An Affair Of Sorcerers

Esteban said nothing. I kept pressing, but he only sat and shook his head. Finally I left the cell and made a quick call to Washington.

Senator Younger was in his office. He had a number of questions, all of which I finessed in one way or another. The point of the call was to let him know that I was working on the case, and that the police might be a little more interested now in looking for other suspects.

After hanging up, I went outside and lighted a cigarette. It tasted bitter, but that didn't stop me from smoking it down to the end. When I finished that one, I lighted another. I stood motionless on the sidewalk, smoking and playing sponge-soaking up the minutest smells, sights and sounds of the city around me. I missed it already. Dying can be a distraction.

Chapter 10

On my way up to my apartment I reflected on the fact that the building where I lived had no 13th floor listed; the numbering in the elevator went from 12 to 14. Black cats, not walking under ladders-and religion-were, of course, part of the culture, but I was particularly struck by the 13th-floor syndrome: the occult-in the form of the magical number 13-had become institutionalized.

After a short nap, I shaved, showered and went to the hospital, where I checked with Dr. Greene. Kathy was still in a coma, and they were awaiting the results of the latest tests. I mentioned the possibility of induced coma, but without using the word 'spell.' Greene listened patiently, with a straight face, but I could tell he was amused. He promised to let me know if there was any change, and I went over to the Intensive Care Unit. I found April Marlowe sitting idly in a small adjacent waiting room. She was staring off into space, lost in thought. I stood in the doorway for a long time, watching her. She was dressed in boots, straight black skirt and a loose-fitting blouse that didn't quite disguise her full bosom.

April looked up and caught me watching her. She started, then relaxed and smiled wistfully. 'Hello, Robert,' she said. 'You startled me. How long have you been standing there?'

'Just arrived,' I lied. I walked across the room and sat down on a chair across from her. She was pale, and her lovely eyes were shadowed with anxiety. 'I just talked with Dr. Greene. I understand Kathy's the same.'

'I'm worried, Robert,' she said in a choked whisper. 'I have a bad feeling.'

'Of course you're worried,' I said gently. 'But at least Kathy's not getting worse; and she's getting the best possible care.'

She dropped her eyes. 'I'm not sure that's going to be enough.'

I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I didn't. In different circumstances, if I hadn't been feeling what I was feeling, I would have. But I was embarrassed by my own desire. 'Did you know that your brother was arrested here last night?' I asked.

The woman's eyes grew large, then filled with tears. Now I gripped her shoulder; the touch of her sent what felt like an electric shock running down my arm. 'I got him out on bail,' I continued. 'I don't think the hospital will press charges now that they know who he is.'

'What was he doing here?'

'He was up here in the middle of the night performing some kind of ceremony. That seems to mean he feels Kathy's problem might be something other than physical. He must think she's under a. . spell. What do you think?'

April slowly shook her head. 'I can't answer you, Robert. I don't know anywhere near as much about those things as Daniel does. I just. . can't say. I have to trust in Dr. Greene and the other doctors.'

She smiled wanly and put her hand in mine. Perhaps she felt the tension there, because she moved her hand away after a few moments. We sat in silence for a minute or two. Finally I cleared my throat, balled my fist and extended my ring finger. 'April,' I asked quietly, 'does this gesture mean anything to you?'

'Where did you see that?' she asked, surprised.

'Daniel used it on me.'

April's tentative smile vanished, leaving in its wake tension lines at the corners of her mouth. 'It's called a 'witch's sword,' or athame. It's an occult gesture-a kind of warning, or curse. Actually, in wicca terms, an athame is a dagger that's been prepared in ritual fashion for certain ceremonies; it's 'blessed.' I suppose you could compare the gesture to a Catholic crossing himself-except in this case the feeling is hostile and is directed against the person the witch points his finger at.'

I nodded absently, remembering the curious reaction Daniel had brought about in me when he'd tapped my forehead; I was beginning to understand why people were afraid of him. 'April, how long have you been sitting here?'

She glanced at her wrist, but she wasn't wearing a watch. There was no clock on the wall. 'I. . really don't know,' she said softly. 'There just doesn't seem to be anything else to do but wait. I have this awful. . premonition.'

'Come and have dinner with me. It'll help you relax; besides, I have some more questions.'

'Robert,' she whispered, 'can't we talk here? I'll help you in any way I can, but I'm afraid to leave Kathy.'

'We'll eat at The Granada and leave the number at the nurses' station, just like last time. You have to take care of yourself; it's not going to do Kathy any good if you get sick. Believe me, a nurse will call right away if there's any change. We won't be long.'

She thought about it, then rose. 'You're right, Robert. I'll be happy to dine with you. Thank you.'

It was going to rain. The early-evening light was dirty, translucent; the air was moist and heavy, as though the city were about to break into a sweat. Perspiration gleamed on the bodies of the omnipresent paddleball players in the playground, and the thwack-thwack of the hard rubber ball against wood paddle and concrete wall seemed unnaturally loud in the thick atmosphere. I asked April if she wanted to take a cab, but she said she preferred to walk. We made our way to the restaurant in silence. I sensed that, unlike the night before, dinner and wine would do nothing to improve April's mood. She was tense, pensive and distracted.

The red velvet and mahogany interior of the restaurant, usually warm and relaxing, seemed oppressive. The air-conditioning level was set too high, and we both shivered as we stepped into the restaurant. The maitre d' nodded in recognition, then led us to a good table by the window. The lighted candle in the center of the table made me nervous, and I pushed it to one side.

'What did you want to ask me, Robert?' April asked after we'd been seated.

'Do you know anything about tarot cards?'

'Some,' she said. 'Why?'

'I have an appointment for a reading in an hour and a half. I'd like to know what to expect.'

April cocked her head to one side and looked at me strangely. 'You're going for a reading? That surprises me.'

'Well, it's true that I'm not exactly a believer.'

'You might change your mind after a tarot reading-depending, of course, on how good the reader is.'

'I'm seeing a man by the name of John Krowl. I'm hoping he can give me a line on this Esobus character.'

She looked at me for a long time. 'I should have known it would have something to do with Kathy. Thank you again, Robert, for trying so hard to help.'

A waiter appeared. April shook her head when I asked her if she wanted a drink, and I didn't press. She ordered gazpacho and an omelette. I asked for the same.

'Have you heard of Krowl?' I asked.

'Yes. He's supposed to be very good; only a man by the name of Michael McEnroe is supposed to be better. If you go to John Krowl, you're liable to learn more about yourself than about Esobus. Krowl is supposed to be psychic.'

'Terrific,' I said, flashing a tentative smile. 'I need a psychic.'

April didn't smile back. 'I won't try to convince you of the power of the tarot, Robert,' she said very seriously.