“Good,” Burt said. Ernie nodded.
“What jobs do you two do around here?” Rachel asked.
“We pick up shipments at the airport or the dock. We unpack ‘em, clean ‘em up if Seymour says to, pack ‘em up when somebody buys ‘em, that sort of thing,” Burt said. Ernie nodded.
“Does that keep you busy?”
The two men looked at each other. “Not really,” Burt said. “When a shipment comes in, it can take a few days to check all the stuff in. When things sell, it’s usually small shipments. Don’t tell nobody, but it’s pretty easy work.” Ernie nodded.
“Sounds like Seymour and Mary are pretty good bosses,” Rachel said.
“I worked for Mary before she married Seymour,” Burt said. “You couldn’t ask for a better boss—as long as you don’t skip no steps or forget no details. She’s kind of like an aunt to me, except she’s not older.”
“Do you like it here also, Ernie?” Rachel asked.
Ernie nodded.
“Quieres que hablemos Español?” I asked.
“No, I understand English,” Ernie said.
“Ernie talks English good enough,” Burt said. “He just don’t like to talk much in any language.”
“How long have you worked here?” Rachel asked Ernie.
“Eight years,” Ernie answered.
“When we started gettin' big stuff comin’ in, I couldn’t lift it all by myself. I’ve known Ernie a long time, and I got him the job here to help me,” Burt explained. “Mary says good help is hard to find, and she keeps us on even when things are slow. I hope that don’t change.”
“That’s what we’re working on,” Rachel said. “Has anything been different around here lately?”
“We’ve been in one of our slow times for a couple of months,” Burt said. “No shipments comin’ in, but still shippin’ things out.” Ernie nodded.
“Has anything been different with Mary and Seymour?”
Burt shrugged. “Seymour just got back from a trip a week ago. He don’t come back in the warehouse much unless we’re gettin’ stuff comin’ in.”
“How about Mary?”
“She’s been kinda tense,” Burt said looking at Ernie. Ernie nodded.
“Why do you think she’s been tense?” Rachel asked.
The two men looked at each other. “I dunno,” Burt said.
“Could Mary and Seymour have been having troubles?”
“I dunno, maybe. Mary don’t talk about her personal life.”
“Have there been any visitors to the warehouse?”
“Nope,” Burt said. Ernie shook his head.
“Anything strange happened?”
“Nope,” Burt said.
Ernie nudged Burt and said, “How about the ghost?”
“There ain’t no such thing as ghosts,” Burt replied.
“What about a ghost?” Rachel asked Ernie.
Ernie looked at the floor and then looked at Burt.
“Ernie thinks he saw a ghost in the warehouse last Friday,” Burt said.
“Tell us about it, Ernie,” Rachel said sweetly.
Ernie shuffled his feet a little and said, “It was closing time and Burt had already gone home. I came back from the men’s room, and I saw a man standing in the middle of the room. He turned and saw me and just kept looking at me. Then he started to get fuzzy, there was a flash of light, and he was gone.”
“Did you notice anything on the floor around this ghost?”
“Sí, I thought there was a circle of small papers around him, but wasn’t nothing there after he disappeared.”
“What did the man look like?”
“He looked like a ghost. He was pale and he had white hair. He wore funny clothes, too.”
“I believe you, Ernie,” Rachel said. “I’ve seen that sort of thing myself. Here, take a couple of my cards and call me if anything else unusual happens.”
“Sure thing,” Burt said. Ernie nodded.
“Is anything missing from the warehouse?” Rachel asked.
“I don’t think so,” Burt said. Connie helps us take inventory twice a year, but we ain’t counted things lately. Nothin’ big is missin’.”
“Thanks, guys,” Rachel said. “Please call me if you see or remember anything unusual.”
We left the warehouse and said goodbye to Connie in the office. Rachel left a business card with Connie, and we hopped in Fred to head home. I put the Coriolis and tripod back in my magic bag, but I left Rachel’s Mojo in the steel box.
“Do you think any of those three had anything to do with the murder?” I asked.
“My gut says ‘No.’ Burt and Ernie are clear for sure, and Connie didn’t seem to be hiding anything from us.”
“It sounds like Ernie saw a translocation,” I said.
“No doubt. He scared off somebody last Friday, two days before Seymour’s murder. I’ll bet whoever it was has been back in the warehouse since then.”
“Do you think he was after the Chinese jade artifacts?”
“We don’t know enough to say for sure,” Rachel said. “We’d just be jumping to conclusions. That’s something you have to watch out for in an investigation. You learn two interesting facts, and you just assume that they’re related. They may be related, but we have to keep our minds open.”
“Good thinking,” I said. “It’ll take us less than half an hour to get to Mary’s house in Dunthorpe, and we’ve got over an hour until our appointment. Can we get some lunch?”
“It’ll have to be fast food,” Rachel said. “Are you up for that?”
“Sure, but it’s lunch time. Nothing but a drive-through will actually be fast.”
“How about a Whopper?”
“Can you eat a Whopper and drive? It’s pretty messy.”
“Leave it to you to think about messy,” Rachel replied, “but you’re right. How about a burrito from Taco Bell?”
“I prefer fish tacos from Taco Del Mar,” I said.
“But they don’t have a drive-through. Let’s just go to McDonald’s. Their coffee is good.”
“Their coffee is adequate,” I said. “Starbuck’s coffee is good.”
“Don’t be such a snob. A Big Mac and coffee won’t kill you.”
“I don’t like their ‘special sauce’.”
“What? Get a cheeseburger then.”
“I think I’ll have a Filet-o-Fish,” I said.
“You want a fries with that?”
“I don’t like McDonald’s fries.”
“Get outta here! McDonald’s fries are the standard by which all fries are judged.”
“Well, I like fries that exceed the standard,” I declared.
“I can’t take you anywhere! How do you eat when you’re in a hurry?”
“I’m not usually rushed when I’m hungry. I usually have my meal times planned.”
“Look, either give me some good suggestions or go hungry.”
“I’ll have a Filet-o-Fish and coffee with cream.”
“OK, that’s settled, then,” Rachel said.
“How much is McDonald’s coffee?”
“It’s a dollar.”
“For what size?”
“What size? Any size! I’ll just get you a large. How long has it been since you ate at McDonald’s?”
“Let’s see, I think it was about ten years ago,” I said.
“Ten years! No wonder you think McDonald’s coffee is just adequate. A lot of things have changed in ten years.”
“They still have Filet-o-Fish, don’t they?”
“Yes, they still have Filet-o-Fish. There’s one up ahead. I’m going to order you a Filet-o-Fish and a large coffee with two creams—that’ll come out Halle Berry.” Rachel knows that I like for my coffee with cream to have the same complexion as Halle Berry.
“Good. That’s what I’ll have then.”
We got our food and headed to Dunthorpe. Rachel got a double cheeseburger, small fries and a large black coffee. Of course, she only ate half t
he burger and fries.
“So how’s the coffee?” Rachel asked.
“OK, I’ll admit it isn’t terrible.”
“It isn’t terrible? Is it, possibly, good?”
“It’s not as dark a roast as I’m used to but it’s OK.”
“Professor, you’ve got to get out more.”
Chapter 15
We arrived at the Martingale residence a few minutes early, and the maid let us in. She directed us to the living room, and she went to get Mary.
“Hi, I’m Mary Martingale,” she said as she entered the room.
“Hi, I’m Rachel Chase and this is my associate, Robert Walker.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Mary said. “Charlene has told me all about you.”
I doubted that Charlene had told her all about us, but Mary seemed pleased that we were on the case. Mary had medium length dark hair that she held back off her face with a headband over the top of her head. She was in her mid forties, about five foot seven with a medium build.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Mary asked.
“No thank you,” Rachel replied. “We don’t want to take up any more of your time than is absolutely necessary.”
“It seems that I have nothing but time on my hands right now,” Mary replied. “I’m a prisoner in my own home. Please, have a seat; I’m at your disposal.”
Rachel and I sat in armchairs, and Mary sat at one end of the couch.
“We talked with your employees at your warehouse a little while ago,” Rachel said. “We’re just trying to talk to the people you knew your husband. I know you’ve told the police about your husband’s death, but we’d like to hear it directly from you, if you don’t mind.”
“OK,” Mary said. “Where should I begin?”
“Start with what you were doing starting a few hours before your husband’s death,” Rachel answered.
“It was Sunday afternoon, and I had been sitting on the back deck reading and enjoying the sunshine. I was trying to take my mind off of the business.”
“Was there something worrying you about your business?” Rachel asked.
“Well, this is a slow time for us. We have these periods when I have to work harder to clear out excess inventory. Usually, Seymour slows down on his acquisition efforts so that we don’t keep bringing in more inventory during the slow times. We need to conserve our cash until we make more sales. This time however, Seymour was actively cultivating a new source and planning to import antiquities from them.”
“Who is this new supplier and where are they?”
“Seymour just calls the supplier ‘Mr. Tsong.’ He’s supposed to be in China, but Seymour met him in Singapore a week ago. He brought back three artifacts on consignment. There are supposed to be more where those came from.”
“What are the three artifacts worth?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t think that they’re as rare as Seymour thought, and that brings me back to last Sunday. Seymour wanted me to put a high priority on selling the artifacts so that he could start importing more from Mr. Tsong. I just had this nagging thought that something was wrong with the artifacts, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Seymour was in the study, so I went to the study to talk to him.”
“What time was that?” Rachel asked.
“It was a little after six o’clock.”
“Did you lock the door to the office when you went in to talk to Seymour?”
“No. There was no reason to lock the door.”
“Was the door locked after Seymour’s death, when you left the office?”
“I don’t remember. Everything after I discovered Seymour’s body is sort of a blur.”
“What happened when you went into Seymour’s office?”
“It isn’t just Seymour’s office; we both use the study as a home office, but he was already in there when I went to talk to him. I brought up the sore point of the new artifacts, and he got defensive. We’ve had that same argument a few times, and we were just rehashing our same objections and defenses. I wanted to take the artifacts to an independent appraiser, but Seymour didn’t think that was unnecessary.”
“Did Seymour get violent or threatening?”
“Oh no. We were arguing, but neither of us was at all threatening.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then, I woke up sitting in an armchair. Seymour was lying motionless on the floor. I ran out of the study and told Maria to call for an ambulance. The next thing I remember is a medic talking to me.”
“Do you remember falling asleep in the office?” Rachel asked.
“No. I don’t even remember being tired or sleepy. I don’t remember the outcome of my argument with Seymour or anything. Maybe I was given some sort of drug, like a roofie.”
“Did you eat or drink anything while you were in the office?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else come into the office?”
“No.”
“Did you get any phone calls?”
“No.”
“Was there anything different about Seymour on Sunday?”
“No. He’s been distracted and agitated since he got back from Singapore, but nothing was different on Sunday.”
“Is there anything else about Sunday that you can tell us?”
“No. Except for Seymour’s death, it was just another ordinary Sunday.”
“Seymour left a note with Connie saying that he had taken one of the three new artifacts home with him,” Rachel said. “Did you know about that?”
“No, I didn’t,” Mary answered. “Which one did he take?”
“The bi.”
“I haven’t seen it. It’s probably the least expensive of the three anyway,” Mary said. “Besides being broken, it’s the one whose authenticity I question the most.”
“Where would Seymour have put it?”
“I’m sure it’s here in the study somewhere,” Mary said. “This is the only place we keep work-related stuff.”
“Can we look for it in the study?” Rachel asked.
“Certainly. The police removed the crime scene tape, so we can take a look now.”
Mary led us into the study, and she sat down behind the desk. She looked through all the drawers, but didn’t find the bi. Rachel had looked through all the drawers the previous day, and she hadn’t found anything suspicious.
“Maybe he hid it,” Mary said as she stood up and moved to the bookcase. She took a book from the center of one of the shelves and placed it on the desk. Mary opened the book to reveal a rectangular hole cut into the pages of the book. In the hole was a broken jade disk.
“Here it is,” Mary said as she handed the bi to Rachel. Rachel examined it and then handed it to me.
“Do you have a safe here at home?” Rachel asked.
“No. We have one at work, but not here.”
“Do you mind if I test the bi for magic?” I asked.
“Magic?” Mary responded. You can test it for magic? What do you mean by magic?”
“It’s complicated,” I replied, “but I can detect if an object was used for magical purposes. I can’t tell what those purposes were, but I can tell if it’s just ornamental or spiritual.”
“How do you do that?” Mary asked.
“I won’t harm the bi in any way,” I said. “I just put it under a pendulum.”
“I guess that’ll be OK,” Mary said.
“Great. I’ll go to the car and get my stuff.” Rachel gave me her car keys and I went to her car and brought back my magic bag.
“We can’t do the test here in the office,” I said.
“Why not?” Mary asked.
“Because I tested this room for the presence of magic yesterday, and the test was positive. There may still be a little residual magic here. Which room is the greatest distance from this office?”
“I guess that would be the kitchen,” Mary said. “Follow me.”
The bi was a broken jade disk about four inches in diam
eter with a one-inch hole in the center. Images were carved on both sides of the disk. About one-third of the disk was missing. I set up the Coriolis on its tripod and placed the bi underneath it. I started the Coriolis swinging in counter-clockwise circles, and we watched and waited. The Coriolis slowed down making smaller and smaller circles, just like an ordinary pendulum would have.
“This artifact doesn’t have any magic,” I announced.
“Did you test the other two artifacts?” Mary asked.
“Yes. They do have magic.”
“Strange,” Mary replied.
“Mary, would it be alright if we take this bi with us?” Rachel asked.
“It’s not magic, it’s broken, and it may not even be authentic,” Mary replied. “I suppose I could let you borrow it.”
“I should let you know that the bi may be associated with your husband’s death, Mary,” Rachel said. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll get it back. However, I do believe that you’ll be safer if you don’t have it in your home. It may be crucial to our investigation.”
“Yes, please take it,” Mary said. “I’m starting to get spooked by it. If you can return it after you prove my innocence, that’s great. If you can’t, I’ll understand.”
I put the bi in my pocket.
“Thank you very much for your help, Mary,” Rachel said. “We won’t take up any more of your time today. Take my card, and please call me if you think of anything else or if you have any questions.”
“Thank you both for working on my case,” Mary said as we all headed for the door.
We said our goodbyes, and drove away from the Martingale residence.
“What’s your theory?” I asked.
“This is great; I get to play your part, Professor,” Rachel said. “Here’s my theory: One: The bi was at the Martingale’s warehouse last Friday, and Ernie saw someone translocate in and out there. Two: The bi was in Seymour’s home office on Sunday when he was killed. And Three: The bi is broken with a piece missing. Ergo, the bi is a homing beacon for the Spell of Translocation.”
“Q.E.D!” I exclaimed. “Brilliant! I’m proud of you Rachel. The bi must be a homing beacon. That’s why it’s not magic. The bad guys wouldn’t break a magical artifact just to create a homing beacon.”
Crimes of Magic: The Yard Sale Wand Page 11