The Sorcerer's House (36 page)

I did.

"Read it more slowly, so that you may hear it."

I read it a second time, read it as if I were trying to memorize it. Which I was, Millie.

"Your brother struck you, and struck the woman."

I said, "Yes."

"You will find him when you and the woman he struck join forces. Not before."

We went home after that. The thing that I remember most about our walk back is the sun rising veiled in mist, a dull crimson disk coming out of the sea into a white sky.

I telephoned Kate Finn as soon as we returned. I had not said much when she suggested that we meet for lunch, saying she wanted to talk to me face to face. Since it was nearly noon by then I agreed, suggesting the Medicine Man Diner, only a short walk from my house.

We got a booth in a quiet corner, exchanged the usual pleasantries, and ordered.

"Now then," Kate said. "Let me get this straight. You want to hire me while I'm on leave?"

"Correct. Police officers often earn extra money by working while they're off duty. Security at rock concerts. All that sort of thing. You must be aware of it."

She nodded.

"I want you to help me find my brother. There can't be anything illegal about that, surely. I believe he's somewhere in my house. It's a big house, and I want you to help me search it."

"Hiding in your house."

"He may be hiding. Or he may not. I don't know."

"He came to live with you when he got out?"

I shook my head. "He went back to the Hilton. He'd taken a room there."

"He's not back there now?"

I shook my head again. "I telephoned them. He's checked out."

"He's probably gone back home."

I did not want to mention the note I had read to the lion-headed man, so I simply said that I did not think so. "He's supposed to stay in town."

"Right. In the jurisdiction. You know that, and I know that, and he knows that. But that doesn't mean he did it. Maybe he figures he can go home, get a lawyer, and fight extradition."

"In that case we won't find him--"

"No. In that case we will, because I'm going to get somebody at headquarters to ask your department to check on him for us. He could be back in jail, too. Did you think of that?"

"I should have. But no, I didn't."

She got out her cell phone while the waitress brought our sandwiches and French fries.

When she hung up, she said, "They haven't got him."

I said I was not surprised.

"I hate to let this get cold, but I'm calling headquarters."

When she had gotten through to a Sergeant Eastman she said, "There's a guy named George Dunn. We booked him for assault and resisting arrest. He got out on bail Tuesday?"

She had looked her question at me. I nodded.

"Yeah, Tuesday, and he seems to have skipped. Have a look around."

She put away her cell phone, and I said, "You didn't tell him to find out whether George had gone home."

"I didn't have to. He knows what to do. You're talking to me because this Japanese guy told you to?"

"That's correct. I have a Japanese friend. I told her what had happened, and she said that I ought to talk to this man. I did, and he said that the way to find George was to get you to help me search. I saw the wisdom of it and called you when I got home. I'll pay you two hundred dollars a day, starting today." I got out my wallet and laid four fifty-dollar bills on the table.

She picked them up, folded them over once, and put them into her purse. "Tell me again about the last time you saw him. The old car. You talked about it on the phone."

"There was an antique car in the garage when I got the house.
I don't have a title, but I assume it's mine--that it goes with the house."

"Sure. You can get one."

"I had an expert refurbish it. AAAA Autos of the World?"

Kate nodded. "I know them. Seems like a good outfit."

"They did a fine job, but they couldn't get into the trunk. I called a locksmith who promised to come over and open it without damaging it. As it happened, I was away from home when he came, but my houseman showed him the car. He picked the lock, but did not open the trunk. I suppose he was afraid I would accuse him of taking something from it. You look thoughtful."

"I am. You're an ex-con."

"Correct. I didn't know you knew."

"I checked up on you." Kate smiled. "Mom wants me to marry you."

"Really?"

"She keeps talking about how nice you are. And you are nice, but you're an ex-con and I tell her that to shut her up. You're an ex-con, first conviction, fraud. You've been out less than six months, and you've got a houseman."

"Yes. I do."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"No. You would begin investigating me. You would find nothing illegal, nor would you find George."

She laughed. "I'm not trying to snap the cuffs on you, Bax. What would Mom say? Let's hear more about the trunk."

"I returned home. George came. I think he had gone to his hotel room after he was released. Then he came to my house."

"Sure. Shower and clean clothes."

"We were standing outside when he heard something in the trunk--something moving around, he said. He opened it, and a man stepped out of it, a very tall, very thin man dressed in black. He said he was Nicholas, the butler, and went into my house. George pursued him. I haven't seen him since."

"This was at night?"

I nodded.

"Was the house well lit?"

"No. There were a few lights. Not many."

"Had you ever seen the man who got out of your trunk before? Don't answer straight off. Think."

"Absolutely not."

"Nowhere? Never? Describe his face."

"It was horrible, almost like a skull. Sunken cheeks. Big teeth showing through thin lips. White, as white as bone."

"Could it have been a mask? It sounds like one."

I considered. "Yes, it could have been. I don't believe it was."

"Uh-huh. Nicholas the Butler is a local legend. It sounds to me like somebody got dressed up as him and hid in your trunk after the locksmith opened it, then made noise so you'd let him out. Let's forget about that and worry about finding George. You think he's still in your house?"

"Yes. I do."

"Then we'll find him."

We searched, Millie, but we did not find George. Nor did we find Nicholas the Butler. We found a great many rooms, with and without furniture. There was a studio, a conservatory, a study, a workshop, a sunroom, two dressing rooms, a rather startling laboratory, and many more, most of which we could not identify.

But no George.

In the attic, I showed Kate (a Kate who was already stunned) Goldwurm's Spire. She said there was no such tower, and seemed to think the window glass a television or something of the sort. Together we opened the window. (It had been painted shut and took a good deal of effort.) The spire remained.

"I never saw anything like this," she said, "and I never expected to."

"There is a young man named Ieuan who used to go around breaking windows in this house," I told her. "He knew the windows would be boarded up, you see, and he didn't want anyone to see what these windows sometimes reveal."

"I think he was right," Kate told me. "If this gets out, somebody will burn down the house."

"You know, I hadn't thought of that."

"I won't tell anybody. Not even if you ask me to."

"It's bad luck to see the sea serpent," I said.

"I don't get that. In the river?"

"No, just a nineteenth-century saying. A captain who noted the sea serpent in his log had a hard time getting another command."

"Yeah." She nodded. "The old guys tell me every cop sees things he'd better not report. Same deal. Who's Goldwurm?"

"A warlock. It seems to mean a criminal sorcerer, one whose word cannot be trusted."

"I don't think I'd trust any of them."

"Nor would I. Emlyn--he's Ieuan's brother--told me that Goldwurm murdered his old master, a sorcerer called Ambrosius. I seem to have his ring." I showed it to her.

"That's a nice stone."

"Thank you. It frightened my mother at first. She had known Ambrosius, and I think she must have liked him. He was a business rival of my father's when she and my father lived in this house. A friendly rival apparently."

We shut the window and went back downstairs. I showed Kate my car, and we had a look inside the trunk that had held Nicholas the Butler. After that, she called police headquarters.

"They've got him!" She gave me a broad grin. "Picked him up on the street. How about if I use some of your two hundred to buy you dinner?"

So you see, Millie, Winker was right to take me to the lion-headed man, and the lion-headed man himself was right when he counseled me to combine forces with Kate. George has been found and is safe in jail.

Which means that I myself am safe. Or at least safer. For the time being.

Forever your loving friend,

Bax

Hey, Prof!

I think you are worrying way too much about this duel thing. It is not coming off. That is my guess. To start with, I do not believe your brother is going to challenge you. In the second place, you can call the cops if he does. I would not do that with my record, but you could get away with it.

And in the third place, you can tell him to go to hell.

None of that makes you feel any better if I know you, and if I do not who does? Answer that one.

So okay. He challenges you, and you figure you had better fight because he's going to off you if you do not. You are doing the right thing by practicing. Here is three things you have got to take seriously in a nice list.

1. Your gun has got to say bang every time you pull the trigger. You know about that already, but I said it again anyway and what if his does not? Suppose there was a little dirt in the hole? You would not have to kill him, just shoot him in the leg or something. Why not?

2. Just about every gunfight is ten yards or under. So that is what you need to practice. Can you shoot fast and hit one of those targets with some guy's picture on it? That is what you need to do. Hold your gun tight, lay that front sight on him, and squeeze the trigger fast. If your trigger pull is pulling your sight off him, you are doing it wrong. Straight back, Bax, and a fast squeeze not a jerk. There is already a jerk on the other end. Two is too many.

3. Bad light. You go out to the range, and usually it is bright sunlight. Nobody can do it with no light at all. If it is pitch dark you got to have a flash, but he will shoot at it, so do not hold it in front of you. Mostly you can see but not very good. Practice like that. If the front sight does not show up, use the end of the barrel.

So fine. Now here is more. Cheat.

Hell, I cheat at Ping-Pong every chance I get. This is
your life
. He gets his gun and you get yours? He's going to shoot you, so shoot back first.

Only I do not think any of it will really come off. Take it easy. Be cool.

Sheldon Hawes