Deadly Visions Part 14

"Tell her that the b.a.s.t.a.r.d went to jail. Tell her that he died a miserable death there."

Joe was startled by a popping sound outside the window. Everyone turned. The top edges of the window screens had broken loose.

"Sweet Jesus," the man said under his breath.

As they watched, the screens'aluminum frames curled outward and twisted over.

Suzanne opened her eyes, but she did not look back at the window. "Your daughter doesn't realize that she's causing these things. It just happens sometimes, especially when we discuss things that affected them emotionally."

Patricia stared in horror at the bending, twisting screen. "I love you, Nadia," she whispered, tears streaming down her face."I hope you've found peace there, the peace you couldn't have with us."

Suzanne smiled. "She has. She says that you have no idea, Mamacita."

The woman stared at Suzanne in amazement. "She used to call me that. She had a Spanish friend who called her mother Mamacita, and she picked up on it."

The window screens stopped moving.

"She wants you all to remember the past but not to live in it," Suzanne said. "She loves you. That's the one thing that hasn't changed since she was here. She says that will never change."

"I thought you were better than that,"Joe said after Suzanne said her good-byes to the family. They had stayed almost a half hour after the seance's end, drinking tea and reminiscing about Nadia.

"What are you talking about?" Suzanne locked the front door.

"Ending with a rea.s.suring message about how they should live their lives? You've never gone in for that kind of thing before."

"It's what that woman's daughter said. I'm sorry if you thought she was being overly sentimental, but maybe you can discuss it with Nadia in fifty or sixty years."

"It just sounded like the second-rate psychics who put up their shingles in Little Five Points."

"I agree. But as much as I don't want to be lumped into that category, I'm not going to sit here and censor a ghost." Suzanne quickly moved up the stairway. "I have to check out the damage. Come on, make yourself useful."

They returned to the second-story sitting room, where Suzanne kicked at a few of the loose floor slats. "This has happened before. A little carpenter's glue and the floor will be fine."

Joe gestured down."May I?"

"Sure."

He lifted the end of a loose panel, one that he'd seen curling into the air. There was no evidence of tampering, and its dark underside was smooth.

She smiled. "I'll bet you were just dying to bring your spirit kit in here."

Her smile was simply radiant, Joe thought. She wasn't at all nervous about him inspecting the scene, especially impressive since his presence there had been a surprise. He shrugged. "I promised you that I wouldn't be wearing my Spirit Basher hat."

"Yes, you were admirably restrained. Was this the fifth seance of mine you've seen?"

"Sixth. Plus three others that the university 'spook squad'videotaped."

"They prefer to be called parapsychologists."

"I'm sure they do."

Suzanne glanced out the window. "Oh Lord. Help me get those screens inside."

Joe threw open the window and grabbed one of the twisted screens. He ran his hand along the frame, feeling for a piece of wire or anything that may have pulled it down. Nothing. He laid it on the sitting-room floor and retrieved the other one. No signs of tampering there either.

Suzanne tried to straighten the frame, pressing it with the heels of her hands as she spoke."Okay, Spirit Basher. If you were to duplicate this with trickery, how would you do it?"

Joe shrugged. "I'd brush the aluminum frame with a sodium hydroxide compound to soften it. I'd tie eight feet of heavy-duty clear fishing line to each ofthe upper corners and let the ends hang down. After your guests were inside, I'd have someone on the street below tie the lines to metal rods. They'd pull the top of the screen away from the window, and the weakened frame would bend and twist pretty much any way they wanted it to."

"Well, if you know where I can get any of that sodium hydroxide compound, I'd sure like to know. Maybe I could use it to bend these things back into shape. I'm going to lose money on this deal."

"You're still charging for your seances?"

"As long as I try to make a living as a cla.s.sical music composer, I'll probably be charging for this. This takes a lot of time and energy for me."

"Not to mention all the time you spend visiting other spiritualists."

"You know why I do that," she said.

Yes, he knew. Suzanne claimed to be searching for another spiritualist who shared her unique gift. She'd been made to feel like a freak for most of her life, and she wanted to find someone else who could do the amazing things she did. She armed herself with an immense knowledge of paranormal fraud techniques, not to use them herself, she maintained, but to identify those who would try to deceive her.

Suzanne picked up the bent screens and leaned them against the wall. "I'll work on these later. So, why did you come here? Did that family ask you to drop in?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then, why? I don't hear from you in four months, and you come here now?"

"I'm sorry about that. I should've gotten in touch sooner."

"You were under no obligation."

"Sure I was. We were ...involved. That meant something to me."

"Funny way of showing it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

She straightened the chairs. "I always knew it was a risk. I'm the only spiritualist you've never been able to debunk, and I think that intrigued you at first. Later it just got frustrating and you couldn't handle it."

"I couldn't handle it, but not for the reason you think."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You did change my perspective on things, Suzanne, but I don't want to go into it right now. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Hey, don't worry about me. I think you overestimate the power of your charm. I have missed Nikki though."

"She still talks about you."

Suzanne looked away. "Why are you here, Joe? Did you come to apologize?"

"Yes. But I also need your help."

"With what?"

"Have you heard about what happened to Monica Gaines?"

"Everybody has."

"I was a.s.signed to accompany her to the crime scenes when she was in town."

"I'm sure she loved that."

Joe brought Suzanne up to speed on Monica's eerieimpressions, the strange voices, and the fiery attack at her hotel.

Suzanne's eyes narrowed."Any theories yet?"

"I'm working on the combustion, but I'm especially interested in the voices right now."

Suzanne studied Joe's expression. "You're wound pretty tight. Are you all right?"

He let out a long breath. "I heard a voice last night. It sounded exactly like Angela."

Are you serious?"

"Yes. Nikki told me she heard it a couple nights ago."

Suzanne considered this."Amplification?"

"None that I could find. No trace of speakers or magnetic coil."

"Ductwork?"

"One vent, and it was behind me. No way it came from there."

"Jesus. No wonder you're shaken up."

"Yeah, it's kind of knocked me for a loop."

"And Nikki?"

"Very upset. She thinks that Angela is trying to warn me."

"Warn you of what?"

"Of the supposed evil spirits, I guess. And then there's the redecorating."

"What?"

Joe filled her in on the rearrangement of his apartment. As he spoke, it seemed even more inconceivable. Suzanne briefly quizzed him, asking the same questions he'd been asking himself. Who would be so intimately familiar with the apartment's previouslayout? Who would have a reason to do something like that? He still didn't have the answers.

"That's just bizarre," she finally said.

"Tell me about it. I was going to go crazy unless I could talk to somebody." He sighed. "Not just somebody. You."

Suzanne was quiet for a moment."I've never heard of a ghost giving a warning."

"Look, I'm not here for you to play ghost psychologist. I just need your help in figuring out how this could have happened. You're an expert at this kind of fakery."

"So are you."

"I need an objective eye. Where Angela's concerned, it's hard for me to be objective."

"I'd be worried if you could couldbe."

"I've talked to Sam about audio tricks, but it's really not his field. You're pretty current on a lot of this stuff. Any ideas?"

"Slow down. I still haven't said I'd help you. I'm not through being p.i.s.sed."

He nodded."I don't blame you. I wish I wasn't asking you for help. But it's not just about me, it's Nikki."

"I know. And if someone really is faking this, it's the lowest of the low. It's like the charlatans I see all the time."

"Do you still go to seances every week?"

"The more I see, the better chance I have of finding someone who isn't bulls.h.i.tting me. Sometimes it takes two or three visits, but I always find out how they do it. Of course, you still probably think I'm doing it to pick up methods for my own use."

"I'm trying to keep an open mind. Whatever yourreasons, it makes you the person I need right now." He paused."Please."

She bit her lip. "I have an idea. Will you be home tonight?"

Joe caught up with Carla and Howe in the squad room shortly after one P.M. They were studying the medical examiner's report for victim number three, who had been electrocuted by his garage door.

Joe threw his jacket over his chair back. "Does the report tell you anything you didn't already know?"

Carla shook her head."Just that about twenty thousand volts went through him."

"h.e.l.l of a spike," Howe said. "We already figured that whoever did it must have tapped into the power transformer."

"Can the power company back that up?"

Carla shook her head. "They can't even get my bill right. What makes you think they can help us with something like that?"

Howe nodded."I checked with the company, but if it's not on a meter, they're pretty useless. There are surges all the time."

"Gotcha."

Carla leaned close to Joe. "How are you holding up? It must have shaken you up to come home and find your place like that."