An Affair Of Sorcerers

'Again: he had plenty of money. Why didn't he just take a couple of years off?'

'I guess he was under his own pressures,' she said after a thoughtful pause. 'In the end, perhaps he was simply. .afraid that he didn't have that good book in him.' She paused again, ran her finger along the edge of the wooden bench. 'As a matter of fact,' she continued quietly, 'the pressure may finally have gotten to him in another way besides the drinking. He always sent Kathy and me copies of his books-sometimes as many as eleven or twelve a year. We hadn't received any for the past year. He must have been blocked, afraid he was drying up.' She sighed, put her head in her hands. 'Maybe that's why he turned to wicca.'

'Maybe. How long have you been divorced?'

'Four years, but we stayed good friends. Frank adored Kathy, and she adored him. As you know, Kathy spent summers with him.'

'Did you speak often?'

'Oh, yes. We were always on good terms; we just didn't love each other anymore. He often used the house to store things-tax records, manuscripts, contracts-that sort of thing. Even with all his money, he preferred living in a small apartment, and I have a big attic. In fact, he and Kathy stayed …' She choked, put her hand to her mouth, took a deep, shuddering breath. 'Kathy and Frank were at the house over the weekend. Frank had driven up to leave something in the attic.' She suddenly rose with a start. 'I'm worried, Robert; I've been gone too long.'

'The hospital's only five minutes away,' I said, rising and taking her arm. As we left the playground, two of the paddleballers smiled and waved; the other team scowled. 'If Frank wasn't writing,' I asked quietly, 'what did he want to leave with you?'

April Marlowe looked at me strangely. 'I don't know, Robert,' she said distantly.

'Can you find out?'

'I suppose so. Do you think it's important?'

'I have no idea, April. It could be.'

'Then I'll go back and look for it as soon as I can. But the attic is a mess; I have no idea where he put what he brought, and it will take me hours to dig through …' Her eyes grew moist as her voice trailed off. 'Right now I have to stay close to Kathy.'

'I understand. Do you have a place to stay?'

'Dr. Greene has arranged for me to stay at the hospital.'

'Where's your brother staying?'

'I don't know.'

I gave April Marlowe my home and office numbers, and we hurried back to the hospital. Kathy's condition was unchanged.

In the morning I awoke with a start and glanced at my watch; it was ten thirty. I'd slept around the clock. I immediately called the hospital, but the reception desk would tell me only that Kathy's condition was listed as 'serious.' I asked them to switch me over to the residential room where April Marlowe was staying. April answered on the third ring.

'It's Mongo,' I said. 'I hope I didn't wake you up.'

'Good morning, Robert,' the woman said in a heavy, sad tone. 'You didn't wake me.'

'Were you able to sleep at all?'

'Some. The wine and the dinner helped relax me-as you knew they would. Thank you. And Dr. Greene gave me something to help me sleep.'

'Anything new on what's wrong with Kathy?'

'No,' April said tightly. 'She's still in a coma, and her heartbeat's slightly irregular. The neurologists here are working on her, and Dr. Greene is assembling a team of specialists from other hospitals.'

There was an uncomfortable silence in which I found myself with nothing to say. I suddenly realized why, and I felt slightly guilty; beyond my concern for Kathy, I'd thoroughly enjoyed dinner with April Marlowe the night before. I enjoyed hearing her voice over the telephone, and I looked forward to seeing her again.

In some circles, lusting after a comatose girl's mother might be considered a bit tacky.

'Uh, I'll be by later to check on her,' I said at last. 'You try to get some rest. Do you need anything?'

'No. Thank you, Robert. If I'm not in my room near Intensive Care, I'll probably be having coffee. Be sure to find me, okay?' 'Right.'

When I hung up, I realized something was missing: it was the painful knot that had been in the pit of my stomach since early Monday morning. Kathy was in one of the finest medical centers in the world, and the doctor in charge of her case was intensely concerned about her; it would be hard for any group of mere witches to top those odds.

Now, with a full night's sleep in my head, I decided I must have been suffering delusions of grandeur to suppose that Kathy's life could depend on anything I might or might not find out about the gown she'd been dressed in. In the bright morning, I was filled with confidence that Greene and his team of specialists would quickly discover what was wrong with Kathy, and cure her; it was inconceivable to me that they wouldn't. My concern had shifted to wanting to find the people responsible for putting her in the hospital in the first place. I wanted to drum out a few tunes on their skulls.

I checked in with my service and was told that Senator Younger had called the night before and was anxious for me to get in touch with him. The Chancellor had called at eight; he wanted me to come in and see him. Also, Yvonne Mercado had called.

Yvonne could wait. When I called Barnum's office, I was told that he'd be free to see me in a half hour. I said I'd be there. I started to dial Younger's number, then hung up. I remembered all too well the fear and pain in the Senator's eyes, and the confidence Janet Monroe had expressed in me. It would do no good to tell him that something else had come up; it had been four days since I'd spoken with him, and his daughter was also dying. The fact of the matter was that I hadn't even had time to talk to Esteban Morales, much less look into the case against him. I wasn't prepared to tell Younger I'd been weighing the life of his daughter against that of someone else's.

Reluctantly, I gathered up the file I'd started on Smathers based on the information Winston Kellogg had provided me with. I put it into my briefcase, along with the recording of my telephone conversation with Kellogg and a small, portable tape player. Then I drove downtown to the university.

The towering glass-and-stone buildings of the school with its vast, arcane treasury of human knowledge, combined with the ubiquitous murmur of New York's technology, proved a good antidote to the case of creepies Marlowe's death and Kathy's hospitalization had given me. I stood in the middle of the student plaza for a few minutes, armoring myself with the university atmosphere. As a result, I was five minutes late for my appointment. Barnum was pacing impatiently back and forth across his carpeted office.

'Good morning, Chancellor,' I said.

'Good morning, Frederickson,' Barnum replied curtly, moving around behind his desk. He lowered his lanky frame into his leather-covered swivel chair. 'I appreciate your coming in to see me on such short notice. Please sit down.'

I did, placing the briefcase on my lap. 'Do you think it's a good idea for us to meet here?' I asked evenly.

'Probably not,' Barnum said shortly, 'but I hate deceit.' He shifted his angular form forward in his chair, began tapping his fingers nervously on his desk top. 'In fact, I've been having second thoughts about this whole matter. I'm not sure what I've asked you to do is. . appropriate.' He cleared his throat. His gray eyes seemed cold and distant, as though he blamed me for his discomfort. 'I know you've only had a few days, but have you, uh. . have you found out anything?'

Barnum wanted it both ways. He wanted to find out whatever there was to know about Smathers, but he didn't want to get his hands dirty; in short, he wanted me to decide for him whether or not to continue the investigation. At the moment, that responsibility was resting heavily on my thighs. What my briefcase contained could easily destroy the reputation of a brilliant scientist.

Very carefully, like a man toying with the pin on a hand grenade, I fingered the latch on the case for a few seconds, then abruptly set the case on the floor. 'It doesn't make any difference, sir,' I said. 'I've decided not to take the assignment anyway.'

'Then you too feel. . uncomfortable?'

'Yes, sir, that's part of it. Also, frankly, something more important has come up, and it requires my full