The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2)

by Linda Watkins

  Lundgren was leading me into dubious territory and I sensed that he was much more dangerous than I had previously surmised. I chose my words carefully.

  “I know of a man who broke the rules – transgressed as you say. And, in doing so, this man has done me great harm.”

  Lundgren stroked his chin, his eyes boring into me. “Harm? To you? How?”

  Now, I had to go all in. It was that or nothing.

  “He took my fiancé, a man in the prime of life. I want him back. Those pages, I believe, can help me accomplish this.”

  Lundgren shook his head. “I’m sorry this has happened to you. It shouldn’t have. But I cannot give you those pages. Now, please tell me the man’s name. He must be punished.”

  I bit my lip and said nothing.

  Lundgren waited, then smiled. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll find the name myself. And, believe me, I will.”

  I stared at him for a moment, then stood. “Could you please have Walter call me an Uber? My business here is completed.”

  Lundgren nodded once, then waved to his butler. “Call Dr. Pomeroy a car, Walter. She’s anxious to be on her way.”

  “You may wait here until your ride arrives, Dr. Pomeroy,” he continued. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I only wish we could have come to an accommodation. However, I expect we will meet again, and soon. Walter, get Dr. Pomeroy anything she wishes while she waits.”

  He turned to me again, stepped forward, and took my hand in his. He then bent over and kissed it lightly on the back.

  “Adieu, dear doctor. Till we meet again.”

  With those parting words, he turned and strode out of the room.

  My ride arrived and Walter escorted me down to the building’s entrance and waited until I was safely inside the car. Then he disappeared back inside.

  “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked.

  “The airport.”

  As we drove, I searched for flights and, finding one that left at midnight, I booked passage. Having bombed out at Harvard and now in New York, I decided it was time to enter the lion’s den. I was going to South Carolina.

  The flight was a short one and I arrived in Charleston a little after two a.m. Once again, I called for an Uber and by three in the morning was on my way to Morrison’s house. The drive wasn’t long – about an hour. Thanking the driver, I grabbed my rolling suitcase and, with my backpack over my shoulder, approached the estate.

  It was dark as would be expected at this hour. However, as I stepped onto the sprawling staircase, the porchlight went on and I heard the door open. When I reached the top, I was surprised to see a man, dressed in sweats, standing just outside the entrance.

  “Dr. Pomeroy?” he asked.

  “Yes, but how did you know?”

  The man smiled. “The Master has a picture of you by his bedside. May I help you with your bags? You must be tired.”

  I nodded and handed over my rolling suitcase.

  As I followed him inside, I studied him. He was African American, tall and slim – the physique of a basketball player. His dark hair was cut close to his skull and he walked with fluid grace.

  I followed him through the house until we came to the master bedroom.

  “The Master is not home,” the man said. “He has taken his vessel on a voyage to Bermuda. He is expected back tonight. I’ll contact him on the radio and let him know of your arrival. In the meantime, I am Emmanuel, and if you need anything, there is an intercom by the bed. Press one to call me.”

  As he spoke, he opened the door.

  The room was spacious, furnished with a king-sized bed, dressers, and nightstands. I could see a walk-in closet to the right and, to the left, through a curved archway, was what appeared to be a study or office. The bath was next to the closet.

  “Thank you, Emmanuel. Could I trouble you for some coffee?”

  “As you wish, Madam.”

  After he’d gone, I sat on the bed. I was exhausted, but still had work to do.

  Emmanuel returned shortly with a tray holding a pot of hot, black coffee and a sugar bowl made of fine China. I thanked him, waited for him to leave, then poured myself a cup.

  As I drank, I wondered where I should begin. It was my premise that those pages had been ripped from the Tao by Morrison and, if I were correct, I expected he would have hidden them here somewhere.

  I finished my coffee and stood. It was time to get to work.

  I started in the bedroom. I went carefully through the dresser, trying not to disturb the precisely folded articles of clothing. Jeremy was never this neat. His dresser drawers were often half open with clothing jammed inside helter-skelter.

  Finding nothing in the dresser, I continued on in the closet, where I found only clothing and shoes. The nightstands were next, but they contained just a book or two and chargers for his cell and iPad.

  There were several framed watercolors on the walls and I checked each of them to see if anything was taped to the back. All I found for my trouble were cobwebs. I also looked for a hidden safe, but I found none.

  Not daunted, I poured myself another cup of coffee and proceeded to search the alcove that served as an office or study. I started by looking into the window seat, which was full of linens. I then checked behind the paintings in this room, but again found nothing.

  I was purposely leaving the desk for last, a little frightened about what I might find there. Finally, I sat down in the swivel chair.

  The roll top was open and I first made note of the contents of all the little cubby holes, in which I found only office supplies – paper clips, pens, pencils, stickers, and the like. There was nothing on the desk itself except some papers related to the purchase of Jeremy’s new motor yacht, The Blue Lady. The space where his laptop would normally sit was vacant and I assumed he had taken it with him.

  Next, I tried the middle drawer, but it was locked. The side drawers were open but held, again, only miscellaneous office supplies.

  I jiggled the middle drawer, hoping it might unlock itself, but it didn’t oblige.

  Okay, I thought. If I were old man Morrison, where would I hide a key?

  I pulled out the side drawers again, one at a time, feeling underneath each one, hoping to find a key taped there.

  Nothing.

  I sat back thinking for a moment, sipping my coffee.

  The cubby holes.

  I checked the underside of each one – on the last one I hit pay dirt.

  A key.

  Carefully I removed the tape holding the key in place. I tried it in the middle drawer – it fit.

  Holding my breath, I pulled it open. Inside were several credit cards, copies of household bills, and property tax receipts. But no Tao pages.

  Beginning to feel frustrated, I sat back again staring at the drawer. Finally, I pulled it almost all the way out and ran my hand across the bottom side.

  At first, I found nothing. Then, toward the rear of the drawer, I felt something – an envelope taped to the bottom.

  My heart began pounding. I got out of the chair, pushed it aside, and knelt on the floor, looking up at the underside of the drawer.

  It was a brown envelope, probably eight by ten. Carefully, I pulled the tape away and put the envelope on the desk. It wasn’t sealed. I opened the clasp and peered inside.

  Three or four sheets of parchment written in Latin – the missing pages from my Tao Viperae.

  Carefully, I pulled them from the envelope and spread them out on the desk. They were extremely fragile and I wished I’d thought to don my white gloves before touching them. Knowing I couldn’t take them with me, I grabbed my phone from my backpack and began to take photos of each.

  When I finished, I returned the papers to the envelope and retaped it to its hiding place. Then I closed and locked the drawer and returned the key to the bottom of the cubby hole.

  I was just returning my cell to my backpack when I heard movement behind me.

  “Ahem.”

  I turned.


  Emmanuel was standing in the entryway to the alcove, staring at me.

  I repressed the desire to scream. Instead, I smiled.

  “Oh, hi, Emmanuel,” I said. “Did you need me for something?”

  The big man frowned. “The Master does not like anyone going through his things, Dr. Pomeroy.”

  While I didn’t know how long he’d been standing there or what he’d seen, I decided to brazen it out.

  I shrugged. “I’m not going through his things. I was just looking for a cell phone charger. I apparently left mine back on the island.”

  The man stared at me for a moment, then nodded. “The charger is in the nightstand, not the Master’s desk.”

  “Oh, silly me. I didn’t even think of that. Thank you. Now, was there something you wanted?”

  “The Master has changed his plans and is returning home forthwith. He should be here before nightfall. He was delighted when I told him of your arrival.”

  “Great,” I replied.

  Emmanuel nodded, then turned to leave.

  “Oh,” I said, stopping him. “Do you have any aspirin or ibuprofen? I feel like I’ve got a cold coming on. I think I may have picked up a virus on the plane.”

  “There is Tylenol and ibuprofen in the bathroom. In the medicine closet. Would you like me to get it for you?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I can manage.”

  The man, once again, nodded and, this time, left the room.

  Alone, I sat on the bed. I needed to get home but I knew I would have to stay until the man that was pretending to be Jeremy arrived. Faking illness would help, but I needed something more pressing.

  After a minute, I pulled my cell from the backpack and sent Steve a text. If he followed through on my instructions, I’d have the perfect way out.

  Tired, I lay on the bed. The adrenaline that had been keeping me going was rapidly diminishing. I needed sleep.

  Wrapping my arms around one of the pillows, I closed my eyes and waited for the sandman to come.

  I woke up to the sound of the door opening. Blinking my eyes, I looked to see who was there.

  It was Jeremy.

  “Kate! I knew you’d come!” he exclaimed as he strode over to the bed.

  I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

  He sat on the bed, reaching to take me in his arms.

  Before he could pull me to him, I feigned a dry cough.

  “Hack! Hack! Hack!”

  Quickly, he sat back, away from me. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

  I continued coughing for a minute more. Finally, I answered. “I think I caught a bug on the plane. The guy sitting next to me almost hacked up a lung. Sorry.”

  Jeremy smiled then lay his palm across my forehead. “Well, you don’t feel warm. Must be a virus. Anything I can get you?”

  “Emmanuel showed me where you stash your aspirin and stuff. I took some before I went to sleep.”

  I began coughing again and Jeremy stood. “You want some soup?”

  “No, but I could use some hot tea.”

  “Okay. Listen, you get dressed and meet me downstairs in the dining room. We’ll have breakfast and talk.”

  “Sounds, good.”

  After he left, I changed into shorts and a T-shirt, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. My reflection in the mirror looked haggard – probably the result of lost sleep during the past forty-eight hours. Normally, I would have spent some time using makeup to camouflage the dark circles under my eyes and the dullness of my skin. But not today. Today, I wanted to look bad.

  When I joined him in the dining room, Jeremy was already seated reading a newspaper, a full plate in front of him.

  “Help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the sideboard where several chafing dishes and trays sat, laden with food.

  “Wow!” I said as I grabbed a plate. “A little different from eating at your house on the island.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Yeah, but you can grow to like it.”

  I smiled, then put some toast and a small amount of scrambled eggs on my plate. I poured myself a cup of hot tea, then sat down.

  “That’s all you’re having?” he asked.

  I nodded. “My stomach is not what it should be. I think it’s wise for me to go easy on the food.”

  I took a bite of the toast, then was about to put a small forkful of eggs in my mouth when my cell chimed.

  I put the fork down and looked at the caller I.D.

  “It’s a text from Steve,” I said, frowning. “I wonder what he wants?”

  I opened the message.

  Kate, sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got a problem. State inspectors are coming tomorrow to check out the clinic. Sort of a surprise visit. I think you should be here. Let me know. Steve

  After reading, I looked up at Jeremy. “I have to go,” I said. “We’re getting a surprise inspection tomorrow and I have to be there. I’m sorry.”

  A frown on his face, Jeremy grabbed the cell from my hand and quickly read the text.

  I almost panicked. What if he decided to look into my photo album? He would find the pages from the Tao and my goose would be cooked.

  “Strange,” he said, staring at the message. “Having a ‘surprise’ inspection, but giving you twenty-four hours’ notice? Doesn’t seem right.”

  “No, it doesn’t but that’s our government in action. It’s what we pay our tax dollars for, I guess. Now, can I have my cell back? I need to book a flight.”

  “Do you really have to go? I mean, can’t Steve take care of it? He’s supposed to be such a hotshot.”

  I could hear a tinge of anger in his voice, not like my Jeremy at all.

  “Yes, Steve could handle it,” I said firmly. “But I’m the Clinic Director and I should be there. Now, I need to call to see if I can catch a flight.”

  I reached for my phone and he reluctantly gave it back. I quickly checked the airlines and found I could get out at noon. I glanced at the clock. I could make it.

  “I’ve got a flight at noon,” I said, finishing my breakfast. “I’ll call for an Uber to take me to the airport.”

  “No need,” said Jeremy testily. “Emmanuel will take you.”

  I started to reply – to thank him – but he’d already picked up the newspaper, obviously dismissing me.

  I swallowed back an angry retort, put my fork down, and left the room to get ready.

  When I came down the stairs with my backpack and rolling suitcase, Jeremy was waiting at the bottom. He took the suitcase from my hand, then put his arm around me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “I’ve been a real shit to you. I guess I’m just disappointed. I thought we’d have some time together. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. But you’ll be coming home soon, won’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, letting me go. “I’ll probably drive back next week.”

  “Good. Let me know when you leave.”

  He stared at me for a moment, then pulled me roughly into his arms and kissed me. I have to say, I returned his kiss. After all, those lips were Jeremy’s lips even if the entity inside his body was alien.

  “Have a good flight,” he said, pulling away.

  Emmanuel, who appeared out of nowhere, took my suitcase and, feigning reluctance, I followed him out to the waiting car.

  Once inside, I leaned back, glad to have made my escape with Jeremy none the wiser.

  “What airline, Dr. Pomeroy?”

  “United.”

  I arrived in Portland a little after two. Instead of heading for the wharf to catch a taxi to Storm, I caught a Lyft and made my way to Tabitha’s apartment. I’d called her from the Charleston Airport and sent her the photos I’d taken of the missing pages. She’d said she would begin work on them immediately and for me to drop by when I arrived in town.

  “This is more creepy stuff,” she said as I sat on the sofa. “It’s kind of like reading Bram Stoker, if you kn
ow what I mean. Van Helsing to the rescue and that sort of stuff.”

  As she spoke, she handed me a written translation.

  “It’s rough,” she said. “Those papers were in horrible shape. Faded and torn. It’s too bad they hadn’t been preserved.”

  “Yes, you’re right. But, thank you for doing this on such short notice. It means a lot to me.”

  We chatted a bit more and, once again, I offered to pay her but she refused. Leaving her apartment, I wished I knew of something I could do for her. Maybe, when all this business was over, I’d invite her to lunch or something – find out more about her and what happened to her. Perhaps there was something medically I could help her with.

  I arrived back on Storm a little after six in the evening. Exhausted, I took a hot shower, then made myself a bowl of soup along with a green salad.

  I ate greedily and then, feeling refreshed, sat on the sofa and pulled out Tabitha’s translation.

  75

  Kate

  The Missing Pages

  ALL HAIL THE Viper! Long shall he reign.

  The first part of the stolen pages began as did the beginning of the book, with several sentences of hyperbole about the blasted viper. I wondered, as I read, if I actually believed this stuff. I thought for a moment about Lundgren. I was sure he was one of them and, if he were a true believer, then I guessed I had to be, too.

  I sighed and continued reading. After all the flowery remarks, a section began entitled, The Inquisitor’s Obligations.

  The Inquisitor will be chosen by the ruling Viper and he shall remain in this role for one hundred years. When his term of service is over, another will be chosen and so on and so on until the end of time.

  The Inquisitor will be charged with assessing each individual Viper’s adherence to the Tao Viperae. Should a Viper be found wanting, it will be the Inquisitor’s duty to confront said Viper and warn him that he should mend his ways with haste. Should the violator not comply, the Inquisitor will lay upon him a second warning, advising him to step back onto the path laid out in the sacred book. Should the violator ignore the second warning and continue to blaspheme the Tao Viperae, it shall be the Inquisitor’s duty to destroy him … to wipe him from the face of the earth forever.