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I shook my head. "I don't know how to get in touch with her. Kathy mentioned her once or twice, but I didn't really pay attention. Frank Marlowe and I were only casual acquaintances; aside from the fact that he was divorced and Kathy stayed with him during the summer, I didn't know anything about his private life. You're the first relative I've been able to find."

His eyes narrowed. "How did you become involved with this in the first place?"

"Kathy asked me to find her father's book of shadows," I said, still slightly stunned by the information that Daniel was Kathy's uncle. "Apparently, she heard her father say that either you or Esobus had stolen it."

I filled Crandall in on what had happened. He listened in silence. When I'd finished, he nodded distantly. "Thank you for saving Kathy's life," he said quietly.

"She's still in great danger. Her mother should be told right away."

"I'll take care of that, Frederickson," he murmured. He seemed totally distracted as he fumbled inside his suit jacket, produced a checkbook. "I appreciate what you've done. Let me pay-"

"I don't want your money, Crandall," I said sharply. "Your niece is my client, not you. And I still have a lot of questions. Did you take Frank Marlowe's book of shadows?"

It was some time before he answered. "This is an affair of sorcerers," he said at last.

"Terrific. I can't wait to use my thirty-eight-caliber wand on one of those bastards. I think it's time we called in the police."

"The police can't do anything for Kathy. Neither can you."

"But you can?"

"I'm the only one who can."

"And I say you're full of shit. You tell me Kathy's your niece, and I believe you. I also believe you didn't hurt her. But you damn well know more than you're telling me; you're plugged into this screwball scene right up to your eyeballs." I sighed with frustration and weariness. "For Christ's sake, she's your niece and you're playing with her life! Why don't you just tell me what this is all about so we can call in the proper authorities?"

"Stay out of this!" he hissed. "And stay away from me! I tell you there is nothing anyone else can do! I know what I'm talking about."

He again raised his right hand and started to move toward me; his hand was balled into a fist except for the ring finger, which was rigidly extended, pointing at my forehead.

"Touch me again and I'll crack your kneecap," I said, going into a crouch.

Crandall stopped, slowly put his hand down. That round went to me. I waited for him to say something, but he walked quickly around me and out through the office door. I followed, but he strode straight ahead and out of the bank without a backward glance. By the time I got to the street, he'd disappeared from sight. I walked to my car, got in behind the wheel and pulled out into the traffic.

I was almost sideswiped at the next corner, and it was only when I glanced in the rearview mirror that I realized I'd run a red light. I opened the window and took a deep breath; I was going to have to start paying attention to the all-too-real world around me. What with psychic healers, screwball Nobel Prize winners and homicidal witches, the previous Friday looked to have been a real loser on my horoscope.

Lack of sleep finally caught up with me an hour out of Philadelphia. The deadly monotony of the New Jersey Turnpike beat on me like a club. When I caught myself weaving back and forth between the center line and the shoulder of the road, I parked at the first rest stop, crawled into the back seat and promptly fell asleep.

I woke up at six fifteen feeling grubby but refreshed. I used a gas-station rest room to wash up, then sped into New York and went directly to the hospital. Visiting hours were over at eight thirty, but I made it by eight. Kathy was in the Intensive Care Unit, with no visitors allowed. I'd hoped to check with Dr. Greene, but I was told he wasn't available. That meant he was catching up on his sleep, which was probably more important than anything he could say to me. I left a message for him to call me at home whenever he could.

I was on my way to the elevator when I caught sight of a familiar figure sitting next to a woman in a small waiting room off the corridor. I went in. "What's the latest word on your niece?" I asked Daniel.

There was a vacant look in the ceremonial magician's eyes as he turned his head and looked at me. Without a word he rose and walked from the room, leaving me alone with the woman. She was short, maybe a foot or so taller than I was, and strikingly beautiful in a natural, totally understated way. She had to be Daniel's sister, because she had the same gray eyes, with just a touch of blue. The eyes were large and sensual, with natural long lashes. She was dressed in soft leather boots, French-cut jeans and steel-blue silk blouse. Around her neck she wore a necklace consisting of a fine gold chain supporting a dove which had been carved from ivory; the dove and silk on denim added just the right touch of vulnerable femininity. She had what looked like natural reddish-blond hair that fell neatly across her shoulders. She struck me as a person who was normally very much in control of herself. Her eyes were dry at the moment, but they were red-rimmed, and it was obvious she'd been crying before I walked in.

"You must be Robert Frederickson," the woman said, rising and offering me her hand. The hand was small and smooth and fitted easily into mine. "I'm April Marlowe; Kathy's mother."

I motioned for her to sit down again, then sat beside her. "How's Kathy?" I asked.

For a moment I thought she was going to cry, but she didn't. "Dr. Greene says that she seems stable."

"But she's still in a coma?"

April Marlowe nodded. "Yes, but I'm confident the doctors are doing all they can." She paused, dropped her eyes. "Dr. Greene and my brother told me about all you've done. You saved Kathy from the fire, and I know you're still trying to help. Please don't be offended, but I know you're a professional detective; I'd. . like to pay you."

"I'm not offended, Mrs. Marlowe, and paying me isn't necessary. Kathy's already taken care of my fee."

"Kathy-?"

"Never mind; it's not important. I assume Dr. Greene has asked you about Kathy's medical background?"

She nodded slowly. "Kathy doesn't have any allergies. It seems she's been. . poisoned." She suddenly reached out and touched my hand. "Mr. Frederickson, how can I thank you?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Three or four hours," she said. "My brother picked me up after he'd spoken with you. Why?"

"Then you haven't eaten?"

She shook her head, clasped her hands together tightly. "I'm not hungry."

"I am. If you don't mind eating with an unshaven dwarf, I'd like you to have dinner with me." She glanced at me quickly, puzzled and perhaps a little frightened. "I know a nice restaurant in the next block," I continued. "I'll leave word at the nurses' station where to reach us if there's a need, but I suspect we could all be in for a long siege. There's nothing to be done here now, so let's eat. I'd like to ask you some questions."

She thought about it, then gave a barely perceptible nod of her head. I took her elbow and helped her to her feet. I left word at the nurses' station that we'd be at The Granada, and wrote down the number.

"Where's your brother?" I asked the petite woman as we headed toward the elevator. "Maybe he'd like to go with us; in fact, I'd like it if he did."

"He won't talk to you," she said softly. "He'll find us if he wants to see us."

It was true that Crandall could always check at the nurses' station to see where we'd gone, but I sensed that April Marlowe hadn't meant it that way. I glanced sideways to see her face, but she was obviously thinking about something else. I guided her into the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor.