KISS THE WITCH (21 page)

“
Same raincoat, maybe. Not
the same man. Look. Snow has fifty pounds and six inches over this
guy. You should know that, Carlos. You stood right next to him.
He’s as tall as you are. This guy’s no bigger than
Dominic.”

“
Tony, it all happened so
fast.”

“
I understand
that.”

Spinelli said, “He sent the poor bastard out
to start his car. He must have known it was booby trapped.”

“
Is anyone checking dental
records to verify the charred body in the Hummer was
Snow’s?”

“
Negative,” said Spinelli.
“The Feds swooped in right after you left and took everything. I
mean they even swept the ashes off the street and took
that.”

“
No. This ain’t right,” I
said. “If this was a Federal case, then someone from the Bureau
would have come and told us to back off. Why is it no one from the
U.S. government has done that?”

“
I think they have,” said
Carlos. “You didn’t get the message after that helicopter gunship
nearly blasted us off the docks?”

I got up from my desk and started across the
room. Carlos called out, “Where you going?”

“
Back to Leonard Dwyer’s
house.”

“
The roommate? What do you
think you’ll find there?”

“
Don’t know. I just want
to look around some. Maybe there’s something we’re
missing.”

“
What about
me?”

“
You stay here with
Dominic. See what you two can find on Howard Snow that we missed.
Check everything this time, past known addresses, former employers,
everything. Maybe somebody is helping him. And check his passport
records. If he has been out of the country lately, find out where
he went, and then check flight departures to those
places.”

I knew Carlos would not be a big help to
Spinelli in finding more on Snow. But I wanted some alone time to
think about my home situation the last few days. I know nothing in
the past could ever compare to the enrichment Lilith brings to my
life. Sure, I often complain to Carlos and Spinelli about her, how
aggravated I get with her sometimes. I imagine they must think she
makes my life miserable beyond tolerance. The reality, of course,
is that nothing could be further from the truth. I love Lilith. She
completes me. Life with her is a never-ending amusement ride filled
with excitement. And in her weird, noncommittal way, I know she
loves me, too. Yet, for the life of me, I cannot understand why
these curious feelings for Ursula remain.

Carlos once suggested Ursula represents the
side of Lilith I rarely see, but know is there. He explained it as
the sweet and sour theory, the hot and cold, yin and yang effect.
‘The dualistic cosmology completes the balance you seek in a
woman,’ he told me. Where he comes up with this shit, I will never
know. But I suspect he is right. If Lilith is fire, Ursula is ice.
Together they comprise a temperate ease suitable for existential
harmony. I want them both, but can have just one. Something I need
to accept.

As I drove down Monroe Street, I noticed a
suspicious vehicle in my rearview mirror. It was not the sedan from
earlier, but it did have similar tinting on the windows and
displayed a conspicuous manner of evasive maneuvers designed to
blend in with traffic. It looked like just the driver this time,
perhaps having split with his partner to watch both Carlos and me.
I imagined he probably followed me since leaving the precinct, but
I was too wrapped up in thought to notice. By then it was too late
to call for backup. I proceeded as if I didn’t suspect a thing,
pulling to the curb in front of Leonard Dwyer’s home and getting
out without looking at him.

He stopped at the corner, tucking the front
of his car in behind a white van and leaving the back end sticking
halfway out into the street. Clearly, he did not expect me to pull
over, making me wonder if he even knew whose house I had stopped
at.

I shoved my keys into my pocket and started
up the walkway to the house. Next door, a neighbor watering her
flowerbed followed me with a watchful eye. I waved to her, smiling.
She turned abruptly, pretending not to notice. I stopped.

“
Excuse me.
Ma'am?”

She stepped away from the property line and
began spraying the rose bushes along the side of the house. I tried
again, this time presenting my badge.

“
Hello, ma`am. Excuse
me.”

She looked over at me, squinting for the sun
in her eyes. I held up my badge. “I’m Detective Marcella from the
Second Precinct downtown. Do you have a moment?”

She shook her head. “I already told the man
everything I know.”

I walked to the edge of the property. “What
man was that, ma`am?”

“
I don’t know. Some cop.”
She gestured at my appearance. “Plain clothes. Like
you.”

“
Did he say who he was
with?”

“
What, don’t you people
talk to each other? How should I know who he was with?”

“
Did he show you a badge?
Like this?” I held mine up again.

She dismissed it. “I don’t remember. Doesn’t
matter. Told him I didn’t know anything. Same thing I’m telling
you.”

“
Ma`am. Can you tell me
about Mr. Dwyer? When was the last time you saw him?”

“
The last time I saw him?”
She sighed. “Poor Mister Dwyer. The last time I saw him is when he
ran out to that car right before it blew up. Now if you’ll excuse
me.” She turned the garden hose off and pitched it to the ground.
“I have something cooking on the stove.”

I watched her hurry away. Frightened, I
thought, but I suppose I could not blame her.

I turned back and headed toward the house.
The car that tailed me was still semi-hidden behind the white van.
Its driver now standing outside, leaning against the rear quarter
panel. If he thought I would not notice him, he had another thing
coming. I have seen late-day shadows follow less conspicuously.

The front door to Dwyer’s house was
unlocked, so after knocking a few times for the neighbor’s benefit,
I let myself in. My friend, the tail, made his move the moment the
screen door hit my heels. I peeled the curtains back from the
window just enough to spy him hurrying up the walkway. He started
up the steps, reached into his jacket and pulled a Glock 9 from his
shoulder holster. I faded back behind the door and drew my .38.

The screen door opened, its rusted spring
croaking against the pull. He planted his foot at the bottom of the
door to keep it from slamming shut. My thumb dropped, disengaging
the safety on my piece. The knob turned. He pushed. The door moaned
in protest, but opened a full ninety degrees.

I saw the Glock come in first. He followed.
One arm rigid, the other bent at the elbow, left hand supporting
his right. The screen door came to rest on the jamb. He had passed
the threshold. I crossed my arms at my chest and pressed my back to
the wall, making myself as skinny as possible. He pushed again on
the door. It swung back under similar protest, coming to rest
against the tips of my shoes. Across the room, a grandfather clock
chimed the eleven o’clock hour. He waited until it fell silent
before continuing, his footfall muffled by the welcome mat. Beyond
the entry, varnished wooden floorboards awaited. They would tell me
when he was all the way in.

He cleared his throat. Swallowed. Another
muffled footstep followed. The next step sounded like hard rubber
on wood. I thought of Lilith’s shadow spell and what a good
diversion it might make. I remembered how she did it. Made it look
easy. Told me I could do it, too. I just needed to try. In my mind,
I pictured what it should look like. The bigger the better. Give
him something to think about. I turned my wrist and flicked my
fingers, concentrating on the phantom I wanted to conjure. Across
the room, a dark silhouette appeared on the wall. It looked like
grizzly bear wearing a top hat. Funny for me, but I know it scared
the bejesus out of him, especially when it scattered like splinters
across the wall. I could not hold it together. But I did not have
to. The intruder let out an audible gasp, swung his Glock around
and fired. The bullet shattered a lamp and lodged in the head
cushion of an easy chair. I took my cue from that and pushed on the
front door. It slammed shut like another gunshot. He whirled about
on his heels, his weapon lagging the twist of his body. I reeled
back and cracked him on the face with the butt of my gun, sending
him to the floor in a spiral of spitting blood. Once down, I kicked
the Glock from his hand and drew my weapon on him.

“
Freeze. NCPD.”

I love saying that.

He rolled onto his knees and attempted to
stand. I placed my foot against his ribcage and shoved him back
down. “I said freeze, maggot. Now who are you?”

He held his hands to his jaw and nose. Blood
oozed through the spread in his fingers. His eyes blinked in tight
exaggeration for the sting, but he did his best to keep them
open.

“
Don’t shoot. I’m a
government agent.”

“
F.B.I?”

“
CICU.”

“
CICU. What’s
that?”

“
Criminal Investigation
Command Underground. We’re a sub-branch of CID under the Department
of Defense.”

“
Never heard of
it.”

He laughed at that, forcing a squirt of
blood past the web of his thumb and up the side of his cheek. “Of
course you never heard of it. That’s the whole idea, asshole. We’re
underground.”

“
Why are you following
me?”

He reached for my hand. “Help me up.”

I grabbed a pillow off the couch and offered
him a corner. He took a seat on the couch and wiped his bloody nose
on the pillow.

“
I’ll ask you again. Why
are you following me?”

“
We’re looking for Snow. I
know you’re looking for him, too. I was hoping you might lead me to
him.”

“
Snow is dead.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“
What do you mean? Are you
trying to kill him?”

“
No. We want him
alive.”

“
Is that why you tried to
blow him up in his car?”

Again, he shook his head, this time sending
drops of blood in a splatter pattern against the back of the couch.
“That wasn’t us. We don’t kill Americans.”

“
Who was it
then?”

“
Nobody. That bomb was
Howard Snow’s doing.”

I gave him a disbelieving scowl. “Why would
Snow kill his best friend?”

The agent scoffed at my naiveté. “He’s
covering his tracks. The explosion was a diversion. He wants us to
think he’s dead. We found evidence of the stolen documents among
the ashes. He destroyed everything.”

“
The QE647
documents?”

“
The documents. The flash
drives. Everything. He wants us to believe that he and all the
research materials were lost in the blast.”

“
So you would stop looking
for him.”

“
Exactly. The man is a
genius. He does not need those documents. He has everything he
needs in his head. He can replicate the entire project
anytime.”

“
But why? What has he to
gain?”

“
Are you kidding? Do you
know what QE647 is?”

“
I know it’s not a corn
syrup substitute.”

“
Then you should know
there are governments out there willing to pay millions for what he
knows, perhaps billions.”

“
That’s why you want to
find him, isn’t it. Not because he committed a crime. You want to
keep other governments from getting their hands on the
compound”

“
Detective, Howard Snow is
a national security risk. My department has every resource at its
disposal dedicated to finding him.”

“
Why not tell us then? Why
threaten my partner and me with a helicopter gunship?”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t us.”

“
Come again?”

“
At the docks?”

“
Yes.”

“
That wasn’t us. We didn’t
have anyone watching you before now.”

“
Who was it?”

“
We’re not
sure.”

“
That was your car we
chased, wasn’t it? We tracked the license plates to the Department
of Agriculture. Don’t you boys use them to hide your dirty
work?”

“
Yes we do, and no, that
wasn’t us.” He pulled his hand away from his face and a splash of
blood dropped from his nose onto his lap. “Shit. I think you broke
it.”

“
Get over it.”

He rocked his head back against the cushion
and pinched his nostrils shut. “That was our car all right, but it
was stolen an hour before you gave chase to it.”

“
Nice. So you have no idea
who else is looking for Howard Snow.”

“
We have some
ideas.”

“
Care to share them with
me?”

“
Forget it. As far as
you’re concerned, I’m not even here right now.”

I stepped back and looked down at my feet.
Small pools of blood on the floor were already beginning to
coagulate around the edges. “Really? Funny, `cause that’s not my
blood down there.”

“
Look, Detective.” He let
go of his nose and sniffed back a thin trail of blood gathering on
his upper lip. “We swept this house thoroughly, top to bottom.
There is no sign of Snow ever being here. He covered his tracks
completely.”