Dead Man Talking

  Chapter 24

  Irritated to no end, Sir Gary searched for the elusive new ghost again. Things had worked out as he planned — up to a point. Bucky had found the doll’s head, which Sir Gary retrieved from the closet in the Peach Room. As intended, the second ghost...connected with the head. Too well, it appeared. Sir Gary had thought the new head would make Bucky both communicative and visible. By all rights, they should have been able to follow the bobbing doll’s head while Bucky tried to hide. Instead, the head became a part of Bucky — except when disconnected. It hadn’t dawned on him why, until Alice questioned the phenomena.

  Sir Gary admitted that trying to keep his Katy from being arrested had overcome his quest. When he heard her on the phone to her uncle, that dastardly old fool, admitting she needed an attorney, the uneasiness erupted. How could he leave Katy in this mess?

  Try to put yourself in the mind of the killer. Alice’s advice ran through his mind. Where would the killer hide the head? Wouldn’t he be in a hurry to leave? Why even bother to hide it?

  He glided into the garconniére for the fifth or sixth time. The new ghost was obviously keeping on the move. Why? Was it, as Alice indicated, confusion? Or was he deliberately binding himself here for some reason and until he fulfilled his own quest? Maybe if Sir Gary could remember why he hadn’t passed through the light himself when he had the opportunity, he could understand Bucky’s plight. Not that he had any desire to understand him over and above making sure his Katy was safe from the authorities after he left. Too bad that hound of Alice’s wasn’t a bloodhound. Maybe the two of them could track down that blasted head.

  The garconniére was dark, but that didn’t bother him. The three rooms weren’t large — a small parlor and two bedrooms. Dusty, as he’d noticed before, except where the bobbies had disturbed things in their searches. Sue Ann didn’t bother to clean in here unless Katy informed her someone would be using it. He couldn’t imagine that either he or the multitude of bobbies had overlooked a clue, but nothing was too much effort to protect Katy.

  Jack was undertaking his investigation the same way the cops on TV did: following the victim’s trail during the hours leading up to the crime. The same way Alice had informed him that she would undertake to uncover the mystery of his death. But so what if Katy had been seen at some dive called the Holey Bucket? He’d known plenty of Ton women who walked on the wild side. Something told Sir Gary that what they needed was right under their noses...somewhere.

  Evidently not in the garconniére, though. Ah, well, he might as well enjoy a movie while he waited for Twila to summon him. There might not be movies once he crossed. A TV with an out-of-date VCR set in a corner of the parlor. Katy had long ago gone to DVDs, but a selection of VCR tapes on the shelf looked promising. He liked the older movies, anyway. He wagged his finger and turned on the TV, then levitated High Noon from the shelf.

  The tape hovered on the verge of inserting. Someone had left a movie in the machine, probably whoever last used the guest house. It was playing, sound muted. A home movie? Hmmm. Could be interesting. He discarded High Noon on an end table. Where was the remote to turn on the sound?

  A roar of rage split the room. Bucky stood in the open door of the garconniére, fists upraised in a fighter’s stance.

  “Well, well, well,” Sir Gary mused. “I prefer swords to fisticuffs, but we can have a go at that, if you wish.”

  Bucky charged. Sir Gary easily evaded him, cocked his fists, and danced around on his tiptoes the way he’d seen that pugilist Ali do on TV. Bucky whirled to confront him again.

  “You know,” Sir Gary said, ducking a wild swing, “we could talk about this. I have no idea if we can actually engage in a brawl in our states. And you must feel the need to understand the state you’re in. I’ve got the experience to pass on to you.”

  Bucky paused. “You’re dead, too?” he said, his voice unused and rusty.

  “For a lot longer than you." Sir Gary made the mistake of lowering his fists. Bucky connected with an uppercut that rocked his head back.

  “You son of a bitch!” Sir Gary snarled. Bucky swung again, and Sir Gary dissolved. He materialized behind Bucky as the other ghost peered around the room and tapped Bucky on the shoulder. Bucky never made his turnaround. Sir Gary slapped the head off, and it bounced on the back of a settee, on behind it.

  Headless, Bucky dove through the settee. When he emerged, with the doll’s head firmly in place, he headed for the door.

  “Wait just a blasted minute!" Sir Gary zipped after Bucky and chased him across the Rose Garden, well behind him. Damn, that bloody fool could move! He lost him in the maze, despite knowing the intricacies of it. Obviously, Bucky knew the secret to the puzzle also.

  Giving up, Sir Gary glided back to the garconniére. But the tape was gone.