by Amy Isaman
“All right, then. Go upstairs. To the second story. I think you can see most of the street from the front bedroom window. When it’s clear, call me. We’ll time it. From the time you call, I’ll come down the street, you leap in. We’ll leave. Fast.”
“Don’t hang up. Let me get up there.”
Darius listened to her breath as she climbed the stairs. “Are you at the window? Stay low. What do you see?” he asked.
Susan’s voice dropped. “There’s a car coming down the street driving super slow. I might be in here awhile. I hope there’s some food.”
Darius stifled a laugh.
“He’s passing the house now.”
“Tell me when it’s gone, and I’ll be right there. And hang on to that damn phone.”
“Right. Fuck. He stopped at the end of the street. Pulled over.”
Darius banged his head on the seat’s headrest. They did not have time for this.
“You still there?” Susan asked a few minutes later.
“Yeah.”
“Good. He left. Come get me. I’m comin’ out.”
Darius pulled from the lot and sped toward Mr. Coates’ street. He wasn’t sure if he should speed down the street, cram on the breaks, and take off or if he should drive slowly and unobtrusively. He’d had enough creeping around, but the Smart car wasn’t exactly built for speed. Damn, he wanted his motorcycle. He ended up driving up to get Susan like an old man. He stopped the car, and she leapt in just as another car pulled onto the block.
Darius gunned it, which didn’t actually end up doing much, and drove as fast as the gutless car could go down the street and around the corner.
“You’ve got the phone?” he asked as soon as they made it far enough away to feel somewhat safe.
Susan deigned to make a response.
“Fine,” Darius huffed. “Check it. Are there any missed calls?”
“No idea. Battery’s dead.”
Chapter 28
I CLIMBED INTO THE mini-van next to Collin.
“Where to?” he asked, one eyebrow raised annoyingly high.
It occurred to me that, yet again, I didn’t know. When we went to the house, we’d driven through the London streets on Darius’ motorcycle. I’d been so caught up with solving this mystery that I hadn’t paid attention to any landmarks we passed. Rifling through my purse, I searched for the slip of paper the librarian gave us with George Coates’ address, but I was fairly sure I gave it to Darius. He looked up the address on his phone and never gave it back.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it said but couldn’t recall anything. Thinking of my run through the neighborhood, I could just picture dark street after dark street filled with homes and small yards. I didn’t even pay attention to the name of the bar that I finally reached where I called for a cab.
“Tricia? Are you there?” Collin glanced over at me and patted my leg. “I know it’s been rough. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but I need to know where to go, so we can find her.”
“I’ve no idea.”
“You’ve no idea? I thought we were off to get your phone, so we could find this last card. You need that card.”
“Laurel, Collin. I need to find Laurel. The only reason I care about the card is so that we can get Laurel.”
“Yes, I get that, but I don’t know how to get back to the house. Do you remember who’s house it was?”
“His name is George Coates. He’s a collector of occult material. Have you heard of him?”
“No, I don’t know him, but here’s my phone. Look him up and see if we can find an address.”
I took his phone and began a quick search. “Got it.” My whole body sagged into the seat with as much relief as overwhelm. We’d get my phone and then what?
I sat up a bit straighter and thought back to the dream. It was another vivid dream, like the one upon our arrival at the Inn. The card was in a packet behind a brick. In a tower? Or was it any old brick wall? Half of London was built of brick. How could I find the brick wall that held the Devil card? Had George Coates’ house been built with brick? The Inn? I hadn’t seen the wall from my dream yet. I could envision it, and if I’d seen it by now, I’d know it.
Where was it?
This early in the morning, traffic was light. It felt quiet, peaceful. In perfect contrast to the turmoil that had been churning in my gut since Laurel vanished.
I rubbed my eyes and stared out the window. Dreams, following my gut, tarot readings–who had I become? I found myself trusting my gut more than my usual methodical approach or intellectual pragmatism that got me this far in life. It was all I had to go on, and so far, it hadn’t let me down, which felt big and new and a little overwhelming.
The voice navigator on Collin’s phone broke me from my reverie. “Turn right,” she chirped in a perky British voice.
Collin glanced over at me. “You’ve got three cards so far, yeah?”
I nodded and gripped my purse tighter, feeling for the outline of the Yeats book. I would not let it out of my grasp again.
Collin continued, “And the last one is the Devil card. The Three of Swords was in the Yeats book.” He grinned. “That one is impressive that you figured it out. What have you got on the Devil?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you got any thoughts on where she might have hidden it? You said something last night about the Devil being with the beginning.”
“Yes, that’s all I’ve got. ‘The Devil resides with the beginning,’ but I’ve got no idea what that means. We thought it meant with the actual beginning. We searched through the family bible, thinking maybe Genesis, but it wasn’t there. I think it might have something to do with the Golden Dawn. That seems to be the beginning of the family’s strife.”
“It’s Aleister Crowley, then,” Collin murmured, almost inaudibly.
“Come again? Who?”
Collin banged his hand on his steering wheel in excitement and the car sped up slightly. “That’s got to be it.”
I shook my head in confusion. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Google him. If I remember correctly, he was one of the founders of the Golden Dawn. There was some big falling out, and he raided the meeting place to confiscate the Order’s belongings. There was a big dramatic episode, and I think shortly thereafter the Order fell apart. But Crowley became pretty famous for his dealings in the occult.” Collin fell silent and tapped his chin, a habit I remembered from our college days when he would lose himself in thought.
I pulled up Aleister Crowley’s entry on Wikipedia and scanned through several paragraphs, convinced that Collin was taking us on a wild goose chase until I read that Mr. Crowley was known in the press as “the wickedest man in the world” and a Satanist. I gasped.
“Collin! You might be right.” I read him pieces of the entry.
“Yes, and if I recall correctly, he had some sort of temple that he started after the Golden Dawn debacle too. Is that in there? The Abbey of something?”
“Yes, but it’s in Sicily.”
“No, not that one. There’s another one. Here. In London.”
I scanned further and found it, reading aloud, “The headquarters of his AA organization in 1907 was at 124 Victoria Street. Could that be it?”
Collin grinned. “It’s worth a shot. But we’ve got to get your phone first.” He made a left turn, and I finally recognized the street.
“It’s right there,” I whispered, pointing to the house, as Collin pulled the van into an empty spot next to the curb.
Collin laughed loudly. “No one can hear us in here. You can speak. How did you get in yesterday?”
“We found a hide-a-key in the back. Unlocked the door and walked right in. But I think Darius still has the key. I suppose I’ll have to break a window in the back.”
“Bloody hell,” Collin murmured, looking in his rear-view mirror.
“What?”
“Flattie’s here.”
Huh? I turne
d in my seat to watch a cruiser slowly drive down the street. The officer looked at both of us before stopping his car, right in the middle of the road, blocking us in. My palms immediately began to sweat as he signaled to Collin to roll the window down.
“What might you be doing here at this hour?” He asked, leaning his head in and surveying both of us.
Collin grinned amiably. “Good morning. My friend here is visiting me from America, and we were trying to get to her hotel. Got myself a bit turned around, so we pulled over to check the map.”
I held up Collin’s phone and grinned. “Yes. sir. Just lost. Is there something wrong?”
He shrugged. “The neighborhood watch is pretty active here. They had several reports of suspicious activity in the area, so we’ve been patrolling tonight. Why don’t you go ahead and move on? I’ll get out of your way.” He backed up and followed Collin’s mini-van as we drove down the street.
I wanted to scream, and in fact, I did a bit. “We’ve GOT to get my phone!” I whirled around in my seat and stared at the retreating house. “We can’t leave.”
“Tricia,” Collin said, laying his hand on my knee. “If you get arrested, you’ll be in jail for twenty-four or thirty-six hours. You’ll have to get the American Embassy involved. You’ll have no chance.”
“But what about Laurel? How will the kidnappers reach me?”
“Do they know you were with Darius? Can they reach him?”
“NO! I don’t know! Maybe? How would they know I was with Darius?” I could feel the panic lacing my words as my voice got higher and higher pitched.
“Of course, they know you were with Darius. Somehow, you two alerted these mental blokes that you found this treasure, and they took your daughter, yeah?”
“Yes, okay. If they can reach Darius, we need to get back to the Inn and find him. Now. God, I hope he’s there and not in jail.”
Chapter 29
COLLIN TOOK A LEFT turn at the end of his street and accelerated. “You said 124 Victorian Street was where Aleister Crowley’s headquarters was?”
I glanced back at his phone, which still was opened to the Wikipedia entry. “That’s what Wikipedia says, so who knows. This is a wiki, Collin. Anyone can update it at any time. It could say that Abraham Lincoln had his headquarters there, too. But, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve got to get to the Inn.”
Collin laid his hand on my knee, patting it as if I was a small child. “We’ll get there, but first, let’s get this last card. We’ve still got hours before the kidnapper’s deadline. We’ve got time.”
I stared at his hand before shoving it off of my leg. “Don’t patronize me, Collin. This is my daughter we’re talking about. These crazy people will kill her. I’ve got three cards. Maybe that’s enough, so if they call, I need to be able to tell them that. I need my phone.” I glared at Collin. “You need to take me back to the Inn. Now. There’s still a chance they can reach me through Darius, if he’s even there and didn’t get arrested last night. And I don’t think I can find these cards without him.”
“We’ll go to the inn, but Victoria Street is actually not that far out of the way. We can do both.”
“Collin.” I spoke slowly, so he’d understand. “Go to the Inn, now.” I was ready to leap into the driver’s seat and wrestle the steering wheel from him. Why didn’t he get it? This was my daughter’s life we were talking about.
“Tell me how you found the other cards. You said you dreamt about the first card. Are you getting some sort of visions? Do you know where this last card is? If we can find the building, will you be able to find the card?”
“I’m not psychic, Collin.” I stared out the window, but then realized with a start that I could be just a wee bit psychic. I’d been following my gut and so far, it worked. And now my gut was telling me to find Darius. As soon as I could.
I interrupted the silence. “Maybe I am psychic, Collin, and I might know where the final card is. I’ll tell you. But first, let’s go to the Inn.” I prayed he would take the bait on this.
He grinned. “So, if we were to get into the house at 124 Victoria Street, you think you could go directly to the card?”
Frustration coursed through me. All he wanted was the card. He didn’t care about Laurel at all. “Possibly.” I clenched my fists and realized that I still held his phone. I searched for the Silver Birch Inn.
“Read me some more about Crowley. What did they do at his headquarters? I’d be interested to find out how Anna Teresa got in there. What year did you say she hid the cards?”
I ignored his incessant questioning and pressed “call” on his phone. The phone rang once, then paused for a lengthy pause and rang again.
“Yes? Hello? Hello?” A breathless Darius shouted into the phone. “Don’t hang up. I’m here.”
The sound of his voice calmed me. “Okay. I won’t hang up. It’s me.” I blinked back tears. “It’s me, Tricia.”
Silence. Then, “Tricia? Tricia Seaver?” He spoke slowly, but his voice had an edge to it now that I hadn’t heard before. “Where are you?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m on Collin’s phone. I lost my phone, Darius. I tried to go back and get it, but the police were still patrolling George’s neighborhood. I thought you’d be in jail. What happened?”
“You’re with Collin? Right now? Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ nothing else.”
“Yes,” I pulled the phone from my ear to check the bars of service. It was full service, just like I’d expect in the middle of London which meant he could hear me fine.
“We’re in his car. We—”
“Tricia, are you on speaker phone?” Darius spoke with an eerie calm.
“No, why?”
“I need you to listen to me. Hold the phone closely to your ear, so he can’t hear what I’m saying.”
My stomach dropped. I’d never heard that tone in his voice. Had I been wrong this whole time? Did he have Laurel in one of the rooms at the Inn?
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Tricia, stop talking. Listen to me.” Darius said, his voice slightly louder.
I glanced over at Collin who looked at me with confusion. “What’s going on?” He mouthed the words silently.
I shrugged and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Tricia,” Darius intoned again in his calm voice. “It’s Collin. He took her.”
“Wait. What are you saying? What do you mean?”
“Tricia, be quiet. Please. This number that you’re calling from? It’s the same phone that called you yesterday when we were in the parking lot at the Police Station in Wendover. It’s him. He’s got Laurel. Get out of there and don’t let him know that you know.”
My mind swirled. Collin thought Darius was behind the whole nightmare. Now Darius was saying that I was calling from the kidnapper’s phone? I closed my eyes.
“Tricia,” Darius continued. “All the calls to the Inn are forwarded to my mobile phone unless the receptionist is here. It’s the same number.” He spoke slowly and deliberately, like he was speaking to a toddler.
“So… she’s…” I stopped talking. I couldn’t ask the questions I needed to if I was sitting next to Laurel’s abductor. If Collin had Laurel and knew where she was, he would want to go find the final card rather than my daughter. If I found my daughter, he wouldn’t get any cards. I stifled a gasp and swallowed back a sudden wave of nausea.
“Tricia? Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. So, then, where is she?”
“What’s he saying?” Collin asked, glancing over. “I need the phone to navigate. You’ll have to get off.”
Darius repeated himself. “Get out. Now. Come to the Inn. She’s got to be at his house. Or his office. Collin’s got her, Tricia. And I have your phone. Susan and I retrieved it.”
“You did? It’s at the Inn?”
“Yes. Please get away from Collin. Now. Come to the Inn. We’ll go get Laurel.”
“Okay, Darius,” I murmured. “I, uh, need to go.” An
d I hung up the phone. If Collin had Laurel somewhere, he couldn’t figure out that Darius knew it.
“Does he have Laurel?” Collin’s pale face whitened further as the blood drained from it. He looked terrified. If Darius was right, Collin was a damn good actor. Or maybe he thought Darius found her while he was with me, and he knew he’d been found out?
I shook my head, unsure of how to respond.
“He’s got Laurel?” Collin asked again.
“No, why are you asking me that?” I shoved my hands into my lap to hide their shaking.
“Well, you asked him where she was? As if he knew? I thought that maybe…” his voice trailed off as I stared at him.
“Maybe what?”
He shrugged. “Maybe he heard from the kidnappers again and traded for her, or something.” He stared out of the windshield, refusing to make eye contact.
“Uh, no. She’s still gone. But he did manage to retrieve my phone.”
We drove in silence for a few blocks, my mind racing. Collin and Lucy knew about the cards from the very beginning. All they would have needed to do was follow us around London and wait for an opportunity to grab Laurel. Collin kept saying it was Darius, but of course he would try to convince me of that. Now, I needed to get rid of Collin. “Did I tell you I had another dream last night in your kitchen?” I held onto Collin’s phone and unobtrusively slid it into the side pocket on my purse as I began to talk.
He shook his head and glanced at me warily.
“I did. I think you might be right about this Aleister Crowley fellow. I found the first card after a dream, too. I’ve been following my gut with this whole thing, Collin. And you know me. I don’t do that. This whole thing has been crazy.”
“Yes, it has,” he affirmed. “Go on, Tricia. Maybe I can help you decipher your dream.”
“I need you to do some research.” I hoped that my ‘research trip’ would keep him occupied.
“Yes, sure.”
“I dreamed of a studio. An artist. You know Darius’ great-grandfather was an artist, right? Darius had stacks of old paintings in a small storage room at the Inn, but this painting that I dreamed of? I’m not sure that his great-grandfather painted this one. After reading about Crowley on Wikipedia and looking at the images online, I think I dreamed of a painting of Aleister Crowley. Anna Teresa put the card behind his image. It’s somehow attached to one of his portraits. If we find the portrait, we find the card. You were right, Collin. He’s the devil where it all started. He’s the beginning.”