I shift a bit more. Talking about the book makes me antsy. “My understanding is that it carries instructions for calling demons and spirits from other planes.”
“Yes, it certainly does that. But that’s a very casual understanding of its purpose. It’s designed not just to teach you to summon but also to teach you to manipulate and control all spirits and souls.”
I furrow my brows as I think about this, and after a minute I say, “I don’t quite understand the difference.”
Robert says gently, “Blue, both you and I have souls. The underworld is a pit of spirits and demons and souls who are controlled by Lilith. Imagine the power to control all the souls of the living and of the dead and of the undead. Imagine the power to determine if someone’s soul stays in their living body or departs for either the Plane of Light or the Plane of Fire. Imagine the power to determine if the spirits and demons of the underworld stay in the underworld or are beckoned here to walk amongst the living. Imagine the power to control Lilith herself.”
I sit back in my chair with my mind reeling and say, “Oh, I see. That is quite different. So why would Lilith allow Patersuco to keep the book if it could be dangerous to her?”
Robert says, “I see you have heard the tale, but most likely not completely. Lilith did want the book; however, Patersuco meant to bargain with the sacrifice of his son and his own soul, but never the book. Fortunately Lilith was tied by the bond of the calling and could not take it unless Patersuco gave it up as part of the bargain. As corrupt as he was, even he knew not to give his most powerful weapon to his most powerful enemy. The Birth of Vampires was really Lilith’s revenge on Patersuco for denying her the book. She likely wouldn’t have helped Patersuco out at all, but she devised a way to turn the gift into a curse to get her vengeance on Patersuco and all mankind.
“The book itself had not always been in Patersuco’s possession. He stole it from a small Pagan temple in ancient Ireland that some say was built for the express purpose of hiding the book. After he turned into a Dark Vampire, the book was recovered from his possessions. It’s unknown how he became aware of it or how he obtained it originally. But clearly after the theft it could no longer be contained in that place. Since it held the power to control Lilith, it could not be destroyed. It was too valuable a tool, but it needed to be held for only the direst need. So the book was separated from the key, and the key was broken in two. All three items are hidden in separate locations.”
“Do you know where these locations are?”
Robert shakes his head firmly. “No. And should the knowledge be just under my nose, I would not seek it out. That is a bounty I prefer not to harvest.” Robert pauses, then adds, “However, I would not want the wrong person to find it either.”
I think a moment, then say, “Let’s suppose someone were looking for these three items. What sort of person would want them?”
Robert takes a deep breath and pauses before speaking. “Well, almost anyone who had a great hunger for incredible power at any expense. This book brings great power over the living, the dead, and the undead. But it most certainly comes at great expense, as Patersuco found out.”
I rub my temple in frustration. I was hoping for something that would lead me further down the path toward the perpetrator. I don’t know if I have that now. I look up and say, “Thank you very much for this information. You have certainly enlightened me.”
Robert says, “A dark topic, indeed. I’m glad I was able to help.”
An idea springs to my mind. “Can I ask you another question? It will probably be easier to answer and perhaps even more useful.”
Robert says, “Of course. I shall do my utmost.”
I say, “I’d like to give you a list of five names, and I’d like to know if you’re aware of any of these individuals having an interest in magical artifacts, just from the circles you’ve been in.”
Robert looks a little relieved and says, “I can certainly do that.” I think he’s as weary of the morbid topic of the book as I am.
I quickly pull out a note pad and write down the five names.
Gerald Mack, Chief of Fire Department
Hilda Gunderson, Owner of Zen Spa and Salon
Milton Goldberg, Owner of Goldberg Jewelers
Tobias Blackwater, City Councilman, Treasurer
Hank Fletcher, General Manager of Mountain Paper Mill
Robert takes my list and goes over the names. “Chief Gerald Mack purchased an item from me. He was looking for a piece that would help him with fire investigations. I had a pair of enchanted glassicals that acted like infrared detectors. When you put them on, they rendered the user capable of seeing remnants of heat up to a week old. It was a very interesting tool but not very valuable, and I had no use for it. However, it was extremely useful to Chief Mack for pinpointing the origin or pattern of a fire that had already died out.
“I saw Milton Goldberg at the Pemberton Estates auction last spring. He won a few pieces of jewelry that were imbued with certain magical characteristics. One item was called the Truth Ring. It was charmed to turn red if the wearer was lying. It was a distasteful piece in my opinion, and I can’t imagine requiring a loved one to wear it.” Robert stops and looks at me speculatively. “But a useful piece for an Inspector, I would think.”
The possibilities flow through my mind. “Indeed!”
Robert continues, “Another piece, a beautiful teardrop pendant actually turned color to match the wearer’s dress, but slightly more brilliantly. It’s a much more enjoyable piece, in my opinion.”
Robert pushes his chair back and steps out to walk a little while he continues. I feel for a sense of agitation that might have caused him to get out of the chair, but there is nothing. “I’ve seen Tobias Blackwater at many auctions, private and public, though I’ve never seen him win a bid. I suspect he’s something of a voyeur of dark magical objects.” Robert looks sharply at me then and says, “That’s just speculation, mind you.”
I nod and say, “Any information you give me, even your opinions or speculations, will be helpful. I will treat speculations as speculations, I promise. Now, do you remember specifically any of the items that he’s looked at?”
Robert continues pacing a bit, and I realize this is what Robert does when he is pondering a puzzle. He says, “He was at the Pemberton Estates auction as well, and he was interested in the Truth Ring that Milton won. Last year at the Lawrenson’s Estate Auction he spent some time looking at a scrying mirror. He also attends the Glenwood Charity Gala each year. You could ask Mrs. Glenwood if he’s won any items.”
“I may do that. The scrying mirror he was looking at, was that a single mirror or a pair?”
Robert frowns at this and says, “It was a single mirror, which indicates to me that it was more of a spying mirror than a two way communication device.”
“And Hilda Gunderson or Hank Fletcher? Have you any knowledge of them?”
Robert says, “No, I’ve never met them or seen them in my circles.”
I sit silently for a minute to see if he can think of anything else. When nothing ensues, I say, “Well, thank you so much, Robert. You’ve been an enormous help. I really appreciate your time.”
Robert says, “It’s been my pleasure.” Then he rings the butler bell on his desk.
I rise, and Robert steps forward to take my hand. He raises it to his lips and gives me a soft and pleasant kiss on the hand, saying, “Until we meet again my dear, beautiful Inspector Blue.”
I feel my face heat up, and I feel a bit tongue tied for a minute. After standing there awkwardly for a beat, I say, ”If you ever decide to give tours of your secret passages, please give me a call.”
Robert tilts his head back and laughs throatily. “I most certainly will.”
The butler arrives to show me out, and I throw one more glance back at Robert, who has a twinkle still in his eye. I give him a wink, and he returns it with the flourish of his arm in a miniature bow.
I laugh my way out the
door. I really like Robert. He’s a fun guy and handsome in a bookish sort of way. Not sexy and dangerous like Jack, but pleasant and companionable. I try to shake this thought as soon as it enters my head. I really need to stop comparing people to Jack.
On my way to the car, I notice that my outfit still looks great and unwrinkled. Not one to waste a valuable resource on loan, I decide to see if Mrs. Glenwood is receiving today while I still look fresh.
Chapter 48
Vacant Generosity Exposed
Bluebell Kildare: June 1, 2022, Red Ages
I arrive at Mrs. Glenwood’s estate and reflect on how peaceful it looks without the swarming mob of Dilectus Deo around it. The drive leading to the mansion is lined with magnolia trees. The house itself an elegant, white structure graced with a white pillared portico and tall, black shuttered windows on both of the flanking wings. I decide to leave Varg in the car because I haven’t tested him against cats yet, but I leave a window unrolled so he can jump out if needed. It would be ironic and just my luck if I called on a favor for saving Mrs. Glenwood’s cat just to have Varg eat the cat instead.
At the door I give my name and card to Jeffrey the butler and ask if I can have a few moments of Mrs. Glenwood’s time. Jeffrey leaves me on the stoop and returns a few minutes later to show me in. He says, “Mrs. Glenwood is in the gardens enjoying a late breakfast. She would be delighted if you would join her.”
Jeffrey ushers me through the house and out onto the patio. Mrs. Glenwood is sitting at a beautifully dressed table next to the bulb gardens. Memories of the Gala night with Jack come flooding back, and my heart squeezes a little bit. If only that night could have lasted forever. I push those thoughts away as I have important business to attend to right now.
Mrs. Glenwood waves me over and says, “Blue! I’m so glad you came to visit me. I was just having a late breakfast. Please come join me.”
Just as I’m pulling out my chair, Varg appears from around the side of the building, looping gracefully toward me. Mrs. Glenwood smiles at him. “Who’s this handsome fellow?”
“I’m so sorry. I left him in the car, but he seems to be rather attached to me. This is Varg. Is Cleopatra anywhere around? I don’t know how he’ll do with cats.”
Mrs. Glenwood beckons Varg, ruffles his neck fur and says, “I’m sure he’d be fine. Cleopatra is confined to my suite as she is still recuperating. We’ll have to introduce them another time. Varg certainly is quite large!”
I laugh because he is only at his large dog size now. “I know. He’s massive. But he’s come to my aid a few times, so I appreciate his size.”
I pull out one of the cushioned, wrought iron patio chairs across from Mrs. Glenwood. Mrs. Glenwood sits up and pours some tea in a fresh cup Jeffrey just set out. Jeffrey looks a little miffed that she didn’t wait for him to pour the tea. She looks sternly at him and says, “Jeffrey, you’re hovering again. I can handle serving tea to my guest. I’ll be fine.” Jeffrey leaves, none too happy for it.
Mrs. Glenwood whispers to me, “They think that just because I’m wealthy and a woman that I must be frail and incompetent.” Then in a normal voice she continues, “How do you like your tea?”
“With sugar, please.”
Mrs. Glenwood plops two sugars in my tea and pushes it toward me. She waves at the overabundance of food on the table and says, “Please, help yourself.”
It looks gorgeous: poached eggs, sautéed asparagus in hollandaise sauce, and toast, all served on fine china. I reply, “Just tea will be fine, thank you. I’ve eaten already.”
Mrs. Glenwood laughs, “Of course you have. Not everyone is as slow to wake up as I am.”
“So how’s Cleopatra doing?”
Mrs. Glenwood sits back and says, “Well, she was severely dehydrated and very scared. The vet gave us fluids to administer to her twice daily. She perked up a bit yesterday, but she’s still spending most of the day under my bed.”
“Well, I’m glad she’s getting better. I imagine it will take time. Are you sure that she was locked up by accident? Do you have any new staff that has a disliking for cats?”
Mrs. Glenwood frowns at this and says, “I hadn’t even thought of that. I think I’ll have to do some investigation. We do have some new staff, but I can’t say that I’m aware of any specific issues.” She seems to ponder this for a minute, then comes to some private decision and closes the subject off in her mind for later. Her face is remarkably transparent. Then she fingers my card on the table and asks, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Well, I’m conducting an investigation, and I’d like to ask you some questions. However, the person I need to ask the questions about is a prominent political person, and I need to know if I can ask the questions in confidence.”
Mrs. Glenwood grimaces at this. “What’s the nature of the crime?”
I reply with as little drama as possible. “It regards the torture and death of a young man, a boy, really. I’m not at liberty to give further details given that the crime is still under investigation. I must ask you to keep even that little bit in confidence.”
Mrs. Glenwood looks emotionally disturbed at this news. I can feel empathy tinged with sadness flowing from her in strong waves. Her face turns down and her eyes grow sad. She says, “Well, of course. I will do anything I can to help. We can’t have torturing, murdering thugs running around, even if they wear the finest tuxedos.”
“My thoughts exactly. On the day of the Gala, I understand that Tobias Blackwater was in attendance?”
Mrs. Glenwood’s face turns to one of distaste, and I can feel her emotions turn a bit cold. She says, “Yes, he was. He’s always invited. Though why I continue to invite him I don’t know. A stingier man I’ve never met.”
“Why do you call him stingy?”
“Because he bids so low at the silent auction that he’s never won an item!”
“Well, surely a great many people bid on items that they don’t win, right?”
Mrs. Glenwood purses her lips and says, “Well, true, but he bids absurdly low. For instance, if an item is marked with a minimum bid of two thousand dollars, he bids two thousand and one dollars, even though there are clearly several bid slips collected for the item. Surely he must know he won’t win. I’ve decided he bids just so the other members at the Gala think he’s charitable, for his political career’s sake.”
I dig into this a bit further. “So you think he bids without ever having the intention of buying an item?”
She nods and says, “Well, I can’t prove it of course. But that is my guess from looking at the bid report last week.”
I light up at this. “You keep a report of the auction bids?”
“But of course! How else would I determine who to invite? I want to collect as much money for the orphanage as I can. Of course some people, like Mr. Blackwater, I invite more for social considerations.”
I ask eagerly, “May I have a copy of that report?”
Mrs. Glenwood pauses and says, “Normally I wouldn’t share it, but it isn’t protected legally. So I just ask you to exercise the same confidentiality that you have asked me to, unless of course a particular detail is required for your case.”
I am practically dancing for joy. This is an excellent piece of news. So I give my oath. “I promise I will not disclose any details of the report unless they’re specifically required for my case.”
Mrs. Glenwood nods her head in satisfaction. Then she rises and says, “Just a moment, dear. No time like the present.” She disappears into the house.
When she returns a few moments later she has a report in her hand.
I wave toward the bell on the table and tease her. “Aren’t you supposed to ring that if you need something?”
Mrs. Glenwood says, “Oh, poppycock! I’m chubby as it is. If I had people wait on me hand and foot like they want to, I’d be rolling down the hill. Have you looked at what they serve me for breakfast?”
I laugh. “It is quite a
feast.”
Mrs. Glenwood sniffs. “Indeed!”
I take a minute to peruse the report. It’s a matrix with the names of the items running down the left of the page and the names of the bidders along the top. Where the name of the bidder and the item intersect is the bid amount. Across the bottom is a total of bids for that person and percent of the aggregate minimum bid that the bidder made. Tobias Blackwater bid an impressive 8,753 dollars’ worth, most of which he had bid on several items with very high minimum bids. His percent of minimum bid was 100.02.
“So Tobias only went over the minimum bid price by .02 percent on average?”
Mrs. Glenwood says, “Exactly! And the columns below indicate the numbers of bids made and the number of bids won. As well as the total funds raised from winning bids for each individual.”
I nod and say, “So he bid four times and won zero times, so no funds were garnered. This person three columns over only bid once and only for six hundred dollars, but his average annual bid was three hundred percent of minimum bid.”
Mrs. Glenwood says, “Exactly! So the charity earned six hundred dollars on his bid, far more than should have been received for that item.”
I say, “I see. Well, I’m embarrassed I bid so low and didn’t bring much money in for you compared to the other numbers.”
“Nonsense! You were Jack’s guest, and Jack was very, very generous.”
I’m puzzled. I say, “But this list says he only bid six hundred dollars, and that’s on the low side compared to some of your other bidders.”
Mrs. Glenwood said, “Well, that’s because he chooses to donate directly without bidding. It was very unusual for him to bid at all. He donated twenty thousand dollars this year for the Gala.”
I gasp. “Ohh! I didn’t realize. That is very generous, especially on an inspector’s salary!”
Mrs. Glenwood looks at me strangely. “Blue, Jack is quite rich.”
I look up at her. “He is?”
The Light Who Shines Page 30