She stretched out an imploring hand, the movement graceful even in her overwrought state. "Enrique! Poor Enrique! He loved you. He would have done anything for you.'*
"He did. He died for me."
"Why?"
I thought of one of her favorite lines, Evil doesn't need a reason to exist, but I didn't want to quote her. I didn't want to honor her. "He meant too much to you."
"You were jealous?" she asked, still trying to understand.
I laughed. She was so far off. "I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to be a lonely old woman. I wanted to take away everybody you cared about."
Her gaze fell to the gurney. "Who is that?" She stepped closer.
"David Gould."
"The detective? If what you say is true, what does he have to do with any of this? He means nothing to me."
"I just like him."
She nodded, remembering. "Even when you were little, you had a strong curiosity about death. Something unhealthy. Something compelling and twisted and sick."
"Go back home, old woman."
I'd forgotten how she could annoy me so quickly. "I've had enough of you already."
"I should have destroyed you when you were young," she said. "When I realized you were evil. But I couldn't kill my own child. My own baby girl."
"I'm not your daughter! You conjured me!" Sudden tears stung my eyes. I impatiently wiped them away with the back of my hand. "You conjured me from twigs and cat intestines soaked in blood!"
"No!"
She pretended to be shocked by my words. What an actress.
"Who told you such a lie?" she asked.
How could I possibly recall the origins of something I'd always known?
"You are my daughter. A part of me. Just as Delil-iah was my daughter. You pretended that you tried to save her, but I could see through you. I could always see through you. But you were never conjured. I wish I could say you were. I wish I could say you didn't come from me, but that would be a lie."
I pulled out the knife I'd used to kill Enrique and Flora. It was very sharp, and I was filled with hatred and rage. This woman had ruined my life. She had showered attention on Deliliah, then Enrique and Flora, while ignoring me. While pushing me away.
"You were evil," she said, trying to explain away her failings.
"You should love all of your children equally," I told her. "That's a mother's job. To love without blame, without question."
"Even murderers?"
"Even murderers."
I lifted the knife high.
She should have zigzagged. She should have made a crooked path out of there. Instead, she remained immobile, watching me. She placed a splayed hand to her breast, where she must have had a wanga hidden. Her mouth began to move, and she muttered words meant to bring me down:
If I hang from a single thread In a place no one shall see It will bring fear into the heart of her who shall harm me It will bring fear into the heart of her who shall harm me She will be binded by fear from harming me She will be binded by fear from harming me.
I came from the earth and dead things; I was stronger than any spell she could cast.
"Evil travels in a straight line," I told her. I brought the blade down, plunging it into the heart of my mother, the heart of Strata Luna.
Chapter 45
Elise listened to the crackling and scurrying of a million cockroaches, and the sound of dripping water.
Where was her backup? She pulled out her cell phone.
No signal.
She checked her watch. Starsky and Hutch should have reached Mary of the Angels by now.
Never go in without backup.
Every rookie knew that.
She returned the phone to her pocket and continued in the direction of the cemetery.
As she walked, her subterranean view never seemed to change. The tunnel stretched out before her, going on and on until reaching a vanishing point like some artistic lesson in perspective.
Suddenly her flashlight beam picked up a dark shape in the distance.
Elise shut off the light and jumped from one side of the tunnel to the other, quickly changing her position. Crouched, she pulled out her handgun and listened.
Poets and writers always tried to describe complete and total darkness, but it couldn't be done. It wasn't just being unable to see the smallest flicker of anything. It was that weird and false sensation of having something solid right in front of your face.
Something all around you.
Closing in.
Audrey tried David Gould's number again. Still no answer. She hung up and slipped on her panda bear backpack. Maybe he was home. Maybe he just wasn't answering his phone. Some people did that. Audrey didn't know why, but they did.
Mary of the Angels wasn't that far from the police station. Probably eight blocks. She would just walk there. See if she could find David.
Her dad always told her to be careful in the Historic and Victorian Districts, not to walk around by herself, but it wasn't night, and there were lots of people out, especially tourists taking pictures and staring at buildings and talking about how hot it was.
It didn't take Audrey long to get to Mary of the Angels.
A spooky place, really old with lots of ivy. Up high, on top of the building, were weird iron silhouettes, the gray roof reminding her of a place where chimney sweeps would dance and sing and get dirty.
She spotted a police car in front of the building. And a lot of people standing outside. Two of them were detectives she recognized from the police station.
She went up to one of them and asked what they were doing.
"Aren't you Elise Sandburg's kid?" the detective asked. He had a red face and freckles.
Audrey clung to her backpack straps. "She told me to call David Gould, but he isn't answering his phone. Is something wrong with him9" CUa hoped not. That gave her a weird feeling in her stomach.
"We don't know."
"Where's my mom? Wasn't she meeting you at Strata Luna's?" Audrey was feeling more nervous by the second. "She told me you were serving a search warrant."
"Something came up here," the detective said, glancing nervously at his partner.
They were keeping secrets. Audrey could tell.
"Is my mom okay?" she asked, her voice rising.
He put out his hands as if she were a dog he was trying to keep from jumping on him. "She's in a little tunnel under Mary of the Angels, that's all. No big deal. She should be showing up here soon."
"In the tunnel? By herself? She wouldn't do that. I know she wouldn't do that."
"She's in the tunnel," the partner said, beginning to sound annoyed.
"Then why are you out here?" Audrey glanced around.
Two police officers were just standing by the apartment building, talking to a gray-haired guy holding a cat.
"Why aren't you in the tunnel too?"
The detectives looked at each other, and Audrey could see shame in their faces. "They're too dangerous," the freckled man told her. "Nobody is supposed to go in them. Not even the police."
"You have to go in there!" Audrey said, looking from one to the other. "You have to!"
She knew about public ridicule. After all, she was thirteen.
"Are you afraid to go in the tunnel?" she taunted. "Are you afraid of a few little bugs?"
Elise's heart was hammering in her head.
Her breathing was choppy.
She couldn't hear anything but the beat of her own fear.
Should have waited for backup.
No time!
She straightened to a half crouch. Slowly, her eyes open wide and straining at nothing, she moved forward.
She tried to retrieve the image. Tried to recall exactly how it had looked.
Dark. Misshapen. Maybe the size of a person, but it could also have been something else. Some artifact left over from the time the tunnels had been secretly used to cart plague victims to the cemetery.
She paused and straightened.
With feet spread and legs braced, she held her gun against the flashlight, aiming in the direction she thought the shape should be. But like someone driving in heavy fog, she found it impossible to gauge how far she'd come since turning off the light, and how far away the shape had been to begin with.