I didn’t like it. She was entitled to talk on the phone, but it had been twenty minutes. I paced some more, trying to occupy myself with the pieces to the puzzle.
Ek Balam, the Black Jaguar, had been the mythical lord of the city Thorpe had excavated. A jaguar figure of black jade had been excavated at one of the city’s temples. People were willing to kill for the jade figure. Why? I took down the last volume in the series. It was also by Thorpe, entitled Initial Excavations at Ek Balam, 1982–1987.
Inside the back cover was a fold-out map and I spread this before me on the coffee table. Each building was designated by a letter and I found Temple A in the central section of the site. I turned the map around, hoping some significant configuration of elements would leap out at me, but nothing happened. I refolded the map, placed it back in the book, and put the book back on the shelf.
I tried Sandy’s number again and this time I got it to ring. But the voice that answered wasn’t Sandy’s. It belonged to a man and I knew it from somewhere.
“Hello? Who’s this?” Something about the peremptory tone struck a chord of familiarity.
I hesitated, weighing my options.
“I said who is this?” the voice demanded again.
Finally, my concern for Sandy won out. “Mancuso,” I said. “What are you doing there?”
“Dunn? Is that you? Goddamn it, man, you’ve put your foot in it now.”
“Mancuso, damn it, where’s Sandy? What’s going on?”
“I was hoping you could tell us. We got a call about a hell of a racket going on here. Patrol officers found the place wrecked and blood everywhere.”
My breath went out and my legs started trembling. “And Sandy?”
“Your friend’s disappeared.”
18
Dread swept over me. But at least there was a chance she was still alive …
“Micah, are you there?”
“I’m here,” I croaked. “Are you tapping the phone, Mancuso?”
“How? I’ve only been here ten minutes. The bastards knocked the receiver off the hook and the patrol officers didn’t put it back until we cleared it.” When he spoke again his voice had softened. “Look, why don’t you come in and we can talk this over.”
“Sure. In one of the interrogation rooms.”
The policeman snorted. “Shit, Micah, I never thought you did anything.”
“That wouldn’t keep you from locking me up. You’re too good a cop not to.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s right. Well, look, at least tell us if you know who’s got her.”
I hesitated and then made my decision. “I know who’s got her,” I said, “but I can’t tell you who it is. I can’t take a chance of having you guys come in like Eliot Ness. He doesn’t want Sandy. He wants something I have. If I give it to him, he’ll give her back, because he doesn’t want trouble any more than the next guy.”
“Well, for Christ’s sake, man, work with us. We can set up a drop point, stake it out, monitor the exchange, and …”
“And what? Arrest me when it’s over? It might just about be worth it, but there’s still the killer of Gordon Leeds and Claude St. Romaine out there somewhere.”
I heard a sigh. “Micah, damn it …”
“Later, Mancuso.” I hung up the phone, feeling weak. There was no way around it. I had told him the truth: I would have to give up the jade.
I looked out the window. Good. Katherine’s car was at the curb, meaning she’d walked the two blocks to the streetcar line. I called her at the Institute. “Do you have a couple of dollars squirreled away somewhere?”
“On the shelf in the closet, in my old handbag. Why? What’s happening?”
“Just trying to amuse myself,” I said wryly.
“Obviously. Well, make yourself at home. By the way, Astrid will be over in a little while.”
“Good.”
I disconnected and went upstairs. The money was where she’d said it would be. I found her spare car key on the keyboard in the kitchen, where I’d seen it earlier. I drove to a store on Claiborne that had what I needed. I was back inside of half an hour and set up in the kitchen. It took me another hour or so, but when I was finished I was satisfied.
I cleaned up the mess and went to the telephone. I found Ordaz’s number in the business pages and dialed.
At first the woman said he wasn’t in. I told her my name and said he was expecting my call. The line clicked and I got thirty seconds of elevator music, and then I heard his voice, fruity and satisfied, as if he was savoring one of life’s rare moments.
“Mr. Dunn. How nice to hear from you again. Why is it I had a feeling you would call?”
“Where is she, Ordaz?”
“She? Who, Mr. Dunn? Am I supposed to have something that belongs to you? Now, that would be real irony.”
“Sandy. You took her. I want her back.”
“Mr. Dunn, you confuse me. I’m an immigration attorney. I don’t get involved in seizures. Are we talking about a boat?”
I bit my tongue. Everything hinged on what I would say in the next few seconds: “I’m willing to deal,” I said.
There was an amused chuckle. “Deal? Deal what?”
“The item you wanted. I have it. I’ll give it to you for Sandy.”
“Barter? This item for the item you say I possess?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s an intriguing concept, Mr. Dunn. But I wonder if the two items are of equivalent value. Still, the concept has potential.”
“Tonight. I’ll give it to you tonight. Bring Sandy or there’s no deal.”
“Tonight?”
“At the Harmony Street wharf, at nine o’clock. You, personally. I don’t deal with Mutt and Jeff.”
“But—”
I hung up. I hoped I’d hooked him. It was all a big risk, but with Sandy’s life at stake, there wasn’t much choice.
I turned from the phone in time to hear the door open and froze. But it was Katherine, taking off her sunglasses and dropping her handbag onto the couch.
“You look guilty,” she said. “What did I catch you doing?” She wrinkled her nose. “It smells funny in here.”
I looked up at the wall clock. “You’re early. It’s only just after eleven.”
“One of the benefits of running the operation these days. I get to leave when I like.” She went to the refrigerator and took out a Coke. “Besides, there’s only so much I can take. I got a frantic call from Jason Cobbett just now. He’s threatening to cancel the exhibition because of all the publicity. He’s already tried Gregory and found him guilty.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him it was all part of a Mayan curse and that if he had any brains at all, he could get enough PR mileage out of it to make this the new King Tut. I had him going for a second.” She took a long swallow. I thought her face looked tired and I wondered how mine must look to her. “Damn it, Micah, I’m getting old. I can only take this for so long.”
“I know. Did you talk to the Bancroft girl?”
She nodded. “I don’t think she’s ever seen the jade. At least, she wasn’t sure about the glyphs.” She walked back out into the living room and removed a cassette recorder from her purse. “Here: Gregory uses this sometimes for making notes. I recorded our interview. You can hear her yourself.”
I pushed the buttons and turned up the volume. There was a second of silence and then I heard Katherine asking the other woman to come in. They exchanged pleasantries. Papers rustled and Katherine asked her to come over into the light.
“This is something Dr. Thorpe has been working on,” I heard Katherine say. “I thought if I could get an interpretation of these glyphs, it might move the work along.”
Silence, then the Bancroft girl’s voice: “I’m not sure. I recognize some of them, but it’s not my field.”
“Which ones do you recognize?” Katherine asked.
Hesitation. Then: “The first one looks like ti, the locative. It
means ‘at’ or ‘at the place of.’ Then this next one is Chak, I think. Yes, I’m pretty sure.”
“The rain god?”
“Or the color red. Now this one I don’t know, or this one, either, but this one looks like Yaaxkin. Yaaxkin, of course, is the dry month, when the fields are burned.”
“It doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“No. But, like I said, it isn’t my field. Sometimes I run into glyphs painted on ceramics, but … I’m sorry.”
Her voice sounded steadier than I remembered, as if she were fully in control.
Katherine’s voice spoke then: “Well, I appreciate your help. I’ll save it for Dr. Thorpe.”
“Is he being released? There’s a rumor …”
“I hope so, Astrid.”
“It’s all a big mess, isn’t it? I mean, Gordon being killed and all. Why? All any of us wanted was to do archaeology.”
“I know.” When Katherine spoke again her voice had become motherly. “I’m sure it will be all right.”
“Yes. So how’s Scotty?”
“He’s fine. I’ll tell him you asked.”
The sound went off and I pushed the STOP button.
“You see?” Katherine asked, one arm folded across her. “It doesn’t make sense. “The place of Red Something-Something-Dry Season.”
I frowned. She was right. “Maybe the words have some hidden meaning,” I suggested.
“Quite possibly. But I don’t know what it would be. Christ, I wish Gregory were here. He’d know.”
Yes, I thought, he probably would.
“Well, it’ll be over soon,” I told her. “I’m going to give Ordaz the jade.”
“What?” She brought her arm down quickly, her face showing the shock.
“I have to, Katherine. I called Sandy’s apartment and got Lieutenant Mancuso. They’ve kidnapped her. The only way to get her back is to exchange her for the hacha.”
Katherine exhaled. “But how will you prove you aren’t guilty? And how will they ever find out who is?”
“Well,” I said with a wry smile, “I guess the answer to that lies in how much I can do between now and nine o’clock.”
She shook her head. “But where will you start?”
I told her about my conversation with O’Rourke. “I think,” I summed up, “that I’ll start with Cora Thorpe.”
I drove past twice and didn’t see any stakeout. Her car was there, though, so I stopped a block away and walked up. The noon heat was enervating and I blinked from the glare, feeling like a convict who had just been let out of a dungeon. It was too close a simile for me to entertain without wincing and I was glad when I came to the house with the camphor trees shading the walkway.
This time I didn’t see Mr. Beasley, but as I went through the iron-grille gate I caught a flicker of movement at his window curtain. I wondered how long it would take him to call the police.
Cora Thorpe opened the door on the third knock. She was wearing a pantsuit that showed her curves to best effect, with a flowered blouse that did little to conceal her cleavage. When she saw me, her features went from eagerness to disappointment.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, which I thought was a curious understatement. I shoved past her into the living room and closed the door behind me.
“You’re right,” I told her. “The trouble is, I am. And I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
“I think I’ll call the police.”
“Go ahead. As soon as I leave. If you try it before, I’ll yank the damned thing out of the wall.”
She eyed me and I could see she was trying to calculate her odds.
“I wouldn’t,” I said. “Even with one arm I could wring your neck. And I don’t think many people would blame me.”
She folded her arms, hip outthrust. “So what do you want?” she pouted.
“I told you: I want the answers.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. And the sooner you give them, the safer you’ll be. Tell me what kind of game you’re playing.”
“Game?”
“You’re not the kind of woman who’s happy waiting for a husband twenty years older to come home and talk about what inscription he’s deciphered today. But Claude’s dead because of what he knew and you can end up the same way. The more people you tell, the safer you are.”
“Nobody’s going to kill me,” she said. “Now go away.”
“I’ll go when you’ve told me what I want to know,” I said. “What is it? Thrills? Revenge? Blackmail?”
“Blackmail?” she asked, trying to laugh. “You’re crazy.”
So I was right.
“Believe me, whoever you’ve got the hooks into will kill again,” I told her, “and the next time the police come it will be to look down at your body. The next time Gregory sees you will be in one of the lockers at Charity.” I shook my head. “It isn’t a pretty sight, Cora. No perfume for you down there. Just alcohol and formaldehyde. And it’s cold.Too cold. Everybody wears a jacket. But you won’t be wearing anything. Just a sheet. A sheet and a toe tag. And you know the worst thing? You won’t be the wife of the director anymore. You’ll just be a number. A piece of the past. They’ll do an autopsy like you’re a side of beef—”
“Stop it!” she shrieked, her hands to her ears. “For God’s sake, stop it. I’ll tell you what you want to know!”
I was just pulling away when the police car arrived. I turned down Coliseum and was back at Katherine’s inside of two minutes. I opened the door and stopped short. She and Thorpe were facing each other in the center of the living room, the stress evident in their postures.
“You,” Thorpe said.
“It seems to be my day to surprise people,” I said, shutting the door.
“Micah …” Katherine began.
“I take it they let you go,” I said. “Or did you decide to imitate me?”
“I posted bond,” Thorpe sniffed. “My new attorney arranged it. A formality. I understand the charges are going to be dropped, thank God.”
“Good for you, not so good for me,” I said. “Is this my cue to go down and throw myself on the mercy of the court?”
“If you’re smart you will,” he said.
“Gregory,” Katherine broke in. “Micah’s as much a victim as you are. He’s the only hope any of us have to clear this thing up.”
“Then why doesn’t he call the police and tell them?” Thorpe asked.
“In due time,” I said. “Right now there’s a matter of finding the real killer and saving another life.”
“You don’t seem to have done so well up to now,” he pronounced. “And your lawyer friend didn’t do much for me.” He moved away from Katherine, toward the kitchen. “I shouldn’t even be standing here talking to you. I ought to call the police.”
I sighed. “You do and I’ll break your jaw.”
Thorpe blinked and I could tell he wasn’t used to being threatened.
Katherine stepped between us. “Gregory, Micah deserves your help. He’s done everything he could to clear you.”
“Like following my wife,” Thorpe choked out and all at once I saw what was making him so angry. Without me he would never have had to face the ugly fact of Cora’s infidelity.
“If somebody had followed her before, none of this would have happened,” I shot back. “Or did you think she was riding around by herself those nights she got bored with the domestic fireside?”
His face went ashen and Katherine looked from one of us to the other, as if trying to decide who would erupt first.
“You keep my wife out of this,” Thorpe whispered between gritted teeth. “She had nothing to do with any killings and I won’t have her name mentioned.”
I thought of the little scheme she had concocted. I didn’t feel very sorry for either of them right now.
“Is that why you came here before you went home?” I asked.
Thorpe’s mouth worked wordlessly. I nodd
ed to the paper bag of belongings beside the door. “Parish Prison Suitcase,” I said. “Most people don’t carry them around any longer than they have to.”
“I was just stopping off to notify Katherine. It was business, that’s all.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I said. “It’s none of my affair.” I looked over at Katherine and saw her blush. “Right now, all I care about is getting my friend out of danger and putting the killer in jail. And maybe getting myself off the hook.”
“Well, you can do all that,” Thorpe said. “Just do it somewhere else.”
I took a step toward him and the only thing that saved him was the door opening behind me. I wheeled around.
Scott was standing in the entrance, staring at us.
“Come on in, Scott,” I told him. “The professor was just getting ready to throw me out.”
The boy looked over at Thorpe and snickered.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not going. There’s too much to do here.”
“Katherine,” Thorpe said, turning to her, “this is your home. Do you really want this man to stay here? Do you want him around your son?”
“Scott’s a little old to be corrupted by Micah,” Katherine said gently. “And, to answer your question, I do want Micah to stay.” Thorpe went red and started to shove past her but she reached out with a hand to stay him. “And I want you to stay, too. I need you both.”
Thorpe shifted his posture, somewhat mollified.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Scott put in then, “but I think Mom’s right. Micah could’ve killed me a couple of days ago, but he didn’t.”
Katherine gave him a surprised, grateful look. “Support comes from unexpected quarters,” she said fondly.
“Looks like the vote’s been taken,” I said. “Now let’s try to make sense of this.” I walked to the other side of the coffee table, so that I was facing Thorpe, with the table between us. “The first thing, Professor Thorpe, is for you to realize that Artemio was stealing from you.”
“What?” Thorpe shook his head. “That’s totally ridiculous. I saved Artemio. I gave him a chance. Why, before I hired him he was just a campesino, a villager. I took him in, worked with him, made him a field boss over the other workers, and brought him to the United States. I even stood for his last child at baptism.” He gave a strangled little laugh. “The man’s my compadre. That’s a sacred relationship.”
The Maya Stone Murders Page 17
