The Sorcerer's House (28 page)

I have lived in this house for weeks now, but in all that time I have done little more than observe. This morning I resolved to do much more. I shall investigate. I am determined to make myself the master of this house in fact as well as in name. I began by reviewing my earliest experiences here. I have a scholar's memory, Millie. That can be a curse, but it can be a blessing as well.

Very quickly I hit upon Jake. I had asked Doris about Mr. Black's first name, and she had indicated that "Jake" had known it. I telephoned her and asked whether it would be possible for me to speak with Jake.

It was soon arranged. Jake would be most happy to buy Doris and the owner of the Skotos Strip dinner that night. It reminded me that I had promised to join Officer Finn and her mother for lunch. I was washing and shaving when my cell telephone chimed.

"Mr. Dunn? It's Cathy Ruth. I'm in the neighborhood and I have something that belongs to you. Can I drop by and return it?"

"As it happens," I told her, "I must join someone for lunch at noon. Could you give me a ride over? I was planning to walk, but not looking forward to it. A house on Walnut."

"Why, I'd be delighted to, Mr. Dunn. I'll be there right away."

I had supposed that right away would be twenty minutes or more, but apparently the fine old phrase has a different meaning for reporters. She was knocking at my front door in less than half that, was escorted into the living room by old Nick and his little terrier, and was left to cool her heels while I finished dressing.

Dressed, I welcomed her and received the possession I had expected--a note presumably written by the late owner of my antique pistols, Alexander Skotos.

"This gives me a perfectly grand chance to ask you about ghosts and strange happenings, Mr. Dunn. What can you tell me?"

"Very little I'm afraid. There have been no strange happenings in the house lately, but there are a couple of areas I want to look into. One is the trunk strapped to the car. I found an old car in the garage, you see, and I have a locksmith coming."

"Let me know what was in there if you find anything, okay?"

I nodded. "I certainly will. The other area is the cellar."

"O-o-o!" Her eyes went wide.

"I've been thinking of doing that. Midnight would be the best time, wouldn't you say?"

"Midnight tonight?" She was clearly eager.

"Yes, tonight, assuming that you can make it tonight."

"You're serious, Mr. Dunn?"

"Entirely. You'd better wear old clothes--I would imagine there will be a good deal of dust." I was careful not to mention to her (although I will tell
you
, Millie) that Nick had already been down there, knew about the furnace, and had gotten a washer and dryer installed there.

"I'll be here. Say eleven thirty or so?"

"Sounds good. I'm going out to dinner, but I should be home by then. Bring a large flashlight. Even if there are lights down there--which I doubt--we'll have to find the switches."

Cathy agreed, and drove me to eight eleven Walnut for my luncheon date with Kate Finn.

The Finn house was a modest bungalow, which was what I had expected, but homelike, neat, and clean. A smiling, gray-haired woman
opened the door for me. "Mr. Dunn? I'm Biddy Finn." Seeing my surprise, she added, "It's really Bridget, but everybody calls me Biddy and I hope you will, too."

"I'm George J. Dunn's brother, Biddy, and he's the only Mr. Dunn as far as the family's concerned. Please call me Bax."

"I will. Oh, I will! Please come in. I see your face is still a little swollen."

"And my jaw's still a bit sore, but neither is really troublesome. Doris Griffin--she was there as well--got an ice pack for me at some drugstore, and I was able to keep it on my face now and then. How's your daughter?"

"A little worse, I'm afraid. She's in the kitchen making donuts. Do you care for homemade donuts?"

I smiled. "You know, I don't think I've ever had any."

"You will. They're Kate's specialty." For a moment Biddy looked stricken. "Mine's lobster salad. You don't object to lobster, I hope? So many people are allergic to shellfish.

"I love shellfish. Lobster particularly."

"That's wonderful! Please sit down. Kate will be here in a moment. It will be a very simple lunch. But good, I hope. Soup, sandwiches, salad, and Kate's donuts."

"My mouth's watering already."

"Well, it won't be gourmet food, but--"

Kate had come in. "Hi, Bax! How are you feeling?" The bruises on her face were very apparent, and for the first time since he had struck her I was truly angry with George.

I rose. "Much better than you do, Kate, I'm sure."

"I know how hideous I look. You've got to make allowances."

"You look like a most attractive young woman who's been brutally assaulted. If George were here, I'd be tempted to kick him."

Biddy asked, "Does he beat his wife?"

It was something I had never even considered and took me aback. "To the best of my knowledge, no. No, I--well I'm sure he doesn't. Millie would have told me."

"Half the time, wives don't."

"I'd never even considered the possibility. George isn't--or I never thought he was . . ."

Kate said, "My donuts are cooling, and everything else is ready. What do you say we go in?"

I had expected vegetable; but the soup was oxtail, with sherry stirred into it just before serving. I could have made a meal of that and I told them so.

"It's was Ray's favorite." Biddy smiled, happy to be reminded of better times. "Ray was my husband."

"I think I saw his picture in the living room."

"He was a sergeant, two years from retirement when he passed on, Mr. Dunn. We were going to take a cruise. I'd never been on one. You're not married, Mr. Dunn?"

"No woman has ever been foolish enough, Biddy, and I thought we'd agreed upon Bax."

Kate giggled. I had never heard a police officer giggle before, Millie, but I heard one then.

Biddy said, "Only if you promise that you'll always call me Biddy."

"I will, Biddy." I raised my right hand.

"In that case, Bax, I know you'll tell me the truth. Why would woman be a fool to marry you?"

"I will, but not all of it. I'm afraid you'll have to be satisfied with one good reason. I'm closemouthed. No woman wants a closemouthed man."

"The more fools they. Do you drink, Bax?"

I had been expecting that and shook my head. "I used to. I've given it up."

"How long has it been?"

I considered. "Three years and ten months now. Almost eleven."

"That sounds rather permanent, and you have to call me Biddy."

"It is, Biddy."

"What about gambling? Cards? Dice?"

"Horses. And the answer's the same. I used to, but I gave it up. In that case, I gave it up because I had to. I ran out of money. Later when I'd gotten more, I realized that if I began again I'd lose it--that in the long term, my chance of coming out ahead was zero. So I stopped."

"Roulette?" Kate asked. "Did you go to casinos?"

"No. Only to racetracks."

"Kate," Biddy said firmly, "has no bad habits."

"Oh, Mom!"

"Well, you don't, Katie."

"I do so! I squeeze the toothpaste in the middle. The floor of my room's paved with magazines. I put things off. I--well, lots more."

Curious, I asked whether curiosity was a bad habit.

"Not in a cop, Bax."

"Then perhaps I ought to become one. I'm curious about my house, you see. You and I talked about it a bit when you gave me a lift home. I realize that Mr. Black, who used to own it, has been gone for some time. But I'm not at all sure how long that time has been. Do either of you have any idea?"

"Since I was a little kid," Kate said.

"That cannot have been very long, surely."

"Well, I'm twenty-four, and I'm pretty sure the Black House was already empty when I was ten."

Biddy made a small sound that might have been a cough. "I've seen him since then, Kate. I know I did."

At that moment, Millie, I knew how a hound must feel when it catches the scent. I said, "You've seen him? Why this is delightful! Do you know, Biddy, you're the first person I've found who has? What did he look like?"

"You sound as if you think he's dead, Mr. Dunn." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, there I go! Bax, I mean."

"I suppose I must. It's just that everyone talks as if he's dead. You don't believe he is?"

"I saw him in some store just a few years ago. He was alive and looked well."

Kate fidgeted. "I think you must've mistaken somebody else for him, Mom."

"Well, I don't. I told Mr. Dunn--"

I interrupted. "Please call me Bax, Biddy, and tell me what he looked like."

"Well, he's small, not a whole lot taller than I am, and has a big nose. One of those noses that look like you could split firewood with it. Do you know what I mean?"

"I believe I do."

"Wavy hair--towhead going gray--and rather a pale complexion, I believe. Snapping black eyes."

Kate said, "Blonds almost never have dark eyes, Mom."

"Well, he might bleach it. I see brown-eyed blonds all the time."

I said, "I've seen blond men with dark eyes, I feel sure. Not many, but a few. How did you know the man you were seeing was Mr. Black?"

"Because I remembered him from when he lived in the Black House, that's all. People use to point him out."

"Have you ever spoken to him? Did he ever speak to you?"

Biddy shook her head. "No, I just saw him in this store. There was a woman with him, and they were buying something. I've seen her around town, but I don't know her name."

"I see. I wish I knew where he is now. I'd like very much to talk with him."

Biddy hesitated. "I could call you if I ever see him again."

Kate said, "Have you seen the woman since then? Can you describe her? I think that's what Bax is getting at."

"I think so. Wait a minute. She was wearing a charcoal-gray dress, I'm sure. High heels. I remember those because I noticed she looked a little bit taller than he did and looked at her shoes. She'd have been about his height in flats."

"She's probably changed her dress by this time."

"Don't be sarcastic, Kate. I was trying to remember how she looked, and the first thing I remembered was that dress. Charcoal-gray and very plain, but it looked like good wool. Brown hair a little shorter than mine. Too much lipstick."

"Oh, Mom!"

"Well, it was. She was quite an attractive woman, though. Stylish. She had a good figure. I'm a bit too stout, and I know it. She wasn't."

I said, "Please try to guess her age. It doesn't have to be exact."

"Younger than I am, but older than Kate. About your age, Mr. Dunn,
or a little older than that. Younger than Mr. Black, though. How old are you?"

"Forty-one. How old would you say he was?"

"I really don't know, but at least fifty. He could be older. He's one of those small, active men. They . . ." She snapped her fingers.

Kate said, "What is it?"

"I just remembered where I saw him. What store they were in. It was in that store where they sell footballs and helmets. All Sorts, or something like that?"

I asked, "Could it be All Sports?"

Kate nodded, and Biddy said, "That's it. Kate had run out of gun-cleaner. She's got to go to the range twice a year. Ray used to do it, too."

"We put forty rounds through our Glocks," Kate told me. "Slow fire, rapid fire, one-handed right and one-handed left, ten rounds each way. That's how we qualify. A bull's-eye is ten, and your score has to be three hundred or better."

"She had asked me to pick her up some, so I was in there waiting for the man to wait on me. He was busy with Mr. Black. Could they make a special gunpowder for him?"

I shook my head. "I doubt it very much."

"Well, they kept talking about Black powder."

The pistols Alexander Skotos left me use black powder, Millie; and when I heard that, I felt sure that Skotos was Mr. Black, something that I have suspected almost from the beginning. I felt--I still feel--like Sherlock Holmes. I have bought a little notebook, and another pen as well. When I got home I made notes on my conversation with Kate and Biddy.

And now I must do this and that, and prepare for dinner with Doris and Jake.

Forever your loving friend,

Bax