Part 6 (1/2)
I put the notebook back in my shoulder bag and glanced at Ari. He stood up, and I followed.
”Thank you for cooperating,” Ari said to Evers. ”You may receive a follow-up call from Inspector Sanchez.”
Evers stayed slumped in his chair, and we left for real.
Out in the corridor, we paused by the elevator. Ari opened my shoulder bag and took out two devices. One teardrop-shaped bit of metal looked something like an ordinary earphone, but much smaller. I realized that Ari could have combed some of his hair over it, and no one would have noticed. The other device, a small square gray box, looked like nothing I'd ever seen. He clipped the one onto his left ear and held the other out in the direction of Evers' office.
”What are you doing?” I said.
”An illegal wiretap, of course. Shush.”
As much as I disliked being told to shush, I did and kept a watch on the corridor. In a few minutes Ari made a small mutter of satisfaction and removed the earpiece. He put the devices back into my bag.
”As I thought,” Ari said. ”He called both women and told them we'd been to see him. Unfortunately, he didn't say anything incriminating, and neither did they. He did, though, call one of them Sweetie.”
”Which may be why he didn't want to tell us their names.”
While we waited for the elevator down, I had the distinct feeling that someone was staring at me. I turned around, looked in all directions, but saw no one. Once the elevator car arrived, the feeling disappeared.
As soon as we returned to the apartment, Ari phoned Inspector Sanchez to report in. I sat down at my computer desk and contemplated the blank screen of the monitor. In the past, I'd occasionally seen clues and pictures appear when the system was down-just image objectification, of course-but it stayed stubbornly dark. Still, Evers' remark about spirits and the secrets of the universe nagged at me.
”That's done.” Ari strode back into the living room. ”Sanchez will follow up on the other two coven members.”
”d.a.m.n! I was hoping to interview them myself.”
”So was I, but I think we're being put in our place. I doubt if they have anything valuable to contribute, so I suppose it doesn't matter.”
”Let's hope. I-” I paused, staring at him. ”Grimoires.”
”What?”
”Sorry. The Collective Data Stream just reminded me that I've got some grimoires. You know, books of spells and magical lore.”
Ari rolled his eyes but said no more. I got up and went to my bookshelf, where I kept two scholarly editions of late medieval grimoires hidden behind a row of books on nutrition.
”You used a couple of words that triggered this,” I said to Ari. ”Put in place, valuable-they made me think of hidden treasure. If I'm not mistaken, that's one of the things spirits are supposed to do for you, finding lost treasures.”
Sure enough, when I leafed through the first grimoire, I found a pa.s.sage describing a guaranteed way of discovering buried gold. Since the spell began with biting out the heart of a living dove, I ignored the rest of the details.
”This Caleb guy,” I said, ”the one I told you about when we were coming home from Aunt Eileen's.”
”The treasure hunter?”
”That's him, yes. I'm wondering if he's our Brother Belial, and he was looking to invoke some spirits that could help him find it.”
”You could call your sister and ask if this fellow's tall and thin.”
”Brilliant idea. I'll do that.”
Kathleen, however, sank my hopes of a quick ID on the hooded man. Caleb Sumner was short and pudgy, she told me, and had a tenor voice.
”He p.r.o.nounces some words kind of funny,” Kathleen said. ”I mean, he keeps dropping his R's like some New England people do, but beyond that. When he says light and night, it's sort of like loit and noit.”
”When he's answering a question, does he say 'yeah yeah' instead of just 'yeah'?”
”Yeah, he does.”
”I bet he's from Martha's Vineyard.”
”The island? No wonder he's so good with boats, then. Jack says he really knows his stuff. Other than that, he's a total dork, if you ask me, not that anyone does.” Hurt crept into her voice. ”Jack won't hear a word against him.”
That bit of information struck me as odd, because Jack was normally suspicious of everyone who tried to befriend him. Like many rich people, he worried that these potential friends were trying to get into his bank account.
”Does Caleb come to the house a lot?” I said.
”Not a lot, not since Woofie Five bit him.” Kathleen paused for a laugh. ”Really hard on the ankle, which was all the poor little love could reach. He's the Yorkie mix.”
And as nasty a canine critter as you could find, or at least, so I remembered him. In this case, however, I was prepared to cut Woofie Five some slack.
”Did Caleb do something to set him off?”
”No. It was just the bad vibe.” Kathleen hesitated, thinking in her usual slow way. ”Aunt Eileen told me that you're still going with that British guy. The one from InterCop or whatever it's called.”
”Interpol, and his name's Ari Nathan. He's Israeli. He just sounds British. Actually, we're looking for an apartment together.”
Kathleen squealed in honest delight. ”Oh, that's great news!” she said once she'd finished squealing. ”Congrats!”
”Well, it's not like we're engaged or anything.”
”I could guess that, knowing you.”
”What do you mean by that?”
”Just your fear of commitment. That's what Sean calls it, anyway.”
”Well, he could be right about that.”
”It's probably because we lost Dad.”
”Oh, don't you get all psychological on me!”
Although she didn't laugh, I swear I could hear her smiling, it was that loud.
”Anyway.” Kathleen paused again. ”But, Ari, if he's a cop, he must know what criminals are like, right?”
”It comes with the job, yeah.”
”I wonder if he could take a look at Caleb for me. You're coming to the party Sunday, aren't you?”
”Yeah, for sure. Will Caleb be there?”