An Affair Of Sorcerers

Daniel-gaunt, disheveled and hollow-eyed-was already at the hospital when we arrived. I had no idea how he'd learned about the emergency, and he wouldn't even look at me when I spoke to him. He put his arms around his stunned sister, and they both sat down on a small, worn sofa in a corner of the waiting room outside the Intensive Care Unit. April sobbed on his shoulder while he stared vacantly at the floor. This particular ceremonial magician had lost at least twenty pounds since I'd seen him last.

A half hour later, Joshua Greene emerged from the room where he and his team of specialists had been working on Kathy. Greene's face was haggard, and his surgical smock was stained with sweat. He motioned us into a smaller, more private anteroom. Daniel, walking very stiffly, led the way, with April leaning on his arm. I hesitated, feeling like a stranger now, but Greene indicated with a nod of his head that he wanted me to join them.

'We understand and accept, Doctor,' Daniel said evenly as I entered the room and closed the door behind me. 'Kathy's dying, and there's nothing you can do to save her.'

Greene slowly shook his head. 'We-'

'It's not necessary for you to say anything, Doctor,' Daniel said abruptly. 'We don't need your comfort.'

'What's happened, Joshua?' I asked quietly.

Greene shifted his gaze to me. 'We don't know,' he said, his voice almost cracking. 'A few hours ago Kathy's heart began beating arhythmically. There doesn't seem to be anything we can do to control it. We've tried drugs, but they don't sustain her. She gets weaker after each episode.'

'You can't help her?' I asked tightly.

Greene slowly shook his head. 'The problem is systemic. Whatever was given to her has worn down her resistance to the point where her body is giving up. We're doing all we can to save her, but in all likelihood. .'He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. His black flesh was chalky. 'I'm sorry, Mrs. Marlowe,' he continued in a choked whisper. 'In all honesty, we don't think Kathy will. . survive much longer. I feel you. . should prepare yourself for the worst.'

'We are prepared,' Daniel said evenly.

'How long?' I asked.

Greene thought about it for a long time, then said, 'Perhaps twelve hours, if Kathy continues at her present rate of decline.'

'What-' My voice caught, and I swallowed, trying to work up some moisture in my mouth. 'What would Kathy's chances be if we could still somehow find out what's wrong with her?'

'I don't know, Mongo,' Greene said hoarsely. 'I just don't know.'

Daniel came across the room and reached out for me. I instinctively shied away, but his hand gripped my shoulder and held. 'Frederickson,' he said softly, 'I thank you for all you've done-and tried to do-for my niece. I'd offer you money, but I know you wouldn't accept. I hope you will accept my friendship; April will tell you that my friendship is the most precious thing I can offer you.' He released my arm, stepped back and smiled almost gently. 'This matter is finished. April and I are a part of wicca; we can accept death as a part of life. You accept it. Leave us in peace.'

'We've still got twelve hours, Crandall.'

The ceremonial magician shook his head. His smile was gone. 'No. The battle is over;. I feel it. Now I wish you'd leave us alone.'

'April?' I said, turning to the woman.

She'd been softly crying. Now she looked at me, tried to smile but couldn't. 'It is over, Robert,' she sobbed. 'Daniel knows these things.' She moved closer, kissed me, pressed her wet cheek against mine. 'Thank you, Robert. You must go now. Leave Daniel and me alone; we know how to console each other.'

I couldn't think of any of my more traditionally religious friends who could have taken Greene's kind of news better than April and her brother. Yet the serenity these two witches seemed to enjoy in the face of Kathy's approaching death only served to transform my own frustration and desperation into anger. 'She's not dead yet!' I shouted, wheeling on Daniel. 'We still have time! Twelve hours, one hour-what difference does it make? Let's use the time! Work with me! We'll go out-'

'No!' Daniel said firmly. 'I've talked to everyone there is to talk to!' He sighed angrily and shook his head. Now he made no attempt to hide his pain. 'I couldn't find out anything, Frederickson. If I can't, you can't.'

'This time we'll work together. I think I've got some leads that-'

Daniel stepped back and cut me off with a wave of his hand. His eyes had gone cold. 'Go! You're not family. April and I don't want you here!'

I glanced back and forth between the brother and sister, the witch and ceremonial magician. I knew there was nothing more I could say to them, nothing more either of them wanted to say to me. Joshua Greene, his head down, was holding the door open for me. I wheeled and walked through it.

I went down to my car and drove across town toward Garth's precinct station. It was one o'clock in the afternoon, and the crosstown streets were plugged with traffic that I hardly seemed to notice. I knew that every minute counted, yet I felt strangely serene; all of my options had been narrowed down to a very small set of choices, and it was almost a relief. At the moment, there was nothing I could do about the traffic, and I didn't waste energy worrying about it. I felt as though I were looking down a tunnel twelve hours long; at the end, brightly illuminated, was the answer to the question of how I was going to spend those hours.

I knew I couldn't hope to find Esobus in the time I had left-not after both Daniel and I had been beating the bushes without success for three days. What I needed was more time, and there was one person who just might be able to give it to me.

Esteban Morales was absolutely the last button I had to push. It was a decision I'd unconsciously made the moment I'd walked out of the hospital. Either Esteban could heal, or he couldn't. It made absolutely no difference what I believed.

I needed Garth at the station house-Garth and Garth alone. There was no time to go looking for him. Wallowing through the traffic, I was surprised to find I had-at least temporarily-renewed a lapsed membership of my own; for almost twenty minutes my lips had been moving in a silent prayer that Garth would be there.

I made it-by a few seconds. As I pulled up to the curb, Garth was just coming down the steps with Johnny Barnard, his partner. I nodded to Barnard and pulled Garth to one side.

'Jesus,' Garth said, real concern in his voice. 'You look like hell. What did you do to your finger?'

'Harley Davidson's dead. His body's in that apartment on Farrell Street.'

'You always bring such interesting news,' Garth said wryly. 'Who'd have thought that the Messenger of Death was a dwarf?'

'That's not funny,' I snapped.

'You're right,' he said after a thoughtful pause. 'I'm sorry. That's what comes from hanging around with cops all day.'

'I need an hour or two of your time. Now.'

He ran a hand through his thinning, wheat-colored hair, then glanced toward his partner, who was waiting beside an unmarked squad car. 'I work for this city, Mongo. Sorry, but I'm on a call. Grave robbers. We've got three teenagers with an apartment full of skulls they stole from a cemetery over in Queens. That's not funny either.'

'Two hours, Garth,' I said, struggling to keep my voice even. 'I need you. If you feel you owe me, I'm cashing it all in now. If I owe you-well, I'll owe you some more. Two lives are at stake.'

We looked into each other's eyes for a few moments; then, without another word, Garth went back down the steps and spoke a few words to Johnny Barnard. Barnard shrugged, got into the car and drove off. Garth came back up the steps slowly.

'What's the matter with you, Mongo?' he asked quietly, peering at me through narrowed lids. 'You look and talk like a stranger. If I weren't afraid you'd yell at me, I'd say you look like you'd seen a ghost.'

'I'm goosing one. I want to spring Esteban on bail, and I need your help.'

'What? You think I'm going to smuggle Morales a file inside a cake?' He slowly shook his head. 'Go home and go to bed, brother; you've got to be running a fever. We've had this conversation before. The man's charged with premeditated murder. If that weren't enough, he's considered a transient. Forget it.'