by Dana Donovan
“We weren’t trying to sneak up on you or anything. Detective Rodriquez felt —”
“Afraid?”
“No. He felt that you wouldn’t appreciate it if he dripped oil on your driveway.”
“Sure, well, you can tell him not to worry. He doesn’t bite.”
“Who?”
She pointed at the gnome out on the front lawn. “Jerome.”
“Oh,” I said, and that was enough of that. “Look, Lilith, do you mind if I have another word with you?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed audibly. “Detective, I’ve already told you that tonight is not good for—”
“I’ll make it quick. I promise. Please. It’s very important.”
Judging from her expression, I expected she would slam the door in my face without further discussion. Instead, she inhaled deeply, and I saw her lips clearly counting to three as she slowly exhaled, though she did not speak the words. When she finished counting, her expression softened considerably. She opened the door fully and stepped aside. “Fine. Come in.”
Knowing the procedure, I walked straight to the kitchen table and sat down. She closed the door and followed, taking a seat directly across from me. I watched her as she tilted the candle, permitting a small puddle of wax to collect on the tabletop. She then planted the butt end of the candle into the wax, allowing it to stand upright.
“Okay, Detective, what is it that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the obsidian charm. “First off, let me give this back to you, because it either doesn’t work, or it works too well. And secondly, I need to ask you this straight out: is there anything you’re not telling me about the deaths of Karen Webber or the other three women whose deaths I’m investigating?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Lilith, but I have to know.”
“All right. I see where you’re coming from. Frankly, Detective, I thought we moved past our mistrust issues a long time ago. Apparently, I was wrong.” She reached across the table and snatched the obsidian from my hand. “So, you want the truth?”
“Lilith, don’t play it like that.”
“I’m not playing anything. You asked for it.”
“I asked because I need to know.”
“And you shall.” She got up from the table and walked to the kitchen sink. Above it, a strange looking pincushion doll dangled from a string. I had seen it there before, though with all the unusual knick-knacks laying about the house, I hardly paid it any notice. Appropriate for Lilith, I suppose, the doll looked like your stereotypical old hag witch, sporting a pointy black hat, a long crooked nose and riding a straggly-ended broomstick. She grabbed the witch and snapped it off its string with a clean jerk. She presented it to me by thrusting it nearly in my face. “Thisss,” she said, over-accentuating the word so that it sounded like a hissing snake, “is my kitchen witch. And thisss,” she held the obsidian stone up, “is the eye of the witch.” She planted the stone on the witch’s face where its eye should have been, but wasn’t. “It’s her eye.”
“I see that,” I said.
“It fell off one day. I kept meaning to glue it back on, but I just never got around to it.”
“So, what? You cast a spell on it and stuck it in a box for a rainy day?”
“No. I just stuck it in a box.”
I laughed, partly at the insanity of the charade and partly because…well, because I really did find it funny. “You set me up. Was that to throw me off track?”
“What? No! I gave you the obsidian because I wanted you to go away, number one, and because I believed it might really help you.”
“How so, if you never cast a spell on it?”
She pitched the kitchen witch over her shoulder and into the sink without looking. “Detective, you of all people should know the power that the mind commands if one simply believes. You came to me because you lacked confidence. You let your self-doubt stand in the way of sound decision making. All I did was try to un-cloud your mind so that you could make reasonable judgments. And from what I saw, it was working when you left here. What happened?”
“Spinelli happened,” I said, “and then Carlos added to it by suggesting that you may have had something to do with the timing of Karen’s death, and of the other women, as well.”
“Carlos?”
“Yes.”
“And Spinelli?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head and took a seat across from me again. “My, my,” she said softly, and I suddenly felt very small. “Man, you’ve got it bad. I never thought I would see the day when the likes of Carlos and Spinelli….” She shook her head again, but trailed off without finishing the thought.
“Lilith, it’s not like that. They’re not leading me through this investigation. Based on the information that has presented itself, I would have come here regardless.”
“And what, accuse me of murder? Detective, I told you this evening how I planned on atoning for my past misdeeds. What would I gain from killing little Miss Guatemala?”
“She’s Honduran. And I don’t know what you or anyone else might gain from killing her. But I have four dead women on my hands and the timing of their deaths suggests that not only might Leona die next, but that her death will likely happen sometime before this night is through.”
She slammed her hand down on the table. “Then why are you wasting your time here?”
I slammed my hand down next to hers, only much harder, causing the candle to sputter hot wax onto both of us. “Because of what you told me!” I answered, nearly shouting. “Why tonight, Lilith?”
“Why what?”
“This!” I swung my arm in a broad sweep across the room. “These candles, your robe, that bizarre incense you’re burning, why? You told me you wanted that witch’s ladder because you created it a year and a day ago.”
“Yes, so?”
“So, why a day? Why not a year and two days ago, or a year and a week, or a month ago?”
“I don’t know!” Now she was yelling, too. “I don’t make the rules! I only follow them. The coven decrees it and tradition demands it! I have but one opportunity in this cycle to declare myself in the eyes of the ancestral assembly, and tonight, a year and a day from the spell on that witch’s ladder, with or without it, I shall atone, submit and accept the covenants of the order.”
“And you don’t see it. Do you?”
“See what?”
“An hour in a room with all the parties concerned, that’s it, just one hour, and you might tell me what I need to know. But will you? No. Your self-dedication is testimony to your selfishness. You profess your religion as holistic with nature and free of ambivalence, one omni-dimensional spiritless bounty of returning energy entwined in the subconscious, beckoning the will to release it. But you know what, Lilith? We don’t all prescribe to that theology. For some of us it’s important, regardless of eventuality, to believe in some sort of continuance when we die, and not just that our energy will evaporate into a collective reservoir of kinetic athleticism awaiting recycle in the vacuum of space.”
“Are you done, Detective?”
“No!” I leaned back in my chair, determined to add just one more point, but the momentum escaped me. “Yes. I’m done.”
“Very well.”
She stood, and for a moment I thought she might let me have it with both barrels, a fork-tongued caustic rebuttal complete with sparks and smoke and maybe even some ground tremors thrown in for good show. She had done that before to me. Only this time, her response came carefully measured. I suspect it’s because of all the lit candles in the house. A nasty three-alarm fire would probably have put the squelch on any ceremony she planned, had that happened. Instead, she carried herself to the door on a thread of air, opened it with a wish and pointed the way so that I might not get lost while leaving. I got up from my seat, thrilled that I still had two human legs on which to stand, skirted passed her, smiling all the while, and tiptoed o
ut onto the steps. I turned to say goodbye, when the door slammed on my face, the doorknocker bouncing up and hitting my nose for added insult.
As I hoofed it back to the car, minding Jerome from the corner of my eye, Spinelli rang me. Carlos also heard the ring, as well as my side of the brief conversation.
“Yeah, Spinelli, what have you got? Really? Ah-huh. Interesting. Nice work, kid. Thanks.”
I climbed into the car to find Carlos practically in my face. “What did he say? Did he find something else? What’s so interesting?”
“Easy, Carlos! Down, boy.” I pushed against his chest until he settled back in behind the wheel. “Yes, he found something, all right: on that flash drive. And you’re not going to believe it, but I think Karen was just hours away from busting this case wide open herself.”
“Really? What did he find?”
“He found a list of names identifying all of the attendees from Doctor Lowell’s workshop that first year.”
“Is that so significant?”
“It is.”
“Why?”
“Because, on that list is the last name of someone we have been unable to pin down since this investigation began.”
“Stinky Pete?”
“No. Crazy Eddy.”
“Oh? So, what is his real name?”
I smiled at him teasingly. “You’re not going to believe this. It’s….”
Thirteen
The first thing we did after leaving Lilith’s was go back to Ricardo Rivera’s place. We phoned ahead requesting that he have the gate opened for us when we arrived. Naturally, he resisted, but when I told him we had information concerning his brother, and that his failure to cooperate could endanger his life, he reluctantly obliged.
Carlos pulled up under the canopy at the front entry where Rivera stood waiting with his phone in hand. We barely stepped from the car when he approached us, clearly agitated and probably a little drunk.
“I’m telling you now, Detective,” he warned, waving his phone in broad sweeps. “I have Joseph Petruzelli on speed dial, and he knows people in high places. If you continue to harass me like this—”
“Calm down, Rivera. Nobody’s harassing you. All we want is some quick answers and then we’ll get out of your hair once and for all.”
“You said over the phone you have some information concerning Benjamin.”
“We do, and we’ll share that with you if you cooperate.”
“And then you’ll leave here once and for all?”
“Yes, but first we need to know something from you.”
He dropped his hands and relaxed his guard. “What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me about Eddy.”
“Eddy who?”
“I think you know. He attended Doctor Lowell’s workshops with Benjamin.”
“Oh, that Eddy.”
“Yes, that Eddy. Tell me, why do you keep his secret? What does he have on you that keeps you from telling even your own brother who he is?”
“Detective, I don’t see what all this has to do with your investigation.”
“You don’t. Then let me ask you about Mallory Edwards. Yesterday at your office, you let us know how much you detest her, how you hate the fact that she has a thing for Benjamin. Why is that?”
“It’s personal.”
“Is it? Or is it because Crazy Edward Mallory and Mallory Edwards are really one and the same?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think I do. Benjamin attended Doctor Lowell’s workshops with Edward Mallory. Since then, Edward has undergone a sex change operation and legally changed his name to Mallory Edwards? Isn’t that true?”
“I don’t know that.”
“Yes you do, because you conducted the mandatory background search on Mallory when Petruzelli hired her. Didn’t you?”
Rivera kicked at the gravel by his feet. “All right. So what? I knew about Mallory. Fine, and that’s why I hate her. I think she’s a disgrace to humanity, a disgusting, vile and repugnant excuse for a living being. I don’t like her. I don’t like what she stands for and I especially don’t like it that she has a thing for my little brother.”
“So, why don’t you tell your brother who she is?”
“Because he wouldn’t understand it, Detective. He needs sheltering from the real world.”
“Then why don’t you do something to get Mallory fired from Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli? You have all the clout you need to make it happen. Unless….” I held my finger up to accentuate the pause.
“Unless what?”
“Oh, I see now. Carlos, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Carlos smiled slyly. “Yeah, Tony. I see. Ricardo and Mallory must have their own little thing going on.”
Rivera confronted Carlos, breasting him toe-to-toe. “That’s a lie! How dare you?”
“Easy,” I said, pushing Rivera back. “You don’t want to get Carlos angry. Trust me.”
“Then tell him to take it back. The only thing Mallory and I have going between us is a mutual hatred for each other.”
“All right. Carlos takes it back.”
“I didn’t hear him say it.”
“He’s the quiet type. Cut him some slack. In the meantime, why don’t you tell us about Benjamin’s money?”
That got his attention. Rivera stepped back and looked at me as though I had just sucker punched him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Benjamin’s inheritance. You forged documents relating to your father’s will, and then you changed Benjamin’s name as the sole beneficiary to your own.”
“That’s absurd!”
“No, it only sounds absurd if no one else knows about it, which no one does. Oh, but wait. Hey, maybe that’s why you don’t try having Mallory Edwards fired. Maybe Mallory knows because the only person in the world you told was Bridget Dean, and she went and told Mallory.”
“You’re crazy,” said Rivera, “as crazy as that transgender pervert.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I take that as a compliment. Seeing that Mallory is crazy enough to keep her job and extort a healthy contribution from you in the process.” I turned to Carlos and said, “Don’t you think so, Carlos? Isn’t that a compliment?”
“That it is,” he said. “Because that Mallory, she’s crazy like a fox.”
I laughed. “Yes, like a fox, or maybe a wolf. After all, she’s just a dog in sheep’s clothing. What else would you call someone who knows a secret about her boss and uses that knowledge for personal gain?”
“A blackmailer?” Carlos offered.
“Yes. That’s a good one.”
“Look, Marcella. You can never prove anything regarding my father’s will, and neither can Mallory. But…” he softened his aggression. “You’re right about one thing. I don’t get her fired because I don’t want her telling Benny something else that she’s found out. He gets confused easily, and I don’t want his feelings getting hurt.”
“That’s understandable,” I said. “But why don’t you tell us the truth. What’s she got on you?”
He looked down at the ground and kicked at the gravel some more. “All right, it’s like this. Benny is not my brother. He’s my son.”
“Oh?”
“I was sixteen, in high school and wild as a boar. I had a girlfriend and we liked to party and drink and…well, you know drill. Anyway, the girl got pregnant and had twins. I thought our lives were ruined. But my father stepped in and agreed to help us. He said he would raise the boys if we both finished school and went on to college, which we did. We both went on to college and studied law and we both became lawyers.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Bridget Dean is Benny’s mother.”
He nodded. “Yes, and she’s wanted nothing to do with him since the day he was born. All she’s ever wanted in life was money and power.”
“And you resented t
hat.”
“Of course!”
“Enough to kill her?”
“No! Absolutely not! I didn’t kill her. She was my son’s mother, for Christ’s sake.”
“Is that why you got so defensive when Carlos asked you if she aborted your child?”
“What do you think? But in a way, she has, hasn’t she?”
Carlos and I shared a glance of apathy. “How does Mallory fit into all of this?”
“You mean, Ed, the pervert? He went to Doctor Lowell’s class for psychics, along with Benny, Ana, Karen and the whole lot.”
“And Bridget, too.”
“Yes, Bridget, too. She’s the one that got Benny into the classes. I believe she may have even slept with the good doctor to make it happen.”
“So, you knew about the ties everyone had to Lowell and the workshops all along?”
“Of course.”
“You know how that will look to a jury.”
“Forget it, Marcella. A jury will never hear it.”
“We’ll see.”
I turned to Carlos again to see if he was taking any notes on our conversation, and was glad to see he was. I came back to Rivera and asked, “If Bridget didn’t want anything to do with Benny, then why did she want him to attend the workshops with her?”
He laughed. “To piss me off, why else? She knew I didn’t like the idea one bit. But you see, at the time, she still stood in the good graces of my father. As far as he was concerned, she was the responsible one, not me.”
“So, what about Eddy? You still haven’t explained why you’re beholding to him.”
“I’ll tell you. Now, keep in mind that Benny was just a kid, like eleven or twelve maybe. Mallory wasn’t there a month when he touched Benny in an inappropriate manner. These days there’d be a Spanish inquisition over the matter, but back then the simplest thing to do was to remove Benny from class, declaring that he had no special attributes or paranormal abilities and sweep everything under the rug.”
“You’re saying he made a sexual advance towards Benny?”
“Detective, Edward Mallory was crazy about Benny. We just didn’t know how badly until after he left town and someone found a notepad full of love letters he wrote to him, letters he’d written, but never sent.”
