Shred of Evidence

I jumped when the candle died but used the cover of darkness to steal a quick sip from my flask. If Marilyn hadn’t been the wife of my ex-partner, I would have laughed in her face when she tried to hire me for the job.

Muscle a blackmailer? Sure. Steal incriminating evidence? No problem. Act as go-between? Give me the address.

Attend a séance? You’ve got to be kidding.

Marilyn wanted me to make sure Endicot wasn’t pulling any tricks. Of course he was. I’d seen the light go out enough times to know there was no world after this one.

I told Marilyn then that séances were a crock but she insisted that Endicot could talk to the dead. She just wanted to be certain he wasn’t taking advantage of her.

Around and around we went until I finally relented.

Bunt had been my partner for ten years, a fellow cop before that. If I couldn’t solve his murder, the least I could do was show his widow a little kindness.

A match flared to life and Endicot relit the candle.

Marilyn laughed nervously, her face hollowed by the flickering light as much as it was by grief.

Endicot patted her hand reassuringly and then turned to me. “For someone who doesn’t believe in spirits, you’re awfully quick with the bourbon.”

“I’m fighting a cold.”

He nodded. “Summer colds are the worst.” Endicot took a deep breath and then let it out slowly before continuing. “We are gathered here tonight to open a communication with Herman Bunt who passed on three months ago.”

I bit my tongue. Bunt hadn’t passed on. He’d been shot to death by an unknown assailant. The cops had written it off as a mugging gone bad and I was unable to prove differently.

Endicot raised his voice. “Herman Bunt. We have gathered in your den tonight in the hopes of your visit. Sitting on my left is your wife Marilyn and sitting on my right is your friend Patrick. Honor us with your presence.”

I kept my eyes on Endicot. Since I didn’t know what kind of illusions he intended to throw at us, I watched for everything: wires, palmed smoke bombs, tape recorders. A single candle providing the room’s lighting didn’t help, nor did the fact that the shadows danced and teased.

Endicot hadn’t been in the room alone. I’d made sure of that but still examined the den one last time while Marilyn served Endicot tea in the living room. Whatever magic Endicot meant to display, he’d brought it into the room with him.

It wasn’t until Marilyn gasped that I looked away from Endicot to see a cloud had collected just below the ceiling. The thick gray fog spun clockwise and then formed a funnel which extended down until it reached the tip of the flame.

Again we were cast into a suffocating darkness.

Endicot lit another match which he touched to the candle. “We ask for the chance to speak with Herman Bunt.”

I choked back a scream. Floating above the table was a gray ball of gas, a swirling clump of ash-colored cotton which slowly spun until my partner’s face was revealed.

“Patrick.” The voice came from above us, not from something Endicot may have been hiding. “Double-cross.”

My chair clattered to the floor as I leapt to my feet shouting for names. Grabbing the table, I sent the candle flying and the room pitch black.

I furiously waved my hands in the air until Marilyn turned on Herman’s desk lamp.

The gray mist was gone.

Endicot shook his head. “Herman Bunt has left us.”

“Bring him back.” I spit the words through clenched teeth.

“We’ll have to wait until the time is right. The connection between the spirit world and ours is tenuous at best. I must rebuild the bridge of faith.”

I grabbed Endicot and hauled him to his feet. “You can start building right now.”

“I’m sorry but it’s too soon.”

“Bah.” I pushed him away from me.

“What did he mean, double-cross?”

With all that had happened, I’d actually forgotten Marilyn was in the room. “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to hear what else he might say.”

“Was Herman working that night?”

I tried to pull myself together. “No. Well, he delivered something for me earlier but that was hours before the shooting. I don’t know why he wasn’t home at the time.”

“Could a client have turned on him?”

“I checked our files for suspects but came up with nothing. That’s why the police are certain the mugging was random. Maybe Herman resisted or the mugger was out of his mind on drugs. We’ll probably never know.”

Marilyn held out a hand to Endicot. “Thank you very much.”

He bowed. “We’ll try again next month. Perhaps a smaller gathering….”

I laughed. “Don’t count on it.”

Endicot ducked out of the room and Marilyn followed.

Sighting the candle laying against the wall, I placed it on the table and stared at nothing, sipping from the flask almost against my will.

I remembered that mid-March night with a clarity which made the present seem dull in comparison. Perhaps I would be haunted by it forever.

“Thank you for attending the séance with me.”

I turned to see Marilyn enter the room.

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you see any evidence of fakery?”

“No.” I rubbed my face. “I don’t have any experience debunking these charlatans and I have to admit he’s good. I don’t know how he pulled it off.”

Marilyn studied me. “You don’t believe then?”

“In ghosts? No. I may not be certain how Endicot created the illusions he did, but I’m certain he created them.”

Marilyn paused. “I thought…the way you reacted when Herman spoke—”

“I fumbled on purpose in order to grab whatever mechanical device Endicot was using to produce the cloud.”

“And did you?”

I resisted the urge to take out the flask again. “No. Like I said, I’m stumped. The swirling fog might have been an image projected onto the ceiling but the funnel was definitely real and the head illusion was three-dimensional.”

“I’d recognize Herman’s voice anywhere.”

I shuddered at the memory. “It did sound authentic but Endicot must have gotten his hands on a recording.”

“What recording?”

I shrugged. “Answering machines, voice mail systems, illegal wire taps. The possibilities are endless. Perhaps Herman used a dictaphone before he typed his reports.”

“He didn’t.”

I took her arm. “Let me buy you a drink. Maybe all I need is a little alcohol to grease the wheels and get my brain chugging along again. We’ll solve the whole mystery in a booth at Flannery’s or get drunk trying.”

Marilyn stood her ground. “I’d rather solve it right here.”

“What do you mean?” I felt myself tense.

“Herman told me that you had him running money for the mob.”

“Sure, we worked for a lot of people. I only draw the line at clients who don’t pay their bill on time.”

Marilyn pulled her arm away. “Herman said he thought you were skimming the take.”

I positioned myself between Marilyn and the door. “He must have been imagining things, or you are. You’ve been through a lot lately. I would have been crazy to steal from the mob.”

“Crazy enough to kill your partner to cover your mistake?”

Marilyn wore her grief like a bad conscience. No one would be surprised if she took her own life, especially after what happened this evening. I knew she had filled a prescription for sleeping pills and that Herman kept his booze above the refrigerator if the bourbon didn’t hold out.

“Crazy, yes. I needed the money, a drop from the river that passed through my hands every day. I had to cover my debts before they ruined me but Herman wouldn’t let it go.”

“You killed him.” Marilyn’s face set hard.

“Of course I killed him. I didn’t have any choice.” I stepped towards her. “Just like now.”

“That’s far enough. You’re under arrest.”

I spun to see Endicot in the doorway, a gun in one hand and a badge in the other. “Endicot. I knew you were a fake.”

“Big deal. I knew you were a killer.”

Realizing I was beat, I dropped into the nearest chair. I couldn’t overpower the two of them and whether or not the case went to trial I was certain the mob wouldn’t hesitate to give me the opportunity to prove there wasn’t an afterlife. “Tell me this at least. How did you create the illusion?”

Endicot smirked as he pocketed his badge. “I didn’t.”

“The hell you didn’t.”

Marilyn nodded. “It’s true. Herman was here with us. He comes to me, has ever since the night you murdered him. Herman planned this whole charade so you’d testify against yourself since he knew they’d never put him on the stand.”

I pictured the gray fog floating above the courtroom and laughed until Endicot snapped the cuffs closed.