The Unforgiven

by Heather Graham

  “Lots of men are big,” Axel said as he stood.

  Katie scrambled to her feet to join them; they were leaving.

  Again, they thanked the couple with both Dan and Axel leaving their cards behind should the couple think of anything else.

  When they reached the car, Dan turned to Katie. “Will you call Jeremy again, please?”

  “I... Sure, but—”

  “Please.”

  She got Jeremy on the phone and handed it over to Dan as Axel drove.

  Dan asked Jeremy about the day in the French Quarter after the storm when they’d had trouble.

  “Among the people there... Was there anyone large?”

  He listened to what Jeremy had to say and then ended the call.

  “What?” Katie and Axel inquired in unison.

  “Well, there are many tall men in New Orleans,” Dan said.

  “But...what did Jeremy say?”

  “The man your father had the altercation with was average-tall, maybe six one, six two. But he thought one of the guys hanging around in the background—he’s not even sure if he was with the group or not—seemed to be taller. Notably bigger. It’s the only reason he remembers.”

  “Okay, the Axeman then and now is a big guy, on the taller side of average, and he runs around the city in a long dark coat and slouch hat,” Katie said. She shook her head. “We don’t know! Mona might have thought the man was taller than he was. And—”

  “There’s still possibly more than one person involved in this,” Dan said. “Six if Nathan Lawrence was telling the truth. They were short one person, and for some reason they thought he might be the right guy to fill their ranks. Maybe because he has family money but is in truth a mild-mannered teacher who is so gullible he’s unaware his wife is out to get him. Either that, or he’s a damned good liar, and he’s laughing his ass off at us right now, or hurrying to tell his god or demon or leader that we fell for everything that he said.”

  “There’s someone calling the shots. The others adhere to him. Nathan Lawrence may be hapless and innocent, which means someone else was contacted after him,” Axel said. He glanced over at Katie, in the passenger’s seat next to him. “We got a social website from him. We’re trolling it, trying to see if we get a bite.”

  Katie nodded. “So now...” she mused.

  “Axel is taking us to George’s hotel on Canal. Easy walking distance to my house. We’ll see George and then get my car for anything else we’re going to try to accomplish today.”

  Axel dropped them off. “I’m on to see the fortune-teller who works the square and who is certain that the number six is coming and we all need to repent. I’ll let you know if it’s anything or if we should see her together,” he added to Dan.

  Dan nodded. They headed into the hotel. It was a nice place. Katie had always liked it; though, if she knew people were coming for something other than a convention, she liked to suggest the independent NOLA hotels. They tended to be historic, charming and unique.

  But George’s choice of hotel on Canal had been a good one: a large lobby offered plenty of room for people to sit and chat, and the nearby bar and coffee corner allowed for either libation that might be the right thing. She headed to a housephone to let George know they were there. He asked if they wanted to head up or him to come down. Then he suggested the restaurant in the hotel; he didn’t want to go out.

  He’d come to feel safe there.

  They met him in the restaurant. Katie wasn’t hungry. She was pretty sure she’d eaten quite enough at Coffee Science, but she decided to pick at an appetizer to share with Dan.

  George ordered a hearty late lunch/early dinner, and when their waiter had gone to put in their orders, he leaned low and asked anxiously, “Have we learned anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  “There was an exodus out of the hotel this morning. Lots of people are leaving the city,” George said.

  “And many will stay...and/or hurry back,” Katie said.

  “You knew Lou Delaney and his wife—and Katie—for years, right?” Dan asked.

  “I met Katie’s parents when they moved to Florida, before Katie was born. We all...well, we all loved a lot of the same things. I was in the navy, too, way back. Not career, but I did my time. We loved boats, diving...all kinds of things about the water. And then, of course, sun and sand. Resting under swaying palms while the water lapped on the shore. That kind of thing. Even the study of sharks,” George said. He winced. “We actually met in a chat room—old navy guys—before we met in person. Why?”

  “Did Lou talk to you about the time he came up here to help Jeremy after the storm?”

  “Ah, yes. Of course. He couldn’t wait to help. He wanted to see Jeremy, he wanted to be here. First, lives were at stake, and the country was kind of a mess over it. You know, everyone had thought New Orleans had dodged the worst bullet the storm could bring, but then the levees broke all over the place, and it was a true disaster. He was anxious to do something. When he came home, he was both pleased and disheartened. He told me most of the time, people were decent. Damned decent. He saw young, healthy people sharing water and whatever they had with children and the elderly. He saw people risking their lives to save others. And then he saw looting and those who were greedy. But for the most part, he was encouraged. Most people, he truly believed after the experience, were good people. Decent. Willing to help others. Then, of course, there were those who were the opposite. And there was one guy he struck right in the face, some guy with a bunch of thugs in the streets. They weren’t just looting, they knocked over an old man to take something that he was eating. You didn’t do a thing like that in front of Lou.”

  “Did he mention a particular event, George? Or a particular person?”

  George was thoughtful. “Just what I was telling you about—they were near Esplanade but in the French Quarter. People could walk in the streets, but businesses were down. An invitation to lowlifes, I guess. He was furious to see an old man knocked down. And he socked someone in the jaw.”

  Katie looked at Dan. “That sounds like my dad. This is like what Jeremy told us...”

  “I wasn’t in NOLA then,” George reminded them. “I only know what he told me, but...”

  “What?” Dan asked as George’s voice trailed.

  “He said something about it being a small group of horrible people. He and Jeremy wound up getting the cops. I don’t know if they got them at all because your dad and Jeremy reported them and moved on. But he said the man he punched had taken a few wild slams at him first, and he was disgusted because there was a big guy with him. But they were all a bunch of cowards because the rest of them lurked in the shadows when he got his blow in and warned them all he was going to the cops.”

  “A small group,” Dan said. “Maybe a small group of six.”

  Dan reached into his jacket pocket. He again produced the pictures he’d taken of the man—Neil Browne, as they knew him—and Jennie meeting with Nathan Lawrence in the restaurant.

  “You know movie magic, George. Could this man be wearing prosthetics?” Dan asked him.

  George stared at the picture a long time.

  “That looks like him, yes, and... Well, the nose. The nose and the ridge on the brow—when done well, it can really change everything.” He looked at Dan. “That’s him. The last show I was working on...well, not a show, but the movie that just wrapped up. They were using a lot of prosthetics. It was something of a mystery sci-fi thing. Time travel. The writer is convinced, I think, that Neanderthals didn’t disappear, they just intermarried, and we all went happily on to become the Homo sapiens we are today. And I—”

  He stopped speaking. His color went red, and then he seemed to become pale as ash.

  “The movie,” he whispered.

  “Yes?” Katie pushed.

  “He-he...this man. He might have bee
n in the movie. There was a day about a month ago when they hired on dozens of extras. They were showing time and time travel and...he might have been there. Right in the group. Oh, my God. Both. I mean, it was kind of a zoo. They had so many extras in, and there were three makeup trailers, and everyone had to be done... Silicone.”

  “Silicone?” Katie said.

  “They were using tons and tons of silicone.”

  “So,” Dan said, “you think Neil Browne and Jennie worked on the movie? Was there a public invitation for extras? How would they have been hired?”

  “It was in the newspaper. I think they advertised for sixty extras. I mean some, of course, needed very little makeup. But they’d advertised for all ages, all ethnicities, male and female.” George suddenly started scribbling on a napkin. “Carly Britton. She was the casting director on the picture. She would know. And she would know if there was someone who took the documentation for paychecks and the IRS and all that. If they were there—”

  “They would have given fake names. But your Carly Britton may still be able to help us, George.”

  He nodded glumly.

  “What is it?”

  “The production company,” George said sadly.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re going to start up again. This time, something like a Hitchcock thriller. They asked me if I wanted to be a PA.”

  “And?” Katie asked him.

  George sat back, shaking his head. “Not until this is over. Nope. I am not leaving this hotel until this is over!”

  Katie nodded, understanding.

  Dan had his phone out.

  “Wait!” George said. “I’ll call Carly for you, set you up with her.” George leaned back in his chair to hear clearly as he put a call through to the casting director.

  While George was still speaking with Carly, Dan’s phone rang. He answered it and then looked at Katie.

  “Ryder.”

  “And?” she asked hopefully.

  “We have an appointment right now.”

  “With?”

  “A fortune-teller.”

  “A fortune-teller?” Katie said. “You mean...one of the mediums working on Jackson Square in front of the cathedral?”

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “Because Benny was approached by someone talking about the number six and saying a demon was coming or warning people to repent. I don’t remember the exact conversation. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, this was going on, but that might well mean that anyone working on the square as a palm reader, tarot reader or anyone with a crystal ball might be zeroing in on the situation we have going.” She hesitated. “I think Benny said she was warning about something supernatural... I guess it could be the same person.”

  “Maybe,” Dan said softly. George was still speaking with the casting director.

  He waited for George to finish his call.

  George looked at the two of them. “Carly says that she’s available after four this afternoon. She has an office on Magazine Street. I’ll text it to you.”

  “George, thank you,” Dan said.

  As they prepared to leave, Dan absently took Katie’s hand.

  It was...a gesture.

  She’d made a point of not letting him think that she’d become...clingy. Expecting anything.

  And yet...

  Holding his hand felt natural, good. Like being with him... When she’d hated him, she just hadn’t seen how striking he was, even charming at times, honest, determined, strong...

  Perfect.

  She lowered her head, sighing.

  This was not a time to think that she was falling into...whatever it was that she was falling into. But she was glad of his hand.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “He just looked at me. And I knew!” the woman whispered.

  Her name was Greta Marks; she was forty-six, an attractive woman with long dark hair and eyes as dark as coal.

  If someone was looking for a stereotype, she did appear to be the perfect medium. And she knew it; she was dressed in a peasant blouse and colorful skirt and carried a large black bag. She’d opened it for them, displaying her crystal ball, tarot cards, and several books on discerning tarots, reading palms and understanding the messages that could be found in a crystal ball.

  She was at Ryder’s station, and they weren’t in an interrogation room; they were talking to her in his office.

  Dan had asked Ryder earlier how he had come to know about the woman. Had she been one of the hundreds to call in a tip, or had something happened with her?

  She had been part of a tip. A tourist had called in to tell about a reading on the square at which she’d become afraid. The medium had told her the gates of hell were breaking loose, subtly, and that her lifeline wasn’t very long. She was susceptible to a demon, and an immortal demon was in the city.

  Greta Marks hadn’t protested when Ryder had found her and asked her to come into the station. But Ryder had done it the right way: he’d asked for her help. He wanted to know anything she could tell him about the demon and the number six and what was happening with the gates of hell.

  “Did you meet the demon?” Dan asked her, after they had been introduced and were all seated in Ryder’s office, including Katie.

  “Well, of course I saw him. He came to me,” Greta told them earnestly.

  Ryder produced one of the sketches drawn from Katie’s memory of Neil Browne and showed it to Greta.

  “Is that him?” Ryder asked.

  “Oh, um. Hm... Maybe. The face is...different. But the eyes... See, that’s where you know,” Greta explained. “The world is full of charlatans.” She laughed. “Take Washington, DC. Look at what goes on up there, eh? Everyone lying, and I’m not picking on any party. They act the good act! We see people here all the time who think they’re something special, or unique or...” She paused, shrugging. “But when he came to me, I knew. I just knew. I looked into his eyes, and I knew he was the real thing.”

  “Did he ask for a reading? Cards, a palm reading?” Katie asked quietly.

  “He asked me to read my crystal. To tell him what I could see in my crystal ball. But he was the one who saw events first...and he showed them to me. First, it appeared that storm clouds filled the space, and lightning jagged, and then...the clouds seemed to grow red. He said death and destruction were coming, and we all needed to adhere to the number six, bow down to the number six. A presence had returned from the bowels of hell. He had come, the immortal one. And I just stared into that ball because I could see it all as he told it! Storms, darkness, shadows, thunder, lightning, blood...and death. I was... I was so scared! But he told me I was safe, protected by six, but I must warn others. Tell them the immortal being was back, that hell was out there, a demon wielding a bloody axe.”

  “But this was after the first murders, and before the woman was found at the old family cemetery?” Dan asked, glancing at Katie.

  Greta nodded somberly. “I... Yes, I believe so. I... I don’t know if he was the immortal one, or if he was a prophet for the immortal one. But he promised I would be safe but that I should spread the word, warn others that they had best repent, that they...they needed to adhere to the number six.”

  “Greta, look at the picture again, will you please?” Ryder asked her. “How did he appear different?”

  “His chin and nose...his chin almost had a point. And his nose was larger...or longer. He...he almost had the look of a satyr or something like that,” Greta said. “But he wasn’t threatening to me. He was kind. He promised I would be safe.”

  “How many times did you see him?”

  “Just that once. Oh, and he gave me cards to give out, cards with the number six written on them. You know, just playing cards, but all with the number six.”

  “And did you give them all out?
” Katie asked softly.

  “Yes! I did within the next hour!” Greta said. She frowned suddenly. “I—I want to help. That’s why I came in. I don’t want people to die. I don’t want the city to be in a cloud of blood. I saw this man only once, and as I told you, he’s very real and... I made sure to do what he asked of me. Getting the warning out, telling people about the number six, getting those cards out. I know I’ll be safe, but Detective, now it’s up to you. Please, tell people to honor the number six. And to listen and obey when someone comes, telling them to obey the laws of six, the law of the immortal demon. It’s up to you!”

  “Greta, what was he wearing?” Dan asked.

  “A cotton shirt...trousers. Not jeans, trousers. He was nice-looking, um...smooth.”

  “Did he wear boots, shoes? Did he wear gloves?”

  “Shoes, not boots, not sneakers. Leather dress shoes. And no gloves. He would have looked silly wearing gloves, I think.” She shook her head. “He wasn’t silly. There was nothing silly about him. Everything about him was...real. You must warn people. The demon will only hurt those who don’t know that he must be honored. And honor our great music, too. Jazz must be played. I don’t think he cares for modern music. There is a lot of screeching and that kind of thing. Jazz is true music. I think... I can’t remember everything that was said! Especially when I was staring into the ball. It was watching something amazing!”

  Ryder nodded politely. “Greta, I’d like you to see a friend of mine for a bit of a conversation.”

  “Oh?” Greta asked.

  “Come with me,” Ryder said gently. He glanced at Dan and Katie, a nod that indicated he’d be right back.

  “I think Benny may have gotten one of those cards,” Katie told Dan when the two had left Ryder’s office.

  “This probably is the same woman who approached him. Would he have kept the card?” Dan asked her.

  “I can call him, but if he’s working, his phone will be off. It will vibrate. That way he knows he needs to check his phone when he takes a break. But he was going to be Satchmo today... The same woman told him he should be Satchmo. Louis Armstrong.”