Once they were released into a red-carpeted hall, Horowitz led Eve to a suite of rooms in the corner, knocking on the door at the end of the hall.
The man who opened the door was a pleasant, dark-haired, olive-skinned young man in uniform.
“Good to see you, Officer,” Eve said to Horowitz’s friend Fitton, a studious, pleasant, extremely helpful presence in several instances, his close colleague from his first days on the force until he’d been transferred further downtown.
“And you, Miss Whitby,” he said, showing Eve into a richly furnished suite with hardwood floors, with sets of doors that opened to further rooms, allowing for more of a vantage point toward their target.
Fitton gestured to the windows facing the park and downtown. “As you can see, we’re set up.” Telescopes were set through the slats of two of them, two pairs of high-grade binoculars on the console table near the wall, pencils and notebooks between.
“Incredible. Thank you.” Eve turned to Horowitz and whispered, “How do we have the budget to rent this?”
“We don’t, but in preparing for surveillance I checked to see if any hotel owners were trying to curry favor with local police. This was one. What moral quandary the management may be in to warrant the need for favor is a mystery that will have to wait another day.”
“That’s clever,” Eve said, additionally impressed.
A figure came around the open doorway of the rear set of rooms, dressed in a simple cream dress of lace and linen, her dark hair up in a simple bun.
“Oh, my goodness, Rachel!” Eve exclaimed and rushed over to the Whitby family friend who had meant so much to Eve since childhood, embracing her enthusiastically before stepping back to sign, You’re here too!
Rachel happened to be a talented medium in her own right. While deaf, she could hear spirits and communicate through writing and sign.
A lip-reader is useful in surveillance, Rachel signed in reply.
Eve whirled to Jacob, who was smiling proudly. “You really did think of everything!”
Plus, the more time spent together, the more familial power I can have on your behalf, Rachel signed. Glancing at her second cousin Jacob, then at Eve, she added, Because if I’ve anything to say about it, you two are meant for one another—
“Thank you,” Eve interrupted her unexpected declaration with a cough and turned away.
“What was that?” Jacob asked, eyeing them.
“Nothing, just fondness, that’s all.”
Eve turned away toward the windows, bending to gaze into the telescope. It was trained and focused to the upper floors of the Prenze mansion, which offered up several key vantage points. “It’s exceedingly clever of you to have deduced this angle, Jacob,” Eve said, watching a man in a hat and long coat enter a room and draw back a curtain in a large open bedroom with ample light and gleaming floors.
“It isn’t perfect,” the detective replied. “One floor down might get us even more, but it’s what I could get today; we’ll see if we can shift down tomorrow.”
Even from the first moment, this uncertain enterprise did not disappoint.
The bottom half of a four-post bed with its curtains open was visible, a velvet chair beside it. A frothy gown was splayed across the bed, and petite, pale feet were moving restlessly in the diaphanous layers, as if kicking while dreaming.
“That must be Arielle Prenze, the younger sister,” Eve said. She watched as a man in a long coat and a dark hat bent over the form, and it seemed as though he were dabbing something at her mouth; only the slight hint of her jaw could be seen, tendrils of red hair splayed to the side. Perhaps bidding her drink or pressing a tonic to her lips.
Grabbing a pair of the binoculars, Horowitz stood beside Eve and pressed the lenses between the slats of the shutters hiding their activity from view. Even though no other building near them rivaled the height, they could still be seen from below if anyone truly cared to look. “Sedated and barely stirring.”
Eve stepped back and signed to Rachel that she’d like her thoughts, pointing her to the other telescope to see if she could glean any words, though the angle wasn’t perfect. But if he sat, it might be. She picked up a notebook and went to the south side of the room, closer to the objects of interest.
Eve returned her gaze to the telescope and was drawn to the movement from one set of the high-ceilinged rooms to the next. A light was turned brighter, and she saw the same man in a long coat mixing what appeared to be a solution into a clear glass and offering it to the lips of someone in trousers and shirtsleeves. Presumably, Alfred Prenze.
Another figure in trousers paced in the background. No maids or other attendants could be seen anywhere; no other activity, movement, or light could be seen around the parts of the darkened house visible from their side.
“Proof of the family being drugged,” Eve declared.
“While you and I have a good sense that’s what’s happening, we’d need to prove it as a form of control and coercion. A doctor could simply be administering them Prenze tonics.”
“Yes, tainted with poisons to control them. Possibly to poison them both. What if he kills them? We have to rescue them,” Eve said.
“Unfortunately, we can’t just come calling and demand to be let in. Even getting this surveillance approved was a battle.”
“We’ll say we want to see Alfred Prenze, that we have an appointment, and then search.”
Horowitz shook his head. “Without a warrant? Surely at this point Albert will answer the door as Alfred.”
“It will undermine your case if you move too soon,” Fitton agreed from across the room.
“Too soon?! Too soon—when we’ve all been attacked by this man.”
“In no way we can prove in a court of law,” Horowitz reminded her gently.
Sighing, she clenched her fists. “I can’t bear seeing these people trapped.”
The spirit world felt the same way. It manifested in growing pressure on her skull. There would be a migraine through the night, no doubt. Whispered moans of a worried world glanced off her ear, causing sharp pains at her temples. Rubbing the back of her skull, she remembered what Maggie said.
“The basement,” Eve said. “Look in the basement windows. Maggie reported…” Eve trailed off as she saw, in one of the cellar windows that wasn’t blocked by a hedge, a darting flicker of white. One spirit, perhaps several, pacing. The unmistakable form of a hand pressed up against the glass. “Yes…something’s trapped there just as she said.”
“I’ll put in the request today for a search warrant,” Horowitz said. “I just have to think of the best grounds. I can’t promise anything.”
“We saw both twins with our own eyes for the first time,” Eve said. “I wonder if the query put to London and Scotland Yard can more easily open inquiry. Have you heard back?”
The detective shook his head again. “I’m not sure there’s been time to, but I hope I’ll get a response soon.”
Several spirits, from what I can see and sense, in the bottom cellar, Rachel signed, reporting from the other window. Only there, nowhere else inside. Eve signed her thanks.
Horowitz crossed over to Fitton and began discussing possible routes of correlation to justify warrants, going back from Gran’s abduction onward.
Zofia and Vera appeared on either side of Eve, a sudden rush of cold air frosting Eve’s breath. “Six figures from what we’ve counted, trapped in the cellar. We can only get so close before whatever buzz and hum of the blocking device grows too powerful.”
Eve thought of the postmortem photography that had set so many things in motion and wondered if any of those pictured souls were part of the cellar collection; perhaps some of the spirits related to Prenze were trapped there too, part and parcel of his source of spectral hatred.
“Dios mio, I can’t bear the thought of it, after being torn from this world by
Dupont’s device.” Vera shuddered, folding her rose shawl tighter over her bony shoulders, the fringes of the floral fabric lifting in spectral weightlessness like seaweed. “Damn these men and their torture of spirits. I know you can’t prove what they’re trying to do to us, but…thank you for fighting for us,” Vera said quietly. “I’m not sure you’ve heard that enough. I know the battle has aged you into an elder woman from such a young age, but…thank you.”
Eve hadn’t realized how much she needed bolstering for her mission and purpose, having felt so vulnerable, manipulated, and undermined by Prenze, so Vera’s words nearly brought tears to Eve’s eyes. “It’s what I’m built for,” she replied quietly.
“Still, even the born warrior should be celebrated for bravery,” the old woman replied. Floating along the perimeter of the room, looking down at the streets below, she clucked her tongue. “All this wealth. All this excess. All the golden calves. It makes the spirit world heavy. It makes your job harder.”
“Where is Maggie?” Eve asked.
“Still waiting for a moment to get in,” Zofia explained, gesturing toward the mansion. “To get to Arielle.”
Eve shook her head. “I can’t believe she wants to go back in there.”
“Any more than you can believe I would go into a fire?” Zofia countered. “Why are we still here if not to help? It is literally our only reason for being.”
“You are still loved, and that is something too,” Eve said softly, reaching out toward the little girl’s face.
“Yes,” Zofia said with a smile, pressing the wisps of her cold cheek to Eve’s warm hand.
“Well, if it isn’t a familiar face,” Horowitz declared, peering through his binoculars. Eve squinted through the telescope. A man stood at the window, looking drawn and haunted.
“If it isn’t Sergeant Mahoney,” Eve muttered. “Well, so much for trust. He did come to the offices with concerns; we told him the truth and our cautions. I’ll hold out hope he’s on reconnaissance and trying to protect Arielle and Alfred, but I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“He looks worse for wear, though,” Fitton commented across the room. “He and I shared a dispatch for a time. Perhaps I can look in on him.”
“Please do,” Horowitz agreed.
Eve watched as curtains were drawn over each four-post bed, presumably Alfred’s, then Arielle’s, and the man in the long coat walked out as Mahoney, his steps hesitant, followed.
There was movement seen briefly through the hallway window but nothing more.
Suddenly an eye was on the other side of the telescope and Eve jumped back with a cry. Maggie floated through the wall, laughing.
“You’re terrible, you know that?” Eve gasped. “What’s your read on the spectral front?”
“I cannot get in to Arielle Prenze, and whatever slip in their system that allowed me to get in that one evening has been fool-proofed since.”
Eve thought about how they’d disabled the boxes at the chapel and the Dupont residences. The Prenze system might be more elaborate, but affecting the power might work.
“How about Mosley? Could we coordinate with Gran’s electrical wonder of a friend? Couldn’t he…disrupt the line, however he does what he does? Would that offer a window of escape for those trapped and you a moment to get inside?”
“That’s a perfect idea,” the ghost replied. “I’ll bring it to Gran straightaway.”
“Wait until I can get the girls here so that we’re scheduled on rotation,” Eve said. “I should get back to them. Everyone was on errands today, all of us trying to find a way in.”
“I’ll see if there’s anyone at headquarters I can persuade to start us on at least an official interview. We might be able to summon Alfred Prenze down to the station, but I’m sure Albert would show instead and foil it all. We could try for Arielle, even if to force a reply of illness, creating a trail. Fitton, you good for a bit yet?”
The officer nodded.
I’m a night owl. I’ll see what the place looks like at the witching hour, Rachel signed. And I’ll sleep here in the far rooms when tired.
Eve relayed this plan, and everyone agreed and said goodbyes.
“Come,” Jacob said, opening the door for Eve. “I’ll escort you back down to your fort.”
“It’s maddening to watch and not be able to rush in,” Eve said as the gate of the gilded metal elevator closed on them and they jolted to a descent. “To just end this all now.”
Jacob nodded. “Believe me, it’s the hardest part of the job. When you know something is wrong, when you know who is to blame—but if the law is to be upheld, it requires things we don’t have yet. But we’re getting them. We won’t be stopped from exploring every avenue.”
They were walking back toward the hub of activity around the elevated line when a large industrial delivery wagon wheeled too close around a corner, causing the two to have to jump out of the way. The driver shouted insults at them even though it was his recklessness, nearly causing another collision with a baby pram.
Eve thought about her mother being shoved out of the way by her grandmother, and a pang of Natalie’s revisited trauma coursed through her. Helen Stewart was a sometimes ghost that would hover on the edges of their homes, never quite making her presence fully known, knowing how much the death itself still haunted Natalie. This moment was an uncomfortable echo to her family’s past.
“Was that close call his doing, or our paranoia?” Eve gestured to the careening cart ahead.
“I can’t say. Intentional or not, he’s going to keep coming at us one way or another,” Horowitz said, without dread or fear, just simple fact. “And we’re going to have to keep going.”
She tried not to envision a barrage of dangers, anytime they went anywhere being on guard for spectral sniping. It was no way to live; they had to gain grounds for arrest. They sat on a bench at the top of the trestle.
The detective watched her, not pressing her for a reply, but patiently expectant.
“I trust my allies,” Eve said, trying to match his fearless tone, balling her fists so he couldn’t see her shaking; the tremors a result of anger as much as close brushes with danger. She didn’t want to be rattled anymore. She was a woman of strength and purpose, and she was being eroded by a predator. “I have to stay connected to strength,” Eve said.
“I don’t think you’re ever disconnected from it, Eve,” the detective replied. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Even if you don’t always think so. That, too, is strength. Vulnerability is necessary to learn, truly feel and be human. It’s underrated as a tool for growth. If you find yourself doubting, it’s a chance to rebuild confidence from an even sturdier, wiser foundation.”
Eve slowly moved her hands to close over his folded ones atop his knee. She didn’t mind the passersby of all kinds; no one paid them any attention, and she was slowly becoming less self-conscious. “You are so wise and so dear,” she murmured, looking at their enfolded hands.
“When are you most at peace?” he asked softly. “Because you should find some. You’ve been chasing clues since I’ve met you. It is important to take moments to relax and enjoy life.…”
Eve kept staring at their hands. “Well, when do you?”
“Oh, no.” Jacob laughed. “No more countering me with questions so you’re never called to account to answer your own. That’s one of your most common tricks, and I am wise to it now.”
“But I want to know,” Eve said sheepishly, smiling and leaning toward him, their heads only a few inches apart. “I want to know so I can, perhaps…help bring peace to you, too.”
“Green spaces. I walk through every park this city has created. And I read. There’s always music. I love a good symphony at Carnegie Hall.”
“Oh, yes,” Eve said excitedly. “I adore concerts, but I can’t remember the last one I attended! Also, a whole day lo
unging in Central Park. I haven’t had one of those in ages.”
“Then these are promises.” He slowly turned his hands below hers, opening them so that her hands slid against his palms and he folded his fingers over hers, his thumbs gently caressing the backs of her hands. Eve shivered at the exquisite sensation. “What else kindles your fires of happiness? One of the reasons there are so many celebrations in Jewish tradition is that we know that to keep a spirit strong against persecution, there must be joy. Joy is undefeatable.”
His words hit her deeply. The train screamed into the station, and they boarded, taking to the least crowded section of the interior, a little corner with a bench for two.
“What else?” Jacob insisted. “Speak to me of joy.”
“Dinner with my team,” she said as they sat. “My girls, my family, savoring Antonia’s delicious cooking, sharing favorite heroes and heroines in books…” Eve blushed. “And…”
“And…”
Clasping her hands, she bit her lip, forcing herself to look at him. “Being with you. Being with you kindles such…joy. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
He beamed a gorgeous smile. “Then that settles it. Tomorrow, Eve Whitby, I’m taking you for a day in the park and a concert at night. You’re going to give me the whole day. Our case will unfold as it must; none of the offices we must make inquiries in will be open tomorrow and no warrant to go into the Prenze mansion can possibly have come through.”
Leaning closer, his voice was a gentle caress. “Please, Eve. If I have the distinct honor of making you happy?” He released her hands and lifted his own so that they hovered over each of her cheeks. His eyes, brown gems ringed in blue, glistened, searching hers, his voice matched by the gentle touch of one palm cupping her cheek then the other, his thumbs grazing her temples then the edge of her ears. “Then I must do my part to strengthen and steel you against anything that would wish to harm you. I won’t let anything get through me. Let us be joyous together.”
A Summoning of Souls Page 13