"And how does your horoscope look for today?" I said with a grin, then quickly held up my hand. "Sorry; I'll remember to keep a straight face."
"I'm not into astrology, brother," Garth said, annoyance creeping into his voice. "I'm just telling you that Dr. Jones has a big rep. As an astrologer, the woman's damn near a legend. Naturally, she's a little nervous about word of her extracurricular activities getting back to your circles."
"My circles?" I laughed; the whiskey was starting to affect me. "I've got enough circles to make a sphere. How'd you meet Mad?"
"Breakfast's ready!" Regina called from the kitchen.
"Apparently, she gets pretty close to her students," Garth said quietly. "Last year, one of them got mixed up with a coven that turned out to be a homosexual procuring ring. They were really doing a number on the kid. Dr. Jones heard about it through her sources, and she came to me for help. She had to expose her own occult activities to me, but she was willing to risk her academic career to save the kid. Anyway, her friends in the occult protect her-and I protect her. She's been useful as hell to me. You'd be amazed at some of the kinky things otherwise sensible kids get themselves involved in. Dr. Jones is the best snitch I've got when it comes to these spook rip-off artists. I think she takes a kind of pride in keeping the field. . pure." Garth must have seen something in my face, because he suddenly laughed self-consciously. "Weird, I know."
"I don't know how to get in touch with her," I said. "With her schedule, Mad could be anywhere in the world."
"She's at the university for the summer. I talked to her last week about another case."
"Garth!" Regina called. "Mongo! Get in here right now or it goes in the garbage!"
We went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Regina had prepared steak, eggs, hashed-brown potatoes and toast. I hadn't realized how ravenously hungry I was until I started eating, and I wolfed down the food along with two more cups of Regina's strong, black coffee. Then my weariness hit me and I wanted nothing more than to lay my head down on the table and close my eyes. But there was still more business to be taken care of.
"What's the story on the psychic healer you've got locked up across town?" I asked.
Garth glanced up from his coffee, surprised. "Esteban Morales?"
"That's the one. How does it look to the cops?"
"Why?"
His question put me in a bind. Garth had broken a confidence by telling me about Madeline Jones, and he wasn't going to like it if I turned coy on him. Still, I didn't want to say too much while Regina was there.
"Garth," I said, looking down into my empty coffee cup, "someone who thinks Morales is innocent has asked me to look into the case."
I glanced up in time to see Garth narrow his eyes. "That's very nice of someone," he said softly.
"My client has. . personal reasons."
"Christ, you're a busy man."
"You don't know the third of it," I said, thinking of Smathers. "The interested party is a very heavy politician who can't afford to have his name linked with a psychic healer."
"I can understand that-particularly when the healer is accused of murder. Why is Morales so important to him?"
"It is very personal, Garth. Let's just say that he's as impressed by Morales as you are by John Krowl."
"Do you want me to leave?" Regina asked, reacting to my tone and starting to rise.
"It's all right," Garth said, gripping her elbow and gently pulling her back down into her chair. "I don't really have that much to say, Mongo. I think you'll be wasting your time on that one. You know the background of the case?"
"Some of it. I know Morales was involved in a research project, and his work with the two doctors was part of it. He was working with their patients."
Garth nodded. "Samuels-the M.D. he killed-had filed a complaint on him, something about practicing medicine without a license. Samuels claimed Morales had administered drugs to a patient-something he'd been specifically prohibited from doing. It was channeled to me because Morales is billed as a psychic healer."
"Why is everyone so damn sure that Morales is the killer?"
"He was found standing over the body. Samuels and Jordon met every Thursday night at their offices to go over their business affairs. Morales got there early one night and slit Samuels' throat. Dr. Jordon came in a few minutes later and found Morales with the body. Morales had dropped the knife he'd used into a vial of acid."
"Then it was Jordon who reported the murder?"
"Right."
"That I didn't know. Sounds suspicious."
Garth smiled condescendingly. "Why? Jordon wasn't anywhere he wasn't supposed to be."
"What does Morales say happened?"
"He claims he received a call from Samuels asking him to meet Samuels a few minutes before Samuels' meeting with Jordon. When he got there, he saw the body and went over to it; that's when Dr. Jordon walked in. Hell, what would you expect him to say?"
"Does he have a lawyer?"
"Legal Aid."
"People who know the man say he's not a killer."
Garth shrugged. "Hey, he's a real nice old fellow; but then, even nice old fellows have been known to kill."
"How much investigating are you doing?"
"We're looking into it, but there just isn't anyone else with a motive to kill Samuels."
"No one that you know of, and you're not likely to find anyone else without a little digging. A complaint isn't that strong a motive, Garth."
"Hey, what can I tell you? He was found standing next to the body."
"Can I get in to see him?"
He thought about it, said: "Let me know when you're ready. If Morales and his lawyer don't have any objections, I'll see what I can do." He paused, drummed his fingers on the table. "Personally, I like the old man; I hope you do find out something. But I don't think you will."
"Thanks, brother. I'm not sure when I'll get to that, but I would appreciate it if you'd check with Morales. Tell him I'd like to help, if I can."
"Fair enough."
I knew I needed sleep, but wasn't sure I could. I shaved with Garth's razor, then took a hot shower. I dressed again, then lay down on the couch. I'd intended simply to rest until a more reasonable hour when I could try to reach Madeline Jones-but I was asleep by the time I put my feet up.
Chapter 6
My sleep was filled with recurring dreams of Kathy bursting into flames. I awoke with a start, realized where I was and anxiously glanced at my watch. It was nine thirty. Despite the fact that I'd had only two hours of troubled sleep, I felt oddly invigorated; it was an unnatural, nervous energy, fueled by anxiety-but I was grateful for it. It was time to go out and do battle again.
Garth and Regina were gone. I made myself a cup of acrid instant coffee, then called the university and asked for Madeline's extension. She answered the phone herself.
"Hey, darlin'," I said. "Guess who?"
"Mongo!" she exclaimed in her sultry, breathy voice. "My God, I haven't seen you in months."
"Well, that's not my fault; I'm not the one traipsing all over the world. I've got all the crooks I need right here in New York." I paused, lowered my voice. "Mad, I'd like to talk. Got a half hour for me?"
"Sure," she purred in a tone that always made me feel flushed. "And here I was afraid you'd forgotten all about me."
"I'll be there in a few minutes; I believe I'm going to have to take a cold shower first."
She laughed huskily, hung up.
I drove to the university, parked, then walked to the Hall of Sciences, where I found Madeline in her suite of offices. If there was order in the universe, it certainly wasn't reflected in Madeline Jones's working quarters. As usual, her office was cluttered with charts, telescope parts and other astronomical paraphernalia. A coffeepot was percolating on a hot plate on a corner of her desk, its pleasant aroma filling the room.