Bad Karma

Home > Mystery > Bad Karma > Page 23
Bad Karma Page 23

by Dave Zeltserman


  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I wish I were.”

  “Shit. You’re serious?”

  “Yep.”

  Maguire’s cheeks flushed red with excitement. “Holy fucking shit,” he muttered as he searched through the stack of photos in front of him. He found the one he was looking for and handed it to Shannon. “I know her. Damn, I can’t believe she’s into a cult. She seems so normal, so together.”

  The photo Maguire had handed him was of Susan. “You know this woman?” Shannon asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve been seeing her for this sinus infection and nasal drip I’ve been having. She does something called homeopathy. It’s kind of an alternative approach to medicine. A little out there if you ask me, but the damn thing seems to work. At least I think it cured me.”

  Shannon laughed. “Let me guess. Your remedy type is Medhorrinum.”

  Maguire reacted as if he’d been sucker punched. He stared blinking at Shannon. “Goddamn, you’re good,” he said. “How’d you know that?”

  “Susan’s my ex-wife. Well, more than that, we’ve been reconciling for a while now. She’s going to that yoga studio undercover. Her idea, not mine.”

  “You and Susan live together?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve been to your apartment, man. Just this past Tuesday, in fact. Same day we went to the Sox game. Damn. Talk about your coincidences.”

  “No such thing as a coincidence. At least according to a friend of mine.”

  “Bullshit. This is a fucking huge one. Unless the stars aligned so we’d meet and become partners in a new thriving detective agency. Shannon and Maguire Investigations. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Yeah, I know. One step at a time. And I know, you might be retiring from this business.” He paused for a moment to rub his hand across his cheek and jaw, leaving a reddish mark behind. “You seemed pretty down before about those two students next door who were murdered.”

  “A moment of self doubt. It’s already passed.”

  “So you think you’re going to solve it?”

  “Yeah, if I keep tracking down leads I’ll solve it. Only a matter of time.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Maguire nodded solemnly. “I hope you give me a chance to help you with it. Anyway, let me show you the photos. These are the ones of them entering.”

  The first photo showed a van driving off. “It let the same three women off that the Mercedes picked up later. I didn’t realize what was going on until the van drove away, otherwise I would’ve taken a picture of the driver. He was young, though, maybe early twenties, bald, with a bandage wrapped around his skull.”

  “I know who the guy is.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Anyway, these are the three women he let out.” He pointed out the next three photos in the pile. Each photo showed a woman heading down the steps to the yoga studio. Two of these women were the ones who had confronted him at the studio, the third woman was young and petite with straight red hair.

  Shannon flipped through the rest of the photos. With the exception of Susan, all the women were in their late teens or early twenties, and they were all very attractive. Maguire pointed a finger at the picture Shannon was looking at. “This has been bugging the hell out of me. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen her before and it just hit me where. She used to hang out at my neighbors’ condo.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Pretty sure. Yeah.” Maguire nodded, a sheen of excitement in his eyes. “And not just her. A couple of the others too.”

  He took the photos from Shannon and studied them, taking out two of the photos. One was the dark-haired girl who had first confronted Shannon at the yoga studio, the other was a blond girl who looked enough like Melissa to be her sister.

  “I’m pretty sure I saw those two also,” Maguire said. He absentmindedly rubbed his cheek harder than before, almost as if he had a toothache and was trying to massage the pain away. When he took his hand from his face his skin was mottled a reddish-white. “Shit, I knew they looked familiar.”

  “You remember when you saw them?”

  Maguire thought about it, shook his head. “No, after a while everything becomes kind of a blur. These days it’s hard to remember whether something happened six months ago or six years ago, you know what I mean? I just have this impression of coming home late from work a few times and seeing them talking outside the building with my neighbors.”

  “All three of them talking with Carver and Gibson at the same time?”

  “I don’t think so. Different ones at different times. But again, this is just an impression. I couldn’t swear to any of this on a Bible.”

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Shannon’s heart beat a mile a minute as he jogged to his car, got the Vishna Yoga brochure and brought it back to Maguire. Trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, he asked whether Maguire ever saw Vishna hanging around with Carver and Gibson. Maguire studied the picture and shook his head. “I never saw this guy before.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. If I saw this dude, I’d remember.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess it would’ve made things too easy if you did.” Shannon took back the brochure and asked Maguire whether he could make copies of the photos of the women he had seen with his neighbors.

  “Absolutely. Computer’s in the second bedroom.”

  Shannon followed him to a small room that had been set up as an office. Several bookcases were stuffed with a mix of technical books and hardboiled PI novels. While Maguire made the copies, Shannon picked up a dog-eared copy of Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett and flipped through it.

  “One of the best,” Maguire told him. “If you want to borrow it feel free.”

  “Maybe another time. Right now I’ve got a collection of Zane Grey’s waiting for me.”

  “Those are westerns, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve read a few recently by Cormac McCarthy. Terrific stuff. Has the same cynicism and bleak landscapes that you get in the best hardboiled books. By the way, all those computer books are getting tossed. In the next few weeks they’ll be replaced with investigation manuals.”

  Maguire snapped his fingers suddenly and turned back to the computer. “A moment of inspiration hit me,” he explained to Shannon. “I wonder what would happen if I did an Internet search for Vishna Yoga?”

  He brought up a search engine and tried it. “They’re opening up more studios,” he muttered softly as he looked over the results.

  Shannon’s heart dropped as he looked at the list of upcoming locations. Fort Collins. Colorado Springs. Austin, Texas. Norman, Oklahoma. Boise, Idaho. Paveeth had far more ambitious plans than Shannon had given him credit for. He was going to mine those college towns for more women who fit his emotional and physical criteria. Shannon knew more expansions would come in the future. That this was just the beginning.

  “What do you think?” Maguire asked, a twinkle showing in his eyes. “Should I buy some stock in his operations? Looks like a potential boom.”

  “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Shannon said. “Look, I’ve got to head out. I’ll give you a call soon.”

  “Sure. Let me walk you to your car.”

  “There’s no need. I’ll find my way out.”

  “Yeah, okay, um, you are going to give me another assignment, right?”

  Shannon nodded, grabbed the photos. “Yeah, I will. You did a good job today.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, and say hi to Susan for me.”

  Shannon told him he would. Maguire walked with him out of the second bedroom and through the living room. Shannon was halfway down the steps when Maguire asked him if he had called Nancy yet. Shannon turned and gave him a puzzled look.

  “My wife,” Maguire explained. “I was just wondering if you’ve talked to her.”

  “No, not yet. I’ll give h
er a call tonight.”

  “Let me know how things go.” He paused, showing a halfhearted smile. “Tell her I miss her, okay?”

  Shannon told him he would. He felt lightheaded walking down the steps, realizing what he had stumbled into. True Light wasn’t just a local Boulder concern. Anil Paveeth had ambitions to go national. Maybe he had misread Paveeth’s purpose for these young women. Maybe what he was using them for was to train an army of ‘Vishna’ yoga instructors. And maybe the Russians’ role was to bankroll the expansion, and they leaned on him the other day to protect their investment. An image of Vishna Yoga studios in malls and shopping centers across the country struck him. If the sonofabitch was successful he’d be able to buy himself a boatful of parrots.

  When he stepped outside he called Daniels and told him he’d stop by the station, that he had something for him. On the way over, he stopped at a convenience store and bought a large black coffee and a pack of Camel Filter Hardpacks.

  ***

  Daniels looked bored as he glanced at the photos Shannon had handed him. He put them down and shrugged. “So?”

  “I thought you’d be interested,” Shannon said. “Three members of True Light’s cult spending time at Carver and Gibson’s apartment.”

  “First off, you don’t know that they’re members of that cult. All you know is they take yoga classes. Second, you don’t even know for a fact they ever spent time with Carver and Gibson, all you have is an impression from a neighbor that they did. And your buddy, Maguire, he doesn’t know when that was. Third, let’s say Carver and Gibson knew these girls, how the fuck does that tie that cult to their murders? You were a cop once. If someone came to you with this, what would you do?”

  “I’d find these three girls and talk to them. Anil Paveeth also.”

  “Who?”

  “The great almighty Vishna. His real name is Anil Paveeth. This joker used to be a chemical engineer before becoming a god and starting True Light.”

  “How’d you find this out?”

  “A friend at the FBI.”

  “So he used to be a chemical engineer. Big deal. I went to college for journalism and look at me now.”

  “I still think it’s worth talking to them.”

  “Let’s say I track down these girls. You know what I’ll get from them? Nothing. And I’ll get less from your pal, Paveeth. What you’re asking me to do is waste hours of my time, especially since there’s nothing connecting them to the murders. Now if you told me they were there the night Carver and Gibson were killed, or they had some altercation with them, then that would be different. Or if you told me your FBI friend has something concrete connecting that cult to those dead students. Are you able to tell me something like that?”

  Shannon didn’t bother answering him.

  “What I’m beginning to think is you’ve got a vendetta against that cult, that you didn’t like that a couple of their boys bruised you up the other day, and you’re looking for an excuse to send me down there to harass them.”

  Shannon nodded towards the pictures he had given Daniels. “You need those?”

  “Nah, why don’t you take them with you on your way out.”

  Shannon did what the lieutenant suggested and took several steps towards the door when Daniels begrudgingly asked him what his theory was. “How were Carver and Gibson connected to that cult?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they did some early recruiting for Paveeth before he opened his yoga studio.”

  “Or maybe there’s no connection. Maybe those girls became so distraught over their friends’ deaths that they ended up getting sucked into the same cult together.” Daniels shook his head, his chest deflating as he sighed. “You find a real connection between Paveeth and those dead students and I’ll look into it. But not until then. I already had a new asshole chewed out for me yesterday for not showing enough sensitivity to ‘our minority’ faiths here in Boulder.”

  Shannon left. It was already past five. He thought about heading back to the Boulderado to see Susan, but instead made a detour to the university. He found Eddie at the fountain area outside the student center playing a kid in speed chess. Eddie had a rook and three pawn advantage but never had a chance to use it because the kid’s flag fell while he pondered his position. The kid got up and let Shannon take his place.

  Eddie opened his eyes wide as he considered Shannon. “An unexpected surprise. I thought our match was tomorrow?”

  “It is. I wanted to ask if this is the girl you had talked to before.”

  Shannon handed him the picture of the girl with straight red hair, one of the three to have been let out of the van. Eddie studied it intently, pushing his upper plate out as he did.

  “Nope,” he said, “that’s not her. The one I talked to looked like a young redheaded version of Meg Ryan with freckles, at least when her eyes weren’t jumping around on me. How about it? You up to a game of speed chess?”

  “Sure, I’ve got five minutes to spare.”

  “You any good at it?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  They set up the board with Shannon taking white and each side putting five minutes on their side of the chess clock. Twelve moves into the game Eddie muttered “fish” under his breath. Twenty moves later Eddie had his head in his hands as he stared hopelessly at the board. He stayed in that position until his flag fell.

  “Why me, lord, why me?” he beseeched the sky, then turned livid as he faced Shannon. “I played the Steinitz variation of the Caro-Kann perfectly. I spent three day studying all its variations. You screwed up on your twelfth move. It should’ve been a won game for me.”

  “I kind of liked my twelfth move,” Shannon said.

  “That move should’ve opened you up to a queenside attack...” Eddie cut himself off. “Another game?”

  Shannon looked at the kid who’d been observing their game and waiting his turn. “Okay with you?” The kid shrugged, said it was more than cool with him. That he enjoyed watching someone humble Eddie for a change.

  Eddie, setting up the board, asked, “You making any headway with your investigation?”

  “If you call wandering aimlessly without a clue headway, then yeah.” Shannon took his pack of Camels out, opened it, and tapped lose a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”

  “Alright with me. Rest of Boulder might form a lynching party, but don’t hold back on my account.”

  Shannon’s hands shook as he struck a match and held it to the cigarette. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the smoke and tasting the sweetness of it. He felt lightheaded and disgusted with himself, but also immediately calmer, less jittery—as if a valve had been opened and the pressure inside released.

  “I quit five years ago,” he explained. “The last couple of days the thought of lighting up has been bugging me.”

  “Falling back into your old ways.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When you were a cop you probably smoked. Now that you’re doing cops’ work again, you’re falling back into your old ways.”

  Shannon didn’t believe that was the reason for it, but he shrugged and acknowledged that it was possible. Eddie had taken white for the next game. He made his move and hit the clock. Shannon followed suit, letting no more than a tick run off his clock. Most of the game was played evenly with neither side obtaining a clear advantage. With a minute left on both clocks, both players made their moves fast and furiously. By the end Eddie had a slight advantage, but his flag fell. Only a few ticks showed on Shannon’s clock.

  Eddie stared incredulously at his fallen flag, then at the board. “I had you,” he said.

  “Perhaps.”

  “No question about it. I had you.” He rolled his eyes upward before facing Shannon. “At least this gives me hope for tomorrow. One more?”

  Shannon checked his watch, saw it was a quarter to six. “Sorry, I need to get going.”

  “I hope these games helped you.”

  “What do you mean?”

&nbs
p; Eddie shrugged. “If I had to guess, you came here more to clear your head than to ask me about that picture or to play chess. Any ideas come to you?”

  “Still hopelessly in the dark.”

  Shannon nodded to Eddie, stubbed out his cigarette and walked off. A thought buried in his subconscious had been nagging at him, and while he played the second game he realized what it was: why the hell were those Russians acting as a taxi service and picking up those girls at the yoga studio? His gut told him the Russians were from Denver. If they lived in Boulder they’d stick out like sore thumbs. So why’d they drive all the way out here just to pick up those girls? The answer hit him about the time he was finishing the last game. They were already in Boulder for another reason so it was no big deal for them, and he had an idea what that other reason might be.

  He called Susan on her cell phone.

  “Hi hon,” she said, “I’ve been missing you. I’m back at the hotel room now practicing with a couple of pom-poms and getting ready for later. Think you’ll be back soon?”

  “Hey, babe, I’ve been missing you too. I’m going to stop by the apartment to check email and I’ll head over to the hotel after that. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, why do you ask?”

  “You sound like something’s wrong. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “It’s just been a long day and my throat’s a little dry, that’s all. Keep practicing with those pom-poms, okay?”

  Susan told him she’d use the extra time to work on some advanced moves, and that she was looking forward to seeing him. There was a hesitancy in her voice. Before hanging up she asked him not to be too long. Shannon knew she could sense something was wrong, but she didn’t push it. He drove to his apartment building. It seemed quiet from the outside, nothing appearing out of place. A wave of relief washed over him when he saw that his front door was in one piece. He had convinced himself that Paveeth had used the opportunity of his visiting True Light to send the Russians to his apartment, and had an image stuck in his mind of them busting their way in. He checked the locks and saw that they hadn’t been tampered with. When he opened the door, his eyes went directly to a gaping hole in the wall that had been carved out next to the hallway closet. The hole revealed two video recorders his spy cameras were connected to. When he checked them he saw that the tapes had been removed. He looked around the living room. Books had been thrown onto the floor, but nothing else looked out of place.

 

‹ Prev