The Book of Betrayal

by Melissa McShane

  “Another reason to apprehend. Don’t worry about it, Davies. It’s the ones we haven’t had time to clear yet that are a problem. But the Board wouldn’t give me any more time, so I’m having to bring in everyone with the marker we’ve identified. And there are a lot of magi I haven’t tested yet. God only knows how many traitors we don’t even suspect.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  “Bless you for asking, Davies, but no, just let me worry about it.” She hung up.

  I sank onto the stool behind the cash register and stared blindly at its worn keys. Ryan Parish. Ewan Campbell. How many other potential traitors did I know? How many of them did I call friend? I hoped desperately they wouldn’t have to capture someone within Abernathy’s walls.

  Time wore on. Judy left early on some errand or other for her father. I checked my watch every few minutes, wondering what Lucia was doing. Whether the secret was out yet, leaked by some traitor within Lucia’s organization she’d overlooked. A customer came in, and I accepted his augury slip, wondering Is this someone I should fear? He gave me a pleasant smile, but I hurried him out the door anyway, then went back to fiddling with the cash register, watching for five o’clock to hurry up and get here already.

  4:47. The door swung open. “I bet you’re happy with yourself right now, aren’t you, Ms. Davies?” Acosta said. He looked rumpled, his eyes dark-circled like he hadn’t slept in days, and his breath stank of stale French fries.

  “I—excuse me, detective?” I took a step back, but he didn’t follow me, just put his hands in his coat pockets and surveyed the store casually, as if he’d never been here before.

  “Do you really expect me to believe you’re not backed by the Mob, after this?”

  Confused, I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t? I’m surprised. I’ve been ordered to drop this case just as I have proof about what’s really going on here. Threatened with reprisal if I don’t. I should probably thank you, actually.”

  “What?”

  “Now I know this corruption has reached into the police force. Your boss William Rasmussen has a lot of pull, to be able to get my superiors to dance to his tune. Don’t think this changes anything. I know the truth.”

  I took a step backward. “Um…what truth is that?” He sounded calm, but there was a manic light in his eyes, and he looked like a man on the edge. I should probably have been afraid, but I couldn’t help wondering what he thought he’d learned. Rasmussen’s people seemed to have been thorough in stopping his investigation, but they couldn’t stop him leaping to conclusions.

  Now he did walk toward me, just a few paces, but enough to make me even more nervous. “Don’t act so innocent, Ms. Davies. You’re not ignorant of what’s happening here. Rasmussen has control of an entire criminal empire, and this bookstore is only one of his fronts. Selling trash for thousands of dollars, laundering the proceeds of his crimes—you’re paid far too well for someone who’s just a bookseller.”

  “I am—how do you know how much I’m paid?”

  “I don’t know why Rasmussen’s daughter is just a courier. I’d have thought she’d be running this place instead of you.”

  “Detective Acosta, I think you should leave.”

  He smiled at me pleasantly, though his eyes were still hard and cold. “Why? I happen to be interested in buying a book. I’ll just browse your shelves for a while, I think. If you’re innocent, you shouldn’t have any problem with that.” He moved off toward the nearest bookcase, took a book down and began leafing through it.

  The door swung open, and Georgina Eisen, breathtaking in her usual white furs, drifted through it and approached me. Her pale, frost-kissed lips parted in a silent O as she registered Acosta’s presence. “I would like you to find this for me,” she said. Acosta, for his part, seemed unimpressed by her elven beauty, glancing her over once and then returning to his “reading.”

  I took the augury slip from her gloved hand. “I’ll be right back, Mrs. Eisen.” I headed into the oracle. Maybe Acosta would be gone when I returned. I could always hope.

  Eisen’s augury was easy to find—a slim little book titled Backgammon For Beginners. I tucked it under my arm and exited the oracle. Two more magi had entered the store while I was gone. Unfortunately, Acosta was still there, too. What was he trying to do—intimidate me? It was sort of working. But there was only about an hour until closing, and I could wait him out.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment,” I said to the new customers, then looked at them more closely. I knew them both by sight if not by name—they were two of Lucia’s enforcers from the Gunther Node. Dread crept up my spine. It was nearly five o’clock. Were they anticipating an arrival…or was she already here?

  Eisen, as usual, ignored everyone else in the store. Acosta had his eye on the new arrivals, possibly sensing kindred spirits of law enforcement. I had to admit, as wrong-headed as he was, he was good at his job, if he’d learned Judy’s identity to link her to Rasmussen.

  I glanced at the enforcers again. Both women were browsing the shelves, but one of them stood between Eisen and the door, casually, holding a book in her hands she was slowly leafing through. I made myself breathe naturally and smiled at Eisen. “That will be $1250.”

  Acosta coughed explosively.

  “Something wrong, detective?” I asked.

  Acosta waved a hand like brushing away smoke from his face. “That’s a lot of money for such a small book.”

  Keeping my voice calm, I said, “I didn’t know you were an expert antiquarian. This is a very old book and needs careful handling. Mrs. Eisen?”

  Eisen, ignoring Acosta, had out her white checkbook and was writing a check. “How much is this book?” Acosta said, waving the one he was holding at me. “I wouldn’t want to mishandle your merchandise.”

  That sounded ominous to me, or would if I cared at all about the condition of the books, which was irrelevant to the oracle. “More than you can afford. Thank you,” I said to Eisen, trading her the book for the check. “Let me write you a receipt.”

  The enforcers had started to move toward Eisen, unnoticed either by her or by Acosta, who was intent on Eisen’s transaction. They were going to arrest her right here in the store in front of Acosta, and then all hell would break loose. Unless they intended to do something to Acosta to silence him. I slapped the receipt book down on the counter and wished Judy was here. As if what this fiasco needed was more witnesses.

  “Where are you going after this, Mrs. Eisen?” I said loudly, glaring at the enforcers. They stopped, glanced at Acosta, who was looming over an oblivious Eisen, and backed away toward the door.

  Eisen looked startled, as if the cash register had come to life and spoken to her. “The jeweler’s,” she said. “The setting on my ring is loose.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, widening my eyes at the enforcers, willing them to hear my thoughts: Pick her up on the way there, don’t stop here!

  The woman on the right flicked a glance at Eisen, then at Acosta. She tapped her wrist and shook her head slightly. My heart sank. Why couldn’t they wait even a few minutes? Acosta was going to see everything!

  I paused in writing the receipt. “Detective, don’t let me keep you,” I said. “There’s nothing interesting for you here.”

  “Could you hurry it up, Ms. Davies?” the woman on the right said. “We’re on a deadline.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” I finished writing the receipt and handed it to Eisen. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Eisen.”

  She turned away, tucking the receipt and book into her bag. Acosta turned to watch her go. The enforcers stepped to either side, and I breathed more easily. They’d take her on the street, throw up an illusion, and Acosta would remain clueless.

  Eisen stopped. She looked at the enforcers, first one, then the other. She looked over her shoulder at me. For a moment, her usual vacant gaze was replaced by a malevolent snarl. Then she shoved both hands i
nto her sleeves like a muff and ran.

  Both the enforcers cried out and staggered backward. One of them pulled out a gun and pointed it roughly in Eisen’s direction. “What the hell?” Acosta shouted, drawing his gun. “Police! Drop your weapon!”

  The enforcer ignored him and took a shot. The bullet struck the plate glass window and shattered it. “She’s heading for the door!” I shouted, guessing by the way they moved that Eisen had gone invisible.

  I had no trouble seeing through the illusion and threw the receipt book after her. The book hit her on the back of the head and made her stagger long enough for me to take a couple of running steps and throw myself at her legs, bringing her down. Two more shots went off, explosively loud, and I heard someone cry out in pain. “Somebody help me!” I shouted.

  Eisen fought me like a crazed tiger, thrashing her legs, but I clung tightly to her. I heard another shot, but saw nothing—my face was buried in the back of her fur coat, and my eyes and nose itched. Then something exploded near my face, something louder than the other gunshots, and Eisen went limp. I released Eisen and stood upright, swaying and dizzy. Through the broken window I saw pedestrians scattering in all directions. So much for a quiet apprehension.

  One of the enforcers lay on the floor with her partner kneeling over her, pulling her sweater off over her head and wrapping it tightly around the woman’s arm. “Ms. Davies, call the node,” the partner said, and I scrabbled for my phone. I glanced over my shoulder. Half a dozen people had their phones out and I could just imagine them talking to emergency dispatchers about this fiasco. Damn.

  Acosta sat sprawled next to the counter, half-propped against its base, staring at nothing. His gun lay a few paces from him, disregarded. I called, not Lucia, who always let her calls go to voice mail and who would probably be too busy to answer anyway, but her assistant Dave Henry. “Dave,” I said breathlessly, not giving him a chance to speak, “I need enforcers at Abernathy’s immediately. They tried to arrest Georgina Eisen and, I don’t know, somehow she knew what they were after and fought back—someone was shot—”

  “Slow down, Helena,” Dave said. “Did anyone see?”

  I looked out on the street again. “Someone called 911. Maybe a lot of people.”

  Dave swore at length. “There’s no one to send,” he said. “The node is in an uproar. You’ll just have to brazen it out. Who was shot?”

  “I don’t know her name—let me let you talk to her partner.” I held the phone to the woman’s ear and let my attention go briefly back to Acosta. He looked utterly stunned, like someone had bludgeoned him. I really didn’t have time for him now.

  “Ms. Davies? Mr. Henry wants to speak with you,” the woman said.

  “Tell me if Georgina Eisen is still alive,” Dave said.

  I knelt beside her and checked for a pulse, then laid my cheek against her lips to feel if there was breath. “I think she’s dead,” I said, “but there’s no marks.”

  “Thank God,” Dave said. “Martinez said she was pretty sure she’d hit her with the jolter.” I remembered the explosion, practically in my ear, and my hands began shaking. Inches lower, and that blast would have caught me. “All right. Is anyone watching?”

  “Hey! Are you all right?” Some foolhardy soul stood at the window, peeking in around its edge. He was either brave or stupid, since for all he knew there was an armed gunman in here, ready to shoot the next person who showed his face.

  “Call 911,” I told him, then to Dave, “Yes, there’s someone right here.”

  “Distract them for a couple of seconds. That’s all Martinez needs. Then the story is—Eisen shot Carlson, and you don’t know why Eisen snapped or how she was killed. We’ll get a bone magus in there at some point to fake a convincing cause of death. Understand?”

  “What about Acosta?”

  “Who?”

  “The detective. He saw everything.”

  Dave swore again, even more eloquently. “We’ll have to deal with him later. Just distract now, and everything will be all right.” He hung up.

  I turned around and went to the window. “We heard gunshots. Are you all right?” said the man.

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember. Look, is that the ambulance?” I pointed through the window, up the street. Sure enough, the man turned away to look. I hoped it was long enough for Martinez to do whatever she had in mind. “No, it’s not—I have to help this woman—no, please stay outside, I’m sure the police don’t want anyone messing up their crime scene.”

  I stepped over Eisen’s body and knelt beside the fallen enforcer—Carlson, Dave had said her name was. She was cursing steadily under her breath and had her hand pressed to her arm, wrapped in the bloody sweater. “That was stupid,” she said. “Lucia’s going to tear us apart for failing like that.”

  “Mrs. Eisen didn’t escape,” I said.

  “We were supposed to take her alive,” Martinez said. “And that man saw everything. A police officer, no less. We are so screwed.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. “Did Mrs. Eisen shoot you?”

  “No, that idiot officer did. I hope I made it look like Eisen did instead. Right now I’m not sure of anything.” Carlson pushed herself into a sitting position. “We should—aaah!—talk to the officer. I hit him with the jolter on its lowest setting, but it didn’t knock him out—”

  “Let me. I’ve dealt with him before.”

  I walked across the room to where Acosta sat and squatted next to him. “You’re lucky you didn’t kill Ms. Carlson,” I said.

  “I saw a gun. She was going to shoot that woman,” Acosta said. His pupils were wide and dilated. “And the bear—where did the bear come from?”

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress, detective,” I said. “I didn’t see a bear.” Totally true.

  “A polar bear in a bookstore.” Acosta reached out to pick up his gun. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you hit your head.” I felt myself beginning to panic and shut my mouth.

  “It wasn’t just the gun. She had another weapon. That weapon, whatever it is, hit the woman.” Acosta stood and swayed for a moment, then holstered his gun. “And that woman—the bear vanished, and the woman appeared. Is she dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t shoot her. I shot the woman with the gun.”

  “No, Mrs. Eisen shot her. You must have missed.” I hoped I wasn’t muddying the story entirely in my growing confusion. Acosta’s gun, Carlson’s gun, two jolters…the place had turned into an arsenal.

  Acosta knelt beside Eisen and felt for a pulse. “There’s no blood. And she didn’t have a gun.”

  In the distance, I heard sirens. “I don’t know anything about that.” I noticed for the first time that a gun lay next to Eisen’s right hand. Whose gun was that? I was positive Eisen hadn’t been armed. I shook the cobwebs out of my brain. There was too much about this I was never going to understand. I hoped Martinez was capable of dusting Eisen’s hand with gunpowder residue, or whatever it was they always tested people for on shows like C.S.I.

  “There was a bear. Then there was a woman. She’s dead with no marks on her.” He sounded like he was making a shopping list. “And I know I shot that woman over there.”

  I gave up. I’d have to turn the problem over to Lucia and hope, in the meantime, that Acosta would sound crazy enough that no one would listen to him. I went back to the enforcers and squatted beside Carlson. “What is this bear he keeps talking about?”

  “Eisen’s a paper magus. She made herself look like a bear. You didn’t see it?”

  I didn’t bother to explain my ability, either natural or granted by Abernathy’s, I wasn’t sure, to see through illusions. “Where did the gun come from?”

  “It was mine,” Martinez said. “What did you tell that officer?”

  “He’s a detective. And I told him he was delusional. I hope he believes it.”

  I watched
Acosta climb out through the shattered window as the ambulance, sirens blaring, came into view. I retreated to my stool and wound my hands into my skirt to keep them from shaking. Acosta had seen everything, but it sounded like he didn’t believe the evidence of his eyes. It didn’t matter. Lucia would find a way to keep him from talking. At the moment, I didn’t care if it involved vigilante justice.

  The police came shortly after the ambulance, completing the impression of a three-ring circus complete with clowns, the clown in question being Detective Acosta. I stayed far away from him while the police took my statement—I hadn’t seen much, but I knew Eisen was armed, Carlson wasn’t, and Eisen had shot Carlson. I hoped that would be enough.

  Eventually, the ambulances—the police called for a second one when it was clear Eisen was dead—took the body and Carlson away, the police finished their investigation, and somebody found boards to cover the window. They even swept up the glass on the sidewalk, which I thought was nice as I was exhausted from the ordeal. I called Campbell Security while they were doing this and got a very helpful man who assured me the alarm wouldn’t be affected by the missing window. Then I dragged myself upstairs and got into bed, too weary to eat despite my hunger.

  I tried calling Lucia, thinking I should update her, even though she probably already knew more details than I did about Eisen’s death. To my surprise, she picked up on the third ring. “What do you want, Davies?” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been crying.

  “Um—did Martinez tell you—”

  “I’ve been briefed, yes. Unless you feel the need to bore me with more details.”

  “Lucia, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry. It’s been an overwhelming couple of hours.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  It was sharp enough I decided not to push. “So…how did everything go?” I asked instead.

  “As well as could be expected, given that there are almost certainly dozens, maybe hundreds of Wardens we didn’t know to pick up. For a miracle, we managed to keep the secret until zero hour and took most of our suspects by surprise. Yours was the most explosive of the arrests. A few potential traitors eluded us and are being hunted. Ryan Parish is still on the loose. Very few…few deaths, surprisingly. Or, I should say, very few deaths during apprehension. The executions began half an hour ago.”