Shattered Mirror

by Iris Johansen

  “And you didn’t reach out,” Joe said softly.

  “You’re thinking this was the job Norwalk was talking about,” Eve said. “You believe it might have been his twin?”

  “We should explore the possibility.” He looked at the date. “Five months ago. That would have given him ample time to put his grand plan together and start integrating the pieces.” He tapped the file. “And place you squarely in the crosshairs.”

  “We could be wrong.”

  “Absolutely. That’s why George Phillips Funeral Home is going to receive a call from me as soon as it gets daylight.” He looked out the window. “Which won’t be too long. Well, maybe I’ll wait until after nine.” He pulled her to her feet. “In the meantime, we go back to bed and get a little sleep. Okay?”

  She nodded. “But it could be Norwalk, Joe. It kind of fits together. It does make sense.”

  “It could be.” He pushed her gently down the hall. “And that face they were so desperate for you to reconstruct could be Sean Norwalk. But right now, it’s all supposition. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  GWINNETT SQUARE ATLANTA, GEORGIA

  It was almost amusing, Norwalk thought as he drove through the crowded intersection. One telephone call, but he knew it had sparked an explosion of activity in that pretty house on the lake.

  And in Kaskov’s armed fortress near that bayou in Louisiana. He’d not been able to tap the phones at the lake cottage due to Quinn’s interference, but he’d made preparations for Kaskov. Lucky. He hadn’t counted on Eve Duncan’s calling on Kaskov for help. That had not been amusing at all. He had counted on a certain amount of time to enjoy her frustration and fear before he struck hard and deep.

  Oh well, he could make adjustments. He gazed around the pleasant little square with its shops and restaurants. It reminded him of one of the squares in Belfast where he’d grown up. They’d rebuilt the square in the last few years, but it wasn’t the same. It had only warehouse stores now instead of the intimate shops that had been there before.

  But he remembered them every time he drove through Belfast. He hadn’t seen how Sean could have wanted to lose touch with that glorious time in their lives.

  Adjustments. Always adjustments.

  He might have to move faster, but it would not be any less exciting or satisfying.

  He pulled over to the curb and took out his notebook. Fast, but thorough and detailed. He began to make a list as he waited …

  You see, Sean? You were always too impatient. That’s what I tried to teach you. This is the way to do it.

  * * *

  “George Phillips was killed in an automobile accident four months ago,” Joe told Eve after he’d hung up. “His brakes failed, and he went over a cliff. Convenient.”

  “Another loose end tied.” She shivered. “But it might prove that we’re going in the right direction. Were there any records about this ‘client’?”

  “No paperwork. The funeral home was taken over by his nephew, Matthew Dalks, who was his assistant before his death. Dalks says he remembers his uncle talking about the job, but he never met the client. He only knows that the client’s name was Bellings and that his uncle wanted to be through with dealing with him. He said the guy was nuts and wouldn’t take no for an answer. His uncle had examined the remains himself and told him there was no way they could be restored. The client said that Eve Duncan could do it, and it was his uncle’s job to hire her and make her do the reconstruction.” He looked at Eve. “Obsessive. Nuts. We’re definitely on the right track.”

  “Yes.” She was frowning. “Did he know where the body came from? What construction site? What city?”

  “Bellings arranged for the transport of the remains. He said the accident took place at a construction company near the Canadian border. He told Phillips the local coroner in Buffalo had released the body to him, and he’d arranged for a refrigerated coffin for transport.”

  “Buffalo?”

  Joe shook his head. “I’ll check, but I’ll bet it wasn’t Buffalo. Phillips had been in the business a long time and was familiar with where to obtain refrigerated containers. The plaque on the coffin indicated it was sold primarily in southern Connecticut or Queens, New York. Both of them very far from Buffalo. That’s why Phillips was eager to walk away from the job in spite of the fat fee. He didn’t want to become involved in anything definitely illegal. Shady, he’d accept, but he just wanted to get rid of those remains and forget Bellings existed.”

  “And he did get rid of him and died less than a month later.”

  “Evidently, Norwalk didn’t forget him,” Joe said grimly. “He was pissed off, and he had to get rid of evidence. So Phillips had to be eliminated.”

  “Connecticut or New York,” Eve murmured. “If his brother was killed in one of those places, why did he feel he had to whisk the remains that far away? Why not pick somewhere closer?”

  “Interesting question,” he said. “But first I have to check and see where and when that particular refrigerated coffin was sold. There was a serial number in the funeral-home inventory files that was entered when the coffin arrived. That was separate from the files that Norwalk stole after Phillips was killed.” He got to his feet. “I’m going down to the precinct and see what I can access on the computers. I’ll pick up Michael on the way home.”

  “I didn’t want him to leave this morning. You’re sure he’s safe?”

  “I arranged for a squad car outside the school totally assigned to Michael. That squad car will be with him every minute unless he’s home with us. And I spoke to the principal and told them that only you or I can pick him up.” He met her eyes. “And I had a talk with Michael on the way to school. I told him bad things were happening, and they mustn’t happen to him or you would be unhappy. I told him it wasn’t the time to try anything new or different, and he had to be careful. He understood.”

  Eve was sure he did, but it still made her angry. “He shouldn’t have to understand. What if he’s afraid?”

  “He wasn’t afraid, Eve.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “I could go get him. He just wanted to be at soccer practice today. Their first game is on Saturday. He’s really excited about it.”

  And Norwalk was trying to ruin that for her son, too. He would love it that she was so terrorized that she was taking away one of the pleasures of Michael’s childhood. “Just make certain that those men in the squad car know that I’ll murder them if Michael gets so much as a skinned knee while they’re watching him.”

  “I’ll pass that along.” He got to his feet. “But it wouldn’t hurt that you keep Cara at home. Norwalk seems very adept at sleight of hand. Making us think he’s going for one target when he means to hit another. Cara could be the immediate target.” He added tightly, “Or you, Eve.”

  “I believe I’ll be last on his list. He wants to make me hurt first.”

  “I don’t care what you believe,” he said roughly. “The son of a bitch could change at a moment’s notice.”

  “Not the venom. He wants me to feel it.” She held up her hand. “I’ll see that Cara stays here. It would be easier if Jock hadn’t gone to see Kaskov. Have you heard from him?”

  He shook his head. “But I’m sure I will after I text him this info about the refrigerated coffin. He’s probably busy intimidating Kaskov and company.” He headed for the door. “I’ll call you when I know something.”

  She watched the door close behind him.

  Dammit, she wanted to be going with him.

  She felt helpless and on edge, and the last thing she wanted was to stay here with doors locked against that bastard. She went over to the worktable and took out the FedEx box she used for transport. She could at least pack up Sylvie and get her ready to send back to Forensics.

  “Is she on her way?” It was Darcy standing in the hall, her gaze on Sylvie. “I knew you’d have to do it, but I’ll miss her.”

  “Too much?” Eve frowned. “I thought from what you said
last night that maybe the skull wasn’t as important to—”

  “It’s not,” Darcy said quickly. “And I don’t think I need a crutch any longer. Maybe I never did. Do you want me to help you package her?”

  She shook her head. “I’m accustomed to doing it. You know that you can request she be returned to you when Forensics finishes all their paperwork? It’s mostly red tape anyway.” She added, “And if you want me to wait, I’ll do it. Say the word.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t say that word. I’ll think about the request. Right now, I don’t believe I’ll want to be thinking about that wonderful job you did on Sylvie. I need to focus on something else.”

  Eve grimaced. “Then focus on keeping Cara in the house or very close to the property. I promised Joe I’d keep her safe. He’s worried about sleight of hand.”

  “Is he?” She smiled bitterly. “Oh, yes, like the time Norwalk confused you all by dangling the possibility that he was going after my totally unimportant self? I can see why Joe might be worried about his doing that again. Don’t worry, Eve. I’ll keep Cara busy here at the cottage.” She turned back toward the bedrooms. “And the first thing I’ll do is remind her that with all the turmoil yesterday, she didn’t get in her practice so she needs to do double today. We’ll go from there.”

  “Master stroke,” Eve said. “Very good.”

  “You just have to find out what’s important to someone and offer it to them.” She paused. “Or threaten to take it away, depending on the circumstances. You could do the first, I don’t think you’d be comfortable with the second. But with Cara, that wouldn’t be necessary.”

  Eve grinned. “Since you appear to have it under control, I’ll leave it to you. Anything I can do to help?”

  “Maybe. Do you have a gun I could borrow, Eve?”

  Eve felt a ripple of shock. “What?”

  “Just a thought.” Her smile had never faltered. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but I did want to make sure that you and Cara are safe. I do know how to shoot a gun. I learned when I did an episode of Criminal Minds when I was fifteen. Bad show, but I was pretty good in it.”

  “I’m sure you were,” Eve said. “I do own a gun, but I prefer to keep it for my own use. You can talk to Joe about getting one when he comes home tonight.”

  “That will be fine. As I said, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She took a last look at Sylvie. “No, I don’t need that sculpture any longer,” she said softly. “I won’t ever need it. She’s back with me now…”

  BELLE GRACE MORGANA, LOUISIANA

  “Why am I still here, Kaskov?” Jock said as he looked down at the chess board. “Some kind of bluff? Did I make you uneasy about the break-in, and you want to show a little muscle?”

  “I don’t believe in bluffs,” Kaskov said. “It’s much more effective if you don’t see even a hint of a threat coming. No, I don’t often have the chance to play chess with someone who’s not afraid to beat me.” He moved his knight. “And you did beat me twice so far. I admit it did irritate me. If I hadn’t won that last game, I would have told Nikolai, ‘Off with his head.’”

  “I don’t believe that. But you would have found a way to make me suffer.”

  “So you let me win?”

  “No, my ego wouldn’t have permitted it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Four hours. Why am I still here?”

  “I hadn’t had a chance to observe you at close range. It was an opportunity.” He smiled. “You appear to dominate Cara’s life, and I had to know the best way to go if I had to extract you.”

  “You wouldn’t waste four hours on me.”

  “Oh, but I would,” he said softly. “You invaded my turf. The challenge you issued was very clear. Since Cara insists that you’re her best friend, my options are limited. I have to either remove you or learn to deal with you. Either way, I have to know gains and losses.”

  “Not by playing chess.”

  He smiled. “Perhaps not. That might have been a bonus advantage.” His gaze went to Nikolai, who had just entered the study. “And here comes my friend, Nikolai, and if I’m not mistaken, you’ll be able to spare me losing another game and get on your way.”

  Nikolai was handing Kaskov a file. “Very efficient. They did well. Anything else?”

  “Not at the moment. Thank you.” He opened the file and scanned it. “Yes, very thorough.”

  Nikolai smiled and left the room.

  “Here’s your copy, Gavin.” Kaskov handed him a sheet from the file. “It’s only Norwalk’s initial background history, but it might help to put things together. I had one of my people in Dublin dig deep and fast. He found a source who had been in the IRA with Norwalk and later in his organization. He squeezed him with a great deal of enthusiasm.”

  RORY NORWALK

  Jock glanced up from the paper. “And this is what I’ve been waiting for?”

  “Of course, your trip here was an explorative venture on many levels on both our parts. Norwalk is perhaps the only puzzle that we can solve, so I urged ultimate speed.” He was scanning the report. “Rory and Sean Norwalk were born in Belfast. Mother, Rosalie Shea, prostitute, father, Ryan Norwalk, peddled drugs and was a petty thief until he became involved with the IRA. That’s where he was taught the art of explosives, a skill that was valued by the IRA. Rory and Sean were brought up to serve both their father and the organization. They were very close during those years. It was as if they belonged to a secret club. Rory told everyone they were special and didn’t need anyone else. He was always reading books and stories about twins and searching out passages that said that they were stronger and smarter and had special powers. He was smart, he was the fair-haired boy of his cell, and was given his own assignments when he was only twelve. Sean was less talented and a little lazy, and jealousy reared its head.”

  “Trouble in twin paradise?”

  “Big time. Rory tried to tell his brother what to do, and Sean exploded. Conflict. Fights. Bitterness. Their mother had already died of a drug overdose. That year their father was blown up in an explosion he’d set at a police station in South Belfast. That left the twins alone at fifteen though they’d never paid attention to anyone but each other anyway. But they split immediately after their father’s death. Sean left Belfast and headed for Europe. He was still bitter and cut all ties to his brother. He even changed his name. Rory stayed in Ireland, kept his contacts, and did well for himself as he moved into organized crime. The fact that he was bloodthirsty and ruthless as hell didn’t hurt his rise to the top.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Jock murmured.

  “Not at all. I’ve never been bloodthirsty. I do only what’s necessary.” Kaskov glanced down at the report again. “Sean never returned to Ireland as far as it’s known. But Rory made several trips to Nice and Madrid, where his twin had set up shop during the next twenty years. But only after a decade or so had gone by. He probably had to bury his pride to be the first one to make an approach. But he’d always been the one who was dazzled by the twin mystique and thought he needed Sean to complete himself. He never mentioned his brother to any of the men in his organization. But once he was seen with Sean at a casino in Nice.”

  Jock went still. “Which casino?”

  “Which one do you think?” Kaskov asked softly, “Lagazar Casino. Sean spent a lot of time there. As you can see, a connection emerging. It appears that Rory wanted to reunite with his twin, but Sean was still reluctant. Rory had done too well, and Sean wasn’t about to fade back into his shadow. He made Rory come to him.”

  “And would Sean have been put into the shade?”

  Kaskov nodded. “He never rose above the role of enforcer or occasional assassin after he left Ireland. He would have felt humiliated if he’d had to face comparison to Rory again.”

  Jock was quickly reading his own copy of the report. “And he preferred to work for Jacques Manard and a few other crime bosses where he felt he had at least a little prestige.”

  “Presumably.” He put the rep
ort down on the table. “So now we have a peek at the inner workings of the minds of the brothers Norwalk. I hope you found it interesting and worth the wait.”

  “Interesting. Far from complete.” Jock was still reading the report. “Sean changed his name to Marc Sanford?”

  “So it says.”

  Jock glanced up at Kaskov’s expressionless face. “And you’ve never seen this report before?”

  “Never. I told Eve that I knew nothing about Rory Norwalk.” He smiled. “Now we do. A first report, but quite informative. Do you wish to call Eve or should I? She should be pleased.”

  “I’ll do it.” He was still gazing at Kaskov’s face. “She might be pleased, but you’re not. There’s something … bothering you.”

  “Is there? Mind reading? Or just being a good chess player?”

  “I think your mind is operating at warp speed, and I’m wondering what you’re trying to work out.”

  “Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder somewhere else.” He rose to his feet. “I’ve enjoyed our little get-together, but I have to start to work. I believe it’s time you left the property. Do you need a car?”

  “I have one parked down the road.” He got to his feet. “I’ll see you soon, Kaskov.”

  “I imagine you will,” he said dryly. “But please not at such an early hour. I know you only wanted to make a statement, but I might find a second time more disturbing.”

  Jock started for the door, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You told Eve you knew nothing about Rory Norwalk. You never said you knew nothing about a Marc Sanford.”

  “Do you wish me to say it?”

  “No, I imagine you lie exceptionally well. Now that you’re on guard, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” He smiled. “But it’s something to think about it. I’ll find out for myself. But that means I’ll also be able to use it any way I please.”