Polterheist: An Esther Diamond Novel

by Laura Resnick

  “I’m guessing you might not be home for Christmas?” I said.

  “I won’t be home for Christmas anyhow,” he replied. “I’m scheduled for a ten-hour shift that day.”

  “Who did you piss off?”

  Lopez smiled and shook his head. “I’m single and don’t have kids. That pretty much makes Christmas Day my shift, along with any Jewish cops on the squad.”

  “Oh, I see.” He may not have a wife and children, but I knew his parents still lived in Nyack, a suburb across the Hudson River, where Lopez had grown up. They probably thought his living so close to them, here in the city, meant they’d get to see their youngest son on holidays. “Are your parents disappointed?”

  “They’re used to it by now. It’s been this way most years since I joined the force. I always go out to their place right after I get off work, so I’m there for Christmas night. That’s when we have dinner and exchange gifts.”

  “You go out to Nyack after a ten hour shift?”

  “It’s better than hearing the recriminations if I don’t go,” he said with a wry smile. “Anyhow, I like to go home at Christmas. I don’t mind the trip.”

  I knew that his family was close, so that didn’t surprise me.

  There was a long moment of companionable silence, and I realized, not for the first time, how much I missed him.

  But I didn’t seem to be good for him. And, more to the point, I had nearly gotten him killed at least twice. Maybe three times, depending on how you looked at things. In any event, there was not going to be another time.

  “Would he be lying in agonized paralysis awaiting his death now if not for you?”

  I drew in a sharp breath when my imagination replayed those memories, sending a familiar and unwelcome chill through me.

  Get out of my head, you murdering bitch, I thought.

  “Are you all right?” Lopez asked me, noticing my sudden shift of mood.

  “Huh? Oh. Um, tired, I guess.” I glanced at the clock. “I think I’ll hang up my pointy ears for the night and go.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want a lift home?” he asked, standing up. “Because I can easily—”

  “No. I could use some air. The walk to the subway will do me good.” That statement had the merit of being true.

  Thinking of another bitch who had rattled me tonight, I said to Lopez as we left Miles’ office, “And thanks for, you know, helping me out with Elspeth. She . . . she kind of gives me the creeps. And not just because she’s one of the crazy people who made my life so needlessly interesting during The Vampyre.”

  Lopez grunted in agreement. “Meeting a girl like her almost makes me scared of having kids. I mean, what if they turn out like her?”

  “Is your mother still nagging you for grandchildren?” I asked, guessing what had put the thought of having kids in Lopez’s mind.

  “Oh, only every time she gets the chance. It’s become a mania with her. Especially since Tim and Michael are sticking to their stories. Those bastards.”

  I knew that he had two brothers, each of whom had invented a pretext to shut their parents up about grandkids. One had recently decided to claim he was gay, and the other said he was contemplating the priesthood. These lies struck me as short-term thinking, destined to be unmasked over time; but apparently they were holding up so far. Which left Lopez to bear all the parental pressure alone on this front.

  “But I have to admit,” I said, “meeting Elspeth’s father makes me appreciate my own dad.” I wasn’t close to my father, but he was an okay guy. We didn’t really connect, but I knew he meant well. “Actually, meeting the whole Fenster family makes me glad to have the family I’ve got—which doesn’t happen that often. I might even call Wisconsin when I get home and say hello to my parents.”

  Probably I’d come to my senses and do no such thing; conversation with my mother usually makes me so tense I can’t relax for hours afterwards. But it was rather nice to feel a nostalgic twinge of missing my family. It was a rare event, and rather pleasant.

  I smiled as I added to Lopez, “Or maybe the sentimentality of your gentile season of love and joy is just getting to me this year.”

  “It must be the Christmas spirit at Fenster’s,” he said dryly. “Oh! By the way, Happy belated Hanukkah, Esther.”

  “Thank you.” It had been over for a week.

  “Did you do anything special for it?”

  “I was working here the whole time. I sang Hanukkah songs for the crowds, but I only know three. Well, two and a half, really. So it got a little monotonous.”

  “Oh. I’m guessing you have to know more Christmas songs than that for this job?”

  “Yes. Luckily, I do know a lot of those. I went to public schools, and I sang in the choir every year.” I shrugged. “And it would be just churlish to try to pretend that Christmas doesn’t have lots of great music, after all. I like Christmas carols.”

  “Do you do anything for Christmas?” he asked curiously.

  “Well, given the hours I’ve been working lately, I think this year I’ll probably just sleep all day. But I usually follow the Diamond family tradition of watching some movies and then getting Chinese food.” I added, “Christmas is kind of a bond between Jews and Chinese for that reason.”

  “Well, at least you’ll eat better than I will,” he said with a grin. “I love my mom, but she’s not much of a cook, to be honest.”

  “And, of course, eating Chinese food on Christmas day also keeps me in touch with the theme of most Jewish holidays, which is: ‘They tried to kill us, but they failed, so let’s eat.’ Except for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when it’s: ‘Let’s celebrate being Jewish by fasting.’ You missed a lot of fun by being raised Catholic.”

  “Obviously.” He walked beside me down the hall toward the ladies locker room as he asked, “So when you were growing up . . . No Santa, no tree, no presents?”

  “No Santa or tree, certainly. I don’t think my father would care either way, but my mother would probably burn down the house rather than let Christian symbolism in the door. Jewish identity is very important to her.” I added, “But my parents understood that being Jewish children at Christmas could be a strain, so we did get presents. Mom called them ‘holiday gifts for good behavior,’ but since my sister and I were getting presents, we went along with that.”

  We paused outside the locker room.

  “I guess this is your stop,” Lopez said.

  “Yes. Um, I . . .” I tried to think of what exactly I wanted to say in farewell. Although he had been the one to break up with me, I was the one who later decided we should stay apart when he seemed to be thinking maybe we should try again. And since memories of nearly getting him killed haunted me, I was still inclined to stick with that decision. So I definitely didn’t want to say something that might lead him on. But I also wanted him to know . . . “It’s good to see you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, since I’ll be a fixture around here for the time being,” he said. “Investigating shipping warehouses, abandoned Fenster trucks, and hijacking sites is chilly at this time of year, so I thought being assigned to investigate here at the store meant I was pulling the lucky straw. But that was before I met the Fenster family.”

  “Armed robbers would probably be easier to work with,” I agreed.

  We said goodnight, and I went into the ladies locker room to change into my street clothes and get my purse. Then I realized I still hadn’t clocked out. So I went into the break room to do that.

  An older man in Fenster maintenance coveralls was hovering near the coffee machine in there, standing with his back to me as I entered the room. He was average height and very stocky, and the short hair under his duckbill cap was nearly white.

  I walked over to the punch clock on the wall and reached for my employee card. The man turned his head to look at me. Then, moving swiftly, he seized me by the shoulders, startling me.

  “Finally!” he said. “I been waiting for you.”

 
I found myself staring into the face of a notorious Gambello hit man.

  10

  “Lucky?” I said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, you know, at Christmas, everyone comes to Fenster’s,” he said with elaborate casualness.

  “Huh?”

  “What do you think I’m doing here?” Now he was exasperated.

  “Um, Christmas shopping?” I guessed in confusion.

  “You mean you don’t know about the hijackings we’re being accused of?” he said. “Where have you been? It’s all over the news!”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And OCCB sure ain’t hovering around this place because they suspect Santa of loan-sharking.”

  “No, but—”

  “With the cops snooping all over our business, who’s going to catch the bozos who are actually pulling these heists and getting away with the swag while everyone’s busy casting unfair aspirins on the family?”

  “Aspersions,” I said. “You cast aspersions, not—Never mind. What family do you mean? The Gambellos?”

  “What other family would I mean?”

  I took a steadying breath. “Wait. Back up a step.”

  He did so.

  “No, I meant . . .” I cleared my throat. “Let me see if I have understood you correctly.”

  “We ain’t got time for that!”

  “We’ll have to make time for that.”

  “No, we gotta get out of here before I’m recognized. I just been waiting for you.” He added accusingly, “And you sure took your sweet time! What the hell were you and Detective Lopez doing? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. None of my business.”

  “Wait!” I said as he grabbed my arm and tried to drag me toward the door. “I have to clock out.”

  Lucky hovered impatiently while I did so, then pulled his cap low as he led the way into the hall after checking to make sure the coast was clear. Then we descended to the ground floor via the stairs, at my insistence, rather than taking the elevator. At the bottom of the stairs, with no one else around, Lucky unzipped the coveralls and stripped them off, revealing winter clothing underneath.

  “Ah, no wonder you looked so stocky,” I said.

  “Let’s go.”

  We exited the building through the employee entrance and started heading toward the subway station. It was damp and cold out here, but I was glad to be outside, under the real night sky, and not dressed as an elf who never felt the cold.

  Alberto “Lucky Bastard” Battistuzzi was a semi retired hit man in the Gambello crime family. Due to the strange twists and turns of fate, he was also friends with me and Max.

  Lucky had acquired his nickname due to surviving two attempts on his life as a young man, both times because an attacker’s gun jammed. Earlier this year, I had been present on a third such occasion, too, when a killer stuck a gun in his face and pulled the trigger—and the gun jammed rather than firing. This old guy really was lucky.

  “All right,” I said, “let me see if I interpreted your garbled comments correctly back there. You’re telling me the Gambellos are not responsible for hijacking those three Fenster shipments—”

  “Three?” he repeated in surprise. “There’s been a third heist?”

  “Yes, there have been three, not two,” I said, looking at him with interest. “It’ll probably be in the media soon.”

  Apparently the cops hadn’t revealed the first heist to the Gambellos. Lucky’s surprise about the number of trucks seemed to confirm his claim of the family’s innocence. But I hadn’t thought he was lying about that, anyhow.

  Oh, sure, if I walked up to Lucky and asked him if he or his associates were committing felonies, he’d lie to me and deny it. Of course he would. But it would make no sense for him to risk waiting around for me tonight in a place where he might be seen and recognized by an OCCB cop like Lopez, all so he could lie to me about something he certainly knew I would never hunt him down to ask about. (I did not make a habit of prying into Gambello business, after all.)

  I continued, “And you’ve evidently come to Fenster’s to investigate this matter, because you don’t think the cops will solve the case as long as they keep looking at the wrong perps, i.e. the Gambellos.”

  “Yeah.” Lucky pulled a knitted wool cap out of his pocket and put it on his head as we walked along. “That’s what I said.”

  “That’s not at all what you said, but I guess I got the gist of it anyhow.” I added, “So you infiltrated the staff by impersonating a maintenance man?”

  “That disguise was a mistake,” Lucky grumbled.

  “Because you don’t know how to fix things?” I asked.

  “No, because it don’t seem like those guys ever fix things.”

  “Ah. Yes, that much is true.”

  “I couldn’t get much investigatin’ done today, because every place I went in that store, as soon as anyone saw me, they practically did a full body tackle to get me fix something for them.” Clearly scandalized, he added, “That place is really falling apart, Esther. You should be careful there.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Then, late in the day, some big prop on the fourth floor went haywire—”

  “I know.”

  “—and everyone on maintenance was rounded up for that. When I got there, I looked around for you. Stella told me you’re working in Holidayland until she’s got more hours for you.”

  “It’s Solsticeland these days,” I said.

  “It didn’t used to be like that,” he said in a negative tone.

  “Nondenominational?”

  “Dark. They should call it Gloomyland. I liked it better the way it was back when we used to take my daughter there.” Lucky was a widower, with one grown-up daughter who lived in California with her husband. “Oh, by the way, before I forget. I ate at the restaurant yesterday. Stella sends her love and says right after New Year’s, she’ll have plenty of shifts for you, so hang tight.”

  “Okay.”

  “Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah, Gloomyland. So I spotted you, but I couldn’t get near you, because you were with OCCB’s golden boy, the one who solved them doppelgangster killings in spring.” He added, “Well, you, me, and Max solved them, actually. But your boyfriend did a pretty good job, too. Made his bones at OCCB, and all that.”

  Since Lucky had been around on the day Lopez broke up with me, he knew he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. Lopez hadn’t ever been my boyfriend, really. We had only gone on a few dates. But I let the phrase pass, rather than distract Lucky from his account by digressing into that subject.

  “And what with the OCCB so unjustly determined to pin these hijackings on the Gambello family, I didn’t exactly want to announce my presence in Fenster’s to the cops.”

  “They could so easily get the wrong idea,” I said. “What with the Gambello family’s history with the Fensters, and all. How petty of the cops to cling to that old stuff.”

  “Yeah,” Lucky said indignantly. “It would be just like them to think I’m casing the joint for the next hit, instead of trying to find clues to expose the perpetrators.”

  With so many maintenance men milling around in the general confusion after the enchanted tree had attacked, I wasn’t surprised that I hadn’t noticed one who was keeping a low profile and trying not to be seen by my companion. And Lopez was certainly observant enough that it was wise for Lucky to stay out of his sight.

  “And, Esther, was that a zombie I saw you talking to?”

  I frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant. “Oh! No. That was Elspeth Fenster.”

  “That dead-looking girl is a Fenster?” he said in amazement. “Jeez, old Connie was really losing her grip on things in her declining years, wasn’t she? Back in her prime, no way would she have let a family member go around looking like a messy corpse!”

  “It’s the goth look, Lucky. It’s a thing.”

  “It’s a creepy thing. I got a strong stomach and I ain’t scared of cor
pses, but I swear if that girl snuck up on me in the dark, I’d scream like a girl.”

  “You called her grandmother Connie,” I noted. “Did you know Constance Fenster?”

  “Only by reputation—and that old broad had quite a rep, let me tell you.”

  I paused at the entrance to the subway station. “I’m going down to the Village. I have to see Max.”

  “Ah. Right. About the . . . whatever it is that’s haunting Fenster’s? Good idea.” Seeing my surprised look, he said, “Oh, come on, sure I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, I grant you, it’s not obvious in the public parts of the store, where you work—”

  “Oh, actually, it’s gotten very obvious in some instances.”

  “—but sneaking around in the empty back halls and guts of that place, like I was today, you feel it real quick. Well, I did, anyhow.” He nodded. “There’s something at Fenster’s that didn’t used to be there. Something that don’t belong there.”

  I recalled that Lucky’s grandmother had been a white witch back in Sicily, and that he accepted supernatural phenomena with equanimity. I supposed he was more sensitive to mystical energy than I was; I hadn’t sensed anything until the enchanted tree had tried to eat me.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m going to see Max about. Whatever is . . .” I nodded, realizing that Lucky had used the right verb. “Whatever is haunting Fenster’s, it’s very dangerous. It tried to kill me today.”

  “What?” His eyes widened in alarm.

  “Or if it was just trying to scare me, then it certainly did a great job of that.” I added, “It also terrorized one of the Santas today, and I think it may have threatened a little boy.” Considering what had happened to me, I was no longer at all sure that Jonathan had been frightened by a harmless gnome statue due to his overactive imagination. It seemed entirely possible that what he’d described to us this morning was exactly what he had seen.

  “We gotta go see Max,” Lucky said with conviction, all business now. He took my elbow and accompanied me down the steps of the subway station. “I won’t put up with something evil threatening Santa Claus and little kids. That’s crossing the line.” After a moment, he added courteously, albeit as an afterthought, “I won’t put with something killing you, either, kid.”