you out. I've got a long drive to Pennsylvania tomorrow. I've traced some of Kathy's relatives.'
'Witches?'
'Sure. But I wouldn't worry about it. The coven leader also happens to be mayor of the town. His brother is chief of police. A nice, typical American family.'
Garth's eyes narrowed. 'You're kidding.'
'No, I'm not kidding.'
Garth rose and walked to the door, where he turned and looked at me. 'You sure you're all right?'
'Garth, get the hell out.'
'Yeah. I'll see you.'
'I'll see you.'
I closed the door behind Garth, then went into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. I took a deep breath, then opened the drawer in the night stand and brought out the book of shadows. It was still covered with Daniel's bloody prints.
I brushed dirt off one corner and opened it to the pages Daniel had read from. The writing was still totally incomprehensible to me. But Daniel had been able to read it. Undoubtedly, there were others.
I wondered what some of my colleagues at the university would think of the book of shadows, of Belial. Summoning up a demon would make an interesting research project.
I glanced at the night stand and the small pile of change there. Fifty-seven cents.
I ripped the pages out of the book, tossed them in a metal wastebasket and threw a lighted match after them. There was nothing unusual about the flame.
Tiger in the Snow
I don't like working blind, and there aren't many men who can get me to drop everything and fly three thousand miles across the country on the strength of no more than a round-trip airline ticket and a barely legible note.
But Phil Statler was one of those men. I owed Phil.
He was waiting for me at the Seattle airport. Dressed in an ancient, patched sweater and shapeless slacks, his full lips wrapped around a dead cigar, Phil was not likely to be taken for one of the world's most successful circus entrepreneurs, which he was.
'You look ugly as ever,' I said, shaking the huge, gnarled hand extended to me, 'only older.'
Phil didn't smile. 'Thanks for coming, Mongo.'
'What's the matter? All the phones broken around here?'
'I wasn't sure you'd come if you knew what it was about.'
'Hey, that's great! That's one of the most exciting pitches I've ever heard!' Phil had jammed his hands into his pockets and was staring at his feet. 'Okay,' I continued seriously, 'so I'm here. You got trouble?'
'Sam's loose.'
The chill that ran through me had nothing to do with the Washington winter. 'He kill anybody?'
'Not yet.'
'My God, if Sam's loose in the city-'
'He ain't in the city.'
'Where, then?'
'Let's take a ride,' Phil said as he stooped and picked up my bag.
'He's somewhere out there.'
I gazed in the direction of Statler's pointing finger, out across a broad, open expanse of crusted snow that glittered blue-white under the noon sun. Beyond the snow, forest hogged the horizon, stretching east and west as far as I could see.
'How do you know he's up there?'
'He was spotted. Some guy down in Ramsey.'
'That's the town we just passed through?'
Phil Statler nodded. I leaned back against the Jeep and pulled the collar of my sheepskin coat up around my ears. 'Okay, Phil,' I said, 'I'm beginning to get the picture. You're missing a six-hundred-pound Bengal tiger and you want me to employ my natural cunning to track him down. What would you suggest I say to Sam if I find him? He may not want to come back, you know.'
Now, a man with a missing tiger needs a laugh, or at least a smile. But Statler simply continued to stare at me for what seemed a very long time. When he did finally speak, his hoarse, gravelly voice was a strange counterpoint to the tears in his eyes.
'It don't make no difference he didn't hurt anybody, Mongo,' he said. The tears were already beginning to freeze on his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. 'They're going to kill Sam. The people in the county got their minds set. Okay. But if Sam's gotta' be killed I want it to be done by somebody he knows, somebody who cares about him. That's why I asked you to come, and that's why I didn't tell you what it was about. I want to see a man's face when I'm asking him to risk his life.'
'I don't understand. There are other ways of bringing a tiger in than shooting him. You know that. You also know there are a lot of other men more qualified to do it. Nobody's ever accused me of looking like Tarzan.'
Statler took a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. I unfolded it and recognized it as the front page of the local newspaper. TIGER ON THE LOOSE was splashed across the top. Below that was a picture of Sam's head, his eyes glowing with cat fire, his jaws gaping. His fangs glinted in the artificial light of the photographer's flash.
'Sam's never looked so good,' I said. 'That picture must be five years old.'
'They got it off one of our publicity posters.'
At the bottom of the page was a picture of a man who obviously enjoyed having his picture taken. Heavy-set, in his late thirties or early forties, he was the kind of man other men try not to prejudge, and always do. I studied the photo for a few moments and decided that Sam's eyes reflected far more character. Underneath the photo was the caption, GO GET HIM, REGGIE!
'Who's Reggie?' I said, handing back the paper.
'Reggie Hayes,' Statler said, spitting into the snow. 'He's the county sheriff, with headquarters down there in Ramsey. Sam's done a lot for him.'
'I don't follow you.'
'Seems Hayes is up for reelection. It also seems Hayes is not the model public servant. I don't know all the details, but up until a few days ago he'd have had trouble getting his mother to vote for him. All that's changed. People forget about corruption when they feel their lives are in danger, and Hayes is the man who's going to bag their tiger for them.
'People don't want their terrors drugged or carted away in a net; they want them killed. Hayes knows that, and he's been up in those woods every day for the past three days. Sooner or later he's gonna luck out. You read the local papers and you'll see how Sam's the best thing that ever happened to him.'
'This is big gun country. I'd think Reggie'd have a lot of competition from the local sporting types.'
'Sure. Must be hundreds of people around here who'd like to bag a tiger, but none of them want to tangle with a crooked sheriff who's out to win an election.'
'I can see their point,' I said evenly. I could. A county sheriff in an isolated area is the closest thing the United States has to an ancient feudal chieftain.
'I'd do it myself,' Statler said, his eyes narrowing, 'but I know I'm too old. I know I ain't got what it takes. I know you do. Besides,' he continued after a pause, 'you're the only one Sam ever really took to.'
That took me back for a moment, then I realized it was true. I wondered if it was because both of us, in our way, lived life inside a cage-Sam's cage of steel, mine of stunted bone and flesh. I didn't dwell on it.
'I'll go after Sam because I want to,' I said. 'But there's no reason why I have to play Hayes' game. Seattle has a fine zoo. They should have the equipment I need.'
