“You got that right kiddo,” Louie agreed.

Around one o'clock, Jamie came heavily down the stairs, his walking stick thumping on each tread. Eileen fixed him some lunch. When he was finished, Eileen told him that Lucy had agreed to get Ríordán & Hanrahan to her place by two o'clock. “I could have one of the twins drive us,” Jamie offered.

“No,” came her firm reply. “I'm in this too, love.” Eileen's face took on a grim demeanor. “No one messes with my family and gets away with it.”

As they were leaving the house, Darcelle asked, “What are we hoping to accomplish this afternoon, Unc? I mean, I'm all interested in whatever voodoo these guys do, but what's our goal?”

“Our goal is to learn how we can combat Sedecla's alleged supernatural powers.”

“If they're alleged, why do we need to worry?” Louie asked.

Jamie hesitated. “I guess I'm hedging my bets. I've seen the condition of the corpses that she leaves behind. It's like all the life has been sucked right out of them, leaving them shriveled husks.”

“Weird,” Daphné said. “Has the blood been drained from them?”

“Not exactly,” Jamie replied.

“Whaddya mean by ‘not exactly'?”

“Just what I said, Louie—there's still blood in the corpses, although less than the usual amount, and it's almost powdery. The M.E. also said that the muscle mass and body density was diminished to a fraction of normal.”

“Like something vital has been sucked out of them?” Darcelle asked.

“Yeah,” Jamie replied, “and I guess that results in the withered corpses. If an experienced M.E. like Marie Hanover can't come up with a logical explanation, then I'm forced to at least consider other explanations, even those that don't seem possible.”

“‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth', is that it?” Eileen asked.

“One of Sherlock Holmes' most famous axioms. Yes, my love, that's where I am— while I find the supernatural explanations highly improbable, if we eliminate all other possible explanations, then we have no choice but to accept a supernatural explanation.”

Before long, they arrived at Lucy's modest North Dorchester house. As they parked, they checked the surroundings for any signs of danger. They knocked, and Lucy answered the door. “Gods and goddesses,” she exclaimed as she saw how many were there. “If ye keep bring more people, Jamie Griffin, we're going to have to start meeting at your house.”

“Sorry, Lucy,” Jamie apologized. “If we decide we need to meet again, we will meet at our house.” He made the additional introductions as Ríordán helped Lucy cram more chairs into her living room. As usual, Hanrahan did not offer to help and barely acknowledged the introductions.

“Real friendly guy, that one,” Darcelle whispered to Daphné, who poked her sister in the ribs.

Lucy bustled back into the living room with more cups and additional coffee and tea. While everyone was settling in, Jamie related the events surrounding da Silva's attempted murder.

“I told you that you did not fully appreciate the danger you we're getting into,” Ríordán noted when Jamie had finished.

“Aw, pipe down,” Louie growled. “Dontcha ever have nothin' good to say? The girls here had our backs, and we're going to be extra careful from here on out.”

“Good,” Hanrahan replied, matching Louie growl for growl. The druid was both taller and heavier than the former mobster, and they once again were sizing each other up. “Since our last meeting, we have learned additional information, and the situation appears even darker than we suspected.”

“How so?” Jamie asked.

“We have found a source close to the witch who was willing to speak with us,” Hanrahan said, “even though it put her in considerable danger.”

“What did this squealer have to say?” Louie asked.

“This ‘squealer,' as you put it, is one of the witch's servants. She told us that Sedecla has been increasing the frequency of her sacrifices and performing her Qliphotic rituals more often. It appears the witch is moving up her timetable to achieve Abaddon.” For the benefit of the twins, Hanrahan briefly recapped their previous discussion about the Qliphoth and the Tree of Death. “We may be running out of time to stop her.”

“That's funny,” Louie commented. “We was just talkin' on our way here that it's time we stop lettin' her come after us. It's time we start takin' the fight to her.”

“How do we do that?” Jamie asked as the others added their agreement.

“Twill not be easy,” Ríordán replied.

“The
fili
speaks true,” Hanrahan rumbled. “The witch is powerful and it will take a great effort to defeat her.”

“Fine,” Darcelle said. “So what does that
mean
? So far, all I've heard here is doom and gloom. How do we go take this bitch down?”

“Ye cannot do it alone,” Lucy said. “None of ye possess the knowledge required to cause her harm, let alone bring her low.”

“Maybe,” Jamie replied, “but it's going to take firepower to get close enough to her for anything to be done.” He laid his hand on his Sig Sauer Scorpion, which rested in his shoulder holster.

No one spoke for several seconds, and then Hanrahan grumbled his assent. “You are most likely correct, Jamie,” he said. “Our informant says the witch surrounds herself with a well-armed retinue.”

“Well, she's down one well-armed retainer thanks to the girls here,” Louie noted.

“Indeed,” Ríordán replied, “but she does not lack for someone to step up and take his place.”

“So, let's suppose we manage to fight our way into Sedecla's inner sanctum,” Jamie said thoughtfully. “What next? I know Cal made his way in, but it cost him his life. How do we keep that from happening to us? How, exactly, do you propose that we negate whatever power Sedecla possesses long enough to let us capture her?”

Hanrahan chuckled darkly. “Do not delude yourself, detective. We will not capture the witch. We will have to destroy her.”

“You mean kill her?” Jamie asked. “I can't go into this planning to murder her.”

“Why not?” Hanrahan replied. “She will not hesitate to murder any of us.”

Jamie paused before answering. “I can't just plan to murder her. It goes against everything I've ever stood for. I believe you when you say that she won't hesitate to kill any of us, and I can assure you that I won't hesitate to kill her if it's necessary. I just don't want to go in guns blazing. That would be revenge, not justice. Not to mention that some of her servants may be innocent bystanders.”

“No one who serves the witch is innocent,” Hanrahan rumbled.

“We're still missing the answer to the main question that Jamie asked earlier,” Eileen said. “If we
do
have to destroy her, how do we do it? Shoot her? Stone her? Throw a bucket of water on her? Tie her up and drown her like they did the Salem witches?”

“Not exactly,” Hanrahan responded. “If the witch is indeed pursuing Abaddon, and, as we believe, she is nearly complete in this task, we may not be able to kill her. She would deflect bullets and any other such mundane attacks, then eliminate us one by one.”

“So how the hell do we take her down?” Louie asked.

“We will have to destroy the source of her power,” the druid replied.

“What's the source of her power?” Daphné asked.

Hanrahan spread his hands. “I do not know, exactly.”

“Oh, great,” Darcelle muttered loudly, earning her another dirty look from the druid and another poke in the ribs from her twin.

“It is not physically possible for a human being to store the type of power she is creating,” Hanrahan continued. “At least, not until the final step.”

“So she's got some kind of storage battery?” Jamie asked.

The druid nodded. “For want of a better word. Sedecla will have some object, a statue, or other representation of her familiar.”

“Her familiar?” Jamie asked incredulously. “Will she also have a broomstick and a pointed hat?”

“If I recall correctly, ye agreed to keep an open mind,” Lucy observed tartly.

Jamie sighed loudly. “Okay, she stores her power in a physical object. How do we recognize it?”

“You won't,” Hanrahan replied. “I will.”

“You're going to go with us?” Jamie countered.

“Aye, all of us will,” Lucy replied. “We must.”

“You can't do this without our help,” Ríordán added. “You may be able to shoot your way past her human protectors, but the witch will have other protections as well.”

Jamie shook his head. “That's rough,” he finally said. “I can't guarantee your protection.”

“Nor can I,” Hanrahan said. “You are as vulnerable to her magical wards as we are to her servants' weapons.”

“So let me see if I can summarize how we think this will work,” Jamie said. “The twins and I will lead the way in—”

“You ain't leavin' me behind, Mick,” Louie rumbled. “I know how to shoot too.”

“Maybe so,” Jamie replied, “but you can't be in the vanguard. You're limited in your mobility.”

“You ain't in tip-top shape neither, Griffin.” Louis glared at Jamie for several seconds, and then nodded. “Fine, I get it—you need someone to guard the rear as well.”

Jamie nodded. “That works. After the three of us will come the three ‘magic-workers,' for want of a better term. Louie will be the rearguard.”

“I disagree,” Hanrahan stated bluntly. “You'll need one of us ‘magic-workers' in the lead as well. Otherwise, you'll stumble into a metaphysical alarm or trap and put everyone in danger.”

After a moment, Jamie replied, “Okay then, we split up into three groups—one of the twins, Hanrahan and me in the lead, the other twin and Lucy in the middle, Louie and Ríordán at the rear.”

“Aren't you forgetting someone?” Eileen asked in a chilly tone of voice.

Jamie turned to face his wife. “No, my love, I'm not.” He took her hands in his. “We can't both go in there—I won't risk both of us. That's not fair to the girls.”

“It's not fair to expect me to wait at home like a good little wife,” Eileen protested.

“Maybe not,” Jamie replied, “but we can't both go into the lion's den. We simply can't.”

After several moments of awkward silence, Eileen snatched her hands away from her husband. “We will discuss this more at home, Séamus Edward Griffin.”

“Uh-oh,” Darcelle said. “All three names—you're in trouble, Unc.” Eileen gave Darcelle “the look,” and the twin quickly looked away.

“Okay then. The only question left is when do we do this?” Jamie asked.

“We will need at least two days to prepare our defenses and weapons of power,” Hanrahan replied after a moment's consideration.

“By my calculations,” Louie said, “that puts us at New Year's Day.”

“I don't suppose we'll catch Sedecla hung over by any chance?” Daphné asked.

Her remark drew a rare chuckle from the druid. “I doubt it, but it's a good day to attempt this.”