Obediently, Jenny lay back and closed her eyes. That much mediumship at once was a lot for an adult body, let alone a pint-sized child, no matter how wise her soul.
“Now for what’s next,” Cora prompted.
Eve clapped her hands. “Horowitz is, as we speak, scouting locations for a Prenze surveillance outpost. There are several things to follow up on from the search of the properties. Cora, would you mind seeing if there’s anything anyone could tell you about the Prenze London account Font mentioned? Follow the money. I’d call upon Ambassador Bishop to go with you and ensure access. I know you want more time with the Bishops to rekindle your family connections, and I want that to flourish, keeping our allies informed and stronger than ever.”
Cora beamed, agreeing to the plan.
Antonia offered her own next step. “I’d like to conspire with Gran to see if there’s any of Arielle Prenze’s social circle to ask questions of, inquire how she’s doing.”
“Brilliant. Once the detective has a location secured, we’ll all be tasked with rotation. Remember. Take care, and shield.”
* * * *
As planned, Eve was to meet Horowitz in his office to follow up. She faced the usual eyeing at the front desk; the neutral police staff card signed by Roosevelt raised eyebrows; left so open ended as to her actual role. It may have removed the stigma and distrust of mediumship by removing the Ghost Precinct title for her safety, but her being a woman with ambiguous purpose did nothing for her standing in their eyes.
The detective had his lamp turned toward a missive he was typing out on a small, battered typewriter when Eve came around the hall. As if he sensed her, even through the din of the building, he looked up the moment she saw him and that smile continued to make Eve weak kneed and thrilled, the most pleasant sensation she hoped never went away.
“Right on schedule,” he said, rising to his feet. “We’ve much to do.”
“Did you find a suitable surveillance location?”
“I did. I arranged everything at the New Netherland. But before we go and see, there’s an unfortunate development from the doctors.” His face a bit grim, he turned to his desk and picked up a paper. “This was dropped off for me today by courier,” he said, handing over a note on letterhead marked Bellevue Hospital. Eve read:
Dear Detective Horowitz,
It is with a great and perplexed sorrow that I write to you to tell you that the monitor box you brought to me has disappeared and in its place was left a threatening note: “This device does not belong to you. Have nothing to do with those who have unholy associations with the dead!”
It most certainly continues to be a police matter.
Since you first approached me with this device, Dr. Levi, whom I have since befriended as a colleague, said I should be the one to reply to you. I regret to inform you the device disappeared from his office.
What I can say is that we believe the machine was some kind of brain mapping device prototype. “Reading” the organ with electricity and a pattern. Terminology around these early ideas have used the term “electric encephalon,” but these are the earliest days of an untested science. Both Dr. Levi and I are grateful for your showing it to us, and we hope you’ll keep us informed if the device resurfaces or how else we might be of service.
Once Eve looked up after reading, Horowitz chose to take a hopeful tack. “I am glad for anyone at Mount Sinai and Bellevue to work together.”
Such positivity eluded Eve, and she slammed a fist on the desk. “The doctors made progress, and now it’s gone again. Even our solid evidence vanishes!”
Her colleague nodded, his expression empathetic; but rallied, the picture of perseverance. “Let’s take heart, however, now that not only the villains know about it, it’s not solely their instrument anymore.”
Taking his cue to overcome dejection, she remembered Gran’s advice that protection meant not letting doubt and insecurity in. Jacob Horowitz was so good for her in this regard; his nature was optimistic and unflappable. Seeing her change of expression, he smiled. “That’s my girl.”
As someone who had always chafed against the idea of being “possessed” by any man, the way the detective said “my girl” was collegial. Encouraging. Awakening. The idea of being his was something that filled her with something she’d never felt, an invitation to intimacy that she’d never craved until they’d begun working together and gravitating ever closer.
A sharp rap came on Horowitz’s partially open door, the officer peering in as if at the mouth of some mysterious cave.
“You Miss Whitby?” the officer asked gruffly, eyeing her. Eve sat straighter and was glad she’d worn her uniform. It didn’t prevent her from being suspect in the average officer’s eyes, but it did make them pause so as not to entirely dismiss her outright, especially with a message.
“I am.”
“A…Reverend Blessing called to try to find you? Call bounced around a bit until we were told you might be here with this one.” He gestured a thumb toward Horowitz.
“What’s wrong?” Eve asked, immediately gathering her things, turning to explain to the detective. “Something has to be wrong for him to call.”
The officer made a face. “Ask him yourself; he’s still on the line. He wasn’t making any sense so I figured I’d just try to come find you, I’ve got better things to do than deal with paranormal histrionics.”
Eve tried to bite her tongue but couldn’t stop herself. “Yes, please let me take this off your hands so someone can be granted a moment of respect around here!”
The man just snorted as she and Horowitz followed him into the captain’s office, which was thankfully vacant. Eve was doubtful the captain would appreciate a woman on his phone, from everything Horowitz had said about him, let alone a woman talking to an exorcist.
For the reverend to actually use the phone was a concern. Gran had insisted her closest contacts and colleagues all have one installed, but he hated it. For a man who regularly dealt with possessions, he seemed more worried about technological demons than anything ancient realms could throw at him.
Eve asked the operator to be connected, and the line rang for what seemed like eternity before a familiar, rich baritone voice picked up.
“Hello? Eve, I hope this is you.”
“It is, Reverend, what’s wrong?”
“It isn’t something for the telephone wires. It’s something to be seen in person. Reverend Coronado is here. Something is wrong. He’s staying with me until this…episode passes. Please come as soon as you can.”
“All right…” She turned to Jacob, putting the bell against her collar to muffle her discussion with the detective. “He wants me to visit. It’s important. Something’s wrong with Reverend Coronado.”
Horowitz nodded, plucking his pocket watch in silver etched with delicate filigree from his breast pocket and opening to the time. “We’ll be there soon, then.”
“It’s very good of you to come,” Eve said with a delighted smile. He didn’t have to. The fact he was as amiable as he was adaptable, taking on the next problem with supreme confidence, was one of his many appealing qualities. Eve was losing count. She returned back to the telephone line.
“Reverend, we’ll be by as soon as it takes to arrive from Mulberry Street. Detective Horowitz will be with me.”
“Very well. Do prepare him for my work and world, will you? He didn’t get the chance to see us in action the unfortunate last time our paths crossed.”
“I shall. Until soon, Reverend.” Hoping her sign-off sounded full of reassurance, she hung up the bell. The officer glared at them, but she offered him a genial smile.
“Thank you, Officer, for your time and facilitation!” the detective exclaimed, matching Eve’s collegial tone.
The man harrumphed. Eve and Jacob, in a unified front of positivity, refused to let this man’s sourness make them cross
in turn. They held their heads high as they exited into the hall and out onto the street.
Eve pointed further west to pick up a trolley uptown along the west side.
“The reverends are exorcists, if you recall, Coronado under Blessing’s mentorship. They’re Protestant—Episcopalian to be specific—so they’re hardly what the Vatican would send, but what they do is known and appreciated, and much more accessible as they aren’t beholden to Rome’s limitations.”
“Reverend Coronado. Yes, I recall you and he speaking fondly. To be fair, we’d all been put unconscious; it does addle the mind. But as I recall, you two did seem to be a bit breathless together,” the detective said with a wide grin.
Eve scowled. “Why are you smiling about it?”
“What, would you rather I be jealous about it?” He leaned forward. “Do I have something to be jealous about?”
“What, no, I…I just…” Eve gestured awkwardly as she sputtered. “I…don’t know why it bears comment, is all. I mean…”
“He is, as I’m sure is universally noted by anyone he meets, extremely handsome,” the detective stated matter-of-factly, “and I find it terribly endearing that you’re not sure what to do with beautiful people.”
Eve rocked back on her heels. “Oh? Well, I find this conversation terribly mortifying.”
He laughed. “All this to say that I notice you, Eve Whitby. I notice your dear, open heart and the fact that you have moments of breathless—”
Eve clenched her fists, interrupting him with an exasperated squeal, her face surely as red as the firehouse door they passed en route to the trolley line. “You make me breathless, Jacob Horowitz, I’ll have you know!”
She darted toward the stop ahead as if running away from him. With a delighted chuckle, he pursued her.
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment,” he said, catching up with her in a few easy strides, “but I won’t complain about receiving one.”
She eyed him a moment, knowing the fact he could see her blush made it impossible to cool it, her skin a terrible traitor to composure. The color might as well be a tattoo at this point, unable to conceal the mark whenever he was around.
“And to be very clear,” the detective continued with that disarming smile that had made her breathless in the first place, “I wasn’t being jealous. I find jealousy unbecoming. I was, honestly, teasing you. But that’s really not fair.”
Eve looked down at her hands, pressing them together so she wouldn’t fidget. “It…isn’t fair,” she murmured. “I…I’m no good at this, talking about such things with people I…well—”
Her inelegance was, quite truly, saved by the bell of the trolley pulling up to the stop. She fumbled for coins in her reticule, but by the time her trembling hands found them, Jacob had already paid and slid into an empty bench, holding her place next to him.
“I hope you don’t mind dogs,” Eve said, eager to change the subject. “They’re friendly. The place may be a bit of a zoo. He’s rescued as many animals as he’s shepherded souls.”
“Why, that’s wonderful!”
Glad for the detective’s enthusiasm, Eve continued, relieved to offer information rather than disastrously flirting. “Reverend Blessing was one of Henry Bergh’s greatest supporters when he founded the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. I think that’s where he met Gran, at a gala. One of them mentioned spirits and they’ve been best friends and spiritual comrades in arms ever since. He took on sheltering and fostering dogs as a part of Bergh’s initiative, particularly greyhounds, rescued from harrowing racing conditions. Of the many I’ve met through the years, they’re well behaved, albeit excitable.”
A few blocks uptown and across the park from Evelyn Northe-Stewart’s fine home was a modest brick townhouse adjacent to a slightly finer rectory, serving an Episcopalian church whose grand spires and front entrance could be accessed from the next avenue over.
“The reverend is a supply pastor to congregations all around the city and to shut-ins, places where a black man of the cloth is welcome, mind you,” Eve said with an edge she knew Jacob would understand and, unfortunately, empathize with. “He meets the city’s needs, always has. But he’s getting old. He needed someone who could offer the same kind of flexibility, cultural access, and spiritual gifts. Coronado, with another year to go in seminary, showed up on his doorstep, much like Cora showed up on mine: in a sequence of visions. Fate led them each to their calling.”
She lifted the brass door knocker and let it go. A sequence of barks followed. A few creaks of floorboards later, a white-haired, dark-skinned man with a smile that could light up a whole city opened the door. Three long noses poked out from around him, emitting soft little excited whines.
“Come in, friends,” he said, and tugged on three collars lest any of them think twice about leaping out to race a streetcar. “Back, you fiends,” he warned the dogs lovingly.
“You remember Detective Horowitz?” Eve prompted as Reverend Blessing shut the door behind them. “Hello, puppies,” she whispered, bending so that they wouldn’t be tempted to jump up, as they covered her face with kisses and the bunts of happy, nudging noses trying to find her hands to hurry her petting them.
“Reverend, good to see you again.” Horowitz extended his hand.
“And you, Detective,” Blessing replied heartily as the men shook.
Eve was delighted to see that there was a new dog since last she’d visited, admittedly too long ago, a tall, brindle-brown creature who was perhaps the most excited about fresh company.
“And hello, new friends,” Horowitz said, grinning as he bent beside Eve and subjected himself to a round of skittering toenails, small little jumps and circles, and a few well-placed kisses right on his nose. They allowed this fondness to continue a few moments before Eve stood and the dogs took to sitting and looking up at them with trained, albeit straining, grace.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Blessing said before lowering his voice. “I don’t dare return him to the seminary. I don’t want his colleagues to see him like this.”
Eve leaned in, matching his tone. “Like…how?”
“I…” The reverend stepped closer and whispered, “I think he’s possessed.”
Eve stared at Blessing and managed to suppress a laugh. “But…you’re the exorcist! With all due respect, Reverend, why did you call me?”
“Because you were asked for by name and then there wasn’t another word.” Blessing folded his arms. Eve’s blood chilled, and whatever laugh she’d held back died in her throat. He nodded his head toward the hall. “Come with me.”
Following through the entrance hall of the modest residence, they were led to an open, arched door and into a small parlor with goldenrod painted walls. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were interspersed with religious paintings. A few wooden chairs were set about a tea table, near a brick fireplace with logs but no fire, and a piano against the far wall. Wooden shutters were open to the midday sun, and several lush pots of ivy plants sat along the sill.
Reverend Coronado was lying on a long, well-worn leather bench. Yes, he would be considered universally handsome, if not exquisite. His clean-shaven face was serene, his short, black hair was all mussed, and his priest’s collar was partially undone, a jolt of starched white springing out from his buttoned black collar, but the moment Eve entered he opened his eyes and shot to his feet.
“Eve, darling!” He rushed to her and embraced her, kissing one cheek then the other and grasping her shoulders. “Oh, my dear, it feels so amazing to be able to touch you after all this time!”
At this, Detective Horowitz coughed. Loudly. Eve’s face went an immediate scarlet.
“Oh, Lord,” Reverend Blessing uttered, passing a hand over his face at the threshold.
“Reverend Coronado,” Eve began hesitantly, stepping back. “I’m not sure you’re feelin
g very well. Is there a reason you’re being so familiar and enthusiastic with me?”
“Don’t you recognize me, your best friend?” The reverend’s voice was still his own, his same rich, musical tone with a slight accent from his early years in Mexico City, but his delivery was hardly his usual cadence, it was more that of…
Eve narrowed her eyes and took a step forward, leaning in. “Maggie?”
“Yes!” he said as if that were entirely obvious.
“Maggie! What are you doing?” Eve exclaimed.
“Practicing!” the reverend exclaimed, in Maggie’s distinct exasperation whenever she’d done something and thought Eve too slow in catching on. “We need to get into Prenze’s home, and I can’t go in as a ghost, because of whatever he’s done to the place, and none of you can go in as you’re compromised, so we need a willing target!”
“And Coronado was willing?” Eve could hear her own pitch rising. “To be possessed? Maggie, you know we have protocols—”
The reverend batted his hand as Maggie’s ghost did whenever she wanted Eve to stop worrying. “We’re in a new world with this terrible Prenze, and we have to think ahead of him.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Eve said, reeling. “This is a bold step. To say the least.”
“What safer way to conduct a test possession than by starting out possessing an exorcist?” Coronado countered.
“The ghost has a point,” Horowitz stated, staring at the two of them with blank surprise.
“But Maggie…” Eve tried to keep her calm and her patience, but it was difficult given Maggie’s impetuous nature, and speaking to her through the admittedly—devastatingly—handsome Coronado was an additional trial, her conversation with Jacob having made it all the more pointed.
While always wanting to be helpful, Eve wasn’t sure Maggie thought everything entirely through or considered the many complications. Sighing, Eve steepled her hands and tried again. “Maggie. Listen to me. What if we can’t get you out?”
A Summoning of Souls Page 11