A Barricade in Hell (32 page)

Maximillian gave Dora a considering look. “Do you have German blood, Miss—?”

Mr. Hopkins spoke up, likely thinking he was being helpful. “Bobet. Miss Isadora Bobet.”

A muscle in Dora's jaw twitched, but she kept smiling and didn't let go of his hand. “My family is Welsh, but I spent several years on the continent. I managed to pick up bits of the language in several countries. I know
Das Vaterland
means ‘the Fatherland,' but beyond that I admit I'm lost.”

“I should have guessed a lady like yourself was well traveled. Allow me to translate, Miss Bobet.” He ran his finger over the inscription on the ring. “The words say ‘Loyalty to the Fatherland to evidence, gave I, in troublous time, gold for this iron.' It's an old sentiment, dating back to the war with Napoléon. My grandfather wore a ring like this, and his father before him. Some family traditions shouldn't be broken. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way.”

The bell over the front door jangled, signaling his departure. I turned in time to see Maximillian through the window. He'd stopped to speak with Nathan, but hurried away in less than a minute. I wanted to think it innocent, to imagine he'd just asked directions of Nathan or inquired as to the time, but I couldn't. Nothing about this man was innocent.

“Dee, take these.” Isadora held out the three tickets with a shaking hand. “Seal them in your handbag before I disgrace myself by being ill.”

I did as she asked and set the handbag aside. She was sagging against the counter and looked near to sliding to the floor, so I put an arm around her waist and held her up. “Are you all right? Should I call Gabe to come get us?”

“I'm far from all right, but I will survive.” She gave Mr. Hopkins a wan smile. “I shouldn't have worn this coat so long indoors, it's much too warm. Would you be so kind as to fetch me a glass of water?”

“Oh, yes.” He looked startled, but stopped wringing his hands. “Of course.”

With my assistance, Dora slipped out of the coat and I helped her to a chair. She batted my hand away as I tried to loosen her collar. “Don't fret so, Dee. Once I get some air and my stomach settles, I'll be fine. Nathan can take us straight home once I've paid Mr. Hopkins for the coat.”

“Nathan's not taking us anywhere. I'm sending Mr. Hopkins out to dismiss him for the day.” Twilight had deepened to full dark, but I could still see Nathan standing ramrod stiff under the streetlight. I gestured toward the window. “That man, Maximillian, spoke with Nathan before he left. I have no idea what they said, but I'd feel safer telephoning Gabe or Randy to take us home. If I can't reach either of them, I'll summon a cab.”

“He spoke with Nathan? How interesting.” Dora studied the driver through the window and frowned. “Your instincts are the equal of mine, Dee, often better. I won't second-guess you about this. We'll send for Randy.”

Mr. Hopkins returned with Dora's water and was dispatched to send Nathan away. I watched their heated exchange, a silent pantomime viewed from my side of the window glass. Mr. Hopkins had no trouble being firm with those he considered below his station, and it didn't take long before Nathan stomped around to the driver's door. Mr. Hopkins stood at the curb, a fierce scowl on his face, and made sure Nathan was well and truly gone. I breathed a small prayer of thanks as the car pulled away.

I settled in next to Dora after using Mr. Hopkins's telephone to call the police station, prepared to wait patiently for Randy's arrival. She sat with her eyes closed and head tipped so that it rested against the chair back, but I knew she wasn't sleeping. “Mr. Hopkins is still outside, and Randy will be here soon. You can tell me now.”

She opened one eye to peer at me. “Tell you what?”

“Why you took such a risk. I thought the plan was to spy on Effie Fontaine from a distance, without her knowing who we are or that we were part of the crowd. Now we're specially invited to her reception afterwards.” I hugged my handbag to my chest, needing to hold tight to something. “And I can't believe you let that man touch you. Not after what I saw. That was very foolish, Dora.”

Dora shut her eyes again, hands resting on her stomach. “My my, the worm has turned. Not long ago I was the one scolding you for taking too many risks. I'm not certain if I should be proud you're such an apt pupil or wounded. That you're right doesn't help at all. But in my defense, I was very careful. I'm reasonably certain he didn't mark me.”

“Oh, that makes me feel much better, Dora. I shan't worry then until you keel over or break out in large spots.” Mr. Hopkins was visible through the shop window, speaking with a beat cop and pointing down the street. Perhaps Nathan hadn't gone far after all. That would serve to make me all the more suspicious. “Now that we've established you acted foolishly, tell me what Maximillian is and what being marked means. I like to know what I'm frightened of.”

“Don't settle for half measures, Dee, be utterly terrified. Maximillian is a hunter for the rituals Fontaine uses to raise power. He's still a man, but participation in blood rituals has left him—tainted. Less than completely human.” Dora groaned and pushed herself upright in the chair. A touch of color had returned to her face, pinking her cheeks and making her look somewhat less drained. “My guess is he hunts for people who already believe wholeheartedly in her cause or that are weak-willed enough to convert fully. Once he finds someone, he singles them out for special attention. Belief in anything is a potent force on its own. The stronger a person's faith, the more power their death yields.”

“Mandy believed, but surely not all the people who've disappeared were that passionate.”

“No, of course not. They didn't need to be.” She pulled her burnished gold compact from her handbag and studied her reflection in the small mirror. “Faith that someone has told you the truth or means to keep a promise can be enough. The men hired for day labor all thought the job was real and that they'd be paid. The yield in power is smaller, but still tangible.”

Fear tasted acrid, burning the back of my throat and making it difficult to swallow. I'd spent two years learning about the occult from Isadora, and she'd never glossed over any of the dangers we might encounter, or that evil was a real, true thing. Neither of us had anticipated someone like Effie Fontaine arriving in San Francisco. I don't think we could have.

Being afraid didn't mean I could walk away. “How do we stop her?”

“With a great deal of caution. The forces at work here are ones I've only read about. There's a strong possibility that Fontaine is in thrall to some sort of demon.” She glanced at me, making sure I listened, and went back to studying her reflection. “The teacher I studied with in Europe had me read translations of ancient Babylonian and Greek texts as part of my training. He wanted me prepared for anything, no matter how improbable. One text spoke about night and wind demons, and what I'm seeing reminds me a great deal of that section. That would also explain Maximillian.”

“All right, you've won. I'm terrified now.” I didn't bother asking if Isadora was joking. “We've banished our fair share of ghosts together. I assume there are ways to banish demons.”

“It's not quite so simple. But yes, if my theory proves to be true, there are ways to rid the city of their influence.” Dora tucked the compact away again and leaned back in the chair. “I still need to get a look at her during one of her lectures. That will tell me a great deal more about her alliances in the spirit realm and what steps I need to take. Simply arresting Effie Fontaine isn't enough. We need to sever her ties to those allies. What happened to poor Archie and Maximillian's transformation, for lack of a better word, are proof of that.”

“Convincing Gabe and Jack that we need to go through with this mad plan won't be easy, but I don't see another way either. They can't stop her on their own.” A car pulled up outside, drawing the beat cop's attention. Randy Dodd climbed out of the driver's side, dressed in street clothes but with his badge in hand. “Randy's arrived. We can pull him into our conspiracy on the drive to your house. Perhaps we should leave out the parts involving Maximillian's being less than human.”

“I wouldn't even attempt this without Randy. Daniel's neutrality isn't as strong, but he's accustomed to shielding me. This will be Randy's first encounter with occult forces, hostile ones at that. He deserves to know what he's walking into.” Dora stood, looking much steadier than I'd feared. “At least now I have a glimmering of why Fontaine is involved in such filthy practices. The ring Maximillian wears is a symbol of loyalty to the German throne. Within European spiritualist circles, the Kaiser is notorious for being involved with unsavory aspects of the occult. Given the stories I heard when I visited Austria, blood rituals aren't out of the ken of possibility.”

Isadora didn't often shock me, not in the way she had when we first met. She'd shocked me now. “You can't seriously think the Kaiser is behind Effie Fontaine committing murder. What would he have to gain?”

“Victory in the Great War. Power. Think about what's at stake, Dee, and what message Effie Fontaine preaches. She finds people who already believe in pacifism on some level and whips their belief to a fevered pitch. Then she harvests the power generated by that belief to spread the message further.” Dora slipped her arm through mine and we started toward the door. “If President Wilson declares war on Germany and our troops enter the fighting, that will likely decide the outcome of the war. Given that scenario, the Kaiser will almost certainly lose. If the United States remains neutral? A German victory is almost assured.”

A part of me wanted to dismiss the idea, but I couldn't reject it out of hand. What Dora had said held the ring of truth. “Converting more people to the side of pacifism will rob the president of the support he needs. The United States will never enter the war.”

She patted my arm. “Exactly. Matters in Europe are at a critical point and could go either way. Preventing America from ever entering the fray is actually a very clever plan on Kaiser Wilhelm's part. Who would ever give credence to the idea that an evangelist advocating peace was the Kaiser's invading army?”

“Gabe will.” I pulled open the shop door and held it for Dora. “Jack as well.”

“Others will be harder to convince, if not impossible. What we need right now is evidence that Fontaine or the people working for her were involved in Bradley Wells's murder or Mandy's disappearance. Involvement in a conspiracy will be enough to arrest her.” She frowned. “I can deal with the occult aspects and disregard legal niceties. Gabe needs something to take to court. Something a judge won't consider lunacy.”

Randy came forward to take Dora's arm. She leaned more heavily on him, but her smile was brighter too. I was glad for that. His presence helped cure the ill effects her encounter with Maximillian had caused.

Dora paused next to the car to apologize to Mr. Hopkins for leaving without the coat. He took it well, but I'd never met a shopkeeper Isadora couldn't charm. She'd just handed him a calling card and promised to return when movement across the street caught my eye.

The ghosts of sad-eyed children and soldiers, women in fancy dress and laborers in oil-stained coveralls shimmered into view, row upon row lined up along the sidewalk. As intently as they stared, I'd no doubt they'd been waiting for me.

A glance told me that Dora didn't know the spirits were there. They hadn't come for her help; they'd come for mine. I shut their emotions out as best I could, but their anger and sadness over all they'd lost still filled me to bursting. They expected me to bring them rest, justice, and peace.

Most of all, they looked to me for vengeance. From the smallest child to the oldest woman and man, Effie Ladia Fontaine had a hand in their deaths. They hated her and wanted her to suffer as they had, to feel the same pain.

At the back of the throng was the little girl spirit, clutching her bedraggled porcelain doll. Her familiar singsong rhyme filled my head.

Up and down the city streets,

Hunters search for people,

Round them up to steal their souls

And feed them to the weasel.

She binds them with a will of iron,

She binds them in the steeple,

They bleed, they cry, and then they die,

Believing in the weasel

Believing in the weasel

Believing in the weasel.…

“Delia, did you hear me? We're ready to leave.” I looked away, startled, to find Randy peering at me worriedly.

Dora was already settled in the backseat. She leaned so she could see me through the open door, more curious than concerned. “Are you all right?”

The ghosts were gone, including the troublesome little girl spirit. Strong haunts were always difficult to understand, especially ghosts that harbored a great deal of anger and hostility. A part of me wanted to believe that she'd meant to lead me to Effie Fontaine all along, but that kernel of belief was very small and couldn't explain why she'd tried to kill me.

Nothing explained this ghost and her actions. The reasons why she'd sought me out in the first place puzzled me more than ever. I needed to speak with Isadora before drawing any conclusions.

“Yes, I'm fine.” I pulled my coat closed, suddenly chilled. “Let's go home. Gabe will wonder where I am.”

“I almost forgot. Captain Ryan asked me to deliver a message.” Randy offered me a hand into the car. “He'll be home later than planned. The captain is paying a visit to Mr. Sung in Chinatown. He said not to wait supper and not to worry.”

He shut the door and went round to the driver's side. The car jerked away from the curb, and Dora and I traded looks. “Well? What do you think that's about?”