Crimes of Magic: The Witch's Artifact

  Chapter 12

  I was able to sleep for about five hours, but I kept dreaming about being chased through a labyrinthine dungeon by Mario from the Donkey Kong video game. After I got up, I showered and put on sweatpants, a tee shirt and my bathrobe. I brewed a pot of Major Dickason’s Blend coffee and made a peanut butter and blackberry jam sandwich for second breakfast—I had missed first breakfast.

  Before I sat down to eat, I got a call from Rachel. She wanted to know if I was awake and if she could come up for a chat. I told her to come on up and asked if she would like a little breakfast. She said that she only wanted coffee, of which I had plenty.

  Rachel entered without knocking and sat down at the kitchen table where I had placed a hot mug of black coffee.

  “Good morning. What’s up?” I asked.

  “Morning, Professor. How’d you sleep?”

  “Pretty well, except for dreaming of being chased through a dungeon by Mario from Donkey Kong.”

  “That makes sense. Shave Mario’s head and give him a Russian accent and you’ve got Gregor.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” I said.

  “Caite has an appointment with Charlene Mosley at one o’clock,” Rachel informed me.

  “That’s good. We want Caite to have all the help she can get.”

  “She asked me to go with her,” Rachel said, “and I agreed.”

  “Even better. You can give her moral support as well as being a mutual friend of both parties.”

  “This is going to be a little tricky, Professor, but I want to tell Charlene about Gregor and our experiences at his bat cave. We know he’s the murderer, and Charlene needs to know about him.”

  “That would mean telling her about magic, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, I would have to tell her about magic and the teleportation spell.”

  “Do you think she’ll believe you?”

  “No, not without proof. That’s why I’d like your help.”

  “I’m always glad to help, but I don’t think I can explain magic any more convincingly than you can.”

  “I don’t want you to explain. I want you to demonstrate.”

  “Demonstrate how?”

  “I want you to teleport into Charlene’s office.”

  “Oh, I see, teleport into her law office. I’ve never even been to her office. I’ve only teleported twice, once to Gregor’s lair following his instructions, and once with you to Moonstone relying on my memory.”

  “I’m sure you can do it, Professor. I have confidence in you.”

  “Won’t it scare the shit out of Ms. Mosley?”

  “Caite and I will already be there. I’ll explain everything to Charlene first, and then I’ll call you and give you the go-ahead. I’ve already explained about the spell to Caite.”

  “That’s a good plan, but I’ll need a homing beacon.”

  “We’ll come up with something. Will I have to draw a magic circle on her floor?”

  “That’s a very good question. I don’t think a magic circle is necessary at the destination point. If there already is a circle there, I think it guides the traveler into the circle, but I doubt that it’s necessary. Without a circle at the destination point, I think the traveler would appear near the homing beacon in some safe place, not in the middle of a lake or under a boulder. That’s the way I would design the exploit.”

  “Good,” Rachel replied, “Now what can we use for a homing beacon?”

  “Well, we obviously can’t use anything from her office, because we won’t have the chance to go get it. You’ll have to carry something there to act as a beacon.”

  “Right. What do you suggest?”

  “Well, I don’t want to carve up any of my furniture. I don’t think the beacon has to be complicated, just unique. And of course it can’t have any iron in it. I have an idea.”

  I got up, went to my office, and came back with a number two pencil and a pair of pliers. I used the pliers to break off the end that had the eraser held on by a metal band. Then I just used my hands to snap the rest of the pencil in two.

  “Here you go,” I said handing her the half that used to have the eraser. “That rough break in a random part of the pencil has to be unique. Just be sure not to break off any pieces of your half. I’ll be taking the sharpened half into the circle.”

  “I guess you’re the sharpest pencil in the box, Professor. I’m sure this will work. Now where are we going to draw the magic circle here?”

  “I have carpet everywhere except for vinyl in the kitchen and bathrooms and wood in the dining room,” I said. “I really don’t want to mess up my floors.”

  “Just how perfect do these circles have to be?”

  “Pretty close to perfect, I guess. Even in ancient times, a near-perfect circle would be easy to draw using string as a radius. I don’t think the exact size is critical though. The circle I drew in Gregor’s basement was smaller than the one in his workroom, and the circle in Moonstone’s meeting room was even larger than that.”

  “How small can the circle be?” Rachel asked.

  “The circle I drew in Gregor’s basement was about seven feet in diameter. That was obviously large enough.”

  “We need a really big sheet of paper,” Rachel said.

  “Or a tarp. I have a canvas tarp that I used to protect the carpet when I repainted my bedroom. “It’s down in the basement, and it only has paint splatters on one side. I’ll go get it.”

  I brought the tarp up from the basement, and Rachel and I moved the kitchen table and chairs a little bit to clear enough space on the floor.

  “I also brought up a piece of wood,” I said. Let’s spread out the tarp on the floor with the piece of wood underneath the center. I’ll drive a nail through the center of the tarp into the wood to serve as the center of the circle.”

  We laid out the tarp with the nail sticking up out of the center. I tied one end of a string to the nail, and the other end to a big felt-tip marker. Rachel made sure the tarp didn’t wrinkle as I drew two concentric circles on the tarp. The outer circle was about seven feet in diameter, and the inner circle was about four inches less.

  “That looks pretty good,” Rachel observed.

  “I agree, but it sure takes up a lot of space. I’m going to cut the circle out of the tarp and get rid of all this extra canvas.”

  I used my kitchen scissors to cut out a roughly square piece of canvas containing the circle, and I put the excess tarp in the recycle bin.

  “I’d like to get my kitchen table back in place. I wonder where I can set up this circle that’s out of way.”

  “You have a huge bedroom, Professor. I’ll bet there’s space on the floor at the foot of the bed.”

  We went to my bedroom, and Rachel was right. We laid out the tarp on the floor at the foot of the bed, and I retrieved the spell kit from the pockets of the clothes I had worn the previous night.

  “I’ve got everything in the spell kit except for the homing beacon,” I said, and I went back to the kitchen to get the broken pencil and brought it into my bedroom. I laid all the symbols in their proper places within the circle and placed the broken pencil on the wooden pivot point.

  “Now all I have to do is move those three symbol cards into a straight line, and away I go. Make sure you don’t drop the other half of the pencil into a sewer.”

  “Your beacon is safe with me,” Rachel said. I’ll be calling sometime between one and two o’clock, so be ready.”

  “I’m ready already,” I said.

  “Make sure you put on your zipperless pants. Charlene’s going to be shocked enough without you flashing her.”

  “Never fear, my dear. Modesty shall prevail,” I assured her.

  “Thanks for the coffee and for your help, Professor. Caite and I will see you later at Charlene’s office.” Rachel left, and I changed into my cargo pants and a polo shirt before I went to the kitchen to put the table and chairs back into place. r />
  At exactly one forty-five, Rachel called. She said to come on and drop in, so I went back to my bedroom. I moved the three final cards into position and shimmer, flash, shimmer, I was in a large office with three women staring at me.

  “Good God almighty!” the tallest woman exclaimed. She was a lean woman wearing two-inch heels that made her a couple of inches taller than I. She was over forty and might even have been a little over fifty, and she was dressed in a nice suit with skirt, blouse and jacket, appropriate for a lady lawyer. She was an imposing woman, with medium length blondish hair. She was nice enough looking, but if it weren’t for her height, she might not stand out in a crowd. Even though she had said only three words, I could tell she had a Southern accent.

  “You must be Professor Walker,” she said.

  “Robert Walker, at your service,” I said. “I’m not really a professor, that’s just what Rachel calls me.”

  “I know all about Rachel’s naming propensity,” she said, “I’m Charlene Mosley. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I said as the shimmer faded away completely.

  Charlene extended her right hand, and we exchanged a handshake. Her hand was large with long fingers and a firm, dry, warm grip. She held my hand for exactly the right amount of time and then released it and smiled.

  “Even though Rachel warned me, that was the most bodacious magic trick I’ve ever seen.”

  “It wasn’t really a trick,” I explained. “It’s really just an exploit, but I guess ‘magic trick’ is the best way to describe it.”

  I gathered up all the pieces of the spell kit and put them in my pockets.

  “Can you just pop up anywhere you want to?” Charlene asked.

  “I don’t know if I could travel just anywhere. I’ll need some practice before I can do that. All this is kind of new to me.”

  “Rachel was right, I never would have believed the tall tale she told me if I hadn’t seen you appear with my own two eyes. Please, let’s all be seated, unless you’re going to flash out of here Mr. Walker.”

  “Please, call me Robert. What the hell, you might as well call me Professor; everybody else does.”

  “And please call me Charlene, Professor. Let’s all take a load off.”

  Charlene sat behind her handsome desk, and the three of us sat in armchairs in front of the desk.

  “Caite has told me her predicament,” Charlene said, “and unless you can find this Russian magician Rachel told me about, and we can prove he’s the killer, the police are just going to keep trying to dig up dirt on Caite. The police always suspect the victim’s spouse or business partner, and Caite fits into both categories. On top of that, Caite doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “What about motive?” I said. “Caite had no reason to kill Beth.”

  “Unfortunately, Caite told me that they both have wills that leave everything to the surviving partner. Now the retail business may not be a huge estate, but the police will latch onto that as a motive.”

  This was news to me, and bad news at that. Caite looked crestfallen and hadn’t said a word since I arrived.

  “I guess that’s a lot of circumstantial evidence,” I said.

  “I’m not saying I couldn’t convince a jury that she’s innocent,” the lawyer continued. “I’m sure that I can establish a lot of reasonable doubt. It would just be better if the police never arrested her in the first place. They might set a pretty high bail in a murder case, especially since all of Caite’s family is in California, and she has no ties to Portland—except, of course, for her coven sisters, and I don’t think I would want to bring that up.

  “Rachel was right when she said we can’t bring up magic or witchcraft or anything paranormal,” Charlene continued. “We can’t even mention this magician, Gregor. If we can’t provide an alternative suspect, in the flesh, they’re going to call Caite the killer. We only have a few days before the police exhaust all other possibilities and settle on Caite.”

  Caite dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. I knew this was very hard on her, but she was really handling it well. I don’t know how I would react if I thought I was going to prison. I had never even considered the possibility.

  “The Professor and I are going to catch the killer, Charlene,” Rachel said. “I brought Caite to you because you’re the best, and I know we can trust you. I wanted you to know all about the magic and Gregor kidnapping me, because you need to know what we’re up against. I’m sorry for asking the Professor to zap into your office like that, but I wouldn’t believe my story without some proof, so I couldn’t ask you to believe it either.”

  “I’m glad you did all this, Rachel,” Charlene said. “This magic stuff has really opened my eyes to a lot more possibilities. In fact, I’ve had a few cases in the past year or so that had some events that could never be explained. Now that I know about magic being a possibility, I would look at those cases a little differently. I’m going to have to contemplate all this at greater length.”

  “What can we do now?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m going to call the police and let them know that I’m representing Caite. I’ll ask them to keep me informed about how their investigation is progressing. Of course, they won’t volunteer anything, but it will give me an excuse to pester them, and they’ll take my phone calls.

  “I’ll handle all the legal aspects, so don’t you worry about anything, Caite. I’ll tell the police to contact me if they want to ask you about anything. I’m confident that we’ll be able to keep you out of prison,” Charlene concluded.

  “Thank you Charlene,” Rachel said.

  “Yes, thank you so much,” Caite responded. “I feel much better knowing that you’re my lawyer. I couldn’t ask for a better support team.”

  “Thanks for your time, Charlene,” Rachel said. “We’d better get going.”

  “How will you be leaving, Professor?” Charlene asked.

  “I’ll be leaving with Rachel and Caite,” I said. “I didn’t prepare for teleporting back to my house.”

  The three of us left Charlene’s office and walked down the hall to the reception area. The receptionist stared at me for a few seconds as we left the law offices. She probably thought I must have come in while she was away from her desk. If she had questions, she would ask Charlene, and Charlene would cover for us.

  “That was an awesome entrance you made, Professor,” Caite said as we rode the elevator down to the parking garage. “I’ve never seen magic like that before. Are you a wizard?”

  “He’s sort of a wizard,” Rachel said. “He’s handy to have around. He’s a pretty good speller.”

  A pun from Rachel? That was my department.

  Caite rode shotgun and I sat in Fred’s back seat as Rachel drove us back to the Goose. Even with my long legs, Fred had enough back seat legroom.

  “It’s pretty comfortable back here,” I said.

  “Fred’s a good guy,” Rachel replied. “He’s a good business partner, too. He gets me where I need to go and never refuses or complains. I can always count on him. He’s also sure-footed with all-wheel drive.”

  “My Subaru has all-wheel drive, too,” Caite said. “It comes in handy if I go up to the mountain or if we get that black ice in January or February. Being from California, I can’t drive in the snow or ice very well, that’s why I got a Subaru.”

  “Most people in Portland can’t drive in the snow,” Rachel said. “Back in Jersey, you had to be able to handle the snow.”

  “I have to admit that you’re right, Rachel,” I said. “Even if you can drive in snow, you better stay off the snowy roads, because the Oregonians will be all over the road and in the ditches. It just doesn’t snow enough in Portland for us to get any practice. My BMW is the last car you want to be in if it snows—too much torque on the rear wheels.”

  We were trying to make chit chat just to get our minds off of our situation. Rachel must have felt the pressure, b
ecause Caite and I, and even Charlene, were depending on her to come up with a plan to clear Caite.

  “Charlene is pretty imposing,” I said. “She must be six feet tall in her stocking feet.”

  “She always says she’s five foot twelve,” Rachel replied.

  “She’s obviously a Southerner,” I observed.

  “She got her law degree from the University of Alabama. She’s been in Portland for twelve years.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Are you interested in her, Professor?”

  “Not in a romantic way, but she is very interesting, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, she’s a remarkable woman. She’s a role model and something of a mentor for me. If I could stand being a lawyer, I would want to be like her, only half a foot shorter.”

  “I think we’re all glad that she’s representing Caite,” I said.

  “Oh yes, I think she’s awesome,” Caite chimed in. She said she would represent me for free.”

  “Charlene is defending her pro bono,” Rachel explained.

  “Is that because Charlene is your friend?”

  “That’s part of it, but I think Charlene took a kind of motherly interest in Caite.”

  “Is Charlene a mother?”

  “No, she’s never been married. Besides, she does a lot of pro bono work, especially for women. I think she would have made partner if she had more billable hours.”

  “How old is Charlene?”

  “That’s not something you ask a woman, Professor, and don’t ask me how much she weighs either. You’re asking a lot of questions. I think you have a crush on Charlene.”

  “I do not have a crush on Charlene. I’m just interested in people. I have a lot of respect for her. She’s smart and independent and kind-hearted. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know her?”

  “You’re right, Professor. You don’t mind a little teasing do you?”

  “No, I don’t mind. I just don’t always know when you’re teasing.”

  “You men are so dense.”

  “Guilty as charged,” I admitted. “That’s why I have to ask so many questions. I can’t read people like you can.”

  “We all have our strong points,” Rachel declared.

  “At least Charlene didn’t dismiss us as a trio of loonies when we told her about magic,” I observed.

  “She’s very open-minded in a practical sort of way. She’s a Christian, but she doesn’t let that get in her way when exposed to something new.”

  “How much of a Christian is she?”

  “Her father was a Baptist preacher.”

  “Sounds pretty Christian,” I said.

  “I like her,” Caite said. “Wicca can be confusing to Christians when they find out we don’t believe in the devil, and they’ve been taught that we worship the devil. Some Christians are quite open-minded, even when it comes to lesbian witches, especially here in Portland. That’s one reason I moved here, Beth too. Portland isn’t as sophisticated as Seattle or as gay as San Francisco, but the people are more independent than either of those places.”

  “That’s the City of Roses,” I agreed. “Did you sleep well last night Caite?”

  “Pretty well. Rachel’s hide-a-bed is comfortable, so that’s not a problem. I think I slept as well as could be expected. I feel safe at the Goose. I’ve also been talking on the phone with my coven sisters. They’re all devastated over Beth’s death, but they’ve been very supportive. We’re looking forward to all getting together after Rachel says its safe to meet at Moonstone again.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” I said, “are all your coven sisters lesbians?”

  “Oh no, Professor, I don’t mind at all. Just a few of us are lesbians. Now it’s just three out of seven.”

  “Are you all young?”

  “Yes, we’re all pretty young. The older witches have been in their covens for a long time. I wish we had an older mentor, but we have more in common because of our ages than because of our craft. It’s probably pretty much like any religious group. Beth’s mother was a witch, but the rest of us are converts, as you might say.”

  “Beth said her mother didn’t call herself Wiccan,” I remarked.

  “That’s right. She considered herself more of a craftsperson than a spiritual person. Beth said she was very practical and logical, not at all airy-fairy. She would cast a spell to get rid of mice and other pests instead of calling an exterminator, that kind of thing. She didn’t think it was anything that Beth needed to know about. I think she must have had a hard childhood and just wanted Beth to be normal. You know she never married Beth’s father, and they separated when Beth was very young. She did change her name when Beth was born, however. She never would tell Beth her original birth name, but she was Irish, like she was born in Ireland.”

  “What did she change her name to?” Rachel asked.

  “Beth said it was Sharon Kimmel.”

  “Kimmel’s definitely not an Irish name,” Rachel remarked.

  “Who was Beth’s father?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Beth didn’t know much about him, and her mother wouldn’t say much about him.”

  “Who are your parents, Caite?” I asked.

  “My father is a realtor in Los Angeles, and my mother is his secretary slash assistant.”

  “Was Beth from California, too?”

  “Yes, Mendocino.”

  “I think you’re handling all this very well, Caite,” I interjected. “You’re a strong woman.”

  “That’s what Rachel says, too. I’m trying to be. I’m just taking things one day at a time. I’ll be ready to go home when it’s safe.”

  We arrived at the Goose, and I invited the ladies up for coffee or tea. Caite thanked me but said she was tired and needed a nap. Rachel said that she wanted to talk with Caite and make sure she was comfortable. She said she might be able to come up to my rooms later.

  I went upstairs to my apartment and changed into sweatpants and a fresh tee shirt. The apartment was a little cool, so I slipped into my bathrobe. I went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of Ethiopian coffee and put a few Oreos on a saucer for a little snack. As I sipped my coffee, Caite came to mind. I was very impressed with Caite. Sure she was upset, grieving and at wit’s end, but I thought she had an inner strength that I hadn’t seen in a lot of younger women. I was sure that she would eventually come to grips with the terrible hand that fate had dealt her. She would rebound and no doubt find someone else to love and to love her. Time heals all wounds.

  Speaking of time, I wondered how much time it would take for us, meaning Rachel, to come up with a plan to recover the artifact and bring Gregor to justice. For once, we held all the cards. We knew how to return to Gregor’s dungeon, but Gregor couldn’t find us. We had an advantage that would allow us, mostly Rachel, to devise a plan of attack. I was sure that I would be able to contribute something to the plan, once Rachel had devised the strategy. She is very strategic.

  I, myself, am not so strategic. I’m the kind of guy who mostly reacts to situations. I’m not very proactive. That’s why Ward had been the boss and software architect at SimBiotic Arts. Once he designed a game and defined the things the software would have to do, then the rest of the team and I could implement it.

  Similarly, I made good grades in school, because the curriculum was completely laid out, and the teachers directed our learning along time-tested lesson plans. I was smart, I had a lot of ability to focus, and I could remember details. All I needed was for someone to point me in the right direction.

  Rachel can do that. For all her talk about liking to work alone and feeling claustrophobic working for “the man,” she’s a good leader. She can see what has to be done, and she can come up with a plan to do it. I think we make a good team.

  My laptop was on the kitchen table, so I decided to create another video journal entry about the latest happenings in what had turned out to be a very in
teresting case.

  No sooner had I started recording, than I saw a flash from the hall reflected in the laptop screen. This couldn’t be good. I got up from the table and ran to the knife block to grab the biggest knife I had. As I racked my brain for a plan, two men emerged from the hall that led to my bedroom.

  “So, Mr. Cowboy, we meet again,” Gregor said.