Part 48 (1/2)
”Don't tell me,” he said. ”Someone slit their throats too?”
”Worse,” Kristadoulou said with a grimace of distaste. ”They'd been moved in only a short while when the little boy they'd just adopted was found horribly mutilated in the upstairs bedroom.”
Jack closed his eyes. Now he understood Gia's reaction.
”Any reason given?”
Kristadoulou shook his head. ”None. Herbert was found in a daze in the house and later died in the hospital.”
”'Later died'?” Jack said. ”What's that mean?”
”That's what I was told,” Kristadoulou replied. ”I checked with the hospital-he was taken to Downstate Medical Center-but no one would tell me how he died. They said I wasn't a relative and had no right to know, but I sensed more than ethics involved there. They were afraid.”
”Afraid of what?” Jack said.
Kristadoulou shrugged. ”Of a lawsuit, perhaps. But I sensed it went deeper than that. I got the feeling it had to do with how how he died.” He raised his hand in a stop gesture. ”Don't waste any more breath on Herb Lom. I've told you all I know.” he died.” He raised his hand in a stop gesture. ”Don't waste any more breath on Herb Lom. I've told you all I know.”
Lyle said, ”What about his wife?”
”Sara was never seen or heard from again. As if she vanished from the face of the earth. Or never existed. No one could find a single relative of hers, and Herb left no will, so the house stood vacant for years before it came back to me like an old debt and I had to sell her again. But this time no one wanted her at any price.” He smiled and pointed to Lyle. ”Until you came along.”
Lyle grinned. ”I wanted the place because because of its history.” of its history.”
”But now you're not so happy, is that right?”
”It's not a matter of happy. I'm just trying to get a handle on what might be going on there.”
They made small talk for a few more minutes, then thanked Kristadoulou for his time and left.
”Dmitri is a player in this,” Jack said as soon as they hit the bright hot sidewalk. ”Got to be.”
”But he's dead.”
”Yeah,” Jack said, squinting in the sunlight. He pulled out his shades. ”Too bad. Well, what's your next step?”
”I think I'm going to derenovate derenovate that bas.e.m.e.nt.” that bas.e.m.e.nt.”
”You mean tear down the paneling to see what's behind?”
Lyle nodded. ”And tear up that concrete slab to see what's under it.”
”Who's under it, you mean.” under it, you mean.”
”Right. Who.”
”You'll let me know what you find?”
”Maybe.”
”Maybe?”
”Aren't you the guy who said he's the one who kicked this whole thing off?”
”Well...”
”Well then maybe you could lend a hand and find out firsthand. You up for that?”
Besides making life miserable for Eli Bellitto and his buddy Adrian Minkin, Jack had no pressing demands on his time for the next few days, but he was curious about something.
”Let's just say we find a child's skeleton under the slab. What then?”
”I call the cops, they bring in their forensics team, and maybe they catch the guy who did it. And then maybe the spook goes back to where it came from.”
”And maybe along the way the world hears about Ifasen and his dealings with the ghost of Tara Portman?”
Lyle nodded. ”That's a distinct possibility.”
Jack had the picture now. ”I guess I can give you a day or two of hard labor, but on one condition: If and when you go public, my name is never mentioned.”
”You mean Ifasen will have to face the spotlight alone?” Lyle's lips twisted into a wry smile. ”It won't be easy, but he'll handle it.” The smile faded. ”Be a cakewalk compared to some other things.”
”Like what?” Jack said, remembering how troubled Lyle had looked before they'd met with Kristadoulou. ”What happened at the house?”
”Tell you later.” He glanced around at the pa.s.sersby. ”Probably not a good idea for Ifasen to discuss it in public.”
”Okay. I guess I can wait. I'll head home and change and see you in the cellar. Give me an hour.”
”Great.” Lyle straightened as if trying to shrug off a burden. ”I'll pick up some picks and ripping bars.”
”I'll pick up some beer.”
Lyle smiled. ”Welcome to the demolition business.”
7.
”All right, Charles,” Reverend Sparks said as he dropped into the chair behind his battered desk.
The springs in the old chair gave out an agonized squeal under his weight. The desk seemed too small for him. In fact the cluttered little office, with its sagging shelves loaded with books and magazines and scribbled drafts of sermons, its walls studded with yellow sticky notes, seemed too small for him as well.
He pointed to the rickety chair on Charlie's side of the desk. ”Sit. And tell me what you needed to see me about.”
Charlie sat and folded his sweat-slick hands in front of him. ”Need advice, Rev.”
Did he ever. He and Lyle had had four sittings scheduled for the morning. Lyle started acting throwed off after the first one, then getting further and further off the hinges with the next two, finally eighty-sixin' the fourth and all the others they'd booked for the rest of the afternoon and night. He wouldn't say why, but looked spooked.
Spooked... yeah, you got that right. House spooked. Charlie was spooked too.