"Is this a con?" he asked grittily. "If it is, tell me right out now, and we'll let it go at that."
I shook my head. "Mr. Tandy, I know it sounds incredible, but if you call Dr. Hughes he will tell you the same story. And you have a cast-iron guarantee that it isn't a con. You don't have to pay any money at all until Karen is well. If she doesn't recover, that will mean that Singing Rock here has failed, and so he won't be needing the money anyway. If he fails, he may die."
Singing Rock nodded soberly.
Jeremy Tandy stood up and paced the floor like a puma in a cage.
"My daughter's sick," he snapped. "They tell me she's dying. Then they tell me she's giving birth to a three-hundred-year-old medicine man. Then they tell me I'm going to need another medicine man to get rid of the first medicine man, and that's going to cost me thirty thousand bucks."
He turned to me.
"Now is that bullshit, or is that bullshit?" he asked.
I tried not to lose my temper. "Mr. Tandy, I know it sounds crazy. But why don't you just call Dr. Hughes? Dr. Hughes is a world expert on tumors. He knows more about tumors than I know about the New York subway, and I've been traveling on it since I was knee high to a high knee. Call him. Find out. But don't waste any time, because Karen is dying and as far as everyone can see there's only one way to save her."
Jeremy Tandy stopped pacing, and stared at me with his head on one side.
"Do you really mean that you're not kidding?" he said.
"No, Mr. Tandy, I am not kidding. I am serious. Ask Mrs. Karmann here. She saw the face on the table, didn't you, Mrs. Karmann?"
Mrs. Karmann nodded. "It's true, Jerry. I saw it with my own eyes. I trust Mr. Erskine. He isn't lying."
Mrs. Tandy reached up and took her husband's hand. "Jerry, darling, if it's the only way — we must do it."
There was a long silence. Singing Rock brought out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. Somehow I never imagined that Indian medicine men needed handkerchiefs.
Finally, Jeremy Tandy threw up his hands.
"All right," he said. "You win. All I want is my daughter back again, sound and well, and if you can do that you can have sixty thousand bucks."
"Thirty is okay," said Singing Rock, and when he said that, I think that Jeremy Tandy finally believed that the manitou was for real.
After lunch, I drove Singing Rock up to meet Dr. Hughes at the Sisters of Jerusalem Hospital. Karen was under very heavy sedation, and there was a male nurse constantly at her bedside. Dr. Hughes took us down to see her and for the first time, Singing Rock saw exactly what he was up against. He stood at a respectful distance from the manitou, gazing at it above his surgical mask with worried eyes.
"Phew," he said softly. "That's something."
Jack Hughes stood nervously beside him. "What do you think, Singing Rock?"
"To quote a hackneyed line from old cowboy films, Dr. Hughes, this is heap powerful medicine. I've seen a lot of weird things — but this…"
"Come on," said Jack, "let's get out of here."
We went back to his office and sat down. Singing Rock pulled a tissue from the box on Jack Hughes' desk and carefully mopped his forehead.
"Well," said Jack. "What's our plan of action?"
"The first thing I'd say is that we don't have long," said Singing Rock. "The way that manitou's growing, we'll need to be ready by tomorrow at the latest. What I'll have to do is mark out a magic circle around the bed, so that when the medicine man comes out, he can't cross it. That will hold him long enough to give me time to try and subjugate him with my own medicines. At least, I hope it will. It's quite possible that he's powerful enough to cross any magic circle I'm able to draw. I just don't know — and I won't know — until he actually appears. It depends on how much the X-rays have affected him. The original spell, the spell which he used to have himself reborn, is just as strong as he was able to make it in 1650. But any new spells he tries to cast may be hampered by what you've done to him. On the other hand, they may not. I can't count on it. They may have made him much more vengeful, and his magic more evil."
Jack Hughes sighed. "You don't sound very hopeful."
"How can I be?" said Singing Rock. "This is strictly David and Goliath. If I can hit him with a stone from my puny slingshot, I may be lucky and knock him out. But if I miss, then he's going to flatten me."
"Is there anything you need?" I asked him. "Any occult aids?"
Singing Rock shook his head. "I brought all my goodies with me. If we can fetch my small suitcase out of your car, Harry, I could start right away by drawing the medicine circle. That will give us some protection, at least."
Dr. Hughes picked up the phone and asked for a porter. When the man arrived, he sent him down to my car in the basement, with instructions to collect Singing Rock's case.
"Whatever you do," said Singing Rock, "you mustn't disturb Karen Tandy's body when the medicine man has left her. It mustn't be touched under any circumstances. If you disturb it even slightly, then the chances of her manitou being able to return to it and being revitalized will be practically nil."
"Supposing the medicine man disturbs it himself…" I asked.
Singing Rock looked unhappy. "If that happens, then we're probably wasting our time."
Jack Hughes said: "What I don't understand is why we can't just shoot him. He's a human being; after all, with normal flesh and blood."
"That would defeat everything we've tried to do," said Singing Rock. "If you shoot him, his spirits will go to what the Indians used to call the Happy Hunting Grounds. His spirit, and Karen Tandy's spirit, and any other spirits he may have collected during his several lifetimes. If you kill him that way, then Karen Tandy will be gone for good. He possesses her manitou, and only he can release it. Voluntarily, or under duress."
"And you don't think there's any chance of him releasing it voluntarily…" asked Jack Hughes.
"Not a hope." said Singing Rock.
"And what do you think your chances are of being able to force it out of him?"
Singing Rock scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Three percent," he said. "That's if I'm lucky."
At that moment, the porter came up with the case. Singing Rock took it, laid it on Dr. Hughes' desk, and opened it. As far as I could see, it was crammed with old hair and bones and packets of powder.
"Okay," said the medicine man. "Everything's here. Let's go down and draw the circle."
We went downstairs again, and into Karen Tandy's private room. She was lying exactly as before, white-faced, with the swollen lump reaching almost down to her waist. Singing Rock didn't look at her, but busied himself taking powders and bones out of his case and laying them neatly on the floor.
"I want you to understand," he said, "that once I have drawn this circle it must not be touched or disturbed in any way. You can cross it, but you must be extremely careful not to smudge it or break it. If it's even slightly broken, then it's useless."
Dr. Hughes said: "Okay. I'll make sure that everyone who comes in here knows about that."
Singing Rock went down on his hands and knees, and poured a circular track of red powder from a paper packet all the way around the bed. Then, inside it, he poured a circular track of white powder. At regular intervals he laid down dry white human bones, and spoke a soft incantation over each of them. Then he laid a garland of human hair all around the circle — old scalps from his tribe's historic totem.
"Gitche Manitou, protect me," he prayed. "Gitche Manitou, hear me and protect me."
As he said these words, I felt a cold thrill slide down my back. Karen, on the bed, had opened one eye, and was staring fixedly across at Singing Rock with a quiet malevolence.