"I believe that," I said. "What's he look like, this guy?"
"Ain't never seen him," he said. "He gets behind me, out on the farm. Whispers."
I could relate to that. "What about those two Dobermans?"
"He got 'em from that biker woman," he said. "That night he shot her, I was supposed to be along. I'd said no, 'cause I figured he was finally gonna do what he'd been sayin' he was gonna do."
"Which was shoot me."
He coughed. It sounded like his lungs were in trouble. "That's right," he said. "That's why she was along. I wouldn't go. He got all pissed off, said he didn't have time to deal with me right then, but he'd be back. Said he'd take care of me once he was done with you. Said I'd become a loose end, and he'd get me, or maybe Patience. Fucker's crazy, scary crazy."
Now I understood some of his despair. "Is Valeria part of this?"
"Don't know," he said. "Ms. Valeria's got a streak in her. Ol' Hester, she's a damn snake, but Patience? She says Ms. Valeria's got two women inside of her. That's why she don't want me talkin' to neither of 'em. She says she never knows who she's talkin' to with that one."
"What about the major?"
"He just gone," Cubby said, coughing again. His hands were starting to tremble.
"You knew all about the underground passages out of this house?"
He nodded. "That's not all I know," he said. "Lemme show you something."
"What's that?"
"Reason why Ol' Hester don't want nobody in this house." He pointed to the dogs with his chin. "They gonna let me up?"
"They'll watch you until I tell them something different," I said. "Where we going?"
"The kitchen," he said. "I'm gonna need me a hammer."
Like I was going to give him a hammer. On second thought, watching him move was pretty painful. I went out to the Suburban, got the toolbox, and extracted a small hammer. He was waiting at the door when I got back up on the porch, but he couldn't open it. There was now a small red stain on his side. Z-pack or no, I was going to have to call EMS.
He shuffled through the house to the back stairs, and we went down to the lower level of the house. He put out his right hand for the hammer, and I gave it to him. He walked over to that huge colonial fireplace that took up most of the back wall. He moved to the left edge of it and then stepped sideways twice, to not quite the center. Then he whacked the front of that plastered, monolithic stone lintel stone, blasting a big chunk of plaster right off it. He did it again, and suddenly I saw that there was writing under the plaster. When he was finished knocking the plaster off, there were crude block letters that spelled out the name CALLENDAR.
He gave me back the hammer and then had to sit down in one of the creaky kitchen chairs. His forehead was covered in perspiration.
"Okay," I said. "Who's Callendar?" I pronounced it Cal-en-dahr, but Cubby shook his head. "Calendar," he said, pronouncing it like the familiar noun. Then I remembered the story Carol had told me, about the young buck from across the road who'd stolen away the affections of Nathaniel Lee's wife. She'd pronounced it like that as well, now that I thought of it.
"You mean the guy who got himself invited to a duel on the river bridge and all that?" I asked.
"That's it," he said. "See, Callendar Lee's come back for his inheritance."
"You mean his ghost," I said. "It's been over a hundred fifty years."
"When the Lees run Ms. Abigail off, she went on back to Wilmington," he said. "This here's her many-greats grandson, or so he claims. Patience told me that old Nathaniel had him a will, leaving everything to Ms. Abigail, when things was still good between them. Callendar came sniffin' around, got Ms. Abigail to run off with him, and then he and Nathaniel Lee had 'em their duel. Nathaniel's wound rose up to proud flesh and killed him before he ever changed his will."
"What would that matter to Callendar?" I asked. "He died in the duel."
"Unh-unh," he said. "He got shot, yeah, but he wasn't killed. He went into the river, got carried down a ways, and then got hisself out. Made it down to Wilmington, where he ended up with Abigail. She knew all about that will, so when she was dyin' some years later, she made up her own will, and she left Oak Grove to Callendar."
"Did he make the claim?"
"Hunh-unh," he said. "By then Nathaniel's sons had the plantation, and Callendar knew if he ever come back to Rockwell County, those boys would kill him for sure, 'cause he'd put their daddy in the ground. Then the war came. Nathaniel's sons died at Gettysburg. Then they got cholera on the place. Wasn't no Lee womenfolk left, so the whole place was abandoned, then went for the taxes."
"How do you know all this, Cubby?"
"Patience," he said. "Those women over there? They talk about stuff. They talk a lot, 'specially 'bout the old days. Remember, now, that's where they livin'. Most time they act like Patience ain't even there."
"And this talk was all about this supposed will?"
"Long as they had some say in who lived there, like ol' Ms. Tarrant, they could pretend like they owned it."
"Well, hell, I'm not sure such a will would have any standing today, but why didn't this long-lost descendant just hire a lawyer to find out?"
"Hester don't want nobody over here," Cubby said. His voice was losing strength. I knew I had to get him medical attention, but there was also a lot more I needed to know.
"Why is that?"
"Somethin' to do with that," he said, pointing to the lintel. "It was Ms. Hester had me plaster over that, long time ago."
I considered that.
"How did Hester and Valeria find out about my buying the place?" I asked.
"Somebody at the courthouse," he said. "Lotta gossip over there."
That was for sure. "This is important, Cubby," I said. "Would you be willing to help me get this Callendar guy?"
He nodded and started to answer, but then his eyes closed and he slumped in his chair. I felt his pulse. It was weak and thready.
I called the Rockwell County Sheriff's Office and said I had to speak to Sheriff Walker.
In a meeting.
Get him out.
Why should we?
"I've got the shooter in the Glory's End homicide."
Wait one.
Then Walker came on. He started to ask a bunch of questions, but I cut him off. I told him I needed EMS out here immediately to attend to a gunshot wound case, and I needed him out here to handle the turnover of the individual to the EMS team. There was a moment of silence, then he agreed. Smart guy that he was, he knew better than to ask a bunch of questions in front of his people.
The ambulance showed up fifteen minutes later, with Sheriff Walker and one of the detectives right behind them. They hooked Cubby up to IVs right there in the kitchen and then rolled him outside to transport. Sheriff Walker personally signed the dispatch paperwork so the hospital would not need to file any police reports over a GSW patient.
The sheriff, the detective, and I retired to the front porch, and I brought both of them up to speed. I then suggested that the detective go across the road and get Patience, so she could get to the hospital. Once he'd left to do that, Walker raised his eyebrows, as in, Okay, what's the real deal here?
"I believe Cubby Johnson was forced into this by Hester Lee and this Callendar guy from Wilmington," I said. "They know something about Cubby, and they're holding it over him."
"Blackmail?"
"Yes, but again, not for money. He's been helping this Callendar fella. That's why he could move around as well as he could."
"Cubby Johnson."
"Yep."
He thought about that for a long moment. "I've known the Johnsons for some time now," he said. "This is way out of character for either of them."
"Thought so, too."
"Did he tell you what the something was?"
"He did, but for now I'd like to pretend he didn't. If I can tell him I haven't revealed his secret, I may be able to get him to come over to my side of this fight."
"This is
not like him at all."
"I know," I said. "I think Callendar used him mostly for local knowledge and access. The escape tunnels. The well trap and the really convenient rescue. Putting stuff on the cottage windows. The dogs didn't react because they knew him."
"How about shooting the Craney woman?"
"He said he backed out that night when he realized the guy meant to do more than run me off. Callendar apparently then told him he, Cubby, had become a loose end, and that there would be payback, possibly for both him and Patience."
"Okay, but then what the hell was he doing out there on that rope? And shooting at you when you caught up with him?"
"Don't know," I said. "Unless he thought I was Callendar. Or he's lying, and he was the boat man, waiting for Callendar, the rope man. I surprised him, and he opened fire. Unfortunately, it was a handgun against a shotgun. No contest."
"We need to find out his medical status before we go over there," he said.
"Right," I said. "If he's in ICU, there's no point. Otherwise, here's what I'd like to do."
When I had finished, he nodded agreement. He had two conditions: He had to be there, with an assistant district attorney, when I made my proposition to Cubby, and his people had to be involved when we went after this mysterious Callendar.
I grinned at him. "You think I might just shoot your prime suspect?"
"You didn't hesitate to shoot his accomplice," he said. "I want to interview this fuck. Then maybe you can shoot him."
"Deal."
Tony and Pardee arrived an hour later at the stone cottage. I brought them up to speed on the Cubby revelations and then sent Pardee over to Glory's End to set up the video surveillance system. Tony stayed behind.
"I think I know where this bastard's been holing up," I told him.
"Right up the hill there?"
"Yeah, I think so. The spider hole across the river would be convenient for night ops and stashing shit that might upset the Auntie Bellums, but that house is bigger than the one across the street. If this is all about scaring me off the property so he can inherit it and Hester can rule it, then they're all in on it. Except maybe the major."
"Is that what's keeping Sheriff Walker from getting warrants and tearing shit up here at Laurel Grove? Because it's the Lees?"
"It may well have a bearing," I said. "This is a small town and county. It's full of goddamned Lees, and it is the S-O-U-F, South, after all."
"Well, hell," Tony said. "Let's us get strapped and go on up there, search the fucking place, collar his hateful ass, and hand him over."
"I promised the sheriff he would run that side of it. This Callendar guy is his prime suspect in an open homicide. We bag him, some liberal judge will just have to throw it out. No, what I want to do is get him out of that house for one last play session."
"You think he knows Cubby's talked?"
"I told the deputy to tell Patience that Cubby checked himself into the ER because his ear infection wasn't getting any better. I also told him to get her to use her car to go get him, as opposed to going in the cruiser. So right now, she'll think the cops think it's still just an earache."
"How about the fact that a cop car came with that news?"
"He knows Patience. They're neighbors. He made some shit up about being in the ER for another problem and talking to Cubby, who was on eternal hold at the front desk while they took care of last night's cutting and gutting."
"The sheriff can't just go get a search warrant and go through the big house here?"
"He apparently feels he can't," I said. "I don't know--maybe the judge in town is yet another Lee, Hester's brother or something."
"So what he really wants is for you to front him."
"Yeah, I think so. I told you, he suggested I run for sheriff out here because he's going to retire. This may be his way of showing me how shit really works in this county."
"Ah, the lovely countryside," he warbled. "Where fangs are long and the maws are wide."
"Yeah, well, I think I'll go make a call on Ms. Valeria Lee. Hold the fort here. If I don't come back, call the sheriff."
"Don't come back?"
I looked up the hill toward the big house. For the first time, even in the daylight, it looked just a bit sinister.
There was no doorbell near the front door, so reluctantly I lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop twice. It sounded like the crack of doom on the huge door. I knew that Patience wasn't there, so one of the ladies would have to answer, assuming they would perform such a menial action.
It took almost two minutes, and I was just about to knock again when I heard footsteps approaching in the hall. The door opened and Valeria stood there. She was in costume, with a pair of antique round eyeglasses, suspended by thin black straps, hanging on her bosom.
"Mr. Richter," she said. "To what do we owe the honor today?"
"I'm looking for a man named Callendar," I said, figuring that this wasn't the time to beat around the bush with delicate pleasantries.
Her eyebrows went up, and I caught just the faintest intake of breath before she regained her customary equanimity. "He's right over there," she said, pointing into the drawing room to the right. I stepped in and saw that she was pointing to the portrait that held the place of honor over the fireplace.
"That's Callendar, the original?"
"That's Callendar Jackson Lowndes Lee," she replied, closing the front door. "I'm afraid he's been dead for over a hundred fifty years, though, so if you're really looking for him, we cannot help you. No one can."
"Because he went into the Dan River after Nathaniel shot him?"
Another eyebrow twitch. "That's correct," she said. "Or, more accurately, that's the tradition as told down through our family, Mr. Richter. Is this another one of your mysteries? Are you, what's the word, 'detecting' today?"
"The Callendar I'm looking for is of a more recent vintage. I believe he's been staying in this house while conducting a guerrilla campaign to drive me away from Glory's End."
"Why, that's preposterous," she exclaimed, her voice rising. "There's no one in this house besides Mother, the major, and me, and Patience, of course, during the day. Where did you get such an idea?"
"So you won't mind if the sheriff comes by and conducts a house search?"
"There'll be none of that!" snapped Hester Lee, emerging from the other drawing room. She was brandishing an antique short-barreled shotgun. Those guns were heavy, but she was managing just fine.
"So he is here," I said.
"You, sir," she said. "Sit down in that chair right there."
"Mother," Valeria began.
"Do not interfere, Valeria. This man is dangerous to us. Sit down!"
I sat. Shotguns will have that effect.
"For what it's worth, I've already called the sheriff," I said. "He may not care for the sight of that coach gun."
"Sheriff Walker will pay far more attention to what I want than what you want, Mr. Richter," she said. "Valeria, go to the front door and keep watch."
"What do you want, Ms. Hester? What's so vital that all the Lees are suddenly afraid of me?"
"Afraid of you, Mr. Richter? We're nothing of the kind. You should be afraid of me."
"Did Valeria tell you I'm having a title search done on Glory's End?"
"Why should I care?" she asked. To my great relief, I heard the sound of a vehicle crunching up the driveway outside.
"Because old Whatley Lee is supposed to be quite thorough. Slow, but thorough."
Valeria opened the front door. A moment later Sheriff Walker stepped past her, took in the tableau in the drawing room, and stopped.
"Ms. Hester, whatever are you doing?" he asked in a casual, even conversational tone of voice.
"This man is a trespasser. You must arrest him at once."
"That's funny," I said. "I thought Valeria let me in. Why is Valeria doing door duty, by the way? Where's Patience?"
"What?" Hester said.
"Where's Patience? Is this her d
ay off?"
Hester looked confused, then glanced sideways at Valeria for an explanation. "Patience had to go to the hospital, Mother," Valeria said. "Cubby has some sort of infection, and she had to attend to him."
"Why wasn't I told?" Hester said. "The servants do not just leave this house without permission."
"Because Cubby's got more than just a little earache," I said. "Cubby's in intensive care for gunshot wounds, which he received in the course of a gunfight. With me, actually. Apparently he's been helping your star boarder here. Now it seems he's had a change of heart. He was telling me something about an old will?"
Her face froze, and then she wasn't brandishing the shotgun anymore, she was pointing it right at my head. "You horrid man," she hissed. "I ought to shoot you right there, in that chair."
"Ms. Hester," the sheriff said. "Put that thing down before you do something you'll regret forever."
"There are already things I will regret forever," Hester said. "What's one more?"
"Mother, for God's sake," Valeria said.
"Be still, girl," Hester said. "This concerns the family. Mr. Richter here knows something he should not know."
"Ms. Hester," the sheriff interjected. "Put that gun down right now. You shoot this man, the Lee family name will be destroyed. Let me take care of this. I will arrest him and take him to jail. Then we can sort things out."
It was interesting, if not downright exciting, to watch the play of emotions on the old lady's face. One moment she looked as if the family name could go screw itself, the next, she was hesitating, and then the word "jail" penetrated.
"You will put him in jail?"
"And throw away the key, Ms. Hester. If he's frightened you so much, there must be something terribly wrong about him."
The shotgun began to waver just a little. I decided it was okay to exhale.
"Take him away, then," Hester said. "Forthwith, before the major sees him. The major will not hesitate to take direct action, as you well know." Valeria was trying to look indifferent over in one corner of the room, but she was also fanning herself with a folded lace hankie.
"You know you can depend on me, Ms. Hester," the sheriff said. "If I take him, I can protect you and the family against any further disturbances. You must distance yourself from actual acts of violence. Think of the family name."
Cam - 04 - Nightwalkers Page 25
