Krowl sat in silence for almost five minutes, absently tapping his fingertips together as he stared at the cards. He seemed very much interested in whatever it was he was seeing.
"This is an unusual layout," Krowl said at last in a soft, clipped voice. He looked at me inquiringly. I felt a fluttering in my stomach, but said nothing. Finally Krowl returned his attention to the cards and exposed the card that had been covering The Fool.
"The Queen of Swords," Krowl continued. "We say that the card in this position 'covers' you. It represents the general atmosphere surrounding your question. As you can see, it is a woman. The Queen of Swords may be a widow. I'm certain she's the woman I mentioned-the one in your thoughts."
He pointed to the card he had laid across The Fool. "This 'crosses' you. It's the Two of Cups-Desire. You have a very strong attraction to this woman. Frankly, the rest of the layout is confusing. The card at the bottom is The Devil. In this position it represents something which has happened to you in the past-and which is important to the matter. The Devil is a powerful card. And evil." He hesitated, rapped his knuckles once, hard, on the gleaming surface of the table. "There is evil surrounding the woman," he said forcefully. "Black magic. Does that mean anything to you, Frederickson?"
"You're doing the reading," I said tightly.
Krowl took off his glasses and stared at me with his pale eyes. "The Devil can also indicate the psychic. Something dark. Have you had a psychic experience lately?"
Krowl had shaken me with his comments about a woman; now I felt as if I'd been hit between the eyes with a hammer. The dream. As much as I'd been resisting thinking about it, I had had a "psychic" experience: Transcending all the laws of logic and science, a comatose child had somehow reached out across an unmapped abyss of the spirit and touched my mind in order to tell me she was in danger. The dream had been vivid and complete, from the flames surrounding Kathy to the gown she'd been wearing. The dream had enabled me to save Kathy's life-but it was an experience I still wasn't psychologically prepared to examine.
"Finish the reading," I said tautly, struggling to keep my voice steady. "Then maybe we'll see how it all ties in."
Krowl made a harsh sound in his throat and started to rise. "You're uncooperative and hostile," he said, anger sparking on the hard flint of his voice. "I don't understand what you're doing here."
"I would like you to finish the reading," I heard myself saying. "I'm curious."
Krowl hesitated, then shrugged and sat back down again. He continued in a perfunctory, almost apathetic, tone. "The card on the left side of the cross shows an influence which may be just passing away: it's the Page of Swords, reversed. It's a sick child-perhaps the woman's daughter. At the top is the Five of Wands. It represents something that may happen in the future. This is a card of violence. There's violence around you; I can feel it, as well as see it in your cards."
A large, invisible hand planted itself on my chest and pushed me back in the chair. My gaze rose to the Tiffany lamp over the table; more than half the shards in its glittering surface were the color of blood. The hand reached inside my chest, wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed. Images swam in the glass; the faces of people I'd known-some good, some evil, all dead. In an age when most detective work was sterile and boring, done with computers and phone checks, I continually found myself involved with high-fever cases that grew into epidemics of death. It seemed wherever I went in my career, I left a foaming, bloody wake filled with bodies; whatever garden I set out to till ended up Golgotha. But I survived. I was a carrier. Now Kathy and April had been exposed.
My neck and ears felt hot. Krowl had been reading my mail, and I found that the fear I'd initially felt was rapidly metamorphosing into anger. There could be any number of explanations for what seemed to be the deadly accuracy of Krowl's reading; he could very well have read about me and the violence that usually attended my investigations. What Krowl could not possibly know-because I hadn't realized it myself until he'd pointed it out to me-was the importance April Marlowe had suddenly assumed in my life. Krowl had hit that target dead center. The truth was that April Marlowe distracted me as much as-or more than-the plight of her daughter, or the Senator's. It was ugly, hard for me to admit; but it was true. It made me feel ashamed.
Krowl pointed to the card on the right side of the cross. It showed a dog baying at the moon. A large, ominous-looking crayfish was crawling out of a pond at the dog's feet. "The Moon," Krowl said, placing his forefinger on the card. "Its position represents something that may happen soon. The Moon may stand for deception, unforeseen perils.. secret enemies." He pursed his lips and squinted at me. "Possibly bad luck for one you love."
"What kind of bad luck?" I asked quickly. My voice sounded strange in my ears, shrill and strained.
Krowl smiled broadly, as though he'd won a major concession from me. "I don't know," he said quietly. "The woman is sad now; I pick that up from you. She's surrounded by trouble, and I sense that you carry much of that trouble with you; you bring it to her."
"What do the rest of the cards tell you?" I asked, pointing to the vertical line of cards on his right. I hoped my voice was steady, but I'd experienced an unnerving flash of the "bad luck" I'd brought to others in the past. Like Garth: A woman he'd loved had died in the desert sands of Iran, six thousand miles away. Garth himself had fired the bullet that killed her.
"The Nine of Swords," he said, pointing to the card at the bottom of the vertical line. "Its symbols speak for themselves. The card is in the position representing your fears-in this case suffering and illness, possibly the death of one you love." He frowned and suddenly swept his hand over to the Page of Swords on the opposite side of the cross. "Or the woman's daughter," he added quietly. "It's the woman's daughter you fear for. And-" He abruptly stopped speaking and stared intently at the cards, as though looking for something. Finally he shook his head, continued.
"The next position represents the opinion of family and friends. As you see, the card is Strength. All it means is that you know they have faith in you.
"The next card is the Six of Swords, and it's in the position of your hopes. The card is a logical one for the 'hope' position. A man-you, obviously-ferries a woman and her daughter across a lake toward a more peaceful place.
"The last card represents the outcome. It's the Ten of Swords: disaster."
Krowl let the prediction drop perfunctorily, then removed his glasses, leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. The light from the overhead lamp danced eerily in his pink eyes. "Normally, at this point I'd try to be upbeat," he continued casually. "I'd try to assure you that the trends shown by the cards don't necessarily have to come to pass. I'd tell you that the cards reflect your present state of mind, and what could happen if you don't change your present behavior patterns. But I don't think you care about what I have to say. I still think you came here for some other reason."
"You're very perceptive, Krowl," I said, meaning it. My stomach was churning, and I felt light-headed. I hoped it didn't show. I found I disliked Krowl; he was arrogant and-to judge by the way he'd handled my reading-cruel. He was also, as I'd been warned, damn good.
"Thank you," Krowl said with a thin smile. "Now, why don't you tell me what it is you really want?"
"I came to see you because I wanted to see what the tarot cards are all about, and you've shown me," I said. "But it's true that I had another reason for coming here. I need information."