Witch House (30 page)

“Anyone we know?”

“I doubt it.”

Carlos said, “Is it Stephanie Stiles?”

Tarkowski grinned stupidly. “All right, I
guess you do know her.”

“Look,” I said, “We aren’t going to bust your
balls over this, but you need to know that Stephanie Stiles is a
person of interest in an ongoing investigation, one that you have a
professional, and now personal, stake in. I must strongly advise
against you leaving town with that woman.”

“Are you placing me under arrest?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to arrest Stephanie anytime
soon?”

“Come on, Frank, you know I am not at liberty
to discuss the disposition of pending actions in an active case one
way or the other. I am here simply to help the cause of a fellow
officer.”

“Then you can’t stop us from leaving.” He
crossed the room and began emptying the top drawer of a file
cabinet filled with personal trinkets into the box. It was time to
change the subject.

“Paul Kemper is your uncle, huh?”

He barely flinched. “So, you are spying on
me.”

“Do you know how this looks?”

“How what looks?”

“This. You. You were Landau’s parole officer.
Kemper, who went to college and roomed with the warden of the
prison where Landau served his time, was his lawyer. The warden and
the sentencing judge were brother’s-in-law; and all of you were
sleeping with Stephanie Stiles.”

Tarkowski slammed the filing drawer shut and
turned to me, pointing his finger like a gun. “You forgot Sergeant
Powell, Daniel Mochohyett and half a dozen other men in this town,
Detective.”

“Did Landau know about all the other
men?”

“Of course not. He thought he was
special.”

“And you? Knowing all the men she slept with,
you think you are special, too?”

“Things are different, Detective. Stephanie
is a one-man woman now, and I am her man.”

“I see. Frank, I have to ask you, do you own
a .38 revolver?”

The question muted his expression to a
chiseled stare, which fell to the floor like a stone. “Yes.”

“I am going to ask the court to let us have
it for ballistics testing. You can save us the trouble and—”

“I don’t have it.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t have it. I lost it a few days
ago.”

“When, Monday night? Tuesday, after we
talked?”

“Yes, around then.”

I looked to Carlos. He could hardly believe
it either. “Were you ever going to report it missing?”

Tarkowski shook his head. “It was my own
personal weapon, not department issued. I do not have to report it
missing. Besides, it will show up eventually. I am sure I simply
misplaced it.”

“You misplaced a firearm and you are not the
least bit worried about it?”

“That’s right. Is there a law against
that?”

“There should be,” said Carlos.

I put my hand on Carlos’ sleeve and gave him
a look that we had perfected over years. I call it the follow my
lead look. Carlos calls it the “here comes the bullshit look, but
I’ll play along”. I said to Tarkowski, “Frank, have you ever gone
to a bar called Pete’s Place?”

I could see him thinking carefully before
responding, perhaps wondering whether or not I already knew the
answer. He took a deep breath through his nose, stiffened his chin
and replied, “No, I don’t think so.”

I called his bluff. “Are you sure? I showed
your photo to Pete yesterday, and he said he saw you and René
drinking there Sunday night. Now which is it?”

He cleared his throat with a scowl as though
he had just swallowed the skin of a sour grape. “Yeah, that’s
right. I remember now. I did see René the other night. Yes, we did
go to Pete’s. I guess that was the name of the place. I was
thinking it was called Peppy’s or Pop’s or something like
that.”

“Of course, you did. So you were there.”

“Sure, listen, it was only for a few minutes.
He called me after Stephanie tossed him out of the apartment. I
thought I should go to him and help calm him down.”

“But you were his parole officer.”

“I know.”

“Was it not one of his probation stips that
he refrains from drinking in public places?”

“Yes.”

“You could lose your badge over that.”

“Look, Detective, the man called me. He was
all upset. I did not want him doing anything stupid that might get
him thrown back in prison after only twelve hours. I wanted to help
him.”

“Help him by sleeping with his fiancée?”

He held his hand up to stop me. “Stephanie
and I have been seeing each other since long before she and René
got serious.”

“Then why did she get engaged?”

“You will have to ask her that. Now if you
will excuse me, I have to get going. We have a plane to catch out
of Logan this afternoon at one, but first I need to stop at the
bank to get some cash.”

“So, you and Stephanie are still leaving,
after all we just talked about?”

“That’s right. Are you going to stop us?”

“I don’t suppose I can, legally.” Carlos and
I got up and started for the door. “But let me warn you. If you
don’t leave behind some way to contact you if we need to, then
I’ll….”

“You’ll what, hunt me down?”

He knew my words were hollow threats. I could
do nothing to stop him or to bring him back without something
concrete to go on. We left his office and waited out front of the
Justice Center in the car for him to leave. As he pulled away,
Carlos asked, “Are you going to follow him?”

“Only as far as Monroe,” I said, and I pulled
out after him.

“Then what?”

“Then when I see that he is turning down Main
to go to the bank like he said, we head to the Edgewater
apartments.”

“To Stephanie’s?”

“That’s right.”

“What are we going to do there?”

“I don’t know. I’m still working on that. I
will tell you one thing, though. We cannot allow those two to leave
town. I feel like things are only now starting to come together. We
just need more time.”

“Time,” he said, “is not a luxury we have.”
He popped the glove box and snagged a Snickers bar from inside.
“Yes! I thought I had of these in there.”

“Carlos,” I shook my head in disbelief. “We
just ate not one hour ago.”

He tore the top of the wrapper off and slid
the candy bar out of its sleeve and into his hand. “This is
dessert, Tony. It’s the most important part of the meal.”

“How do you figure?”

“Simple, without dessert you would never know
when the meal was over.”

“How about it’s over when you stop
eating?”

“That’s funny,” he said. He took a bite of
the candy bar, pointed it out the windshield and said with his
mouth full, “how `bout you just drive?”

I did, and the good thing about Carlos’ candy
was that it kept him quite for the duration of the ride, affording
me the time to come up with a plan that even surprised me. The
unfortunate thing about it was that it involved witchcraft,
something I thought Carlos might find amusing. I know Lilith
would.

We pulled up in front of Stephanie Stiles’
building and backed into a space between two large pickup trucks. I
put the car in park and shut off the motor. Turning to Carlos, I
said, “I cannot believe I am about to say this, but I need to
perform witchcraft.”

He laughed at first, perhaps suspecting I was
pulling a prank on him over the candy comment. When he saw that was
not the case, he straightened up in his seat and doled out a grin
that made him look surprisingly boyish. “You never do magic, not
since you did that scrying thing in Salem. Is that what you want to
do now? Are you going to scry for something? Hey, I got this lotto
ticket, maybe you can tell me if it’s gonna win.”

“No, Carlos, geez! Back down. I am not going
to scry. What the hell would I scry for anyway?”

His smile wilted. “I don’t know. You’re the
witch.”

“Exactly, now listen to me. I do not want to
do this, but I see no other way. Look, we need to keep Stiles and
Tarkowski in town, right?”

“Yes.”

“All right, so here’s deal. I am going to
make a whisper box and give it to Stephanie when she—”

“A whisper box?” He blinked at me annoyingly.
“What’s that?”

“It’s a suggestion spell. Ideally, it is
contained in a box, but it will work in an envelope or just about
any other vessel. The point is when she opens it, she will release
the magic and fall under the spell’s suggestion, and the best part
is that she won’t even know it.”

“Oh, you mean like one of them peanut cans
with the fake snake inside. I love that. See, you got this spring
that looks like a snake and it’s all coiled up in this can, and
when you open the lid—”

“Carlos, please focus. Stay with me, will
you? We don’t have a lot of time.”

“All right, Captain buzz kill. It’s your
prank.”

“It’s not a prank. Like I said, it’s a spell,
and whoever falls under it must obey its command.”

“Oh, I get it. That’s how you got into
Lilith’s pants, isn’t it? You sneaky devil, you cast a spell on
her.”

“No, I most certainly did not…well, okay
maybe once, but that’s not the discussion here. The discussion is
that now we have to make a whisper box for Stephanie.”

“You want to get into her pants, too?”

“Huh?”

“Tony, I don’t know; I think you can do a lot
better. I mean, I know that Lilith has you sleeping on the couch
lately, but….”

“Carlos! Focus! Get your head out of the
gutter. I am not going to cast a spell to get into her pants.”

“You’re not?”

“No, I am going to cast a spell that will
make her not want to leave town with Tarkowski, in fact she will
not want to go anywhere with him.”

“Oh, I get it. Hey. That is a great idea.
What do you need to get started?”

“A box,” I said. “In her case, a cigarette
box will work great.”

He shook his head. “Can’t help you. You know
I quit twenty years ago.”

“I know. What else do we have?”

“Well, let’s see.” He turned around to check
the back seat. “We have an umbrella.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’ll make her a whisper
umbrella.”

“Really?”

“No! Come on, find me something else.”

He turned back, fished under the front seat
and came up with nothing. A search of the glove box yielded a
flashlight, a pen, the cruiser’s maintenance log and a map of New
Castle, compliments of the New Castle Realty Group. In desperation,
he reached into the ashtray and retrieved the crumpled Snickers
wrapper that he had put there earlier. Handing it to me, he said,
“Will this work?”

I took it begrudgingly. “It will have to,
won’t it?” I unfurled the wrapper, poked my finger into the sleeve
and blew into it lightly.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“No, that’s not it,” I said, feeling a bit
silly for what I was about to attempt. “I’m just getting it
ready.”

“Oh, I see.” He scooted sideways in his seat,
his back to the door, his left arm up over the backrest. To say
that he expected a performance would be putting it mildly. His
spirited anticipation reminded me of a kid at a magic show where
expectations of conjured magnificence often meet with fizzled
disappointment. I did so hope that would not be the case here.

“I have only done this a couple of times,” I
told him. “I will need quiet.”

He did the zippered lip thing again and even
threw away the key. I tipped the candy wrapper up, and holding the
opening to my lips I began whispering the words to one of the first
spells I had ever successfully attempted. I felt good about it,
too, as the spell is not only a simple one, but also effective.
That it worked on Lilith twice proves its powers are strong. My
only reservation rested in my choice of vessels. I did not know how
and if a candy wrapper would work with a containment spell such as
this. After finishing it, I pinched the wrapper closed and folded
the top over. I looked at Carlos. Clearly, he had expected
something more. “Is that it?” he asked.

“That’s it.”

“Did it work?”

I held the wrapper up to the light of the
window. “I don’t know. A candy wrapper is a bit unorthodox. Maybe I
should check with Lilith.”

“Yes, check with Lilith. That’s a good
idea.”

“All right, I will. Here, take this.” I
passed the wrapper to Carlos, carefully handling it by the top
where the folded crease kept the spell locked in tightly. I got my
phone out and called Lilith, something I would rather have not
done, as I knew she would make a big deal over my using witchcraft
without her prompting. Ever since the witch’s rite of passage when
I became a witch by proxy, Lilith has been on my case to exercise
and explore my powers to keep them fresh and prevent their
deterioration. It had been my view that using witchcraft,
especially at work, is tantamount to embracing the dark art as a
religion; something I am just not comfortable with.

The phone rang three times, then I heard,
“Bright morrow caller, pray speak as thou wilt.”

“Ursula?”

“Aye, `tis Ursula. Be that you, Master
Tony?”

“Yes. Where is Lilith?”

In the background, I could hear a commotion
akin to a bar brawl, glass breaking, wood shattering and a deep
rumbling sort of growl that made me think of a grizzly bear. “Oh,
Lilith hast taken chores. Doth thou wish to leave for her thy
word?”

“No, thou wishes to speak to her right now.
Tell her it is important.”

“Kind sir.” A crash like a window breaking
interrupted her. She returned. “I beg thee forgiveness, verily, for
what dragon she slays not by choice now, she may ner the chance to
slay later.”

“What? A dragon? What is that commotion?”

In the background I heard Lilith say, “Who is
it Urs?”

“`Tis Master Tony. He begs a word with thee
is all.”

“No. Tell him I’m busy. He’ll have to call
back.”