“G’morning, Storm,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Busy night?”
“You could say that,” Raven replied. “This was Tobias Boone’s room. He was surprisingly easy to track down once I had an idea of where to look.”
Levac looked around with interest. “Really? This is where Boone was staying? How did you find it?”
“I followed the food, just like you would,” Raven replied. “It looks like either he was on King’s payroll or whoever was paying King was also paying Boone.”
“Given the circumstances, either is possible, but I vote for the second.” Levac finished his sandwich and, with a glance at Raven, stuffed the wrapper in his jacket pocket rather than tossing it on the floor.
Raven arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Why is that?”
“’Cause it looks like King had a definite hard-on for Victoria Laveau,” he said. “It seems unlikely he would pay Boone to kill her and make it look like some voodoo ritual that went haywire.”
“You could be right,” Raven said. “But this could also be some weird crime of passion gone wrong. Dr. Zhu was unable to come up with an accurate time of death. His best guess puts them within a few days of each other, but it is just a guess. The condition of the bodies didn’t help much.”
Levac nodded. “Yeah, I saw that in his report. We keep getting more mysteries and no clues. So what’s our next move, partner?”
Raven looked around at the technicians who were filing in to begin processing Boone’s belongings and then looked back at Levac. “Back to the station while Ryan’s boys do their thing. Maybe we will get lucky for a change.”
Levac smiled humorlessly. “Knowing your luck, I somehow doubt it will be anything good.”
V
The morning sun torched away the early fog, leaving the city shining like a fresh-cut diamond in the autumn light. Raven hardly noticed. She and Levac had spent the morning perusing the files for any possible connection between Nathan King, Victoria Laveau, and Tobias Boone. They agreed that Brand Symone was still their most likely suspect; however, the connection at present was tenuous, their evidence circumstantial. They needed to find something more substantial than an argument over Victoria.
Frost had ordered in lunch for the group and Raven sat with Levac, chewing a ham salad sandwich and staring at the collection of lines, circles and names they had drawn on the window with magic markers. They were just finishing their sandwiches when Raven’s phone rang. She swallowed her last bite of sandwich and picked it up. “This is Detective Storm, how can I help you?”
The voice on the other end was the unmistakable rumble of the bocor Tasker. “I have that information you requested. Can you meet me at my church?”
Raven caught Levac's eye. “When?”
“Now,” was Tasker’s reply.
“My partner and I are on our way,” Raven said. “We'll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I'll be waiting for you,” Tasker said, and then the line went dead.
Raven stared at the phone for a moment and then turned her attention to Levac. “That was the bocor I visited yesterday."
“And? I take it we're not going for tea and crumpets,” Levac said.
“He says he has information for us.” Raven picked up her purse and moved toward the door. “Maybe we just got lucky.”
“And maybe the FAA just handed out the first flying-pig license,” Levac joked, shrugging into his stained sport-coat. “Bet you a beer we get attacked by zombies or something on the way.”
“It won’t be zombies.” Raven led the way to the parking lot. “That’s been done. I’m betting on pirates.”
“Pirates? What do pirates have to do with anything?” Levac asked, perplexed.
“Everything is better with pirates,” Raven said with a grin.
The drive back into Bronzeville took more than the twenty minutes Raven had expected. Several of the roads had suffered flooding in the night’s downpour and she had to find an alternate route to the old church or risk taking her father’s treasured Shelby into deep water. Eventually, however, the pair arrived at Tasker’s church. Little had changed during the night, though Raven noted that Tasker seemed to have called in a few bodyguards. An assortment of workmen was cutting lawns that didn’t need cutting or pretending to trim hedges already groomed and weeded. She nudged Levac and nodded at the nearest one, drawing his attention to the potential danger if things went south in a hurry.
He returned the nod and loosened his weapon in its holster.
Raven led the way up the walk and through the church’s old door, which had developed a loud creak after the night’s rain. She gritted her teeth at the nerve-jangling sound and continued into the gloom, her eyes searching the shadows for Tasker or any hint of danger. As before, he stepped out from his private room just as Raven reached the sanctuary.
“Good afternoon, Detective Storm,” he said, his loud voice echoing in the empty church. “Detective Levac, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person, I have read so much about you; please, come into my office where we can speak in privacy.”
Tasker ushered the two detectives into his back room. This also remained largely unchanged; the only addition was a pair of metal folding chairs had been brought in and placed facing Tasker’s throne. He motioned for the detectives to have a seat and dropped into the large chair, his hand absently stroking the top of one of the skulls mounted to the arm. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I understand this case is keeping you quite busy.”
“You said you had news for us,” Raven said, preferring to stand while Levac sat in one of the chairs. “We could hardly wait to hear what you had learned.”
“Yes, indeed I do,” Tasker said. “You recall I offered to interview a member of my flock, the one who requested I make the gris-gris totems?”
“Yes, that’s why I came to see you yesterday,” Raven replied, working hard to keep the impatience from her voice. “What did this person tell you? Do you have something for us?”
Tasker nodded and looked away for a moment.
Levac cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Sir? Any information you can provide may help us catch someone who’s killed at least twice."
Tasker waved Levac’s comment away. “Detective Levac, that is of little concern to me. People live and die every day; it’s part of the great chain of life. What bothers me is I didn’t see this myself. I do indeed believe this man could be responsible for the deaths you're investigating.”
“His name, Tasker!” Raven stepped forward. “Give me the man’s name!”
Tasker laughed at Raven’s impatience and leaned back in his chair, still stroking the skull beneath his fingers. “I’m getting to that, detective. I’m wondering, however, if this matter would be better resolved within my own house. I don’t like being used as an instrument of death.”
“It wouldn’t,” Levac said, glancing up at Raven. “That would make you guilty of obstruction and you’d also suffer the consequences of whatever punishment you levied against the suspect. You’re better off just giving us the name and letting the police handle the rest of the investigation.”
Tasker smiled and bowed his head slightly to Levac. “It’s clear you’re the less passionate member of your duo. But let me ask you, Detective Levac, how would you know who it is if I don’t tell you? Your charge of obstruction would hardly stick; it would be nothing more than a temporary nuisance.”
“Believe me, Tasker,” Raven interjected, her eyes blazing, “if you make me take you in, I’ll make sure you don’t see the light of day for at least three days, plus time for anything else I can dig up around here. I’m sure you have more than a few dead chickens in your closet. Tell us what you brought us here for or I go get a shovel!”
Tasker stared at Raven for a long moment. Raven met his gaze unwaveringly, letting her annoyance show in her face. Eventually Tasker said, “As you wish, detective. A few weeks ago, a member of my church asked me to create some gris-gris bags with the intent of causing illness
and making a couple he thought shouldn’t be together go their separate ways.”
“You aren’t telling me anything new,” Raven said. “Go on, please.”
“I spoke with this young man last night and I believe he may have had a greater hand in your case,” Tasker said. “He confirmed the people he wished to separate were Nathan King and Victoria Laveau. He was jealous of their relationship and wished to take the girl for himself. Based on some of the things he said, I believe he may be capable of hurting someone, possibly even murder.”
Levac nodded. “What is his name, Mr. Tasker?”
“Symone,” Tasker replied. “Brand Symone.”
“Cade Symone’s son?” Raven asked. “Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure, detective,” the bocor replied. “I spoke with him myself. He’s a practicing houngan in his own right, though he has much to learn. I created the gris-gris bags for him, but he may have done more than just make your victims ill. He is a dangerous man who needs to be stopped."
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Tasker,” Levac said. “We’ll be in touch.”
Levac stood to leave; however, Raven maintained eye contact with Tasker, still somewhat suspicious.
“Why the change of heart, Tasker?” she asked. “You could have given up that name last night.”
The bocor stood and waved the two detectives towards the door.
“I was not certain then,” he said. “I am now. I’ve told you what you wished to know and I have nothing more to say. Please excuse me, detectives.”
Not at all happy with being dismissed, but having no overt reason to stay, Raven allowed Levac to lead her out of the church and into the afternoon sun. She stopped on the sidewalk and watched the half-hearted antics of Tasker’s men for a moment, then turned to Levac. “Does this feel right to you?”
“Sure, what’s not right?” Levac asked. “Your contact just tossed us a bone to go after our only suspect with. We have a witness who can testify that Symone was trying to split our vics up using any means he could find. Sounds like a motive to me.”
Raven shook her head, but continued on toward the Shelby parked less than a block away. “It just isn’t sitting right. Yesterday, he refused to give up one of his own and was willing to go to jail to protect them. He changed his mind overnight and he’s now worried enough to have bodyguards outside? It makes me feel like I ate a can of spoiled tuna and washed it down with a cup of septic tank.”
Levac laughed and clapped Raven on the shoulder. “You’re just not used to things going smoothly. Looks like this time we get to put someone behind bars without a gunfight in a dark alley. And you owe me a beer.”
“I owe you a beer?” Raven looked at Levac over the roof of the car.
Levac grinned and leaned across the roof. “Yep, no pirates tried to make us walk the plank.”
“That’s hardly fair,” Raven said. “There were no zombies either.”
“Fine, you buy me a beer and I’ll buy you a tequila with lime.”
“Deal.”
VI
Evening fell, bringing with it another bout of rain, this time a light drizzle mixed with occasional bouts of hard sleet that made the roads and sidewalk slick. Raven watched it through the squad-room window, waiting for Brand Symone and his attorney to be brought to the second-floor interview room. She acknowledged Levac’s approach with a glance at his reflection in the window and smiled. “You got my tequila, Rupert?”
Levac raised the two cardboard cups he was holding and shook his head. “Nope, we’re still working. I nabbed us both some coffee instead."
Raven turned and accepted the cup. She popped the top and sipped at the warm brew, surprised to find it was full of sweetened vanilla hazelnut, one of her favorites. “Thank you, Levac,” she said, taking another sip.
“You’re welcome,” Levac replied before taking a long drought of his own beverage. “Any word on our suspect?”
Raven nodded and gestured towards the window. “I saw them bring our boy in about an hour ago. They dragged him into processing, so he should be in the interview room soon.”
“Should I bring a few phone books?” Levac asked jokingly, “or do you just use a rubber hose?”
“I find my winning personality and charm is enough to get my suspects to fold at the knees and tell me what I want to know,” Raven replied.
“I can hardly wait. I'm assuming you want me to sit this out?”
“It depends on how it goes,” Raven said with a shrug. “I usually do this part alone. If I need you, I’ll step out and call you.”
“Fair enough…” Levac trailed off as Raven’s desk phone rang.
Raven took two steps and stretched to scoop up the phone. “Storm."
After a moment, she put the phone back and gathered up her purse. “He’s ready for us.”
The interview room, once known as Interrogation, was on the second floor down the hall from the small homicide division’s office. A uniformed officer was waiting outside the door with Lieutenant Frost, who nodded as Raven and Levac approached.
“The kid’s attorney is already frothing at the mouth,” Frost said. “Screaming about wrongful prosecution and rights violations. Take it easy in there, okay?”
“He’s been mirandized?” Raven asked.
“Of course,” Frost replied. “Three times. He knows his rights and if he can’t grasp them, his attorney is well versed.”
“Who’s the lawyer?” Levac asked.
“Wall,” Frost replied.
Both Raven and Levac paused.
Wall was one of the most prominent criminal defense attorneys in the city. He was on the payroll of the upper echelon of the Russian Bratva and the Italian Mafia, and he never took small cases. Most of his clients never saw him, just one of his Armani-suited lackeys.
“What’s Wall doing defending a basic murder case like this one?” Raven asked.
“Shouldn’t he be defending some Mafioso or something?” Levac added.
Frost shrugged and tapped on the wall with his index finger. “I’ve no idea. He arrived before the black and white brought the kid in. Said the butler called him.”
Raven nodded and handed Levac her purse and Automag for safekeeping. “Crime of passion, my ass! This just got more interesting. See you on the other side.”
She nodded at the uniformed officer, who opened the door and allowed her to pass, locking it behind her while Frost and Levac joined the forensic technologist in the adjoining room.
The interview room was intentionally spartan, with white walls, a white-tiled floor complete with a drain left over from yesteryear, a small table, four chairs and the requisite two-way mirror on the back wall.
Seated at the table was Henry Wall, a large man with graying red hair, a red face, and heavy-lidded grey eyes that seemed to see everything. He lurked like a frog at the bottom of a pond, waiting for his next meal. Seated next to him was a much more handsome man with black hair, a well-trimmed goatee and mustache and clear blue eyes that were hooded and frightened. Both men were dressed in Brooks Brothers suits, but the younger man wore his much better than the older, less fastidious, and much heavier attorney.
“It’s about time you got here, Detective Storm,” Wall said. “I want my client released immediately and all charges dropped!”
“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Attorney Wall." Raven took a seat opposite the two men and opened the file she had held under her arm.
“Skip the pleasantries, Storm; when will Mr. Symone be released?” Wall growled.
“I can’t answer that just yet.” Raven then turned to the younger man and offered her hand.
“Mr. Symone, I’m Detective Raven Storm. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I stopped by to speak with you yesterday, but you were otherwise indisposed.”
The young man showed no sign of hearing Raven, ignoring the offered hand and instead staring at her right ear.
“Okay, then, have it your way." Raven withdrew her hand. “I assume the officers
who picked you up told you why you're here. We’re investigating the deaths of Nathan King and Victoria Laveau. What can you tell me about them?”
Brand opened his mouth to respond; however, Wall raised his hand and cut the younger man off. “My client has nothing to say. You don’t have anything to charge him with.”
Raven smiled humorlessly. “Oh, but I do. I have two dead bodies and a witness who’s stated that young Mr. Symone here was seeking to do both parties harm. I can at least hold him on suspicion based on the witness testimony.”
Wall snorted and waved away Raven’s argument. “My client hardly knew Nathan King and had no motive to do him any harm. As for the young tart, it was a fling, a girl he met at a club, nothing more, and certainly not worth causing her any harm. I again demand you release my client!"
“And I again reject your demand, Attorney Wall." Raven turned her attention back to the file. “Mr. Symone, I have a witness who confirms you argued with Mr. King about Victoria Laveau aboard a sloop named Witchcraft. I have another who states you and Victoria were having much more than a fling, to the point where you were seeing her on a regular, if not daily, basis and seemed jealous when she was seen with others during the course of her employment. I also believe I found your cologne in her apartment…it doesn’t look good for you.”
“It was a petty jealousy,” Wall said, again cutting off his client who balled his fist up in frustration. “In the end, Mr. Symone chose to give up his pursuit of Ms. Laveau and seek more worthy companionship. You have a circumstantial case at best, detective.”
Raven ignored Wall, instead focusing her attention solely on Brand. She narrowed her gaze on his and sniffed, taking in his scent and savoring all the subtle nuances. After a moment, she leaned forward, her hands almost touching his. “You’re nervous, Mr. Symone. You’re sweating, your eyes are wide and that hand you keep balling into a fist is trembling. Calm down and just tell me what you know.”
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