A dim bulb came to life.
Cutter Merlin had been fixing himself something to eat. Flies buzzed around a bowl of tomato soup and the sandwich on the plate beside it. Liam touched the bread; it was hard as a rock. An odor different from the intense smell of death but nearly as bad rose from the sandwich.
He walked through to the massive dining room. A bay window seat to the north usually gave a beautiful view of the Gulf, a magnificent site to watch the sunset. But he couldnt see the dying sun except for a sliver of light; the drapes had been drawn.
There was a patina of dust over the house. Cobwebs covered the chandelier over the dining table.
Cutter? Liam called the mans name, and then felt like an ass, talking to himself. He knew that Cutter was dead. No living man could have remained in that house with the odor, a miasma that was palpable.
One tile step led to the grand living room. The light from the kitchen wasnt enough to filter in, but, trying another switch, Liam discovered that it, too, was dead.
The room was cast in the eerie bloodred that was darkened by the shadows of the coming night.
It had once been beautiful, with Italian marble floors, elegant throw rugs and crimson Duncan Fife furnishings. Over the years, it had become cluttered, and not with the usual accumulation of silly souvenirs, magazines or papers. There were boxes everywhere. A suit of armorrealstood in a corner, near a Victorian coffin with a window at the head and a painting beneath the window to display how the dead might have been shown. A mummy case lay to one side of the fireplace, and an authentic voodoo altar lay to the right. A glass dome covered a shrunken head he knew to be from New Guinea, and a stuffed raven took precedence on the mantel. Everywhere you looked, there was an artifact from somewhere, some in pristine condition, others worn and falling apart. Animal heads adorned the walls along with African masks and feathered spears.
There was so much in the room to attract the eye in the strange mixture of shadow and light that Liam didnt even see the dead man at first.
And then he did.
Like one of his relics, Cutter Merlin was covered in a thin patina of dust. A spider had spun her web from the edge of Cutters reading glasses to the armrest of the rocking chair on which he sat.
Liam felt his heart sink. Hed known, of course. He found himself suddenly wishing that heor someonehad kept up with the old recluse. Cutter Merlin had always been kind to children. Hed been filled with wonderful tales about distant lands: Asia, Far East, Middle East, the jungles of South America and the sands of the Sahara desert. But his daughter had died, his son-in-law and granddaughter had moved away and he had closed himself in with his treasures. Then there had been the strange rumors about the old hermit and his collections. He practiced black magic. He made deals with the devil.
He sat now, just sat, a book in his hands, dust motes dancing in the crimson air around him. Old and frail, his hair long and white, his cheeks covered in a stubble of white beard, he looked as if he might speak. But, of course, he would never speak again.
Ah, Mr. Merlin! Liam said softly, walking toward the old man. He noted then that the corpses mouth was slightly open, while its eyes were wide-open as well behind steel-framed reading glasses. It was as if Cutter Merlin had died staring toward the foyer and the grand front entry, terrified of whatever he saw there. The expression on his face was so filled with horror that Liam found himself turning to look.
But there was nothing there. He turned and came down on one knee by the corpse. He realized that he would be saturated with the smell of death when he left, but it didnt matter; he had known the man. He was a sad old fellow who had given a great deal, and he had died alone, in fear.
He sighed softly, shaking his head sadly. He took out his cell and called in the death; the medical examiner would arrive soon.
There wasnt a terrible rush; Cutter Merlin was dead. The spider that had spun the web about him emerged from the old mans mouth, causing Liam to start and shudderand be glad that no one had been there to see his horrified reaction.
Liam frowned, noting the book on the old mans lap. It was large, with gold trim on the pages, and Liam judged it to be a hundred or more years old. He carefully lifted the cover, but the bloodred twilight was turning to darker and darker shadow, so he took his flashlight from his pocket, carefully lifting the book with the tip of the light.
In Defense from Dark Magick.
There was something in the old mans hand, as well. Liam knew not to touch him until the M.E. came, but he was curious, and it hardly appeared that this could be a case of murder. An old man had scared himself, and died from a heart attack.
His gloves were in the car, so he used the tip of the small laser light to shift the hand and see what was clutched in the fingers. The old man had long since gone in and out of rigor, so he wasnt stiff, and Liam was easily able to see what he clutched.
It was a casket, a little gold casket, like a jewelry box with its lid open for a special piece. Liam hadnt been an altar boy, but he had been brought to church every Sunday when hed been growing up. It seemed to him that the box was some kind of reliquary. It appeared to contain a small gold ball, filigreed, with the ball designed to fit into the casket, and the casket designed just to fit the ball.
Beneath the book on his lap, Cutter held an old sawed-off shotgun.
What were you doing, old man? Liam asked softly aloud. He shook his head and stood, looking around the room again. Boxes and crates and piecessome priceless, some surely pure junkseemed piled en masse. Now, the shadows stretched out like bone-fingered tentacles. Liam walked across the room to the main entrance, and, once again with his flashlight, studied the door. Odd. Cutter Merlin had prepared his dinner, simple soup and a sandwich. But he had never eaten it. He had taken a book and an old relic and gone to sit in his rocking chair by the fire, staring at the front door.
Staring as if he were waiting for someone, but with a book and gold casket as his weapons, along with a sawed-off shotgun. He hadnt pulled out the shotgun to aim at anyone; it remained on his lap, beneath the book.
Cutter Merlin had been called eccentric as long as Liam could remember.
In the last years, he had been referred to as a crazy hermit. To keep their children from playing near the shoreline where the boats came and the water could suddenly become deep, local parents had warned that the man was loony, that he might have been the devil.
The front door was locked. In fact, there were three bolts on the door now, and they were all secured.
It was as if Cutter Merlin had become quite frightened of some visitor in his dotage. Who?
Hed probably begun to suffer dementia. Alzheimers. And none of them had really known. Or cared. Liam felt horrible again; how had they all forgotten this man?
He walked back to the corpse. Cutter still stared at the door in fearand determination. He had been clutching the little casket as if his life had depended upon it.
Poor old fellow, Liam said. You were always good to me. Im sorry that I forgot you.
Hearing the approach of the M.E.s car, he returned to the door. He was about to unlatch the locks when he decided that he just might want to investigate the death further. He headed into the kitchen for a towel and covered his fingers to unlatch the bolts.
The M.E. was Franklin Valaski, a veteran of many a death, natural and unnatural. He was nearly Cutter Merlins own age, or at least he looked nearly as old. Maybe his years observing death had made him old early and given him that look of an old bulldog. He was short, stout, wrinkled and excellent at his job. He was followed by an assistant, one of the dieners at the morgue, who bore a stretcher.
So, old Merlin finally bit the dust, eh? Valaski said, shaking his head. Tell you the truth, I had all but forgotten the old bastard was out here.
Sad, huh? Liam murmured. Looks like a heart attack.
Lead the way, Valaski said.
Liam pointed to the rocking chair, and Valaski went on over to the corpse. The young diener nodded an appropriately grim greeting to Liam, which Liam returned, and then stared around the house.
The diener was gaping at what he saw.
You didnt know Merlin! Liam thought.
Then, naturally, he found himself thinking about Kelsey. Her mother had died here. He didnt know much about ithe had been fifteen at the time. It had been a tragic accident, he knew, and Kelseys father hadnt wanted to do anything except escape Key Westand the place where his beloved wife had perished.
He had been brokenhearted to see Kelsey go. But then, half his class had been in love with or in awe of Kelseyall of them budding into adolescence, a bit slowly, being boys. She had been a whirlwind of smiles and energy. In grade school, she had been a freckled little thing with thick pigtails. But in middle school she had shot up, and she had acquired an amazing shape. Unruly dark hair had become a beautiful and sleek deep brown, so shiny it seemed black, like a ravens wing. Her freckles had faded, and her eyes had become the deepest shade of blue that he had ever seen. She had been friendly to everyone, kind to the kids other kids picked on, and she had eschewed as sophomoric the idea of being a cheerleader or belonging to any club.
Sometimes, when people had teased her about her grandfather, she had let her eyes grow big and assured them that he was the devil. Then shed laughed and told them that he was an adventurer, and, until he had turned sixty, he had traveled the globe, battling primitive tribes on the islands of the Pacific and riding camels in the Sahara. She had defended him as the most magnificent explorer in the world. Hed even been to the North Pole!
Liam realized he hadnt thought about Kelsey in years, either. Hed heard about her fathers death; he had succumbed to a virulent flu a few years ago.
Hed sent her an e-mail knowing that he had learned about it long after the funeral. No flowers to sendeven if he had known where to send them.
Now, of course, hed have to find Kelsey, wherever she was. Probably still in Californiashe had become a cartoonist, hed heard. Naturallyshed always been a good artist. Hed find a phone number; it was one thing to send sympathy in a note after the fact; it was quite a different matter to tell her about a death that way. He didnt know what she would feel; Liam was pretty sure that she hadnt seen Cutter Merlin since shed left Key West.
Odd, Valaski announced.
Whats odd? Liam asked, walking toward the M.E.
Looks like a coronary, but
Yeah?
It looks as if he werescared to death, Valaski said.
He was an old man, and he probably wasnt under any medical care, Liam said. He might have been suffering from delusions.
Hmm, Valaski said, agreeing. Odd, thougha man who lived with a mummy, shrunken skulls, coffins and voodoo offerings. Stuffed animals. Bones. Petrified flesh. You wouldnt think hed scare easy.
He was old, Liam said softly. Old and forgotten.
Yes, of course. But whats really odd
His voice trailed off, as if he were deep in thought. Or memory.
Valaski? Liam prompted.
Valaski looked up at him. He seemed to give himself a shake, physically and mentally.
Nothing. Nothing, really. Its just thatWell, he seems to be wearing the same expression I saw on his daughters face. You remember her. Chelsea Merlin Donovan. Ill never forget. She was such a beautiful woman. She fell down the stairsdown that beautiful curving stairway right there. She died of a broken neck, and yetWell, she had this exact same expression on her face. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Her husband was holding her, tears streaming down his face. She had fallenand yet her eyes were open, her lips just ajarand she seemed to be staring at the most terrifying thing in the universe. Just like Cutter here. Good God, I wonder what it was that they saw?
Chapter One
Kelsey Donovan was at home, working beneath the bright light above her drafting desk, when her phone rang. She answered it distractedly.
Yes?
Kelsey? Is this Kelsey Donovan?
It was odd, Kelsey thought later, that she didnt recognize Liam Becketts voice the minute he called, but, then again, it had been a long, long time since she had heard it, and theyd both been basically children at the time.
His voice was low, deep, confident and well-cultured, with the tiniest hint of the South. Naturallythey were from the southernmost city in the United States, even if that city had never been completely typically Southern or typically anything at all. Key West was an olio of countries, times, and people, and accents came from across the globe.
And still
Its Liam.
Liam Beckett?
Yes, Kelsey. Hello. Im sorry to be calling you. Well, Im not sorry to be calling you, Im just sorry because ofthe news I have to give you.
Her heart seemed to sink several inches down into her stomach.
Its Cutter, isnt it? she asked.
Im afraid so, Kelsey. He was quiet a minute. Im afraid he died a couple of days ago. We just found him.
A heart couldnt sink lower than into the stomach, could it? It seemed that the depths of her body burned with sorrow and regret. It was human, she tried to tell herself, to put off until tomorrow what should have been done today. She hadnt gone back.
Why in hell had she never gone back? She had meant to, she had promised Cutter Merlin, her only living relative, that she would do so. And yet
Even after her father had passed away, there had been that dark, empty place that had made her afraid to do so.
Kelsey? Are you there?
Yes, Im here. ImThank you. Thank you for calling me.
Of course. He was silent, and then he cleared his throat awkwardly. Well, there are matters, of course, that must be dealt with. The property is yoursand the decision on the final arrangements for his interment are yours as well, of course.
Um She couldnt think. She didnt want to think. She didnt want to sit here and think of herself as being such a low and callous human being for not having gone back. Whatever had happened when she had been a teenager, she didnt think that it had been her grandfathers fault, no matter what her father had believed. And her father hadnt actually called Cutter evil, he had told her he was a good man. He hadnt even said that the house was evil. But there had been something. She had known that her father believed that her mothers death hadnt been an accident, and that he had taken Kelsey away from the house because he had wanted her away from Cutter Merlin.