Dark to Mortal Eyes (60 page)

“Yes, dear, your grandfather left you the contents of his safe-deposit box.
Of course, that’s nothing new to you—if you’ve seen the journal—but it’s no wonder that Kara and Marsh abandoned you at birth. They haven’t mentioned the fortune to you, I surmise. Of course, why would they?”

The accusations fought for a hold in Josee’s mind. Was this true?

Trudi caressed her honey-tinted hair. Her face was a mask of powdered wrinkles. “Is it any wonder that Kara’s allowed you back into her life? You’re the key. That’s all you are to her. To be used and tossed away. Quite simply, she sees you as the means of expropriating her fortune.”

The cloth was cutting into Josee’s lips. Duct tape held her hands.

Trudi was toting a wicker picnic basket. She described the family meal they would share together—soup and bread and vintage wine. She pulled an item from within. “Do you recognize this?” She was holding a metal canister.

Josee’s eyes widened. She choked against the cloth in her mouth.

Stahlherz was stunned. Esprit had shielded himself with the thick chess book so that the dagger plunged deep into the heart of the pages. Nevertheless, the force had rocked him back into the marble, where he stumbled into a backdrop of flowers.

Infuriated, Steele Knight arched his arm for another blow.

Behind him, gravel crunched, and a pile driver rammed him into the monument. The dagger struck the bronze description plate. The blade snapped. Caromed back into his own shoulder. Sprayed blood.

A talon … 
You filthy beast, you’ve turned on me!

Stahlherz landed facedown, shook off heavy hands from his back, and twisted to confront his attacker. Dressed in a camouflage jacket, the man was bulky. He was balanced on one knee. Aiming a gun. Across the grass Stahlherz saw a grappling trio of men and realized his recruits were also under siege, unable to come to his aid. An unmarked car skidded into the lot, and a detective hopped out with his weapon trained on the front seat of the Studebaker.

In the aviary, the squawking of birds reflected the afternoon’s burst of activity.

Warm blood. Spilling around the dagger’s tip in Stahlherz’s shoulder.

“Give yourself up,” said the man facing him. “I’m Sergeant Turney, Corvallis Police Department. We’ll getcha some help. Looks like you cut yourself deep.”

Surrender? No, it’s all or nothing!

Stahlherz gripped the blade. With blood spurting from the wound and his hand, he plucked it out and raised it in defense. The pain was nothing; the game was everything. A “spite check,” they called it in chess. His chance to spread the agony.

“Set that down.” The sergeant’s gun was unmoving. “Put ’em up nice and slow.”

Stahlherz wagged the blade at an oozing spot on the sergeant’s jacket. “What happened there? One of my recruits get to you? Or did the beast catch you, too?”

“The beast?”

“Ha! See, I’m not the only susceptible one.”

“These scars? They’re my way of knowin’ when trouble’s around. A reminder.”

“Double the trouble.” Stahlherz chuckled.

“I’ve been sittin’ on the sidelines long enough,” Turney said.

The sidelines … 
The horseman was sliding from the side toward the center. From the muck into the fray … Out of shape as he might be, he seemed determined to do his part
. “You’re the one,” said Stahlherz, shifting to a perched position. “You!”

“Stay still!”

“But you’re the knight, the one on my board. The kid who got in the way years back. This is the cruelest of all jokes. You!”

With his laughter as a cover for his coiling body, Stahlherz planted both feet beneath him. He launched forward, jabbing the bloodied dagger tip at the center of the sergeant’s arm wounds. The hefty man swiveled away so that the blade caught but a sliver of skin as it tore through his sleeve.

The gun in Turney’s hand roared. Amid the acrid scent of detonation, a bullet grazed Stahlherz’s ribs. He growled in torment but used his momentum to spin around and lock one arm around Sergeant Turney’s wide belly, the other around his throat. He pressed the wet and jagged blade to the man’s corpulent neck.

“Drop the gun, or this knife becomes forever one with your vocal cords.”

Turney’s sidearm clattered onto the path.

“Now let’s get to our feet. Easy now.”

Stahlherz dragged the big man to an upright position. He saw the detective in the parking lot with weapon drawn. In the flower bed, Esprit had rolled into a kneeling position, a priest pleading mercy over his parish.

“That’s it, Sarge. Stay in front of me.”

“You’re just askin’ for trouble,” Turney told him. “Best to surrender now.”

“On the contrary. You’re going to make certain I leave this place alive. I don’t know who these other guys are, but I have one move yet to make. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find Marsh and Trudi—to remind them of all they have taken from me.”

“You’re wounded. You need medical attention.”

“Oh no, I’m far beyond that now. Don’t you understand? No more turning back. Walk slowly.” He let the broken and bloodied talon hover at Turney’s throat. “Tell your friends to let us by, or you’ll be tasting metal, even through your double chin.”

Trudi cradled the canister just as Scoot had done in the thicket. She lofted it so that the moon gleamed in its dull surface, a twinkle in the eyes of the skull and crossbones. One finger played over the metal surface, and as though summoned by the warmth, a thin vapor began to twine from the canister’s seam. Trudi moved behind Josee and tugged at the gag. “Josee, you have an assignment to fulfill. I’ll remove this nuisance if you are willing to behave yourself as a young lady. No spitting, agreed?”

Josee nodded her head. Whatever it took to breathe freely.

The gag came off, and Trudi said, “Now, my dear, we come to the point of this entire exercise. You’ve been an important part in a little game stretching back to the end of the Second World War. Your grandfather and I were quite the item, but he saw fit to disentangle himself from me in favor of his homegrown bride. Surely you can empathize. You, too, have been abandoned by one close to you.”

“What’re you talking about?”

Trudi set down the basket. “Why, Scooter, of course.”

Josee wished her hands were free. She’d gladly deliver a blow to this old witch. “Is he here? Is he okay?”

“Don’t you know? Your friend’s still in the hospital after that nasty collision with the motorcycle, driven by one of my recruits, I’m proud to say. Scooter slipped into a coma, according to the last report.”

Josee wanted to challenge the statement, but Trudi’s hands had moved to her neck, encircling her throat, twisting the myrtlewood necklace the nurse had given her. Josee drove her head back against the woman’s collarbone.

Get off me! Stay away!

“You think you can resist me?” Trudi hissed. “Like Scooter has tried to do? He betrayed you. How do you think he knew you would be at the park
today? Minutes before you and I talked on the phone this morning, Scooter called to reveal your location at the Van der Bruegges’. For three days he’s been my pliable servant. Kept tabs on you.”

“Your words mean squat to me.”

Trudi gloated. “He’s been one of mine longer than you think.”

“But he tried to warn me. I heard him there at Avery Park.”

Trudi jeered. “A final act to appease his guilt. No, he’s been dabbling in ICV for over a year, starting with a small cell at the University of Washington. He allowed the venom to take hold in the thicket, gave full access to the serpents in his hospital room. No wonder he recovered so quickly. Even that nurse couldn’t make the choice for him. Give this baby an inch”—she tapped the canister—”and it’ll take a mile. Scooter was a virtual breeding ground for these babies. You’ve been a bit more difficult, I daresay.”

“I’ve had a little help.”

“Help?”

“I’m not alone.” Josee thought of her childhood seed of faith—withered and small but growing. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I’m not one to quit so easily. You’ve still a role to play, a bishop cutting across the board to empty a safe-deposit box. You may have avoided Scooter’s chums, may have dodged the efforts of my coiled friends, but you will not—you
will
not!—leave me empty handed. Not if you have any desire to see your mother and father again. Though I must point out, there’s still some question as to your parentage.”

“Kara already explained to me what happened—”

“Did she now?”

“So I don’t need you to try messing with my head, you got that?”

“You’re ready to cooperate then?”

“What’re you gonna do to Marsh and Kara?”

“Nothing. Yet. Their fates rest entirely upon you.”

Trudi’s cell phone chimed. She answered in a husky voice. “Hello, Marsh. Do you see your bride? As you may’ve noticed, yes, she’s a bit weakened by hunger and inactivity, in need of a bath, but healthy nonetheless. For the time being. Are you ready to make the exchange?”

The big man coughed. “It’s okay, boys. Back off. Just let us on through.”

“Sarge, we can—”

“Just let us pass through.”

“And,” Stahlherz instructed, “tell them to remove the keys from their car and from the Studebaker, then throw them out into that tall grass over the fence.” He knew they could be tailed with a call from the detective’s radio, but all he needed was to buy a few minutes.
By then, this bird will’ve flown the coop
.

Turney parroted the order to the detective. The blade’s pressure encouraged compliance, despite the detective’s look of disgust. Keys disappeared into thick grass.

“God, I’ve let them down,” the sergeant muttered. “I can’t do this on my own.”

“Too late for prayers, my friend. Get moving, and don’t pretend to be a hero.”

“Couldn’t be one if I tried.” The defeat was evident in Sergeant Turney’s voice.

“Yeah, I see her,” Marsh said into the phone. From the edge of the trees, he scanned the beach for a clue to Trudi’s position. “But where are you?”

“That’s inconsequential.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to deliver the journal to me. For years I’ve looked high and low. Black Butte, the manor, the beach house, Depoe Bay. Where was it, if I may ask?”

“That’s inconsequential.”

“Touché.”

“So where do we go from here? Let’s get this over with.”

“First, you provide me the journal with the key and the bank information. If you go to your dear wife beforehand, you’ll be shot by those hiding in the woods.”

“What about Josee?” Marsh stood motionless, eyes searching the trees.

“She has a bank errand to run.”

“I want you to release her as well.”

“You know I can’t do that. Without her, the bank manager will never provide access to the safe-deposit box. It’s just about five, Marsh, only an hour left. We don’t have time to make a court case of this. What do you propose?”

“Here’s the deal. Josee takes the key and goes with one of your cohorts to fetch the contents of the box. It’s not far from here, I’ll let you know that much. Kara and I’ll join you. Once Josee reaches the bank, she calls, I provide the correct box numbers, then we all wait for her to return.”