The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy Page 5

  “You have many questions I cannot answer at this time. You are at home?”

  Eddie looked around the room. “Never mind that—”

  “In your kitchen. By the way, the water is about to boil.”

  At that moment, the tea kettle began to whistle, at first fitfully, but then with gathering strength.

  Eddie paced over to the stove, put the cane under the arm that held the phone, and shut off the flame. The kettle stopped howling and fell into a hushed, anticipatory silence.

  “How did you know?” Eddie felt the out-of-body sensation return. He walked to the kitchen window, glanced out to his back yard, and then lowered the blind.

  “I know many things, but I cannot share them over the phone. Is your staff there?”

  Eddie drew away from the phone and looked around the room, puzzled. “No one who works for me is here.”

  Eddie heard an exasperated exhale over the phone. “Not that kind of staff! I believe you are currently seeing it as an ebony cane with a silver handle?”

  Eddie took the cane from under his arm and held it with his free hand. “If you know I’m in my kitchen, why can’t you see I’m holding it?”

  “Because it is a multidimensional manifestation of ancient energies in solid form,” the voice stated, as if the answer were obvious.

  “That clears that up,” Eddie commented sarcastically.

  “Lieutenant, I will answer all of your questions, but not tonight. Now you must listen. Do not leave your house under any circumstances.”

  Eddie felt sweat coat his body a second time. It was one thing for someone to call and say you were in your kitchen. All that took was a stakeout and a pair of binoculars. But how did this man know that he thought about going for a jog a few short minutes ago?

  “How did you know about that?” Eddie’s mouth tasted like cotton.

  “Your staff—that cane—sensed it. Until initiation, the coven master is linked to the staff. That’s why I called. Do not leave your house, and keep the cane with you until I can meet with you.”

  “I—I can’t,” Eddie stammered. “This multi—whatever—is evidence in a murder investigation.”

  “Lieutenant, unless you want someone investigating your murder, please heed my warning.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Eddie felt anger push his fear aside. “Look, buddy, I’m a cop—”

  “Lieutenant, I am well aware that you are a peace officer. I am not threatening you. I am warning you, for your own good and the good of many others. If anything were to happen to you, it could be a cataclysm.”

  Something in the strange man’s tone made Eddie sure that he was truly concerned for his welfare. “What the hell did you say your name was? Marlowe?”

  “Lieutenant, I’ll meet with you tomorrow and explain,” Marlowe soothed. “But, please, I need you to do one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “Hold the cane up in front of you, the ball of the cane higher than your head.”

  “Now look,” Eddie adjusted the cane in the midst of his protests, “I don’t see—”

  Eddie’s ability to speak left him, as the cane began to emit a red glow that surrounded first the stick, then his arm and body. Yellowish flashes of light flickered around the room, the stick vibrated in his hand, and Eddie shook so hard his teeth chattered.

  As quickly as it started, the resonance stopped, which left Eddie quivering.

  “There!” came the voice over the phone. “You should be safe, for now.”

  “What the—” was all Eddie could manage.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, lieutenant. Sleep well.”

  “I can’t— I mean, I’m not tired,” Eddie said, sure he’d never sleep after this.

  “Ah yes, I understand. It has been a most upsetting day. That I can help with.”

  The man spoke a few words in a tongue Eddie couldn’t recognize. The way the syllables combined made it sound barely like a language at all. More like the ramblings of a madman.

  “That should do it. Good night, lieutenant.” Marlowe ended the connection.

  The cane in Eddie’s hand began to glow with a much softer, almost pink light and vibrated in his hand again. It shook him gently in a relaxed way, as if he were being rocked in a cradle.

  Everything faded to black.

  Seven

  Eddie was still being rocked, as if on a cloud. Then the shaking grew stronger, and Eddie opened his eyes.

  Sunlight poured in through the drapes of his living room, and he lay in his favorite lounge chair.

  “Sugar,” Cerise said. “Come on, you’ve got to get up.”

  Eddie leapt up from the inclined chair and immediately fell back again. His sudden vault threw the recliner off-balance, the chair tipped over, and Eddie tumbled headfirst onto the floor.

  Cerise jumped out of the way with an “oh!” of surprise, as Eddie somersaulted over and landed flat on his back. She knelt down and gently rubbed her husband’s face.

  “You all right?” Cerise worried.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie gingerly got up and untangled himself from the blanket that usually rested on the sofa.

  He wondered how he got here, his last memory was in the kitchen. How did he walk into the living room and cover himself with the blanket? His eyes shot around to find the cane, lying on the floor next to the tipped-over chair.

  Cerise said, “I was concerned when I got up and you weren’t there.” She and Eddie lifted the chair upright.

  “Sorry, I was going to have tea. I guess I fell asleep.” Eddie pulled her into an embrace. Even though he’d slept in a chair, he felt more rested than he had in days.

  “Don’t you want to sleep with me anymore?” Cerise teased.

  “If you need verification, I could take you upstairs and prove my love,” he whispered into her ear.

  She gently slapped his shoulder, smiling. “You’re so bad. The boys are up. I have to go to work, and so do you!”

  “My first duty is to you,” Eddie spoke with a gleam in his eye. “And I always do my duty.” He was kidding but decided he could be persuaded if his wife was willing. He felt good.

  She searched his eyes. “What got into my big, black man?”

  Eddie grinned. “Some sleep?”

  “If you get home at a reasonable hour, maybe I could take you up on that offer. Now go, get ready.”

  The spell broken, Eddie felt the weight of all his responsibilities descend back on top of him. “Will Momma be all right?”

  “I’m only gone for a few hours, Eddie. If—when—she gets worse, we’ll hire a nurse,” Cerise tactfully pointed out.

  “Right, right,” Eddie replied, not liking the idea.

  “I’ll start coffee.” She strode toward the kitchen.

  “Thanks, baby.” Eddie turned, scooped up the cane, and started up the stairs to take a shower.

  “What’s that?” a voice said as Eddie neared the top of the stairs.

  Eddie jumped. “Morning, William. Don’t scare your old man like that.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” William said.

  His oldest son, now fourteen, stood on a step slightly above him. Like himself, the lanky youth was a morning person, dressed and ready, while his younger brother still failed to rise from the bed.

  The boy was not as tall as his father, only about five-foot-seven. But Eddie was sure he wasn’t done growing. He possessed a round face and his skin was not as fair as his father but lighter than his brother. He did, however, have his mother’s striking good looks, and Eddie knew he would be a “chick magnet” in a few short years.

  Just don’t get one pregnant, Eddie thought. Go to college, make a life, then decide to have children.

  “Hello? Earth to Dad?” William teased.

  “Sorry.” Eddie returned his attention to his son.

  “What’s with the stick?”

  Eddie looked at the cane in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s part of an investigation.”

&
nbsp; William stared at the stick in surprise. “You bringing your work home?”

  “Just this once.” Eddie spun the stick between his fingers with a flourish. “Besides, I have a teenager in the house. I might need it to keep you in line.”

  Doug looked at the stick and whistled. “That would leave a mark. Can I see it?”

  “Sure,” Eddie said and held it out. As William reached for it, Eddie was possessed by an irresistible urge and pulled it back from the young man’s grasp.

  “I mean…later,” Eddie cautioned, surprised by his own actions. “You have to get dressed.”

  “I am dressed, Dad,” William blurted, also startled by his father’s behavior.

  “I mean, I have to get dressed.” Eddie sauntered down the hall for the bathroom.

  In the shower, Eddie tried to understand his reaction to the cane being touched. He let Vasquez handle it the previous day. Something about that curious man on the phone calling at midnight. What was his name? Monroe? Mordred?

  Eddie stepped out onto the bath mat, picked up the nearby cane, and looked at it again. “Marlowe!” he said aloud.

  He smiled. That was the man’s name. He dried himself with the towel, and then used it to clear the mist-shrouded mirror. He turned the tap on the sink and threw his shaving brush in the basin.

  “You called?” a voice said.

  Eddie fell back, his rear end smacking the tub as he sat down hard to avoid being completely bowled over.

  It was the voice from the phone!

  He grabbed his bathrobe and pulled it on and stared up at the ceiling.

  “H-Hello?” Eddie stuttered as he studied the white ceiling to see where the voice emanated. He held up the cane, the reassuring weight of it in his right hand.

  “I’m over here,” Marlowe snapped impatiently.

  Eddie looked at the mirror. Instead of his reflection, there was a white man with a snowy beard and hair. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue and seemed to possess an intelligence as old as the world.

  Eddie’s mouth fell open. He screwed his eyes shut, shook his head, and tentatively peeked again.

  The man in the mirror watched him. Eddie now could see that the background of the room behind the long-haired man was a different room, not a reflection of his bathroom.

  A weak “How?” was all Eddie could muster.

  ”You called me,” Marlowe explained. “I hope it was important. I do have a full day.”

  He could see that the old man was wearing a red, satin coat. What used to be called a smoking jacket.

  “Wha—” is all that came out of Eddie’s mouth.

  Marlowe nodded, as if Eddie not only stated an important question, but a complete sentence.

  “Ah yes, I asked to see you today. How is this afternoon for you?”

  “I—I—” Eddie found it hard to draw breath.

  “Oh, of course, you don’t know your schedule yet,” Marlowe said amiably. “I understand. How about five PM?”

  “Where?” Eddie still tried to accept that he held a conversation with the man in the mirror.

  “The arch where the murder took place. We both know where it is. It should be safe before dark.”

  “I—I—” Eddie stuttered.

  “Good!” Marlowe approved. “See you then, and please make sure to have the cane with you.”

  No sooner was he done than the mirror glazed over silver for a moment, and Eddie’s face reflected back at him.

  The bearded man was gone.

  The change was so astounding, and Eddie’s face, wide-eyed and frightened, startled its owner a second time.

  He stood for a minute staring at the mirror, steam rising from the sink where his shaving brush floated.

  “I’m losing my mind,” was all he could manage.

  Eight

  Eddie ate his breakfast in a dream. Cerise noticed but let it go. She decided it was his way of coping with his mother’s illness.

  But his mother was the last thing on Eddie’s mind. As he got in his car and drove in clogged arteries of traffic. He found his attention was focused on the cane, which lay on the passenger’s seat.

  If it did any more vanishing tricks, he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

  For the cane to show up wherever he went was strange, but the man in the mirror was impossible. A part of him still hoped it was an elaborate hoax. His surprise party was only three days away. Could his wife have set this up? She could’ve gotten Luis in on it—

  He dismissed the idea. Cerise would never do anything this bizarre with his mother sick.

  A twinge of guilt smacked Eddie in the gut. He’d been so focused on the strange cane, he didn’t even speak to his momma before he left for work. How could he be so damn inconsiderate? His father always insisted that he treat his mother with respect. Now she really needed him, and he was worried about a stupid piece of wood.

  He exited off the West Side Highway and down West End Avenue to 86th Street. He soon entered the park transverse road and pulled into the authorized parking lot.

  As he climbed out of the car, he grabbed the troublesome twig. He felt an overwhelming desire to throw it into the woods and lifted it above his head to assume the stance he used when he threw javelin in high school. It was well-balanced, and he could probably chuck it a good thirty feet.

  He cocked back his arm, took aim at a tree…then promptly stopped dead as an idea struck him.

  A small smile twisted his mouth.

  There was one way he could figure this out. If there were several of these expensive-looking canes being moved from place to place, then the one he put in evidence would still be there.

  He walked into the "22" and strode up the extra floor to the evidence room. There, behind the small opening, looking as if he had never left, sat Hank, who leaned on his bench with an open newspaper.

  “Hey, Hank,” Eddie greeted.

  “Mornin’, Lew.” Hank looked up over the edge of his glasses, balanced precariously on the tip of his nose.

  Eddie rubbed the silver handle on the cane and turned his body so that his leg blocked Hank’s view.

  “I need to take a look at that cane I brought you yesterday. You know where it is?”

  “Sure do, Lew,” Hank said. “Safe as a babe in its mother’s arms.”

  “Could you bring it to me?”

  “You gotta sign on the line, Lew.” Hank took a clipboard to quickly write some numbers then turned it for Eddie to sign.

  Eddie waited until Hank turned his back and switched the cane from his right hand to his left, still blocked with his body.

  He signed his name and smiled up at Hank, who walked to the far end of the cluttered evidence room. Eddie could easily see him past the rows of metal shelves.

  Hank unlocked a door.

  Eddie stood nervously and rubbed the orb of the cane. He really wanted another cane to be in there. Then there would be a logical explanation.

  Hank reached into the room.

  Eddie leaned forward into the opening to watch Hank’s every move. Hank pulled something out and walked back toward Eddie.

  In his hand was the ebony walking stick.

  Eddie’s mouth twisted into a big grin. He’d been right!

  “This the one, Lew?” Hank asked as he drew near.

  “No, I think this is the one.” Eddie raised his left hand with a little “Aha!”

  His hand was empty.

  The walking stick, which was there a scant moment earlier, was gone. Eddie looked around the floor then patted his legs and suit jacket, as if the cane had folded up like a magician’s collapsing wand and was now hidden in one of his pockets, ready to be revealed for the act finale.

  “This a joke, Lew?” Hank griped behind the caged opening.

  Eddie whirled around, startled. “I guess it is.” He forced a smile that felt as if his face was wearing a mask. “Yeah, I’m just playing with you, Hank.”

  Eddie tried to keep himself from shivering as he turned to walk out of th
e room.

  “Hey, Lew.” Hank held out the walking stick. “You want this?”

  Eddie shook his head. “No, I don’t need it until later.”

  Hank shrugged his thin shoulders. “Suit yourself.” He picked up the clipboard, crossing off the last entry as Eddie left.

  Walking back to the locked room, Hank muttered to himself, “The Lew is crackin’ up.”

  Which reflected Eddie’s own point of view perfectly.

  Nine

  “Hey, Eddie,” Luis said as Eddie entered the detective’s bullpen. “You okay? I got a call from your wife last night.”

  Eddie waved his hand dismissively. “Why’d you tell her I fainted?”

  “Eddie, I meant fell. It just came out that way. My mouth moves faster than my brain.”

  Luis’ eyes reminded Eddie of a big puppy. “No big deal. Cerise was worried about my momma.”

  “She gonna be okay?”

  He met his partner’s eyes. “It’s not good.”

  Luis’s expression grew dark. “The cancer?”

  All Eddie could do was nod. “Luis, let me ask you. If Cerise were trying to pull a practical joke on me, you would tell me, right?”

  Luis frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing.” Eddie exhaled heavily. ”It’s just been a rough twenty-four hours.”

  “The coroner finished the autopsy.” Luis handed Eddie a note from the phone log.

  He read it. “She wants to meet with us?”

  “Said there was some peculiar shit with this case.”

  “I don’t think Doctor Beverly Warren put it quite that way.”

  Luis shrugged. “Maybe not, but the message is the same. She won’t finish her report until we visit her.”

  Eddie shoved the note into his pocket. “Okay, you drive.”

  The morgue for the City of New York was known by the fanciful title, “The Chief Medical Examiner’s Building,” as if the city’s preeminent forensic pathologist was also an investor in Manhattan real estate.

  Built in 1960, the six-story structure resided on First Avenue and 30th Street. The building’s most striking feature was the side which faced east was windowless. Other than that, it blended in with the neighborhood with little fanfare or attention.