"Mary?"
"God," she murmured. "It's Tom Blaine, isn't it?"
"I think so. Listen, I'm going into the house to call the police, but I'd like you to wait for me down here for a few minutes. Will you be all right?"
When she moved her head slightly in what I took to be an assenting nod, I hurried up the path beneath the overhang, up to the house. Not surprisingly, Sacra Silver's car was still in the driveway, and so I wasn't surprised either to find him still in the music room, sitting in Garth's chair.
I went to the kitchen, picked up the telephone, and called the Cairn police to report what we had found on the river. Then I tried to call Garth to tell him that his friend was dead. He wasn't home, or he wasn't answering the phone, so I left a message on his machine. Then I went into the music room. Silver was half dozing, a magazine in his lap. He heard me come in, opened his eyes, and studied me. He seemed amused by something, probably by the way he assumed my conversation with Mary had gone. He picked up his empty glass off the side table, held it out toward me.
"Get me another drink, will you, Frederickson?"
"Sure," I replied easily as I walked toward him across the polished hardwood floor. When I reached him, I took the glass from his hand, tossed it over my shoulder, then kicked him hard in the right shin, just above his boot top. He hooted in surprise and pain, jackknifed the upper part of his body down, and grabbed hold of his hurting ankle. I grabbed two handfuls of hair, yanked him out of the chair and onto the floor, face down. He started to roll over, saving me the trouble of turning him. I kicked him again, this time directly in the solar plexus. He jack-knifed again, rolled on his other side, and retched, wheezing and gasping for air. While he occupied himself with the task of trying to breathe, I went about the business of patting him down. He wasn't carrying any weapons. I squatted down in front of his face, rapped him hard on the top of his skull with my knuckles.
"Hello," I said. "Anyone home? I don't mean to be rude, big fella, but I needed to make sure I had your full attention. You're a hard man to talk to. It's time to say good night. If I knew how to get you out of the lives of my brother and sister-in-law with magic, I'd use it, but I'm not much into magic. You've got Mary shook up real good, and she's got my brother shook up real good. Neither of them is thinking clearly or behaving properly, so that leaves me in the position of acting as their champion, if you will. Mary tells me that she wants you out of her house, and out of her life, and I intend to see that her wish is granted. Now, I want you to haul your skinny ass out of here as soon as you get your wind back. You'll be pleased to know that I'm not going to thump on you anymore, because I want you to be able to drive."
"You. . little. . dwarf fuck. You. . sucker-punched me."
"I didn't punch you, Sacra, I kicked you. I want you to know I'm the meanest little dwarf fuck you're ever likely to meet. I felt a demonstration was in order, because I had to show you I was serious. If you try to cause any more trouble, I'm the one you're going to have to deal with-not Mary, not Garth. Now, it seems to me that you have a limited number of options. You can go to the police and charge me with assault, but I don't advise that. What with your little disappearing act, and the illegal butterfly knife that you pulled on my brother, your credibility with the cops probably isn't at its peak right now. The cops would insist on knowing your real name, and I don't think you want to give it. Finally, you'd be laughed at; you wouldn't want it bandied about that the mighty Sacra Silver had been beaten up by a little dwarf fuck, now, would you?
"Your second option is to get up and cast a magic spell and hope that I disappear or turn into a toad. If you try that, you'd better hope that it works, because if it doesn't, I'm going to start kicking you again.
"Your third option is to do what I said, haul your ass out of here, and keep it out. This is the course of action I recommend.
You're not to contact Mary again, ever. If I hear that you've so much as sent her a postcard, I'm going to find you and resume this demonstration. I will beat the shit out of you. Do you understand?"
"There's another choice, dwarf," he said in a rasping voice as, still holding one hand to his stomach, he managed to get up on his knees. His black eyes glittered now, shimmering brightly with hatred. "I'll kill you."
"What a terrible thing to say. I'd really hoped you'd begin to show a change in attitude."
Still looking a little wobbly, he slowly rose to his feet and glared at me. Then he did just about what I'd expected him to do, which was to kick at me as if he were trying to score a field goal. I spun counterclockwise away from the kick, then stepped in close to his body and swept his supporting leg out from under him. He landed flat on his back. I hopped on his chest and sat down hard, pressing the index and middle fingers of my left hand against his eyeballs, while at the same time grabbing his throat with my right hand, applying just enough pressure on the carotid artery to discourage him from putting up too much of a fuss about my sitting on him. I squeezed the artery; his hands started to come up toward me, and I applied a little more pressure to his eyeballs. His arms froze in place, and then his hands started to tremble. Then his arms slowly sank back to his sides. When I judged that he was just about ready to pass out, I released the pressure on his throat and eyes, got up off his chest, and backed away a few paces.
"I was hoping to be able to continue our interesting conversation," I said as Silver, holding his throat with both hands, slowly sat up, "but something's come up that requires my undivided attention. I just don't have any more time for funnin' with you, so we've got to get it on here. We're going to resolve the issue. Now, if you want to take another pass at me, I'll give you a chance to rest between rounds."
He continued to glare at me, but now there was uncertainty and fear mingled with the hatred in his eyes. Finally he looked away. He was finished.
"Exercise your option of getting out of here, Silver," I continued quietly. "And stay away. If you don't, you're going to get round two with the little dwarf fuck, whether you want to or not. You know I could've put a lot more hurt on you than I did. I don't care how many bad spells you try to cast on me, as long as you do it long-distance-which should be no problem for a hotshot ceremonial magician like you. Come at me with a knife or gun, and I'll kill you and claim self-defense. Now, either take another shot at me or get out. Your choice."
He swayed slightly on his feet, still not looking directly at me, then moved unsteadily toward the door. "Your car's behind mine," he mumbled.
"There's room for you to back around it. Don't scratch the paint."
Standing just inside the screen door at the back, I waited and watched until he was gone. Then I retrieved the plastic-wrapped tumbler from the cabinet where I had hidden it. I put the tumbler in the glove compartment of my car, then went back down to the beach.
Mary was standing exactly where and as I had left her, next to the canoe, staring out over the water with her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. Coast Guard and Cairn Police River Patrol boats had arrived on the scene, and their revolving red, green, and white lights flashed as divers carefully removed the drift net and its sad, gruesome contents from the buoys.
I put my hand in the small of Mary's back, gently kneaded the tense muscles. "He's gone," I said. "I don't think he'll bother you anymore. If he does, you let me know immediately, anytime day or night."
She turned her head to look down at me, disbelief clearly reflected in her eyes. "Sacra's. . gone?"