Authors: Ashlyn Chase
“Greetings.” The much lower voice of a man spoke through her mouth.
Konrad responded with, “Um, hello. Are you Reginald?”
“Who else would I be?”
Konrad sighed.
“Is there a problem?” Reginald asked.
“Oh, nothing. Are all ghosts so snippy and sarcastic?”
“I beg your pardon? Did you just insult me?”
“It’s just that you remind me of the only other ghost I know. I need to ask a few questions to help Morgaine. Are you willing to answer them?”
“Ordinarily I’d never speak to a man in such dire need of a haircut, but if you can catch these felons and put them away, I’ll do what I can.”
“Okay.” Under his breath Konrad mumbled, “Talk about insults.”
“What was that?” Reginald asked in an angry tone.
“Never mind. What can you tell us about the robbery?”
“As I told the woman with the funny name, I saw the cops come in, hit the guards over their heads, tie them up with duct tape, and rob the place.”
“You know those weren’t real Boston cops, don’t you?”
“How would I know that? Come to think of it, how would you know that? Were you there?”
“No.”
“Well, then.” A long sigh emitted from Morgaine’s mouth. “They took my favorite Degas,
Three Mounted Jockeys
.”
“There were three of them?”
“No, you dolt. The name of the painting was
Three Mounted Jockeys
. You know nothing about art, do you?”
“I know more than the average American.”
“That’s probably true. Ha. I cannot believe how stupid people are in this day and age. Well, back to the matter at hand. There were two robbers.”
“Fine. Can you give me descriptions?”
“I’m sure the two guards gave the police their descriptions, but because I’m in a generous mood, I’ll try to remember. They were both Caucasian. One was about six feet and the other slightly shorter. They wore fake moustaches and spoke with what passes for a Boston accent these days. Not the eloquent accents of my time, but an uncultured dialect that made them sound ignorant and uncouth. They used foul language too.”
“Did you notice anything else? Perhaps the thieves said something to each other after they stashed the guards in the basement?”
“How did you know about that? Perhaps you were in on it!”
“I read it in the newspaper. Why are you so suspicious of me?”
“Oh, no reason. I just don’t believe a security expert should have hair longer than the woman he’s with.”
“Let’s get back to the case. Did they say anything about already having a buyer?”
“They mentioned getting the stuff into the automobile and driving to Revere.”
“Revere! That’s a huge new clue. What else?”
“Well, they had a list.”
“It sounds like they knew exactly what their buyer or buyers wanted.”
“Yes, and someone knew the value of these items. Like a bronze beaker from the Shang Dynasty. It was at least three thousand years old, possibly four; in other words, priceless.”
“Did they take anything
not
on the list?”
“Only a Rembrandt etching that was postage-stamp size. A self-portrait. I imagine they thought they could hide it pretty easily.”
“Probably. They may have tried to fence it themselves. That would be helpful if the piece ever surfaces. It could lead us directly back to the thieves. Then they could tell us where the rest of it went.”
“The police and FBI were all over this place, collecting evidence and questioning the staff. I can’t believe they haven’t caught the hooligans? It’s been twenty years.”
“I imagine the FBI has done all the right things.”
“Maybe they were in on it.”
Konrad snorted. “I doubt it.”
“But they had police uniforms and guns.”
“Those can be bought.”
“And the patches that said Boston Police?”
“They may have made or stolen those. My twin brother is a Boston cop. He might be able to ask some of the veterans about it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you don’t want to believe the police are in on it. Your brother is a flatfoot.”
Konrad bristled. “Look, most cops are honest, hardworking individuals who put their lives on the—”
Male laughter interrupted Konrad.
His grip tightened, and he growled.
Morgaine let go of his hands, swayed, and leaned over.
Konrad shot to his feet and grabbed her shoulders before she hit the table. “Morgaine, are you all right?”
She took a few panting breaths and opened her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Where did Reginald go?”
“I don’t know. I imagine he’s still around. I just had to intervene. You two weren’t getting along very well.”
“No kidding. I have the feeling old Reggie doesn’t like cops. Maybe he wasn’t squeaky clean himself.”
“If we want information, you two have to play nice.” Morgaine suddenly sat bolt upright, opened her mouth, and spoke with the formal male voice again. “Don’t call me Reggie, and I won’t call you Connie. Being a disembodied spirit isn’t easy. How would you like to try it, hmmm?”
“Is that a threat?”
“What could I possibly threaten you with? Unless it’s withholding information.”
“You wouldn’t.”
A long silence followed, with Morgaine holding her stiff position.
“Oh c’mon. Don’t be childish,” Konrad said.
“Childish? How dare you. I was born in 1890. I’m well over a hundred years older than you.”
“No, you’re not. We’re barely a generation apart. I was born in 1912.”
Loud male laughter exploded from Morgaine’s mouth.
“I’ll prove it.” Konrad stood and stripped.
“Oh, my. You’re rather like a work of art yourself. What big muscles you have, my dear.”
Konrad grinned, growled, and began to shift. His hair seemed to shrink inside his head and sprout elsewhere on his body. His nose and chin extended, and his back rounded. As he fell forward, his hands and arms became paws and legs.
A long, loud male scream resounded that could have been heard from the sidewalk outside. Konrad shifted back and dressed quickly.
Morgaine felt Reginald practically rip himself out of her and flee. She wavered a moment and braced her hands on the table. Konrad lowered himself to the chair opposite her as if nothing had happened.
Morgaine crossed her arms and glared at him. “Did you have to do that? I’ve never seen you change. It even freaked
me
out!”
“Sorry, but I hate being patronized.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me flying around on a broomstick every time someone pisses me off.”
Konrad shrugged. “I figured it was important that he understand that not everyone fits in his narrow view of mankind. Some of us aren’t even human and have much longer life spans.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself? This was my first case, and you probably blew it for me.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Maybe if I apologize to Reginald—”
“I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again. And he certainly won’t speak to you.”
“I’m very sorry. Maybe I can think of something to salvage the situation.”
The door to the parlor flew open and the curator rushed in. “What happened? I thought I heard a scream.”
***
Morgaine and Konrad rode the subway back to their neighborhood in silence. It was just as well. Konrad couldn’t think of much to say in the way of apology. He really couldn’t blame Morgaine if she never spoke to him again.
As they strolled toward their building, Morgaine said, “I’m glad you thought fast and said you screamed because you thought you saw the ghost.”
“I have a feeling the curator didn’t believe me.”
“Probably because you don’t look like the type of guy to shriek in fear. Besides, Reginald’s voice doesn’t match the timbre of yours, even coming out of my mouth.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t scream like a little girl.”
“Well, I almost did when I opened my eyes and saw you changing back.”
“You’ve never seen me change before?” He grabbed the brass door handle but refrained from opening the front door.
“How could I?”
“By looking out your window, although I usually come back before dawn and Sly lets me in. I don’t know if you’re up that early. Or you could catch me at night, but ever since Jason installed the motion detector, it’s bright as hell out there, so I have to find a Dumpster to hide behind, where I can stash my clothes and shift.”
“That must be nerve-wracking. What if Jason or Merry pulled into their parking spots just as you were shifting?”
“Yeah, believe me, I worry about that.”
“I can cast a spell to shield you from view whenever you shift, if you like.”
Konrad almost gasped. “You can?”
“I believe so. I haven’t actually tried to put a spell on a werewolf before. I might have to tweak it a bit.”
He glanced at the apartment to the right of the front door. “Listen, don’t say anything to Roz about me, okay?”
Morgaine placed her hands on her hips and frowned. “You’re going to tell her, though.”
“Yes, when the time is right.”
When the hell that’ll be, I don’t know.
She seemed to relax, so he opened the heavy front door and held it for her. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she said, “Well, thanks for your…help.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I didn’t really know what would happen. I took a chance, and it didn’t work out.” She sighed. “Back to the drawing board.”
“You know who might be able to help you with Reginald more than I can?”
“Who?”
“Roz. She has a way of drawing people out. I’ve heard her deal with different delicate situations very calmly and non-judgmentally. Plus she knows what kind of evidence is admissible in court. I think she’d be perfect.”
“Is she home?”
“Why don’t we find out? I told her I’d call on her today anyway. Oh, and just so you know, I’m going to tell her I got fired from my…um, job.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“Why not just say you quit?”
“Because I really don’t want to go back to it.”
Morgaine laid a hand on his arm. “I admire that. Will she believe you?”
He shrugged. “She has no reason not to.”
“Okay. Give it a try.” Morgaine waited behind him while Konrad lifted the brass door knocker and rapped on Roz’s door.
She opened it and beamed up into his smiling face.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. May I interest you in buying some magazines today?”
“Only if you deliver them in person, naked, holding a bottle of Champagne,” she said and gave him a come-hither look. She stepped back and opened the door wider.
Clearing her throat, Morgaine said, “Dottie has rules about public nudity, but it wouldn’t bother me.”
Roz glanced into the hall and gasped when she realized they weren’t alone.
Konrad cringed. “Uh, sorry. I should have said that Morgaine’s waiting to ask you something.”
“Oops.” Roz blushed.
When Morgaine stepped forward, she said, “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute when couples flirt.”
Roz let out a small giggle and said, “Come in, both of you. Have a seat.”
Morgaine sat on Roz’s antique-looking couch, while Konrad wandered around and looked at her things. He didn’t figure her for an antique buff. An old roll-top desk. A tall wooden cabinet with a glass panel holding thick tomes that he assumed were law books. Lots of fragile-looking furniture he wouldn’t dare put his full weight on.
“Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
“No, thanks,” Morgaine said.
Roz sat next to her on the sofa. “So…what did you want to ask me?”
“I guess I should start at the beginning. I’m a psychic witch and a medium.”
Roz nodded, but her expression didn’t change.
Konrad blew out a breath of relief.
Whew. She handled that pretty well.
But then he remembered she knew enough about Morgaine already, like leading a séance with Chad, so the information might not come as a shock.
“I’ve been hired to work with a new witness who was present during the theft at the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum.”
Roz grew more animated. “Really? There’s a new witness? So there might be hope of catching those douche bags who robbed the place, after all?”
“Yes. We’ve already gained some new information, but we don’t know how much of it can be used in court.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the new witness is a ghost.”
Roz’s mouth dropped open. “I…it didn’t come home with you, did it?”
It’s okay, darling. I’m right here. You’re perfectly safe
.
“
Are you sure? Ghosts freak me the hell out! Don’t you feel uncomfortable around them?
”
No. Even if the room were full of them, they can’t hurt you.
“
Ugh, that would be like thinking you’re alone in the bathroom while attending a peeping Tom convention.
”
She quickly recovered her neutral demeanor and said, “A ghost? Haunting the museum?”
“Yes, so if we learn anything from Reginald—that’s the spirit’s name—do you think it could be used to claim the reward? I don’t want the court to say it’s bunk and cheat me out of my money if I help recover the art.”
Roz rose to her feet and paced as she talked. “Has the ghost’s presence been substantiated?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve talked to him.”
Konrad spoke up. “So have I. There are two of us who can attest to his being there.
Roz’s eyebrows rose as she focused her sharp gaze on Konrad. “You can talk to ghosts too?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean that. Morgaine did her medium thing while I was there. I heard his voice coming through her mouth.”
Roz nodded. “Freaky, but okay…continue.”
“Well,” Morgaine said, “the curator sensed his presence and admitted a couple of visitors claimed to have seen him.”
“I’ll have to check precedents, but I imagine we can’t use ‘sensing a presence.’ Even a sighting could be explained away. But I’m curious about your being a medium. Can you prove you have that, um, gift?”