‘I’m not sure. The High Priest, I guess. I don’t know his real name.’
‘How do you get in touch with each other to arrange meetings?’ Riley asked.
‘Email,’ Moore said.
‘We’ll need your computers,’ Sam told her. ‘Work and home.’
‘I don’t use the one at work for personal stuff.’
Riley made a soft, snorting sound.
‘We’ll still need both,’ Sam said. ‘We’ll be obtaining search warrants, and meantime, someone will wait in your office and outside your apartment to ensure that you don’t touch the equipment.’
‘But you don’t have a warrant yet, do you?’ Moore asked.
‘Are you refusing to cooperate?’ Sam asked.
‘No,’ Moore said. ‘Of course not.’
‘Good,’ Sam said.
EIGHTY-NINE
S
o much to do in so little time.
Apply for search warrants for Beatty’s office and computers as well as Moore’s.
Learn as much as possible about witchcraft and how it might or might not relate to the homicides.
Find the High Priest and every other damned member of the coven, not to mention the initiate so they could confirm her blood match. Because whether or not they had just pranced around and kissed and touched and stroked and pushed that poor, idiotic young woman down on to the floor, or whether they’d all screwed their brains out, all or any one of them might also be material witnesses, and Sam and Riley and the squad needed them.
But Sam was taking his wife on a surprise birthday cruise
tomorrow.
So Sam was just about out of time.
And it hurt him that something intended to be so happy should presently be giving him an almost physical pain because of what he saw as a dereliction of duty and a betrayal of all the victims.
Suzy and Michael Easterman. Elizabeth Price and André Duprez. Evelyn and Frank Ressler. And all their loved ones.
‘You’ll only be gone five days,’ Alvarez said when Sam came in just before six.
‘Five of the most critical days since this began,’ Sam pointed out.
‘They’re all critical,’ Alvarez said, ‘but if it helps you come to terms, I’m planning to work the case with Riley till you get back.’
Startled, Sam nodded. ‘It helps a heck of a lot.’
Which might not have been the case with any number of sergeants he’d known, but Mike Alvarez had all those years of experience as a homicide detective under his belt, was one of
them
, and suddenly, for the first time in days, Sam could picture getting Grace on board that ship after all.
‘So now would be the right time for you to pass on any ideas you think the rest of us might not be coming up with,’ Alvarez said.
‘A lunar calendar,’ Sam said. ‘I’ve already downloaded one.’
‘In case there’s any kind of link-up between the witchcraft thing and the other killings,’ Alvarez said.
‘The moon wasn’t full on the night of the fourth, but it seems that witches or Wiccans get together at new moons, too, and they have festivals called sabbats.’ Sam was speeding up. ‘I’ve downloaded what they call the Wheel of the Year, too, which is kind of a witch’s calendar – I’ll get a copy right to you.’
‘Worth looking at,’ Alvarez agreed.
‘Only one of the festivals fits the bill for this month,’ Sam said. ‘It’s known by a bunch of names, but the one we’d recognize most easily is Candlemas.’
‘I thought that was a Christian festival.’
‘Also a pretty major thing for witches, apparently, which might have connected time-wise to the first two killings, but not the last.’
‘Unless maybe it was a spark that lit a longer fuse,’ Alvarez said.
‘More likely, this whole witch angle is going to mean nothing more than our best shot at finding witnesses,’ Sam said. ‘But we need to sit hard on Beatty and Moore. We need them to tell us exactly where they and their
group
were every second of all those days and nights, and if their alibis aren’t diamond solid . . .’
‘I said anything we might not be coming up with,’ Alvarez said dryly.
‘Then one last thing about the Wiccan wheel,’ Sam said. ‘If this is a link, and if the killing has stopped, it might just start again next month. Spring equinox is another big deal for them, a regaining of strength being one of the notions I read up on.’
‘Let’s hope we get lucky before then,’ Alvarez said.
‘God, yes,’ Sam said.
‘Go clear your desk,’ the sergeant told him. ‘Give everything to Riley, copies to me, then go see Martinez, make sure he’s under control. I don’t want to have to worry about any crazy grandstanding by him when they let him out of the hospital.’
‘I doubt he’ll have the strength,’ Sam said.
‘Then get yourself home.’
‘I can’t go home early,’ Sam said, ‘without making Grace suspicious, so I’d like to keep on working the case for another hour or so. And since I’ll have to leave home as usual in the morning, I might as well come to the office.’
‘If you come here tomorrow,’ Alvarez told him, ‘there’s a pile of outstanding paperwork with your name on it. If you’re not here, that’s OK, too. You’re officially on vacation, just try and remember that.’ He smiled. ‘And give my love to Grace.’
NINETY
February 26
N
o setbacks on Thursday morning.
David had come over earlier with Mildred and taken Joshua out to the beach, leaving Mildred in the office to man the phones and do a little filing while Grace saw her patient, an eight-year-old still severely traumatized by her older brother’s accidental death a year ago.
Saul was nervous as hell, waiting to play his part; definitely, he figured, the toughest job of this day. Not a natural actor, he also felt genuine repugnance for what he was about to do; trivializing something that he personally knew to be all-consumingly painful.
Still, all in a fine cause, and as he and Cathy had agreed, nothing much else would persuade Grace to drop everything and get over to their place.
He waited till ten forty-five, checked his watch for the umpteenth time and made the call.
Mildred, sitting at the small pine desk that had first been used by Dora Rabinovitch, then by Lucia Busseto – her memory the source of more horrors for the Beckets – answered. ‘Good morning, Saul.’
‘You sound calm,’ he said.
‘And why wouldn’t I be?’ she said. ‘Is it me you’re after?’
‘Is Grace still with her patient?’
‘No, she’s free to speak with you.’
Mildred asked him to hold on, passed the phone to Grace, now at her desk, completing her notes.
‘Hi, Saul,’ Grace said. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘I’m good.’ He hesitated, then bit the bullet. ‘Grace, I hate to ask this, but I think I could really use your help.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘What do you need?’
‘You,’ he said. ‘To talk to.’
Grace sat back in her chair. ‘You got me.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘You want to come over now?’
‘Would it be a great imposition – ’ Saul was wincing – ‘to ask you to come here?’
‘Are you OK?’
He heard the concern in her voice, had to toughen up. ‘I’m not sure.’
Tension hit Grace in the pit of her stomach. ‘I’ll be right over.’
‘Grace, there’s no need to rush,’ Saul said swiftly. ‘Drive safely.’
‘Don’t you worry about me,’ she told him.
Cathy watched the blue Toyota cross the causeway and disappear from sight, and then she drove the Mazda around the bend and parked outside the house.
Mildred was at the door, waiting. ‘All clear.’
Cathy kissed her, bent to greet Woody. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘No trouble to me,’ Mildred said.
‘I’ve still no idea what to pack,’ Cathy said, already halfway up the stairs.
‘Don’t ask my advice,’ Mildred called after her. ‘I used to be a bag lady, remember?’
‘You’re a woman of great style,’ Cathy told her.
‘Just get up there,’ Mildred said, ‘and start packing.’
‘How’s Joshua doing?’ Cathy called from the bedroom door.
‘He’s with his grandpa, so he’s doing just fine. Now you stop procrastinating and
move
it.’
Cathy came back to the top of the staircase. ‘What if Grace comes back?’
‘She won’t,’ Mildred said, ‘and if she does, I’ll let you know and you can climb out of the window or hide under the bed or whatever you damned well decide.’
‘You’re a big help.’
Mildred grinned. ‘I aim to please.’
‘I should never have got you over here,’ Saul said. ‘Talk about an over-reaction.’
‘To what?’ Grace asked.
‘Would you like some coffee?’
‘If you’re having some, sure.’
She had liked the feel of his kitchen right away when he’d first shown it to her and Sam, liked it even more since Cathy had come to share with him. It might be small and modern, but the atmosphere was just fine.
Good people made good atmospheres, stood to reason.
‘Are you in a hurry?’ Saul asked.
‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Your dad has Joshua, and he’s going to pick up Mildred in a while, and they both told me they have plenty of time today, so you can take as long as you need.’
‘As a matter of fact,’ Saul said, ‘I feel better already.’
‘Good,’ Grace said.
She waited while he made coffee, always mindful of the therapeutic benefits for troubled people of
doing
– something that became reversed, of course, in their sessions with their psychologists. Nothing to do then but talk.
Saul, thank God, was not her patient.
She watched him, though, as he fussed uncharacteristically over making fresh coffee, taking down their better cups, finding cookies, making inconsequential chatter until he sat down at the small table opposite her.
‘Do you have plans?’ she asked him.
‘No. Why?’
‘You keep checking the time,’ Grace said. ‘You seem very wound up.’
‘Only because I made you come here,’ Saul said. ‘You have enough to deal with, and I took you away from it.’
‘Right this minute, I have my best beloved brother-in-law to deal with,’ Grace told him warmly. ‘Or at least to listen to. If he wants to talk to me.’
‘OK.’ Saul managed a smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘So?’
‘I’ve been feeling a little down.’
Grace waited. She had grown to feel that waiting had become one of her greatest accomplishments. Knowing when people were ready to unload or, as was so often the case, not ready or even willing.
‘Not about anything specific,’ Saul said. ‘A little of everything, I guess.’
Grace stirred her coffee, went on waiting.
‘I miss Teté,’ he said.
That, at least, was the truth. He was getting better, had begun healing properly a while back, but he did still miss Teri Suarez, his lost love, every single day of his life.
‘Of course you do,’ Grace said.
‘And I’d be a liar if I said I missed studying or medicine,’ Saul said. ‘But that still troubles me now and then. The fact that I wasted people’s time, took up space that someone better than me, more committed than me, could have used.’ He paused, painfully aware, suddenly, that none of this was a lie. ‘And I know that if all that hadn’t happened to me, if I hadn’t been attacked that way, I might just have gone on at UM, but I never really believed I was cut out to be a good doctor, not like Dad.’
None of this was new to Grace, but it had been a long while since Saul had spoken to her about it, and if he had not been talking to anyone else either, then maybe it was just time to let it spill out again.
Unless there was something new behind it, something worse.
‘Has this been building up again for a while?’ she asked.
Saul shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Or not that I’ve been aware.’ His smile was tinged with guilt. ‘I’ve been feeling pretty happy, in fact. Especially since Cathy moved in.’
‘I know she feels that way,’ Grace said.
‘So what do I expect?’ Saul stood up, finding the deception even harder sitting there face to face with her. ‘No one feels happy all the time. I have so much. The best family anyone could wish for. A nice home. Work I really love.’
‘And yet?’ Grace said into the pause.
Saul fought against checking the time again, but it was impossible not to, and it was almost noon now, which meant that soon he’d be able to suggest making lunch for them both, and then he’d already decided he’d take Grace to the workshop to show her his new project, and then it wouldn’t be too long before Sam arrived.
Come early, Sam.
They had talked, he and his brother, about Saul being the one to drive Grace to the port, but they’d realized there was no getting around her bringing her own car here, so short of arranging for someone to come and let down her tires, they’d run out of ideas; and anyway, the final part of this deal ought to be down to Sam.
Sam the man.
Best big brother in the world.
Pretty damn good husband, too, from where Saul was sitting.
If he ever found another woman to love and be loved by, he hoped he could be half as good as Sam, or as their father, come to that.
‘Saul?’
Grace was looking at him quizzically.
He told himself to get a grip.
‘I’m sorry,’ Saul said. ‘I was a long way off.’
He took a deep breath, and went on.
NINETY-ONE
S
am was carrying flowers when he arrived.
Nothing too fancy, just a bunch of pretty pink-and-white early spring flowers that had caught his eye.
There would be red roses in their stateroom on her birthday.
‘What’s going on?’ Grace said when she saw him coming into Saul’s hallway.
‘Plenty,’ Sam said, gave her the little bouquet and a kiss on the lips.
‘I knew it,’ she said.