Vieux Carré Voodoo (13 page)

I remembered the bankbook in Levi’s drawer.

“And Ben Garrett bought property here in New Orleans,” Colin
went on. “Several buildings here in the Quarter. No mortgages, just bought them
outright. Now, where did they both get the money from?”

“Someone hired them to steal it?” Mom mused. “Paid them some
of the money up front, the rest on delivery? And they never delivered
it…probably because after Matt was murdered in Vietnam they got scared and went
into hiding.”

“So it may not be just the Pleshiwarians who are looking for
them.” Colin’s voice was grim. “There’s someone else, an unknown factor.”

“And now all three of them are dead,” I breathed. “And no
one knows where the Eye is. They took the secret with them to the grave.”

Colin looked at me, his eyebrows going up. “How did you know
Marty Gretsch is dead?”

“I’m psychic, remember?” I replied sarcastically.

He looked at Mom. “I thought you said he didn’t have the
gift anymore?”

“Mom!”
I glared at her.

She shrugged. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“It’s none of his business,” I said, my teeth clenched. “And
besides, it seems to be coming back. I had a vision this afternoon.” I glared at
Colin. “And no, I didn’t know Marty Gretsch was dead because of the gift.” I
swallowed. “His grandson hired me this afternoon to find Ben Moon, and—”

Colin interrupted me. “That’s impossible.”

“I am a private eye, after all.” I snapped. “I may not work
for a huge international investigation corporation—one that occasionally stoops
to killing people, I might add—but it is my job.”

Colin sighed. “Will you stop being so defensive? It’s
impossible because Marty Gretsch only has one grandson, and that child is only
twelve years old.”

THREE OF WANDS

There is a tendency to scatter one’s energies

I thought about it for a moment. I only had my client’s word
that he was actually Levi Gretsch. I hadn’t asked for ID or anything, but maybe
Millie and Velma had. The bankbook, though, had been in that name. I found it
hard to believe the Whitney Bank would have allowed him to open an account
without any identification.

But of course, identification could be forged, and I somehow
doubted the new accounts clerk at any bank branch would be trained to spot fake
papers.

“He came downstairs and hired me to find someone named
Moonie,” I went on, deciding not to say anything about the bankbook, or
searching his apartment. “He had a letter from his grandfather, and a picture
taken in Vietnam of three GIs. On the back of the photo were written the names
Marty, Mattie, and Moonie. The letter didn’t give any names…it just said one of
them died over there, and the other lived in New Orleans and was called Moonie.
It also said that Moonie had ‘what they were looking for.’” I frowned. “If this
guy wasn’t Levi Gretsch, how did he get the letter?”

“Maybe he was the one who killed Marty Gretsch,” Colin said,
his face grim. “Maybe all Marty would tell him was that Moonie had it, and he
lived in New Orleans.” He started pacing. “Yes, that makes sense. So, after
Marty died, he came here and pretended to be Marty’s grandson, as a cover. It
would work—no one here would doubt his story. They’d have no reason to.” He
shrugged. “People here tend to take strangers at their word.”

“Yes, they do,” I heard myself saying. Mom gave me a dirty
look, and I was sorry I’d said it.

Colin had the decency to blush. “So, he comes here
pretending to be Levi and starts looking around for Moonie. He doesn’t have any
luck, so he decides to hire you to find Moonie for him.”

“If that’s true, then he didn’t kill Doc.” I thought about
it for a moment. “Because I didn’t know Moonie was Doc until after he was
already dead—and I still haven’t told Levi.” I explained how I’d found the
picture of Doc in his military uniform on the floor and recognized him from the
picture Levi had. “Venus and I went back to my house to talk to him about it,
but he wasn’t there. But the gate was open—”

“The gate was open?” Mom interrupted me. “That’s very
weird.”

“I know, Mom, it worried me.” Mom was well aware of Millie
and Velma’s fixation on security. “Levi’s apartment door was open, but he wasn’t
there. Venus seemed to think he may have just gone out or something and forgot
to lock his door, or thought he had and it hadn’t caught, or something like
that. I didn’t have a really good feeling about it.”

“I don’t like the sound of this at all.” Colin’s voice was
grim. “What else did he tell you?”

“He told me his mother went to school with Millie—”

“That can’t be true,” Mom interrupted. She’d gone to McGehee
with Velma; they’d been classmates. Millie had also gone to McGehee, but was a
few years ahead of them. “If the child of someone we went to school with had
moved into Millie’s building, she would have told me. He’s been here for about a
month, and I have met him a few times over there. Millie never said a word about
him being the son of one of our classmates. Why would he tell you that? It’s a
stupid lie, because surely you could verify that with Millie or Velma.”

“Maybe Millie just forgot to tell you, Mom,” I replied, but
had trouble believing it myself. It wasn’t like Millie. She’d been active in the
McGehee alumni association. She was proud of having gone there—as opposed to my
mother, who considered it a disgraceful symbol of her overprivileged upbringing.
If the grandchild of someone she’d gone to school with had moved in upstairs
from her, Millie would have told everyone about it.

And even more to the point, it
had
to be a lie. If
Levi’s grandmother had been from New Orleans, as he’d claimed, then he had
family
here. It was possible he might not know his New Orleans relatives—but Millie
would have. She would have access to records through her involvement with the
alumni association. “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know about it?” I went on,
but the words sounded hollow to me. “Maybe he asked Millie not to say anything?”

“Even if he had, it wouldn’t matter to her,” Mom pointed
out. She was right. Millie wasn’t good at keeping secrets, and the grandson of a
long-lost classmate was just too good a story for her not to share with friends.
If she hadn’t said anything to Mom—then there was nothing to tell.

“Marty Gretsch’s wife was from Ohio,” Colin said, after
punching some buttons on his cell phone. “She wasn’t from New Orleans. She died
about ten years ago.”

“Why would he risk telling such a lie? It was a huge risk to
take. It doesn’t make sense.” I scratched my head. “It would have completely
blown his cover…” But come to think of it, I hadn’t seen either Millie or Velma
all day. “Mom, do you know where Millie and Velma are?”

Mom shook her head. “I asked them to ride in the parade, but
last night at dinner they told me they were just going to stay in today. Velma
had a rough week…” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“I haven’t seen either one of them all day.” My heart
started racing. I stood up. “Venus and I knocked on their door—there was no
answer. I think we need to get back over there as fast as we possibly can.” The
gate had been open. No answer when I’d knocked on their door. A stupid lie told
by someone who wasn’t who he said he was. I swallowed. “He told me that lie
because he knew I wouldn’t find out about it
.”

Which meant Millie and Velma… I stopped that thought in its
tracks, before it could take hold. It was possible they were fine. It was
possible they had been asleep and not heard us knocking on the door. Not seeing
them all day didn’t mean anything. Sometimes I could go for days not seeing
them, or hearing any noise from their apartment. There was absolutely no need to
panic or worry.

Easier said than done—I could feel the worry creeping up my
spine.

Don’t panic. Millie and Velma are more than capable of
taking care of themselves. They are two tough ladies. Remember, Millie clobbered
Frank that time with a frying pan when he was holding a gun on you.

But it wasn’t very reassuring.

“Let me call first.” Mom picked up her phone and dialed
quickly. After a few moments, she turned the phone off. “It went to voicemail.”
She bit her lower lip and crinkled her forehead.

That wasn’t good, and we both knew it. Velma
always
answered her phone. She was a lawyer, and no matter what time of day or night it
was, she woke up and answered the phone by the third ring. She always claimed
the first ring woke her, the second ring cleared her mind, and she was
wide-awake and alert by the third. If she didn’t answer, she either wasn’t there
or wasn’t able to get to the phone.

At this hour, she should have answered.

“Maybe we should call the police—” Mom started, and cut
herself off when she looked at Colin.

I made a decision. “The police won’t go over there just
because they aren’t answering their phone. Calling them would be a complete
waste of time.” I closed my eyes. “Colin and I can go over there,” I said,
hating the very idea of it. I still didn’t completely trust him. I wasn’t sure I
believed his explanations about the Mardi Gras case—it all seemed a little too
pat to me.
I can’t tell you about it
was an incredibly convenient line.
But I didn’t want to go over there alone—who knew if the Pleshiwarian with the
knife was out there waiting for me—and one good thing about Colin was he was
really good in those situations. The guy was great with weapons, had been
trained in hand-to-hand combat by the Mossad, and was fast. I was just going to
have to trust him—for now. “For all we know they may have gone out of town for
the night.” Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Any time they left town,
they asked me to feed their cat. That cat was their baby; they wouldn’t leave
him overnight without making sure I was going to feed him.

Mom grabbed her purse, but Colin stopped her. “You aren’t
coming with us, Mom. You need to stay here and wait for Dad to get back from the
morgue.”

“I am not about to let you—”

“He’s right, Mom.” I hated that he still called them Mom and
Dad. I could feel my face starting to flush.
I can worry about that later,
I decided. “We’ll call you when we get there.” She started to protest again, and
I cut her off. “We need you to be
here,
in case something over there
goes wrong.” I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes or so to walk back to my place,
another five or so to unlock the gate and get upstairs. “If you haven’t heard
from us in twenty-five minutes, call Venus. Tell her everything.” I hoped Venus
would listen to her…but at least she already knew some of what was going on.
Besides, I grinned to myself, I knew my mother. She wouldn’t get off the phone
until a squad car was on its way—she’d threaten to sue everyone from the mayor
on down until Venus moved on it. I stood up, and started to head for the back
door.

“Wait a minute,” Mom said. She walked over to a cabinet. She
opened a drawer and pulled out a Glock. She checked to see if it was loaded, and
tried to hand it to me. “You’d better take this—just to be on the safe side.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom, but I’d better not. I don’t
have anywhere to carry it.”

“I have a gun.” Colin slipped a shoulder holster over his
left arm and pulled a black wool blazer on over it. He kissed her on the cheek.
“Remember—no call in twenty-five minutes, and you call the cops.”

She nodded. “Please be careful, boys.”

We went out the back door and I made sure it was locked
behind us. I let Colin lead the way down the back stairs, since he was armed. He
opened the door to the street, and checked both ways. “Looks clear,” he said,
standing aside to let me go past out to the sidewalk. He shut the gate and made
sure the latch clicked. He gave me a crooked grin. “Since when has Mom kept guns
in the house?”

“Papa Diderot gave her that Glock after the levees failed,”
I said as I started walking up Dumaine toward Decatur. “When she and Dad came
back to the Quarter, we were still worried about looters. She still objects to
guns on principle, of course, but she’s not crazy.”

He didn’t say anything until we reached the corner at
Chartres. He motioned for me to stay back as he checked both directions, but it
was deserted. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for that,” he said softly. “I almost went
crazy with worry about you and the family. The news footage—it was so awful.”

“It wasn’t exactly pleasant to live through,” I said tartly.

“I wanted to jump on a plane—”

I cut him off. “I appreciate the sentiment, Colin.” We
rounded the corner at Decatur. There were some people milling about on the
sidewalks in the bright lights of the bars. I breathed a sigh of relief. There
were too many people around for someone to try anything. I started walking
faster. “And we can talk about all that some other time, okay?” I hated making
the concession. I didn’t want to talk to him about anything. I knew it was a
childish mentality, but seeing him again had opened a wound I’d thought closed
long ago. It still hurt. And that made me angry with myself.

The truth was I would never have closure until we talked.
There were things I needed to say to him.

“You’ve changed,” he said as we walked past a group of
gutter punks squatting in front of a secondhand store with their dog.

I bit back a sharp retort.
Finding out someone you love
is a paid assassin will do that to you.
I forced down the hurt and anger
and swallowed. “I know,” I said quietly. “I’ve changed a lot since the last time
you saw me, and I don’t like it. I miss the person I used to be. I want to be
that person again. But I don’t know if that Scotty can ever come back. Too much
has happened.” And I added, “Frank’s changed, too, you know. I’m not the only
one you’ve hurt. I can’t believe you haven’t even asked about him.”