BURY THE WITCH: Book 10 (Detective Marcella Witch's Series)

by Dana E. Donovan

“How so?”

  “It turns out the motion sensor is part of a twenty-year old security system employed by the jewelry story. Although the owners upgraded the CCTV cameras to digital two years ago, they never replaced the motion sensor. Over the years, the lens cover got brittle and turned yellow due to loss of plasticizers, rendering it unreliable and susceptible to detection evasion. The bed sheet might not have even been necessary.”

  “Well, that certainly explains a couple of the mysteries. Of course it doesn’t explain how the intruder knew where to find the main alarm panel.”

  “Or knew about the laser tripwire,” said Carlos.

  Dominic added, “Or how they came in possession of the key and combination to the safe.”

  “So, it’s definitely the owners trying to make it look like a professional heist.” Carlos rested his case and reclaimed his seat next to me.

  “Maybe not,” I said.

  They both looked at me, surprised, as I might have imagined. “Tony?” Carlos pointed his Sharpie with the threat of using it on me. “What do you know that we don’t?”

  I smiled. “Oh, nothing, only that there’s a second key and a written record of the combination out there somewhere.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Who’s got it?”

  “I know,” said Dominic, “the salesman that sold Sheldon Marx the safe to begin with. Right?”

  “Wrong.”

  “Then who?”

  “A lawyer at Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli.”

  Carlos asked, “You think a lawyer pulled off this heist?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s more likely that one of the owners found out about it and got the key and or combination from the law firm and used it to open the safe herself.”

  “Herself? You’re thinking Rachel Marx?”

  “Yes, but only because I caught her in a lie already today.”

  “What was that?”

  I nodded to Dominic. “That cigarette butt you found in the alley this morning?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was Rachel’s. The thing is, when we showed it to her, she acted as though she knew nothing about it.”

  Carlos said, “That makes no sense. If it was hers, all she had to do was say so. There’s nothing suspicious about her cigarette butt in the alley of a business she owns.”

  “That’s my point exactly. What is she trying to hide? Dominic, have we done a DNA test on the butt?”

  “Not yet. The lab’s backed up, has been for days. Besides, we didn’t collect samples from the owners, so there’s no base line for comparisons.”

  “What about fingerprints?”

  “Those we have. We lifted nearly a hundred so far, mostly from the back door, the office and the safe.”

  “And?”

  “The prints all belong to the owners. Of course, that doesn’t mean the burglar didn’t wear gloves.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Tony?” This from Carlos. “Where did you get that information about the second key and combination?”

  “From Swan. I met her at Lenny’s about an hour ago. She also told me about Rachel smoking Melrose Lights.”

  He smiled teasingly. “You dog.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Dominic nudged him, bumping him off the subject. “I mean nice work. Right, Dominic?”

  “Yeah. Good work, Tony.”

  “Moving on,” I said. “Carlos, did you check the blotter from last night?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing suspicious, no strange vehicles, no disturbance calls or complaints; nothing like that. I also canvassed four blocks surrounding the store. No witnesses. That entire neighborhood turns into a ghost town after sunset. No pedestrian activity whatsoever.”

  “Were you able to dig deeper into the owners’ alibis?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. Ran out of time.”

  “That’s all right. Dominic, what did you find, anything?”

  “Not much,” he said, “but maybe something. You asked me to follow the diamond trail and to check on similar MOs to our case.”

  “And?”

  “As MOs go, this one is unusual in that the safe wasn’t cracked. In most big diamond heists, the safe is usually either breached on site or stolen outright so that it can be cut open in a chop shop later.”

  “I see.”

  “There is a case similar to ours, however, one the FBI is still actively investigating in Connecticut. It’s another large heist involving a Chubb Sovereign. In that case, they believe someone accidentally left the safe open.”

  “Oh sure, and the burglars just happened to break in on the very night someone forgot to lock it up?”

  “That’s their theory.”

  “I wouldn’t buy it, and I’m not buying it in this case either.”

  “They’re idiots,” said Carlos.

  I said to Dominic, “Were you able to find out how someone could unload such a large haul of diamonds locally?”

  “I did. I talked to an informant who mentioned a possible fence, a pawnshop on Van Buren that’ll pay ten cents on the dollar for primo stones.”

  “That’s two million for this lot.”

  “Not a bad night’s work.”

  Carlos said, “What if the stones aren’t really primo?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if they’re fakes?”

  “An insurance fraud?” Dominic asked.

  “Sure, think about it. Say the jewelry store is having financial difficulties. What do they do? They take out an insurance policy on a bunch of fake gems, stage a burglary and claim a twenty million loss.”

  “Could be a good plan,” I said, “except that I happen to know the diamonds were all legit.”

  Dominic asked, “How do you know that?”

  “Swan told me. She said that all the diamonds were appraised by a local I.C.G.A. named Lloyd Bishop Stephens.”

  “I.C.G.A.?”

  “Independent Certified Gem Appraiser.”

  “Oh.”

  “Apparently, he works right here in New Castle.”

  “Maybe we should go talk to him, see what he can tell us about the owners.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should. We’ll also want to visit that pawnshop you mentioned.”

  Dominic checked his watch. “It’s closed now.”

  “We can get it in the morning. In the meantime, let’s make a short list of likely suspects.”

  “I’m one step ahead of you, Tony.” Dominic flipped to the next page on his chart. On it were the names of the owners, singled and paired in various combinations.

  “Naturally, all four owners are suspects, but if we’re to assume for a moment that not all are complicit, then we have to look at who had the best opportunity to pull it off.” He pointed his laser light at the names Rachel Marx and Eric Feldon. “Consider first, Rachel. She alone had the key to the safe. This new information about Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli notwithstanding, no one else could have opened it without her participation.”

  He looked at us and waited for agreement. I nodded, and then elbowed Carlos, who nodded, too.

  “Now then, assuming Rachel never knew about her late husband keeping a second key and a copy of the combination at his lawyer’s office—”

  “Which is possible,” I interrupted, “seeing that he died suddenly, as you say, of a heart attack.”

  “That’s right, which is why I paired Rachel with possible co-conspirator, Eric Feldon.”

  “Why him?”

  Dominic drew a coy smile. He truly was enjoying himself. “Glad you asked. Now, to understand who knew what, we have to remember that old Sheldon Marx instructed the salesman that sold him the safe to give each owner one number to the combination.”

  I nodded. “Yes, one number.”

  “And it’s also important to remember how a combination lock works.”

  Carlos said, “It works by turning the numb
ers on the dial.”

  “Exactly. So imagine Oscar Shaul has the first number. He dials it in. Next, Eric Feldon steps up to the safe to enter the second number. What does he see?”

  “He sees the first number!” I said, experiencing a genuine eureka moment. “He knows the first and second numbers to the combination, doesn’t he?”

  “He does. And when Daniel Cohen enters the third number, he sees Eric’s, so he now knows the second and third.”

  Carlos said, “I get it. Then Rachel Marx goes to put her number in, and she sees Daniel’s, so she knows the third and forth.”

  “Plus,” said Dominic, “she has the key. So who do you suppose is her best friend now?”

  “Eric Feldon,” I said, “because together, he and she have the complete combination.”

  “That’s right. So, I think it’s safe to say that if all four owners aren’t complicit in this felony, then we at least have to look seriously at those two.”

  I held up my finger to insert the obvious. “Of course, now we know about Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli. If Rachel knew that her husband gave them the key and combination for safe keeping, so to speak, then she could have acquired the entire combination and acted alone.”

  “Or not at all,” said Carlos. “Isn’t it possible that someone at Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli pulled off this heist? Maybe the owners are all innocent and have a legitimate claim.”

  “Guess we have a busy day ahead of us, don’t we?” I checked the wall clock over the door. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we meet here again in the morning, say eight o’clock?”

  “Works for me,” said Dominic. “But you know that Carlos and I are following you home tonight, right?”

  “You are? Why?”

  “Lilith said you were having a cookout.”

  “A cookout? Uh, geez, I thought she was kidding.”

  Carlos said, “You promised Jerome. You can’t back out on him or he’ll never fall for your bribes again.”

  “You know what, Carlos? You’re right, but this is your fault. You took Jerome to work with you. You can get the hotdogs and buns.”

  He shrugged, perhaps expecting that anyway. “Okay, I’ll bring the dogs. You want me to bring some chicken and burgers, too?”

  “Yes, and pick up some tequila.”

  “Why? You don’t drink tequila.”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for Lilith. And seeing she’s been stuck with Jerome all day, you better get a couple of bottles. I think we’re all gonna need it.”

  Chapter 13

  Instead of going straight home from the Justice Center, I stopped instead at Four Freedoms Park, hoping to find a few minutes of solitude before facing a house full of people again. It was already after six o’clock. The sun was low and the park had emptied of all but a few joggers and dog-walkers.

  I hiked to a quiet little spot under a tree, far from the parking lot, the children’s swings, a bandstand gazebo and the public restrooms.

  Water from a nearby brook rippled across a patch of green space beyond the bike path. I could hear, but not see it, and imagined it emptied into the duck pond on the other side of the park where most of the visitors generally gathered.

  I took a seat on the ground and let the late afternoon shadows surround me. An unwanted chill snuck into my bones. Overhead, the trees gave stir to a restless breeze. The smell of pine and peat saturated the air. I dug my fingers into the soil and anchored myself to Mother Earth. At last, I thought, as I closed my eyes and felt the tensions of the day melt away—at last some peace and quiet.

  Somewhere in the park, a brace of ducks squabbled. A barking dog offered to settle the score. Further still, the wail of sirens parted rush-hour traffic. Someone else’s day had just gotten much worse.

  I leaned my head against the tree trunk and imagined myself riding the wave of a song, just a lonely note in a chorus meandering through time, lost in refrain. Echoes of the day’s events grew suddenly distant and weak, like memories filed away out of sync.

  Nothing made sense to me. My body ached. My mind ached. What crazy life was this that it should feel like a dream yet sting like forced penance? I should have been happy. I wasn’t. My soul felt parched and incomplete. I waited for night and hoped I might find comfort there. Sweet, sweet night and all its shadows, how I wished it never ended.

  The hush of wind surrendered to my phone’s intrusion. Lilith wanted to know where I was.

  “I’m on my way,” I told her, thinking it was a lie.

  “From where, Ipswich? Carlos and Dominic are already here. They said you left before them.”

  “Lilith, I said I’m on my way. What do you want me to do, stick a broom up my ass and fly?”

  “Sure. Would you like me to help you with that?”

  I knew she wasn’t talking about the flying part. “I’m sorry. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  I arrived home around six thirty and found Lilith and Ursula placing candles throughout the kitchen. A glance out the window told me Carlos and Dominic were out back with Jerome.

  “What’s all this?” I asked.

  Ursula answered, “We are preparing for a séance.”

  “Nice. Inviting the relatives to the cookout are we?”

  She laughed and snorted.

  Lilith said, “It’s not about the cookout.”

  “Good, because I doubt if Carlos picked up enough hotdogs to feed the entire coven.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  I crossed the room and tossed the car keys on the countertop. “Seriously, why a séance?”

  Lilith finished placing and lighting the last candle, a brown one, which she aligned with the current position of the moon. “We’re going to try and return the prime essentials to their original guardians.”

  “The Guardians of Four?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought they were dead.”

  “They are, which makes them the logical candidates to reassume the responsibilities.”

  “Wow.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I’m confused.”

  “`Tis easy,” said Ursula. “`Twas a séance what allowed the shift of powers this way, so shall it be another what shifts the powers back.”

  “In other words, you’re going to give the prime essentials to four ghosts.”

  “Now you get it,” said Lilith.

  “Then Ursula won’t be a super witch anymore?”

  “Not if this works. Oh, she’ll still possess the quintessential. She’ll just no longer be the Pentacle Prodigy.”

  “Dominic will like that.”

  “I shall like it even more,” said Ursula. I noticed the worry on her face. For all her powers, she could not ease Dominic’s mind nor temper his anxiety over her unwanted acquisition. In the few times Dominic would even talk to me about it, I got the feeling that her super powers had caused a major rift in their relationship. I hoped for both their sakes that Lilith’s plan would work.

  “So,” I said, feeling strangely out of place, “are you girls going to need me for this séance?”

  “No. Ursula and I have it under control.”

  She elbowed me to one side as she made her way to the sink, filled a glass salad bowl with water and cradled it to the kitchen table. “Why don’t you go outside with the boys and get your little barbeque thing going?”

  What she did next, I admit, I had never seen done at a séance before. After placing the bowl on the table, she produced a bag of rich, black topsoil from the cupboard and emptied it into the water, creating a mound, or island of sorts, in the center of the bowl. Then, if that wasn’t strange enough, she opened a bottle of yellowish liquid and poured it over the mound.

  “Umm, Lilith, what’s that?” I asked.

  She ignored me.

  “Is that kerosene?”

  Her eyes dared me through a squint. “Are you still here?”

  “Yes.”

  She pointed to the door. “Out!”

  I stepped out back to find Carlos
and Dominic playing Frisbee, with Jerome running back and forth between them like an excited pup.

  “Hey! There he is,” said Carlos, waving to me from across the yard. He had taken his eyes off Dominic and was rewarded with a Frisbee to the forehead.

  “Bossman!” Jerome ran to me on all fours, nearly knocking me off the back porch as he lunged into my arms. I spun about to defuse the momentum, unable to stop Jerome’s tail whip from sweeping the stoop clear of two potted plants and nearly knocking over a keg-sized barrel of rainwater. I thought the crash would bring Lilith out of the house in a rage, but her involvement in the séance granted us a reprieve.

  “Jerome, how the hell are ya?” I asked as I sat him down.

  “Jerome happy now!” he squealed, wrapping his arms around my leg. “How you are the hell?”

  “Tony!” Carlos ran over rubbing his forehead. “Where have you been? We thought something happened to you?”

  “I didn’t,” said Dominic, joining the three of us in a circle. “I figured you just needed a little quiet time.” He gave me a nod as though he and I shared mutual woes.

  I didn’t consider my woes and his at all mutual, but I gave it to him nonetheless and offered a reciprocal nod.

  “Tony.” Carlos tapped my arm with a snap of his wrist. “I picked some meat up for the cookout.” He pointed to the picnic table next to a still unlit grill. I saw hamburger, steaks, sausages, and a large bucket, but no hotdogs.

  “That’s good, but where are the dogs?”

  Both he and Dominic turned an accusing eye toward Jerome.

  Jerome looked up at me, reeled his gums back and smiled a toothy grin. “Jerome like hotdog.”

  “He must,” said Dominic. “He ate two dozen, along with a pound of raw burger.”

  “You’re kidding.” I laughed, and then pointed to the white bucket. “What’s in the tub?”

  Carlos answered, “Potato salad.”

  “Potato salad?” I gave the bucket a second look to gauge its capacity. “Damn, how much did you get?”

  “Forty pounds.”

  “Carlos, what in the world possessed you to get forty pounds of potato salad?”

  “What, I like potato salad.”

  “Listen, Tony.” Dominic gestured toward the house. “Have you talked to Lilith about the séance?”