The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy

by Arjay Lewis

  “It is disapproved of,” Drusilicus pointed out.

  “Sometimes it is necessary,” Marlowe surmised. “To move a small child out of the way of a bus, to stop someone from jumping off a bridge. Such skills are only to be used to save a life.”

  Drusilicus shook his head. “But to use someone to release a demon or kill themselves…”

  Eddie looked at Caleb, who had been silent since the confrontation with Drusilicus. “Your apprentice tried to influence me, by waving an amulet at me yesterday.”

  Caleb grew crimson. “He was asking about demons.” His eyes narrowed. “And I knew he was a cop.”

  “You have a talisman that gives you such power?” Marlowe pointed at the charms at Eddie’s feet. “Eddie, hand me those.”

  “Sure,” Eddie picked up the shiny medallions, and handed them to Marlowe. Caleb watched Marlowe as he studied them.

  “Could Caleb do the possession thing?” Eddie asked.

  “Hey!” Caleb whined.

  “Apprentices train in controlled ways,” Marlowe examined the talismans one by one. “They study spells and rituals, but use them only in a limited capacity. They can’t actually manifest until they are bequeathed a staff.”

  Eddie nodded. “I think Caleb is doing things way beyond the theoretical.”

  Drusilicus looked at his apprentice. “Speak, fool.”

  Caleb glared at Drusilicus and then spoke sullenly. “I may have found techniques that work for me.”

  Marlowe held a medallion aloft. “Is this a first pentacle of the sun?”

  “Might be,” Caleb muttered glumly.

  “This talisman is designed to make any obey.” Marlowe turned the large coin-shaped medallion in his hand. “By Zoroaster! This is very powerful. Was this designed by Inscope?”

  “Who?” Eddie said.

  “A great wizard who specialized in talismans,” Drusilicus explained and turned to Caleb. “Where did you get that?”

  “Around,” Caleb sulked. “I talk to people, go on the Internet.”

  “So there are ways to do things without a staff,” Eddie concluded.

  “There are many ways to walk the path of the wise.” Marlowe continued his examination of the talismans. “That is why there are Tarot cards, Ouija boards, and many divinatory techniques.”

  “None of which has anywhere near the power of a staff,” Drusilicus said with disdain.

  “Except for these talismans Abraxas is collecting,” Eddie put forth.

  “Those are powerful on a level we cannot understand,” Marlowe lay the coins in his lap, “because they contain part of his demonic essence.”

  “But why here, and why now?” Drusilicus asked.

  “My question is, what could this kid do with talismans that powerful?” Eddie turned again to Caleb. “I may be the new guy, but seeing the kinds of miracles you guys perform, I understand how tempting it would be for someone to want it.”

  Marlowe held out the talismans to Caleb, but kept two. “These are indeed for protection, spiritual purity, and opening the mind to higher consciousness.”

  “Thank you,” Caleb mumbled and didn’t look up.

  “This one is to control others.” Marlowe held up one, then indicated the other. “And this is to open any lock. I shall hold onto them. They are very old and I sense much power in them. They are not appropriate for an apprentice. You should only use talismans you make yourself.”

  A flash of anger passed over Caleb’s face. “I work hard and study to improve my skills. I wish to be worthy of a staff and to be knowledgeable when I receive it.”

  “I shall warn thee only once. Do not overstep thy place.” Marlowe’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Drusilicus and relaxed. “Stay for tea, Drusilicus.”

  “And listen to Frisha go on about what she can and cannot see, and who did what to her and when? I think not, Marlowe.” Drusilicus grimaced. “Besides, I believe Caleb and I must discuss the rules of being my pupil.”

  Caleb rose, his head lowered and a frightened look in his eyes.

  “Ahbay and Eugenia will be here tonight,” Marlowe announced.

  “Let them put up with Frisha. Or your pet paranormal parasite, Bob, or that vampire you keep…” Drusilicus went on, his patience gone.

  “Can I at least ask you to look in on Trefoil?” Marlowe inquired. “Your healing abilities…”

  Drusilicus sighed theatrically and bent to pick up his staff. “You said that the Five will be united tonight. Your combined energy should bring him around.” He then gave Eddie a look that spoke volumes. “If all of you know how.”

  “I’m learning,” Eddie affirmed.

  “I advise you to learn quickly, lieutenant.”

  He doesn’t like me or Marlowe, Eddie thought. He expects to be treated like royalty and we just treat him like anyone else.

  “We’ll let ourselves out.” Drusilicus turned toward the door. His staff shrank and disappeared into his pocket as he went. Caleb followed him without a word.

  “We have to keep an eye on that kid,” Eddie murmured to break the silence.

  “Indeed we must.” Marlowe looked at the two talismans he held.

  “So, Dru can really heal people?”

  “Yes,” Marlowe agreed, “he is actually quite adept at it.”

  “He offered to heal my momma.”

  Marlowe looked surprised. “Really?”

  “All I had to do was exchange my staff for his.”

  Marlowe blinked. “So he tempted you with the only thing you truly want.”

  “Marlowe, is there any way that I…I mean, how hard would it be to cure my momma?”

  Marlowe inhaled sharply. “Such things are possible, Eddie, but they must be done with caution. All mortals die, as eventually all wizards do as well. If you spare your mother this end, it would only lead to another. It is the way of things. You’d only have her a few more years at best.”

  “Even that would be a great gift.” Eddie found he could not meet Marlowe’s eyes.

  A pained look went over Marlowe’s face. “You should ask her, Eddie.”

  “Ask her?”

  “Perhaps she wishes to move on, to make her peace.”

  Eddie stood still, and tried to absorb the impact of Marlowe’s words. “Yeah,” he murmured, and checked his watch. “I’ve got to meet my partner.”

  “Be here before dark, Eddie, for all our sakes.”

  Thirty

  “I wish you guys would give me more time,” Doctor Warren stormed. “I’m not a magician.”

  “What?” Eddie said, startled.

  “Just an expression, lieutenant. Boy, are you jumpy.”

  “Tell me about it,” Luis muttered.

  The ride downtown with Luis had been chilly. Once again, Eddie was not forthcoming regarding where he spent their time apart. He might have tried to win his large partner over, but the concept that his mother wanted to die overwhelmed him, and his mind returned to it again and again.

  They reached the morgue to talk to Doctor Warren about the second dismembered body in the park in one week.

  “On the good side, nothing unusual on Mr. Yamasuto. No gold teeth, strange herbs, or unusually healthy organs. He looked like a middle-aged man in the prime of life.”

  “Anything on the pistol?” Eddie asked.

  “You are a strange one, lieutenant. Yesterday you tell me it’s not our case, and today, you have your captain put me in charge,” Beverly lowered her clipboard. “Did I mention the fact that you should ask me? I have more than I can handle, and now CSU is pissed.”

  “Sorry, and yes, since we arrived, you’ve told me repeatedly,” Eddie grumbled, his lips tight.

  “I wish you’d just make up your mind,” Concern showed on her face. “Are you all right? This isn’t the witty repartee I’m used to, Berman.”

  “He ain’t himself, doc.” Luis glared at Eddie.

  Beverly shrugged her shoulders and carelessly threw her hair back. Her eyes returned to the clipboard.


  “So, you want to know about the gun?” she inquired.

  “Yeah, was it his? Did he fire it?”

  “Yes to both,” Beverly flipped a page. “The pistol was indeed fired, and there was gunpowder residue on Mr. Yamasuto’s left hand…once it was located.”

  “Our diplomat went down fightin’,” Luis observed.

  “From my tests, there were only a few attempts at self-defense. No skin under his fingernails, no blood except his own. But, the weapon is very interesting. A Springfield Nine Millimeter Subcompact XD. Small, but packs a good kick.”

  “What the well-heeled diplomat carries this year,” Luis quipped.

  Beverly went on, “With work, I was able to bring up the serial number, which does not trace to any of the police databases. He added a silencer.Compact, very efficient.”

  “Very illegal,” Eddie added.

  “That’s more like the LT I know and love,” Beverly gave him a smirk. “And you’re right. I don’t know where Mr. Yamasuto got his weapon.”

  “But to me, it screams organized crime,” Luis declared. “A throwaway piece designed for a hit.”

  Eddie nodded. “I have a feeling that if Mr. Yamasuto succeeded in killing his assailant, he wouldn’t have waited around for New York’s Finest to ask a lot of embarrassing questions.”

  “A fine, upstanding visitor,” Luis sneered.

  “So, are you ready for it to start getting weird again?” Beverly reviewed several pages on her clipboard.

  “Does it have to?” Luis pleaded.

  “Yes,” Beverly went on. “The preliminary forensics, based on particles left on the body parts and the pistol, show that they were both cut with a finely honed sword.”

  “You cannot cut through a gun with a sword!” Luis bellowed, ready to stamp his large foot in frustration.

  “I just report the evidence,” Beverly shrugged. “How did you know this would get bizarre, Berman?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You got me involved, just like with your witness in the hospital. By the way, right after I left, John Doe was taken off in an ambulance to a hospital no one ever heard of. Know anything about that, Eddie?”

  Eddie flushed. “Maybe he had relatives?”

  “Lieutenant, I don’t know what is going on, but I would appreciate an explanation.” Beverly stared at him intently.

  “Yeah, me too,” Luis demanded. “This entire case keeps going nutsy on us.”

  Eddie could see he needed to say something, and the best choice would be the truth.

  “Okay, these murders are unusual, but what I’ve been tellin’ Luis is that someone is leaving evidence designed to look weird.” Eddie began to pace to help himself think. “Someone wants us to be thrown by all the strangeness and give up. There has to be something concrete we can take to the brass. Beverly, you are the only person who can find it.”

  Eddie could sense both of them relax. He sounded like his old self, and needed to keep them headed in the direction of pursuing evidence, while he handled the supernatural part of the case with Marlowe.

  “I don’t know what else I can find, Eddie,” Beverly admitted. “Even with a whole team working on the evidence from both murder sites, we don’t have a clue to the perp.”

  “Any footprints?” Luis said.

  “From where the victim was sliced and diced, we found tracks from a pair of Japanese shoes.”

  “In Chinatown they sell those by the hundreds,” Luis griped.

  “Not these. The soles were unique. They left a rectangular impression, with Japanese characters in the design. Due to the clarity of the indentations, I deduced they were not rubber or even leather, but hand-carved wood."

  She pulled out a computer printout. There was a pair of shoes lifted off the ground on top of wooden blocks.

  “Are those shoes,” Luis asked, “or stilts?”

  “With the sword and wooden soles, it suggests a Japanese historical garment,” Beverly theorized. “But the footprints, they show up where the victim lost the gun and his finger. Again, no in or out, just there. So, the perp floated into the park, killed him, and then slithered off.”

  “Slithered?” Eddie repeated.

  “Oh, yeah, didn’t I mention that?” Beverly checked her clipboard yet again. “The only other tracks found were left by a snake that crawled through the blood.”

  “What kind of snake?” Eddie insisted.

  “Still don’t know,” Beverly countered. “But like our homeless man, it was one that moved sideways.”

  “You think a snake slashed up the Japanese guy?” Luis snickered.

  “Hard to use a sword without arms,” Beverly considered. “But it did make an appearance at both crime scenes.”

  “Let me ponder that a minute,” Eddie said, an idea clear in his mind. “I gotta use the can, excuse me.”

  Eddie turned and walked off. Luis and Beverly shrugged to each other as he left.

  “He’s flippin’ out,” Luis complained.

  “What’s his problem?”

  “His momma’s sick, dying.”

  “That’s rough,” Beverly frowned and looked after Eddie.

  “This case is messing with his mind. I mean, it’s like he’s hiding something.”

  “Why don’t you find out, Vasquez?”

  “How do I do that, Doc? He won’t open up to me.”

  She returned his gaze with an expression suggesting that he missed the obvious. “You’re a detective, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Beverly gave a gentle punch to his shoulder. “Follow him, big guy. You know, like a detective?”

  Luis grunted. “They only do that in books.”

  Meanwhile, Eddie entered the morgue bathroom and locked the door. It was a single-user model with only one toilet, which stood in plain sight inside the white-tiled room.

  But that wasn’t why he was there.

  He moved to the sink and the mirror above it. The silvery surface reflected his careworn face.

  Eddie tried to remember what happened with Drusilicus earlier that day, when in the heat of the moment his staff jumped into his hand.

  Eddie held out his hand, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

  Nothing happened.

  It was more than the concept of having it, he thought, it was the wanting.

  Eddie wanted his staff. He imagined it fondly, like a lost-love that he needed desperately.

  Wood slapped into his palm, and he felt the object growing. He opened his eyes to find the wooden rod solidly in his palm.

  He did it.

  He held the staff aloft, stared at the mirror, and spoke clearly, “Marlowe.”

  Nothing happened.

  Eddie frantically tried to remember what he’d done the first time he contacted the wizard. Once again, it was wanting that made it work.

  Eddie stood up straighter, faced the mirror and said louder, “Marlowe!”

  There was the tiniest flash of light, from where Eddie couldn’t be sure. The mirror’s surface began to look as if it was changing from solid to liquid; melting.

  Eddie gasped. It was beautiful.

  Ripples appeared in the center, like a lake with a pebble dropped in it.

  He heard a voice that sounded far away. “This is Marlowe.“

  “Marlowe, it’s Eddie. Hey, this is great—”

  “I’m sorry I can’t answer you at this time, but I’ve stepped away from my mirror…”

  “What the hell?” Eddie blurted.

  “Please leave your name and the best time to reach you after the gong and I’ll get back to you in another space and time.”

  “He has a damn answering machine on his mirror!” Eddie gave the floor a good “whack” with his staff in annoyance.

  There was a loud gong that not only reverberated in the too small room, it made the ripples in the glass go jagged.

  “Marlowe!” Eddie yelled. “It’s Eddie. Answer your damn mirror. I need to get in touch with Daniel. It’s v
ery important I talk to Daniel about—”

  The glass suddenly went blank, and Eddie found himself staring at a flat black square that looked like it absorbed all light. Then, the darkness cleared and Eddie recognized the bathroom he’d used at Marlowe’s townhouse. But there was no one there, only a blank wall.

  “H-hello?”

  “Lieutenant,” a voice answered primly. “Is it really necessary to shout?”

  Eddie squinted his eyes, but could see nothing. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Daniel Kraft. You yelled my name,” the voice replied huffily.

  “I can’t see you!” Eddie rose up on tiptoe to look down and then crouched to look up, to see if he could find Daniel hidden on the other side of the glass.

  “Lieutenant,” the voice jeered. “I’m a vampire? I cast no reflection in the glass.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” Eddie stared at the blank space and forced a smile. “Did I wake you?”

  “Why no, who would sleep during the day?” annoyance crept into his voice. “Except maybe a vampire!”

  “Yeah, well, sorry,” Eddie explained. “I really need your help.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, lieutenant. I have an appointment to crawl into my coffin until sundown, call me then.” The image of the bathroom began to waver.

  “No, no, Daniel, please, hear me out.”

  The mirror stopped fluctuating, and the tile work became very clear.

  “All right,” the disembodied voice sighed. “What is it?”

  “I’ve got a clue, but I can’t follow it up. How good are you at tracking?”

  “Good,” he admitted, and began to sound interested. “My eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell are far above human. Why?”

  “Abrax—”

  “Don’t say his name,” Daniel interrupted to cut him off. Then his voice lowered to a whisper. “This isn’t a secure reflection.”

  Eddie tried to absorb this concept, but to speak to a blank wall was difficult enough for him, so he went on. “The person…we’re pursuing…committed another murder last night.”

  “I heard about it. In the park.”

  “The only tracks leaving the scene were of a snake slithering sideways. It could be our…friend.”