Witch House (26 page)

We both came up behind Ursula. I took her
right arm. Dominic took her left. As we lifted her out of her seat,
she said, “Leave her. This one is mine.”

Dominic pulled her closer. “No, she is not.
She’s mine. Leave her the hell alone.”

“Look!” Carlos cried, pointing to where the
door used to be. “It’s gone again!”

“Lilith,” I said. “He is trying to prevent us
from taking her. Do something.”

“Ursula.” Lilith splashed her hands out of
the water and up over her head. “Ursula, wake up!” She clapped
twice and Ursula awoke, free of John, or Johnny Buck or whoever the
hell our demented spirit host was.

I waded to the window, and with Carlos
steadying me, I kicked the glass out from its frame. Water began
gushing out of the room as if I had yanked a plug from a tub drain.
“This is our way out,” I said, and when the waterline dropped to
just above sill height, I began helping the others out. Ursula went
first, followed by Lilith, Dominic, Carlos and finally me. We
gathered again out front of the house where I do not think that
Dominic let go of Ursula’s hand for a second. When asked if she was
all right, she simply blinked back in surprise.

“Of course, I am fine,” she said. “I wanted
our séance to work, is all. Be it not for my black out, we may have
succeeded.”

“Ah, but we did succeed,” Lilith returned.
“Thanks to you.”

“Nay, thanks be to you, sister, for if it
worked, tis not mine but thine own talents what delivered.”

“It was both of you,” I said. “It was all of
us, although I do not know what good it did. We left the bank bag
and money inside the house.”

“No, we didn’t,” said Carlos. “He picked up a
sack by his feet and held it up. On the side were the words:
Wampanoag Indian Casino
. “I went back in to get it after you
came out.”

“Carlos!” I walked up to him, pinched his
cheeks and kissed him on the forehead. “You are amazing. How you
keep your head under such calamity, I will never know. I cannot
believe that after all that, you still remembered to give our case
top priority.” I stepped back and watched his smile wane. “What?
You did do it to further the case, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Oh sure, that’s why I did
it.”

I scowled disappointedly. “We can’t keep
it.”

He cradled the sack to his chest and pitched
it at me. “Here,” he said. I believe he was pouting. “Take your old
money. It’s probably haunted anyway.”

Eight o’clock the next morning, Carlos,
Spinelli and I were poring over a mountain of photos and documents
pertaining to our case in hopes of hitting on something, anything
that we might have overlooked earlier. It is a strange world we
live in where almost anyone connected to René Landau could come
under suspicion for his murder, yet none more than circumstantial
enough to warrant a formal interrogation. My suspicions varied
almost by the hour between individuals and entire parties, all of
whom could have easily committed the crime and provid an alibi. On
top of everything else, our latest séance the night before added
still another twist to the case that could hardly fit in a proper
police report. Although our feisty spirit friend did not actually
come out and tell us his name was Johnny Buck Allis, the
implications appeared undeniable. Spinelli said it best when he
asked, “Who else named Allis would have a bank sack in his cellar
with
Wampanoag Indian Casino
stenciled on the side?” The
answer seemed obvious. Nobody.

“This is making more sense to me all the
time,” Carlos remarked. We had gathered around the conference table
in the media room, Spinelli and I on one side, Carlos on the other.
Most of the photos were facing him, as he had turned them around
one after the other and arranged them in chronological order,
presenting a temporal sequence of events starting with the armored
car robbery and ending with the coroner’s photos of Landau on the
examination table at the morgue. “I think that Landau tried to
double-cross Johnny Buck by giving him a sack full of paper with a
few real bills on top, but old Bucky figured it out before Landau
could get out of town. That is when he went to the cabin hideout to
confront Landau, only Landau got the jump on Johnny Buck and shot
him first. Then, to cover his tracks, he torched the place, making
it look accidental, and telling authorities that the money went up
in smoke with his dead partner.”

“You are right,” I said. “That does make
sense. However, that does not bring us any closer to finding out
who killed Landau.”

Dominic said, “What if there was a third
robber.”

“You mean Powell?”

“No, someone else, someone not yet on our
radar. That would explain why they took a third bank sack even
though it had no money in it. They knew they would need a third
sack to split up the loot three ways.”

“The police reports mention nothing about a
third robber,” I said.

“That is because there was only one witness,
and look who she turned out to be.”

“Stephanie Stiles. I see what you mean. What
about the second armored car employee? He didn’t mention anything
about a third robber.”

Spinelli said, “Maybe he was the third
robber.”

“That might answer one troubling question.
The police report said that the armored car driver opened his door
and stepped out of the truck right after it stopped. That goes
against all training and logic. Why would he get out of an armored
truck where he is safe and step into the line of fire from a
robber’s shotgun?”

“He would not,” said Spinelli, “unless his
partner ordered him out at gunpoint.”

“Of course, that is how Johnny Buck and
Landau were able to gain access to the money and make their escape
so quickly.”

“It was the perfect crime,” said Carlos.

“It’s never perfect,” I said, “not when
someone gets killed.”

“So what do we do now?”

“It’s obvious. We need to interview the other
armored car guard. What is his name?”

“Nanchákey,” Spinelli replied.

“What?”

“Francis Nanchákey. He’s Indian.”

“Wampanoag?”

“You guessed it.”

“How convenient. Let me guess again. He’s
unavailable for comment.”

“Yup. He disappeared shortly after the
robbery.”

“Did he? That should have been a red flag
right there.”

“So, is he our man?” asked Carlos. “Did he
kill René Landau?”

“I don’t know. He certainly is a person of
interest at this point. If he was in on the robbery, and if Landau
tried cheating him out of the money, too, then he definitely had
motive.”

“So, we are back to square one,” Spinelli
remarked.

“Not necessarily. We still have to see what
the ballistics results tell us on those guns we subpoenaed.”

“Oh, yeah, about that….”

I watched Spinelli sort through the
scattering of documents spread across the table, his fingers
pushing several aside without really looking at them. “Did the
ballistics come in?” I asked.

He abandoned his lackluster search and
returned his gaze to me. “Yes.”

“And?”

“All negative. None of the guns we collected
came up positive for a match to the bullet we dug out of
Landau.”

“All right then.” I pushed my chair from the
table and steepled my hands below my chin. “I guess we are back to
square one after all. We have nothing on any of our suspects,
except that all could not care less that Landau is dead.”

“Knock, knock.” It was Lilith. She and Ursula
had let themselves into the media room after someone had let them
upstairs unannounced. “Can we come in?”

I stood up and met them half way to the door.
“Lilith? What are you two doing here? How did you get past the desk
downstairs?”

She flipped her hair back off her shoulder.
“Are you kidding? They all know us down there.”

“`Tis true,” said Ursula, blushing some.
“That we submit to search doth not mean we are looked upon
unsavory.”

“They searched you?”

Lilith answered, “It was just a pat down—my
idea, really.”

Ursula added, “Aye, `twas a pat down is all.”
She smiled giddily. “They were most gentle.”

“They?” Dominic stood and nudged me aside.
“How many guys patted you down?”

She began counting on her fingers. Lilith
stopped her before she reached ten. “Just the men now, Urs. He
asked how many guys.”

“Yes, of course.” She began recounting.”

Dominic turned to me. “Tony?”

“Lilith.”

She and Ursula broke into laughter. I swear
the way they play off each other is a sport unto them. I don’t know
if it is a witch thing, a sister thing or simply a girl thing. I
know it is nothing Lilith and I have, and even after all these
years, something that Carlos and I share. I waited for the two to
catch their breaths. Eventually, Lilith corralled her wit and pled
mercy. “Okay, fine,” she said, not so convincingly, “shoot us,
we’re sorry. We were kidding, Dominic. Nobody touched her.”

I think that normally I would have thought
her jest all in good fun, but almost anyone else would have
realized that the séance the night before had seriously compromised
Dominic’s sense of guardianship. To suggest that officers
downstairs had dishonored Ursula by stripping her of her dignity
was a cruel and misguided ploy. That Ursula, unaware of the
violation perpetrated against her during the séance, played along,
only made the joke more callous.

“Lilith, why are you here? Can’t you see we
have work to do?”

“Oh, well nice to see you, too.” She came
around the table and gave Carlos a big hug, uncharacteristic, I
know, but I saw it for what it was: a snub at me for not waking her
with a kiss on my way out of the apartment that morning. “We came
here to see if you guys wanted to go have breakfast with us.”

“Sure,” said Carlos. “I can eat.”

“You can always eat,” I said.

“I wouldn’t mind some toast and coffee,”
Spinelli remarked. He popped the lid on his bottle of allergy
medicine and swallowed down a pill dry. “These meds tear up my gut
if I don’t eat.”

Ursula moved closer to him, enough so that
their shadows from the light directly above married into one. “Hast
thou eaten naught since last we met?”

He put his hand to her cheek and brushed it
softly across her lips. “I think not of eating when thou art so
tender on my mind.”

“Her lips quivered at his touch. “Thou must
keep thy strength as thy mettle, bold and fearless.” She fell
against him, her breasts pushing lightly against his chest, their
noses almost meeting.

Carlos said, “Did he just speak old English
to her?”

“Yes,” Lilith answered. “It’s sickening,
isn’t it? He is all she talks about, and now I see that Spinelli
has it just as bad.” She tapped Ursula on the shoulder. “Get a
room, you two.”

Ursula stepped back and Dominic turned away,
both turning red with embarrassment. I said to Lilith, “Thanks for
the offer, but we really need to get some work done here.” I
motioned with a broad sweep of my hand over the table. “We need to
find a way to make sense of all this before our case grows too
cold.”

“What is this?”

“It’s our case,” said Carlos, “from the
robbery nearly eighteen years ago to Landau’s death this week.”

She picked up a black and white photo of
Johnny Buck’s charred bones among the burned out ruins of the
cabin. “Who is this poor bustard?”

“That’s your friend from last night,” I said.
“Johnny Buck Allis, meet Lilith Adams.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” she said, and she tossed
the photo back onto the table. “But that’s not Johnny Buck.” She
gave Ursula the nod. “Come on, Urs. We’ll see if a couple of the
boys from traffic want to come with us. We’ll tell them they can
pat us down for real if they run the siren the whole way.”

“Wait!” I picked up the photo and walked it
to her. “What makes you think this is not Johnny Buck Allis?”

She looked at me as if I had just asked her
how she knew her own name. “Are you kidding?”

“No. Tell me.”

She pointed at the photo, her index finger
directly over the charred skull. “This guy here?”

“Yes?”

“You told me Johnny Buck got his nickname
because of his bucked teeth.”

“I didn’t. Carlos did, but anyway.”

“Yeah well anyway this guy has perfectly
straight teeth.” She looked back at Ursula. “Come on, hun. Let’s
roll.”

The girls left, leaving Carlos, Spinelli and
me standing shoulder-to-shoulder, staring at a photo we all had
seen a dozen times before, only now it was as if we were seeing it
for the first time. “I don’t believe it,” I said. “How could we
have missed it?”

“Not only us,” said Dominic, “Everyone; the
police, F.B.I., U.S. Marshalls’ office, Secret Service and the damn
Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

Carlos said, “And it took just one look from
an unconcerned civilian to figure it out.”

“It just goes to prove what I keep telling
you two all the time.” I tossed the photo back onto the table.
“Things are not always what they seem. If ten people are told what
it is they are looking at, then nine of them are going to believe
it.”

Spinelli said, “We need to re-examine
everything we looked at since this case began, starting with Johnny
Buck.”

“You’re right. If the bones in this picture
are not Johnny Buck’s, then we need to find out who or what is
buried in his grave. Dominic?”

“Yes, I know. Get a warrant to exhume Mister
Allis’ grave and then meet you at the cemetery as soon as
possible.”

“If you would. In the meantime, Carlos and I
will be down at the Percolator. I think we owe Lilith and Ursula
breakfast.”

“Wait, why can’t I go?”

“Because, thou`est need not the distractions
of yon fair maiden to complicate this case.”