Carol O'Connell - Mallory's Oracle

"I know she's mixed up in this."

"Perhaps, but I don't think she makes a good suspect. All the victims being tied to the seances doesn't make for a very smart set of murders. I believe Louis did say the killer was smart."

"Maybe she's so smart she'd figure it that way – like a double blind."

"No, too convoluted. She may be gifted, but there's no correlation between a gift and IQ points. Redwing intuits everything."

"What about Edith? How did she know her husband was going to die that particular night? Coincidence?"

Charles sat up straighter. His eyes wandered off to the side where he was looking at something in a memory. He turned back to her. "Edith predicted the date? Is that what she told you?" His hand withdrew its covering warmth. "Well then, you probably know more about the particulars than I do."

"She didn't make it up, Charles. I researched it in the periodicals section of the library. She knew the night he was going to die. She knew it days in advance. The neighbors confirmed it."

"It could easily be a coincidence that she guessed the night. It was a very dangerous trick. Death was always possible. He didn't drop down through a trap door in the stage, you know. He went into a tank of water, chained with iron and tied with rope. On the first night, the trick worked as it was supposed to. I went with my parents that night. I saw him struggling with the locks underwater, then working his way out of the ropes in full view of the audience. There was a large alarm clock on stage, set to go off at the limit of human endurance. The clock went off with an ear-splitting ring. And Max wasn't free yet. He hadn't managed to undo the last coil of rope in time, and for a while, he hung there in the water like a drowned man, and all the while the clock's alarm was screaming and the audience was screaming. Then suddenly, he burst out of the ropes and pushed off against the bottom of the tank and erupted into the air. It was an amazing stunt. It took all his concentration to slow his heart and his respiratory system while he worked the locks of the chains. One slip of the mind and there you go."

"Were you scared when you thought he'd drowned?"

"Oh, no. I'd seen Max die a hundred times. Part of the fascination with dangerous stunts is that the audience believes the performer might die. Max gave them their money's worth. He died every time. I didn't see him die the last time. My parents went without me that night."

"And that night, the night he really died, that was the last time Edith ever left the house?"

"What?"

"She was there. You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't. She told you that?"

"No, she never mentioned it. I found her picture in the old newspaper archives."

She noticed a disturbing distraction in his eyes, but only for a moment.

"You think it's time to let me help you now?" He smiled at her. "I do understand why you have to do this. I don't like it. I worry about you. But I do understand. You don't have to do this alone anymore."

"You think I'm making a mess of this, don't you? Maybe I'm not as smart as Markowitz – "

"I'm an expert in that area. Your intelligence isn't in question. However, you might want to give some thought to the way you use it. Your strong point is gathering and analyzing data. True you're a great shot, but that's called marksmanship. It doesn't put you in the same club with a street cop who shoots on the run. Do what you do best. Work the data, and leave the surveillance and the undercover work to the department."

"The department? Coffey thinks Markowitz botched it. He thinks the old man was sucker-punched. I can't let go of the idea that Markowitz worked the whole thing out. He had to be following the suspect."

"Louis is dead. If you try to do this his way, you'll die, too. You can see the logic in that. Follow his steps and you fall in the same hole. You don't know who he was following that day. You found a link to the suspects. Maybe he found another one. Who knows?"

"The Shadow knows."

"Pardon? We're not talking about the Shadow? The old radio – "

"It was Markowitz's all-time favorite."

"My parents loved that program."

"All right, I'm going back to collecting data. Will you do me a favor?"

"You hardly needed to ask."

"I need you to cozy up to Henry Cathery. He plays chess in the park seven days a week. Get him into a game."

"If you like, but why?"

"Because you play chess and I don't."

"No, I meant why me? I'm hardly cut out for undercover work."

"And that's why you're so perfect. Who would suspect you? Cathery's smart. He'd see through me in a minute. You're smarter."

"How did he make it to the top of your list so suddenly? I thought he was ruled out. The papers said he had an alibi."

"Never believe what you read in the papers. He's not at the top of the list, but he's pretty damn close. He's in the park every day for hours at a time. People are so used to seeing him there, they just don't see him anymore. He's a fixture, like one of the shrubs or the benches. He was probably in the park while his grandmother was being murdered."

"Well, I'm sure my key to the park wouldn't work anymore. You want me to rattle the gates and ask if he'll invite me in? You don't think he might suspect I've come to interview him?"

"Whoa. Back up. What key?"

"I have one of the original keys. It's an antique. I'll show you."

He left the office, and a moment later, she could hear him working his key in the door across the hall. He returned to her with a velvet jeweler's box in one hand. He opened it to display a gleaming golden key nested in black satin.

"The first keys, from the last century, were all made of gold. My cousin Max gave me this one for a birthday present when I was a child."

"How did old cousin Max happen to have a key to Gramercy Park?"

"Oh, there was always at least one Butler in Gramercy Park for a hundred years or so. Max changed his name from Butler to Candle when he left home, or rather when his parents threw him out. After Max became a semi-respectable headliner, he was reinstated in my uncle's will and inherited the house."

"He lived in Gramercy Park?"

"He and Edith only lived there for five years or so. They got a wonderful price for the house, enough to buy this building and make a few investments. It's been thirty years since she lived in Gramercy, but I'm surprised she never mentioned it."

"She's always surprising me," said Mallory. But this neatly explained Edith's ties to two old women in Gramercy Park.

"Well, I'm sure the lock's been changed many times since this key was in use. Sorry."

"Here, you can use my key." She pulled a key from the pocket of her jacket.

"Would I want to know where you got that?" 'Charles, you get more like Markowitz every day. I picked it up in Gaynor's apartment. He'll never miss it. He never goes to the park."

"Did Gaynor notice you picking it up?"

"'Charles, who's the best thief you know?"

"You're the only thief I know."

When Edith Candle leaned back in her chair, alone in the dim window light of a fading day, she could see the whole universe spinning out from her room, stars revolving outward in galactic swirls and spinning in again. She saw how each thing set each other thing in motion. And what was once random, now flowed with the predictability of notes in a string of familiar music. She saw the perfect order.

She took stock of Redwing. "What do you make of her?" Kathy had asked. Edith had responded with a string of words: fearless, arrogant, charming, deceptive, cool under pressure, and wholly alien. But Kathy should have known Redwing best.

She's a lot like you, Kathy.

The old woman closed her eyes and gave herself over to Morpheus, god of dreams, and to the little death that was sleep.