An Affair Of Sorcerers

Chapter 9

'What the fuck's the matter with you, Crandall? Those cops out there think you're the wildest thing to hit this town since The Flying Nun.'

The ceremonial magician called Daniel sat stiffly on the edge of his cell cot. He was dressed in the same conservatively cut gray suit I'd seen him in the day before; his tie was still neatly knotted, and he hadn't even removed his suit jacket. Garth had told me Crandall had been sitting, unmoving, in the same position since being booked. The only incongruities in his facade were a pair of scuffed black shoes and a stubble of beard. Otherwise, his appearance was impeccable.

Daniel slowly turned his head in my direction, and I caught a glimmer of surprise in his steel-gray eyes before they once again assumed their usual inscrutability. 'How did you find out I was here, Frederickson?'

'The police lieutenant the hospital security guard turned you over to happens to be my brother. He's in charge of the city's wacko detail, and it's a lucky thing for you he is. If they'd taken you to any other precinct in this city, you'd be sitting in a padded cell in Bellevue right now. I saw your robe and the other paraphernalia out on the desk. You must have really looked smashing in that outfit. Got any pictures?'

'I have to get out of here, Frederickson.'

I laughed. 'By keeping your mouth shut? You're not going to wish your way out of here.' I sat down on the floor across from him, bracing my back against the wall. 'There may be something I can do; but first, you and I are going to talk a little turkey-or frog's legs.'

'I won't bargain with you,' he said stiffly, staring at the section of wall just above my head. 'If you want to help Kathy, you have to help me.'

'That's what you say. We're both thinking of Kathy-and so is my brother. Up to this point, I'd say we've been dealing in a hell of a lot better faith than you have.'

'Talk to my sister,' he said in the same flat, unemotional tone. 'Convince her that she has to go back to Philadelphia. I believe her life could be in danger if she stays here.'

'I've given that problem some thought, Crandall. Even if you're right, your sister's not going to leave Kathy's bedside. But I'm not sure she is in danger. Marlowe took Kathy to your sister's house the weekend he was murdered; he left some stuff there.'

Daniel blinked rapidly, stared at me hard for a moment, then returned his gaze to the wall. I'd just told him something he hadn't known.

'Whoever did this thing to your niece and her father knew a great deal about Marlowe's personal habits,' I continued. 'They wanted to get Kathy and her father, and they sure as hell did. If they'd wanted to get your sister, there's no doubt in my mind that they would have; they'd have taken all three of them while they were together in Philadelphia. So your sister doesn't seem to be in their plans. There has to be a reason for the complicated way they did things. Everything has the earmarks of a ritual. Obviously, they were snuffing Marlowe for something he'd done. But why do a number on Kathy? It could be a warning to someone else-or punishment-for something he'd done.' I took a deep breath, prolonged the silence until the ceremonial magician looked at me, then said: 'Would that person be you, Daniel? Is Kathy dying for your sins?'

His gaze didn't waver, but I saw his jaw clench and the muscles in his stomach contract and expand under his tight vest.

'Tell me, for Christ's sake!' I said. 'Tell the cops and me what's going on so we can help!'

'No one can help,' Daniel said tightly. 'I told you before: this is an affair of sorcerers. You couldn't understand then, and you can't understand now.'

'Try me again. Tell me why you're the only one who can help Kathy.'

'I'm the only one who knows whom to talk to.'

'If you'll tell my brother and me, then we'll know whom to talk to.'

He shook his head. 'No. Nobody who matters will talk to you. You'll never be able to find the right people in time, and you'll make it impossible for me to find them.' He paused, and his eyes suddenly shifted focus as he looked into my face. I felt a curious, empty sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was as though a screen had been rolled away from his eyes, leaving them naked. In that moment he allowed me a brief glimpse into a soul filled with pain, compassion and anxiety.

'April understands,' he continued. 'I don't have to explain anything to her. For some reason, I feel a tremendous need to assure you-a stranger-that I would do nothing to hurt Kathy, not by omission or commission. It's a terrible weakness for me even to have to say that to you. You're a good person; people like you generate their own special power.'

'Flattery won't get you shit with me, Crandall. Why don't you just tell me what's going on?' The screens in his eyes slammed down immediately, and he went back to staring at the wall over my head. 'Let's talk about spells, Daniel. I had an interesting conversation with someone whose views I respect. That person tells me it's possible Kathy's condition could be the result of suggestion or trauma-a 'spell,' if you like. What do you think?'

Silence. Crandall had already given his answer during the night.

'Come on,' I said. 'If this thing is trauma, the psychiatrists at the hospital may be able to help her; but they'll need some idea of what was done or said to her.'

There was still nothing but silence from the man across the cell from me. This time I hadn't even made him blink. 'I told Garth that you're the girl's uncle,' I continued resignedly. 'You're still going to have to deal with the hospital on trespassing charges, but they'll probably drop those. Until they do, you're out on bail.'

'You mean I'm free to go?'

'You've got it, pal. The cell door's open. I talked to a bail bondsman before I came in here. I did that because I like your niece, your sister and your nerve. But you owe me, and I'm collecting. I want you to tell me what's going on.'

'I owe you nothing, Frederickson,' Daniel said, rising.

'You do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to do.'

He made a curiously human gesture of polishing his shoes on the jail blanket, then straightened his tie and headed for the door.

'Daniel!' I shouted. 'Who's Esobus?'

He slowly turned. Once more, his eyes were pools of intense feeling. At that moment I thought he had the most expressive eyes I'd ever seen; his ability to express or disguise emotion in them at will was unnerving to me. 'I don't know, Frederickson,' the ceremonial magician said quietly. 'I'm trying to find out; as I told you, I'm the only one who can find out.' He paused, drew in a deep breath. 'Perhaps you're a Christian, Moslem or Jew. There's still power in those ways, despite all their priests have done to suck them dry. If you want to help Kathy, pray for her; from your own deep mind, pray.'

My nontalk with Daniel had upset me, and I went to the squad room for coffee and a cigarette. When I felt reasonably calm, I went to find Garth. He took me to see Esteban Morales. I was lucky Morales was still there; the healer was already overdue to be moved to a more permanent holding cell on Rikers Island.

Esteban Morales looked like an abandoned extra from Viva Zapata! From under the battered fedora on top of his head, long gray hair streaked with black hung out. Despite his relatively long stay in the cramped holding cell, he looked very clean. He wore shapeless black corduroy pants and a bulky, patched red sweater. There was a tension in his thin, angular, aged body that gave the impression of considerable physical strength. Sitting Indian fashion on the jail cot, his back braced against the wall, he looked forlorn and lonely. He glanced across the cell as I entered, and I found myself looking into a pair of limpid, dark brown eyes. Something moved in their depths as he looked at me. Whatever it was-curiosity, or perhaps amusement-quickly faded. He nodded once in greeting, and his smile was guileless, almost childlike.

'Hello, Mr. Morales,' I said, going over to the Mexican and offering him my hand. 'My name is Bob Frederickson, but most people call me Mongo.'

'Hello, Mongo,' Esteban said, grinning broadly. 'My lawyer said somebody wanted to see me, but he did not