by Gerard Denza
-Here you go.
-Oh, good. I'll get started.
-And, don't worry, the balance is healthy enough.
He sat down at his desk and looked over at his youngest sister.
-Nella? Anything on your mind? You look preoccupied.
She looked up and smiled.
-You know me too well. I have a message for you.
-From whom?
-Mother.
He took out a cigarette and lit up.
-She wouldn't tell me what the message was, only that it was more than just urgent.
Edward tossed his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk.
-Our mother, the dramatist.
-She wants to see you today. She won't speak over the phone.
The P. I. exhaled some cigarette smoke.
-I can appreciate that. Mother has some pretty dark secrets in her back pocket.
-To change the subject: your car is fixed and ready for you. Mitch drove it over to the house early this morning. So, you don't have to take the subway on the your way back.
-Amen! Not that I mind riding the subway; but, I prefer driving. Nella? You gonna' be here when I get back?
-I think so. I can see that I have a lot of bookkeeping to do.
-Good. I'm expecting a call from Ginny Gray and it's important.
-The newspaper woman?
-That's the one. And, now, I might as well get going.
-Edward? I think it involves Catrina. Our sister didn't come down for breakfast – which is not unusual -- and the tray that I left by her door was still untouched when I got ready to come here.
-Did you knock on her door?
-Of course. And, there was no answer. Even Dottie tried, not that she wanted to.
He put out his cigarette and got up to leave.
-We should have put her in a hospice, you know. She probably needs psychiatric care.
Nella put down her pen.
-I'm sure you're right about that. She was never the most stable of people. Always rushing about as if the devil were chasing her. The other night, Dottie swears that she saw Catrina actually leave the house.
Edward was about to put on his Fedora, but his arm stopped in mid-air.
-You're kidding? And no one told me? Did Dottie wait for her to come back?
-She fell asleep on the couch. She was quite angry with herself.
-So am I!
Edward put his Fedora on.
-I'd like to know where the hell she went. Anyway, if Ginny's call comes through or Sgt. Rayno's tell them where to reach me.
Three
EDWARD MADE a circuit around his newly repaired Ford. Mitch, his repair man, did good work and at a pretty reasonable rate. He got in and started the motor.
-Good. Purring like a contented kitten. Which reminds me.
He got out of his car and locked up. He had a catnip treat for Dottie's cat, Stripes. Edward climbed up the red stoop and let himself into his mother's house.. It was starting to snow again.
-Anybody home?
He walked into the living room. Dottie was sitting in one of the two armchairs with Stripes on her lap.
-Well, hello, brother, mine.
Edward planted a kiss on his sister's cheek and handed Stripes his catnip mouse.
-And, where is mother?
Dottie gave him a conspiratorial smile.
-Toss me a cigarette and I'll tell you.
-I'll give you the rest of the pack if you can tell me what's up with Catrina.
Dottie laughed.
-I guess I'll have to settle for the one cigarette.
Edward flipped her a cigarette and made himself comfortable on the couch.
-I hear you spotted Catrina leaving the house the other night.
Dottie lit her cigarette.
-And, I should have followed the bitch. Why didn't I?
-What direction was she headed?
-Toward 7th Ave., I think.
-Did she have her purse with her?
Dottie thought about this for a second or two.
-No...which is kind of strange; but, she was carrying something...a box...something small.
-Any idea what was in it?
-Not a clue.
Dottie took a drag on her cigarette and Stripes jumped off her lap.
-Has she come out of her room yet?
-No. But, mother's in her room waiting for you. I think you know where the inner sanctum is.
Edward nodded and bent over to pet Stripes.
-You bet I do. And, I'd better get this done with.
-Hey, Eddie? Fill me in, will you, when you're done? I'll be waiting with bated breath.
-You bet.
Edward extinguished his cigarette. He walked the length of the narrow hallway and rapped on his mother's bedroom door.
-Come in, Edward.
The P. I. opened the door and was greeted by the subtle fragrance of lavender.
-Please, close the door, Edward, and bring that armchair closer to my bed. There. Now, sit down and make yourself comfortable. And, for heaven's sake, smoke if you like. Your father smoked like a chimney when he was alive.
Edward didn't need much persuasion.
-You look well, Edward. But, I'm sure you want me to get to the point for your being here.
-You have my undivided attention. And, you're looking well but just a little on edge.
-Yes. I am deeply concerned.
-Is it about Catrina? I hear she's been out and about, lately.
-Catrina is involved. It is her errand the other night – of which I was unaware – that has brought you here. She took an object from this house. I can't even conceive of why!
-Let me get you some water.
-Please. It's over there on the bureau.
He brought back the glass of water.
-Thank you.
-Do you want to rest?
She took a sip of the water.
-No. I must tell you. What she took is one of the reasons for my staying in this house for so many years. It is also the reason why Catrina lived in fear of being here and why she left so often and for so long.
-Dottie saw her take something out of the house that looked like a small box.
-Indeed. Dottie should have stopped her. Why didn't she?
-Mother? What exactly is this object?
-It is what is now referred to as a doomsday weapon. It is a blue-green stone that is not a stone at all. Harmless, if you can describe it as such...as long as it remains intact. If tampered with, it could wreak worldwide destruction. It can trigger off explosions similar to the one witnessed at Nagasaki, but far more deadly. I've been guarding it all these years and have lived in fear of someone finding it. Catrina has run from it and I fear that in her unstable frame of mind she has given it to someone.
-Why would she give it away?
-I don't know. To rid herself of any further responsibility in caring for it, perhaps. Or, perhaps, her reasons were monetary. If that is the case, then, I disown her as my daughter.
Edward sat back in his chair and lit another cigarette.
-You and my sister had no right to keep such a weapon. You know that. It should have been turned over to the authorities.
-Your father left it in my care.
-Where did he get it from? Who the hell gave it to him?
-From beings not unlike ourselves: a race that preceded all races.
Edward immediately thought of-
-The Sumerian race?
-More ancient than even that ancient race. He never told me; but, I am well read and informed.
-And, you didn't ask him? I can't believe that. You're holding out on me.
-Edward, speak to Catrina.
-Who were or are these beings or race?
-Settlers, Edward, from another world...a world that passes close to our own once every three thousand years.
The P. I. put out his thir
d cigarette and lit up one more.
-As soon as I'm through with Catrina, I'm going to have to notify the authorities. This goes beyond my scope as an investigator. And, mother just where did you keep this “weapon?”
-In the cellar, behind the washing machine.
-Good God!
Edward went down to the cellar, moved the washing machine from the wall and opened a small, metal door. The tiny vault was empty. He went back upstairs and headed straight to Catrina's bedroom followed by Dottie and Stripes.
-Can you believe it? Our mother turning against the favored daughter? No wonder the world's in such a mess!
Edward didn't answer. He knocked on Catrina's door. No answer. He knocked, again, louder.
-Catrina? It's Edward. Open up.
No response.
-I said: open up, damn it!
-Eddie, kick the god-damn door in or I will.
He did just that.
Catrina's room was empty.
-Eddie, the closet. Maybe-
Empty, except for her many clothes: each garment hung in a plastic garment bag.
Dottie looked under the bed.
-Not there.
She scooped up Stripes.
-I'll be damned, Eddie. Where in God's name is our good-for-nothing bitch of a sister? Well, at least she's alive.
Edward wasn't so sure about that. He took another look around the room. Neat as a pin. Nothing disturbed and not even a speck of dust.
-It's like being in some kind of hospital room. Even the damned bed is made like an army bed – and I oughta' know.
-And, no dust! How the hell does she do it? I can't imagine our sister doing any kind of housework So, now what?
He filled his sister in on all that had happened that day.
-Eddie, you've gotta' report this. The whole city could be in danger. And, those two witches sitting on it all these years. It's incredible!
-Dottie, after I leave, lock up and keep mother company until Victoria gets home. Where is she, by the way?
-Out shopping. She oughta' be home soon.
-Good. Stay indoors.
-I'll walk out with you to the car.
Outside, it had stopped snowing. Dottie looked up and down the block.
-Nice little sugary coating. Oh! Eddie, I think there's something under your car.
-Like what? Could be a cat trying to keep warm.
-Oh, I hope not. I hate seeing that.
The P. I. walked to the back of his Ford and squatted down to have a look. There was something under his car all right.
-Oh, Christ!
-What is it, Eddie?
-You better have a look. And, you'd better brace yourself.
Dottie almost slipped on the snow hurrying to where her brother was. When she saw what he was staring at, she let out a scream.
-Oh, God! Eddie!
Catrina was stuffed naked under the car. Her lifeless eyes stared back at her brother and sister.
-Your sister was beaten to death, Mendez. Every bone in her body was either broken or fractured and every tooth knocked loose. There are cigar burns on her face and other extremities as well. Massive hemorrhaging in the brain. The life was literally knocked out of her. I'm familiar with her previous history as regards the burns over most of her body. Rather nasty burns at that.
Dr. Claire Ingram finished her preliminary autopsy at just past noon. Edward listened for what it was worth. He had only one question for the good doctor.
-Any sign of radiation in her?
-Radiation, Mendez? No. Not a trace as far as I can tell. Were you expecting any?
-As a matter of fact, I was. Never mind. I'll be on my way. When can I claim the body?
-That's up to the police. You know the procedure. I still have some blood tests to run that may come up with something. You know...the usual protocol. Bit of a bore really; but, every once in a while, surprises do pop up.
-Uh-huh. Well, be seeing you, Dr. Ingram.
-What's the hurry, Mendez? You don't seem too broken up about your sister's rather untimely death.
-Untimely? No. It was long overdue.
Edward got back in his car. The police had dusted, inspected and photographed the interior and exterior. Nothing. Even Mitch, the mechanic, had been brought in and interrogated and released. It was now going on 3:30 P.M. He put in a call to Nella and told her to hold still and wait for him to pick her up. Dottie joined him in the police precinct's small lobby.
-Well?
-Beaten to death.
Brother and sister remained silent for just a moment.
-Dottie, I'll give you a lift home. Do you mind breaking the news to mother?
-I'll do it. You go and pick up Nella. And, for God's sake, Eddie, tell the authorities about you-know-what.
-I've got to.
-And, Eddie...I didn't like Catrina I'm sorry, but there it is.
-Neither did I and I'm going easy.
-Is what mother said...well, she doesn't really know if this stone is... I don't know what I'm trying to say. It's all hearsay, Eddie, right?
-Maybe. But, the circumstantial evidence is pretty damned strong. Let's go.
Nella left a note on Edward's desk stating that she was taking a cab home and that Ginny Gray called and that she might be hard to reach as she was on assignment.
Edward crumpled the note and tossed it into the waste basket. He placed a call to Lt. Donovan who was not his favorite person. He left a message with the desk Sergeant that he, Edward Mendez, was on his way uptown to meet with the Lieutenant. He hadn't taken off his jacket and Fedora and he was starting to overheat. He left his office and this time headed uptown to pick up Yolanda at the ice rink.
-I'm going to drive you home, baby. It's been one helluva' day and it's not over.
He told her about the events that had ended in Catrina's death.
-Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry. I know she was a difficult person to get along with; but, I'm sure you're grieving her death.
-Murder. Let's call it what it is. And, my dead sister probably created the circumstances of her death.
-From what you know that's probably true. She even deceived her own mother.
-She must have resented our mother and the rest of the family. She probably hated my father most of all.
-Did your sister like anybody?
The P. I. smiled.
-You'll always be my Girl Friday, baby. You have a unique way of looking at things.
-So, you're on your way to have a talk with Lt. Donovan.
It was a statement and not a question.
-And, he doesn't even know it...not yet.
-Be careful with him, Edward. He holds grudges, that man.
-Don't I know it.
After taking Yolanda up to her apartment, Edward continued uptown to the E. 86th St. precinct. The P. I. parked his Ford just a block away. And, in a few minutes, he was sitting in the Interrogation Room on the third floor. He had company. Lt. Donovan had gotten his message and was seated at the head of the table. Sgt. Rayno was to Edward's left and, to the P. I.'s surprise, Ginny Gray was to his right. Also in the room was Miss Raymond with her stenotype machine. Edward took note of the stenographer's lovely figure.
-She really is very pretty in an almost innocent sort of way.
Lt. Donovan started things off. He directed his first statement to Ginny Gray.
-Miss Gray?
-Lieutenant? Looks like I made it here just in time.
-You pushed your way in here, lady.
-Power of the press.
-You know I could just as easily throw you out.
-Don't even think of it. Or...think of the headline I could make out of it? Not that I'd want to of course....but...
Lt. Donovan ignored that dangling statement and continued to address the journalist.
-What's said in this room remains right here. You'll get your scoop – if there is one to get – jus
t give us at least a forty-eight hour head start.
-Deal.
Lt. Donovan addressed Edward.
-Okay, Mendez? Why did you call this meeting? Not because of those two stiffs that were taken out of the Diamond District?
-It involves them.
-How?
Edward took a deep drag on his cigarette. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.
-My sister, Catrina Mendez, was murdered. Probably within the past 36 hours.
Everyone in the room was shocked. Ginny Gray was shocked because she hadn't heard about it before everyone else. She got out her notepad and started jotting down notes.
-Mendez...sorry to hear that, man.
-Thanks, Lieutenant. She had taken a stone – a weapon, if you would – from our house in Brooklyn. This weapon, I've reason to believe, was given to a Mr. Louis Octavio; but, I'm not a hundred percent sure of that. I do know that this Octavio character was a client of the late Mr. Eisenstein who was killed this morning.
Lt. Donovan was listening intently as was everyone else in that room.
-Okay, Mendez, what exactly is this “weapon” and how the hell did it find its way into your home?
Edward took another drag on his nearly spent cigarette.
-My father – and don't ask me how he came by it 'cause I don't know – passed it on to my mother for safe keeping when he died. It's a small, blue-green stone. Left on its own, it's harmless except for some residual radiation.
Lt. Donovan was shaking his head.
-But?
-If it's tampered with, broken up in any way, the radiation is released.
Lt. Donovan pointed his cigarette at Edward.
-And?
-The fragment could be rigged to trigger off an explosion.
-Like dynamite?
-No. More like the H-bomb dropped on Nagasaki and then some.
-Is this fact, Mendez, or just wild speculation? Has this stone even been tested? I can't believe what you're telling me.
-I don't think so. And, I wouldn't like to be the one testing it.
-Wasn't your father some kind of an occultist?
-He was.
Lt. Donovan put out his cigarette.
-Then, why the devil am I even listening to this?
Ginny Gray saw that Edward was about to explode, so she jumped into the conversation.
