I stepped forward to receive Mae, showing her into the room as the officer backed out again. I introduced her to everyone, including Gretchen, even though their meeting the morning before had nearly come to blows. Mae appeared to have moved past it, though, and she smiled graciously. Claudius, overcome by the presence of another woman, went through the same prostrations he had with Gretchen.
“All righty, then,” I said, separating his lips from Mae’s hand before Gretchen could voice her growing outrage. I steered Mae toward the bed. “I asked her here to take a look at the binding.”
“Why?” Gretchen said. “She’s just a big—”
“Nether-whisperer,” I cut in. “And the citywide wards picked up nether qualities in the box. If we can’t release the bonds, maybe she can coax them into loosening their hold. It’s worth a shot.”
“I’m always happy to help, hon,” Mae said.
She exclaimed over Sven’s handsomeness when I introduced them. The shadows of his face deepened, which I realized was a blush. After some more pleasantries, she set down her carrier and took the box onto her lap.
“Sven and I were talking about the Titanomachy earlier,” I said, waving Claudius and Gretchen over. I wanted everyone to hear what I’d been piecing together. “That was the mythological battle between the Titans and the gods of Olympus. When Zeus’s side won, he cast his father, Cronus, and his allies into Tartarus. It’s like a Hades below Hades. In many versions of the myths, that’s where Cronus’s story ends. But like the Hermes cult, there were Cronus cults too. And what was Cronus?”
Claudius pursed his lips in thought while Gretchen rolled her eyes.
“A god of time,” Sven said, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “He later became synonymous with Father Time, which is why he’s always shown with a scythe. Cronus used one to castrate his father, Uranus.”
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. I think an artifact from a Cronus cult made its way to the Discovery Society. That artifact bonded to someone, and now that someone is using potions and time structures—the shadow and actual presents—to extract organs for a ritual. A ritual intended to free Cronus from Tartarus.”
“Oh, my,” Claudius said, looking from me to Gretchen worriedly.
“That someone also has help, a shapeshifter who can assume any form, including Cerberus, suggesting it may have roots in the Greek mythos too. Fortunately, I think it’s confined to the shadow present.
Fear the shadow of many faces, I’d been told. But I wasn’t sure the same held true for the perp: a master of many places.
I pointed to the box Mae was whispering over. “All of this activity awakened the Hermes essence, and the Tablet put out a call. That call attracted perhaps the only person in the shadow city who practiced magic of a kind the Tablet could use.” I raised my finger to indicate Sven, who stared back for a second before nodding importantly.
“The bonding enhanced your runic abilities,” I said. “It also enabled you to cross into the actual present, where I believe you were meant to find help.” I gestured to indicate all of us present. The explanation also fit with the Doideag’s questions:
Can a children’s love restore lost time? The cult’s worship for Cronus, a god of time.
Can the fleet of foot avert the crime? A reference to Hermes, who was often depicted with winged feet.
One was trying to bring Cronus back; the other was intent on stopping him.
But Gretchen reared back, nearly losing her cloche hat. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, yes, it does,” I said. “Because if the ritual is as powerful as I think it is, not only will Cronus be freed from Tartarus, he’s going to want to cleanse the world and start over.”
“I believe Professor Croft is right,” Sven said. “Cronus presided over the Golden Age. According to the myths, there was no need for laws because his human creations were perfect. They behaved and worshipped him without question. There’s no way he’s going to stand for what we’ve become.”
Mae hmphed in agreement, a sound Buster tried to mimic.
“But it’s all happening in that stupid shadow present,” Gretchen shot back.
“That may be where it begins,” I said. “But once Cronus replaces humankind with another worshipping race over there, that worship will grow his power. Eventually he’ll want to take back what he considers his rightful domain—the entire Universe, our in-living-color part included. As a god of time, he’ll be able to transit from the shadow realm. The war that follows will be cataclysmic.”
I was thinking of Sven’s dream now as well as the Doideag’s prophecy.
“Far better if we keep him from emerging from Tartarus in the first place,” I said. “And that means finding the killer before he claims the blood of the final victim, and recovering the Cronus artifact.”
Mae gave the box a final pat and set it back beside Sven. “I believe I talked it into lightening up some.”
Gretchen scoffed, but when Claudius took a closer look, he said, “By Jove, she has,” and stared at Mae with newfound reverence. “I would love to learn about your, ah, methods. Perhaps some night over dinner?”
“Goodness, I’m afraid I don’t stay up that late.”
“Well, um, I’m sure we could arrange something—”
Gretchen huffed loudly. “It won’t last,” she said of the tempered box. “It’s still going to strangle him.”
Sven looked over at me. “Strangle me?”
“No, no,” I said quickly, stepping in front of Gretchen. “It’s desperate, but it’s not going to strangle you.”
I felt more confident saying that now, knowing Mae could soften the bonding. Once the Cronus threat was averted, I was counting on the Hermes Tablet to release him from its hold altogether. But before I could say as much, my phone rang. I excused myself and stepped away from the others.
“How is he?” Vega asked.
“Much better. Sitting up now and eating. Thanks again for arranging this.”
“Good. I’ve been going over the Discovery Society records Hoffman sent me, and I found a pair of items listed in last month’s inventory that are missing from this one’s. The first was a journal from a 1909 Arctic expedition.”
“Huh.” Not what I’d been expecting. “And the other one?”
“A compass from another expedition, to the North Pole, it looks like.”
That lined up with Eldred’s account of overhearing Walter Mims mention two stolen items, but neither one fit my theory at all.
“Anything else?” I asked with flagging hope.
“I’ll give the records another pass, but those were the only two discrepancies I found. Mims marked them, in fact.”
My phone beeped, and I checked the caller.
“Hey, could you hold on for a minute?” I said. “Hoffman’s calling, and I promised him an update.”
I switched over. “Hey.”
“Lassgard confessed,” he said.
Adrenaline shot through me. “To the murders?”
“Not yet, but he might as well have. To stealing from the collection rooms.”
“Really,” I said suspiciously. With the kind of pressure Hoffman was under, I could see him strong-arming a fragile Ludvig into admitting something he hadn’t done.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. But the team found a vault hidden in the back of his closet. They blew it open, and it was packed with old explorer crap. A couple still had tags from the club: a journal and compass.”
“Any older artifacts?” I asked. “Like something you’d find in an archeological dig?”
“The team didn’t report anything like that, but if he’s got it, he’ll tell me.” Hoffman let out a gruff chuckle. “The kid’s scared shitless. He’s singing up a storm.”
“Did he say why he called Walter Mims?”
“Don’t worry. I’m working up to that.”
“Wait for me,” I said. “I’m heading there now.”
I switched back to Vega and f
illed her in on the development.
“Do you think it’s him?” she asked.
“It looks bad, but if Ludvig can travel to the shadow present, I don’t think he’d stash the stolen goods here versus there. Sort of defeats the purpose. But I want to get over there before Hoffman screws this up.”
“Smart. Can I be doing anything?”
My thoughts went to the Discovery Society. Even if the major activity was happening in the shadow present, what clues might an entity operating between realities leave? What had been out of place?
“Actually, yeah,” I said after a moment. “I’m going to send you a photo I took at the club.”
I attached the image to a text and sent it to her, already feeling a little stupid.
“A medicine bottle?” she said.
“The doorman at the Discovery Society is taking it. Can you read the info on the label all right?”
“Yes, but what am I supposed to do with it?”
“It’s a hunch, I admit, but I want to know why his doctor prescribed it. Is that going to take a warrant?” I’d had enough contact with Eldred to know he wouldn’t give up the info voluntarily, especially since it had nothing to do with the investigation.
“I can get the information through a written request, but I’ll need to explain why it’s relevant.”
“How creative are you willing to get?”
She sighed. “If I wasn’t married to you…”
“I know, I know, I’d be in trouble.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
34
Claudius and Gretchen remained with Sven—Gretchen only because she still thought Bree-yark was coming—while a police cruiser took Mae and Buster home and another drove me downtown.
Hoffman was waiting outside the interview room when I arrived. I didn’t think the man could look any more rundown, but the bruised bags under his eyes had grown their own bags. He was also starting to stink. His lips contorted into a mean smile as he jerked his thumb toward the one-way mirror.
“I was about to go back in without you, but look—the long wait softened him up even more.” He snorted a laugh. “Would you get a load of that sap?”
Beyond the mirror, Ludvig sat at a small metal table, his curtains of blond hair shaking as he sobbed into his cuffed hands. He let out what at first sounded like one of his giggles, but it tailed off into a pitiful whine.
“Let’s go,” I said, not enjoying the show nearly as much as Hoffman.
He led the way in, limping on his ortho boot, and we took the chairs opposite Ludvig.
“Cheer up,” Hoffman said. “I brought you a friend.”
Ludvig peered up and then wiped his crossed eyes with the sides of his hands. “Ev—Everson?” he stammered.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said. “I’m helping out with the investigation. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s true,” he said. “I—I took them, but it wasn’t stealing. Or if it was, I was stealing them back. All of the things in my vault belonged to my great grandfather, Jesper Lassgard. When he died, the Discovery Society claimed them. My mother fought for them, but he never deeded them, and the Society had better lawyers. The items belong with the Lassgard family.” His eyes straightened with determination.
“So you were never interested in membership?” I said. “You just wanted access?”
He nodded, sobbing once before controlling himself again. “I copied Walter’s master key. Over time, I located all of my great grandfather’s things in the collections. Then it was a matter of replacing them with counterfeits. I succeeded until the final two. Walter told me he was about to move them to a warehouse, along with an entire polar collection, so I took the journal and compass that night. But before I could replace them, he noticed them missing.”
I remembered what Eldred had said: He’s cleverer than he lets on.
“And that’s why you played the fool,” I said. “So no one would think you capable of that level of deception.” I suspected the foolery also included him soliciting sponsorship for a wizard. He’d fooled me, that was for sure.
“Yes, but I never meant to get Walter into trouble.”
“He was in trouble?” Hoffman grunted. “What for?”
“The missing items. The collection belongs to the endowment, but it was Walter’s responsibility. Some suspected me—I know Eldred did—but Walter only asked me one time if I knew anything about the missing items, and I told him no. He was prepared to bear the consequences, and I—I couldn’t allow that. He had nothing to do with the Society seizing them. Even though the sponsorship was a con on my part, he was always very tolerant of me. He answered my strange questions. And now he’s—”
He began sobbing into his hands again. Hoffman gave me a tired look that told me he didn’t believe the show for a second. But for me, it added up.
“Tell us why you called Walter earlier today,” I said.
Ludvig nodded and wiped his eyes on his shirt collar this time.
“I was going to come clean,” he said, “at least about those two items. I—I was going to offer to return them and ask—well, plead—that he not report me, that he say they were found in a stock room, no harm done. He would be off the hook, and I would promise never to set foot in the club again.”
That explained why Walter had left his apartment despite the police warning.
“Is that why you killed him?” Hoffman asked. “’Cause he wouldn’t play along.”
Ludvig shook his head emphatically. “By the time I got to our meeting place, the police were there. At first I thought he’d called them, that it was a sting, so I left. I only found out later he’d been killed.”
“And we’re supposed to swallow that shit?” Hoffman said.
“Did you ever take anything else from the collection?” I asked, talking over Hoffman. “Anything that wasn’t your great grandfather’s?”
“No, just his maps, journals, and some instruments and gear.”
“Why are three fellows of the Council dead?” Hoffman asked bluntly.
“I have no idea at all. If I did, I would tell you.”
“Sure you would,” Hoffman said.
I signaled for a recess, and Hoffman and I went back out into the hall.
“I believe him,” I said.
“That’s why you’re not a detective,” he snarled. “C’mon, his place is hot with stolen shit from the club, and you said it yourself—one of those things was probably cursed. Sent him on a killing spree. We’ve got our guy.”
“The items don’t fit what we’re looking for,” I said. “And ‘our guy’ wouldn’t have surrendered to the police so easily. He needs the blood from his final victim.”
A door opened, and Vega walked in carrying a folded piece of paper.
“How’s it going with Lassgard?” she asked.
“Better if your husband wasn’t being such a tool,” Hoffman said.
“He got you this far, didn’t he?”
While Hoffman grumbled, she opened the piece of paper.
“The info on the Fludrocortisone,” she said, as I stepped around to peer over her shoulder.
“It’s a low blood pressure med, but it’s also prescribed in cases of orthostatic intolerance. The doctor admitted it’s a fallback when the problem can’t be diagnosed.” She looked up at me. “Eldred was having blackouts.”
My heart skipped. “When did they start?”
“Last month. He told the doctor he’d hear buzzing and then have about two minutes to lie down before he passed out. The episodes ranged anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple hours. It started suddenly with no triggers that he could think of. All of his scans and EEGs came back fine.”
I turned to Hoffman. “Is the Sup Squad still at the Discovery Society?”
“Should be,” he grunted.
“Tell them to detain Eldred.”
He looked from me to the interview room and back. “What the hell for?”
The explanation fit with some
thing Claudius had said at the Waldorf: If you existed in one realm but not the other, you traveled back and forth as you were. If you existed in both, you shifted from one form to the other.
“Because Eldred’s shadow is the killer,” I said.
While Hoffman called the Sup Squad, I explained my thinking to Vega.
“The Cronus artifact I had in mind never arrived here. It arrived there, in the shadow present. Eldred’s shadow found it, and it compelled him. Just like the Hermes Tablet compelled Sven. The difference is that Sven doesn’t exist here, so he’s able to travel between the two realms. Eldred does, so his shadow has to occupy his form.”
“Explaining his sudden blackouts,” she said, nodding.
“I think the shadow Eldred had the artifact for a while. The shapeshifter is probably its guardian, much like the animations are for the Hermes box. He used the artifact and shifter to assume power there, transforming the Discovery Society from a scientific organization into a cult to Cronus.” I was going off what Sven’s classmate had told him.
“Eldred became the ‘master of many places,’” I continued. “‘Many places’ signifying the nature of the club. When the faith in Cronus reached a certain pitch, he was ordered to perform a powerful ritual that involved harvesting pure organs and blood.” My words were coming faster as I tried to keep pace with my avalanching thoughts. “But, clean or not, the shadow organs weren’t going to be potent enough—he needed the real articles. So he brewed a potion that would bind the fellows to their shadows, possessed the actual Eldred to slip the potion to them here, extracted the organs back there, and voila. He has the organs without leaving any evidence of his crimes in our reality.”
“But what was it about the fellows?” Vega asked. “Why harvest from them and not easier marks?”
“I think it relates to something Sunita told me. She said Bear was obsessed with a gene called 7Rb, a variant of what’s known as the ‘explorer gene.’ He was funding research into it. The gene only exists in a small percentage of people, and in addition to exploration, it’s believed to spur innovation, one of the most important assets in Bear’s industry. He wanted to develop a therapy that could maximize the gene’s expression. Sunita said his profile for the gene was off the charts. Given Robert Strock’s and Walter Mims’s pedigrees and achievements, I wouldn’t be surprised if the same were true of their 7Rb expressions.”
Shadow Duel (Prof Croft Book 9) Page 21