Dead In The Water (Rebecca Schwartz Mystery #4) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series) (24 page)

He sure was talking peculiarly—like a schoolteacher. His mother had been one; maybe he’d picked up the habit from her.

Suddenly I remembered the story Ricky had told me and realized what the déjà vu was about. Like mother like son, I guessed. She sounded bonkers, and Warren certainly was.

Before we left, he filled up the bathtub. And then he hunted up a plastic trash bag to bring along.

Mercifully, he untied Libby’s feet before we left, and slung one of Esperanza’s jackets around her shoulders, hiding her tied hands. Julio, too, was given a shoulder-draped jacket. I was untied for driving.

* * *

The aquarium seemed nearly deserted, though it’s never completely so, I’d learned the other night. There are always security guards at the very least, and lots of people work late. This part of the operation would depend partly on luck—whether ours or Warren’s remained to be seen.

We slipped in the back door and behind the scenes to aquarist territory. “To the dive lockers,” said Warren.

He opened Julio’s locker, tossed his equipment on the floor, and had me pick it up. Then we all took the elevator to the roof. The lights weren’t on.

“Could I ask what this is all about?” asked Julio. “Because I’ve got the feeling you’re going to send me down there, and I can’t go in the dark.”

“Yeah, you can ask. Suit up while I tell you. Rebecca, untie him.”

Warren kept the gun trained on him, not letting his eyes stray for a millisecond, as Julio undressed and put on the wet suit. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me—this was my first look at a very fine body I wanted to live to see naked again.

“You know what the Sheffield Pearl is?”

“Yes.” Julio stiffened.

“Ever seen it?”

“I can’t remember; I’ve seen so many pictures of it… .”

“Good enough. It’s down there. And you’re going to get it.”

“That’s what all the killing is about? That’s what you’re threatening us for right now? That ugly thing?”

“No,” said Warren. “That isn’t what it’s about at all. It’s just a loose end I have to tie up. We don’t want any loose ends, do we?”

Julio sighed. “Could we have some light, please?”

“I’m afraid not. That wouldn’t be keeping a very low profile. But Libby and Rebecca have seen it. They’ll tell you where it is.”

Libby said, “Near the round window. You know that little sandy place? Near the back.”

“Can you manage okay?” I said.

“That area’s small. I can just rake it with my hands till I find it.” He spoke to Warren. “But it’s a long way down. You’ll have to give me plenty of time.”

“Just remember one thing. I’m up here with Rebecca, Libby, and a gun. And these.” He displayed the nail scissors.

With a soft splash, Julio went over the side. Warren took us into the rooftop lab to wait. I knew he’d taken us inside because he didn’t want to encounter a guard. He could explain our presence with no trouble—after all, he was acting head of the institution. But I knew he didn’t want to be the last person seen with us.

He drummed his fingers. “Rebecca, you got any more cough drops?”

I shook my head.

“I’m starving.” He started to range about the lab, opening cabinets. I feared for the baby invertebrates—he might decide to eat them raw. But he didn’t lapse into such lack of professionalism, though he seemed to have dropped his pedantic speech mode.

I was glad he’d found something to occupy his mind. With the sadistic streak he had, I was afraid he’d decide to pull Julio up too fast just to watch him get the bends. In fact, I was very much afraid of that.

I sat down and took Libby in my lap, an action Warren allowed, I surmised, because it occupied both of us and guaranteed neither would make sudden moves.

“Did you kill Sadie for the pearl?” I asked, more to keep him occupied than anything else.

“Of course not. Why would I care about the damned pearl?”

I could see it was going to be one of those conversations. Fortunately, Julio began to climb out of the tank, the creature from twenty thousand leagues, dark and alien in the moonlight.

Warren had me take the pearl and hand it over. He put Libby and me in front of him as Julio resumed his street clothes.

It had been a weird evening, but it got a lot weirder. Warren had Julio put water from the tank in the plastic bag we’d brought.

“Now,” he said, “Let’s get the puffers.”

Julio stared.

“Don’t just stand there, goddammit. Let’s go get the puffers.”

It still didn’t seem to compute. “We’re kidnapping the puffers?”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll hold them for ransom.”

So we all trooped to the third floor while Julio got a net and transferred the fish to the bag. I could grasp the theory, sort of like the goldfish you buy in Baggies, but puffers were weird pets.

When we’d put away the diving equipment, Warren retied Julio and forced him in the front seat again, but, wonder of wonders, he untied Libby. She was to have custody of the fish. Julio, who was supposed to be such a pal of marine animals, had been all for putting them in the trunk, but Warren was afraid they might get bruised. He was awfully particular about the damn puffers—and I had a bad feeling I knew what he wanted them for.

Warren said, “Rebecca, find a supermarket, will you? I could eat a Doberman.” The guy was almost comical if you didn’t know how dangerous he was.

All we could find was a 7-Eleven, but Warren went for it (after first making sure Julio already had the ingredients for
huevos rancheros
).

He took me with him, the gun out of sight in a coat pocket, digging into my hip. He’d issued one of his standard warnings. “Julio and Libby, leave the car or make a disturbance and your friend’s a former lawyer. Got it?”

We got two six-packs of Pepsi, chips, bean dip, jalapeno-and-cheese dip, cookies, and salsa in a jar, Warren complaining like a kid that they didn’t have the fresh kind.

As we paid, I looked out at the two in the car, hoping for signs of activity. Surely they could see what I could see:
This is it
,
guys
.
Probably our only chance
.
He’s never going to kill me in here
.
The worst he’ll do is hold me hostage
.
Lean on the horn
,
goddammit
!
Get us out of this
!

But you can’t get good help anymore.

Libby waved. Just like Mom and Uncle Warren had popped in for some TV snacks instead of our last meal on the planet. Waved! I still can’t get over it.

After we dumped the puffers in the bathtub, Warren said, “Now. Food. Rebecca, get in that kitchen.” He started murdering chips and Pepsis the instant we were in there, but he had great concentration. He could eat half a bag of chips while tracking me like a man in love. The opportunity I needed didn’t materialize.

“I really can’t tell you what a marvelous night it’s been. What a splendid four days, for that matter. Do you know you three have really made my day?”

I said, “Why’d you kill Sadie, Warren? You said it had nothing to do with the pearl—so what was it?”

He lifted a know-it-all finger. “Ah-ah, young lady, I said no such thing. It had everything to do with the pearl. Just not the usual thing.”

“So are you going to tell us or not?” He was having such a great time I already knew the answer. Even if we didn’t want to know, we were going to.

But before he could get up a head of steam, I heard a funny clicking sound—outside, I thought; running steps. Then the familiar household sound of metal against metal—a key in the door. It could be only one person.

“Run!” yelled Julio. “Esperanza, run for your life!” Warren crossed the living room in three or four steps, jerked the door open. Esperanza must have frozen. Warren pulled her inside, fat fingers circling her upper arm, gun pointed at her head. I could hear a car driving away.

Julio started to coo the usual dumb things: “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s going to be—”

I could have cried.

“Shut up, Julio.” Warren slapped Esperanza’s face. “You’ve been a bad boy.”

I flew out of the kitchen like a mother wolf, flung myself at Warren. Warren squeezed Esperanza’s arm so tight it turned red as I watched. He leveled the gun at the bridge of my nose. Esperanza screamed.

“Everybody cool out!”

He meant chill out; I prayed she wouldn’t correct him.

She didn’t. Everyone froze.

Finally I said, “Esperanza sometimes faints. Let her go, please.”

He flung her into my arms. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

I stroked her hair. How did you explain madness to a ten-year-old? “Why are you home?” I said.

“Amber got sick. We went to the emergency room and then Ricky dropped me off.” She was still whispering.

Julio kept quiet, knowing, I suppose, that anything he said would be used against his daughter.

“Okay, okay, we’re going to make a few changes. First, we tie up Esperanza.” Warren tied her to a chair with some clothesline he must have found on his search. “And now, we hogtie Julio.” He had me do it while he held the gun to Esperanza’s temple. To make double sure, he didn’t let me untie the wrists and ankles. I had to do the hog-tying above the other bonds, which had now turned Julio’s skin an ugly purple.

Pretty soon it became clear why he was doing it—he was going to amuse himself with the rest of us, and he was afraid of Julio, even tied up.

That meant he wasn’t all that much afraid of me, which might be good. I had a secret weapon now. When Julio yelled and Warren left me alone, I’d worked a Seconal into my palm, pulled the capsule apart, dumped the contents into the salsa for the
huevos
, and tucked the empty capsule halves back into my sleeve. With luck, the salsa would mask the taste.

My hands shook as I built the
huevos rancheros
. The eggs had finished poaching during the excitement, a good thing considering Warren’s eagerness. It was all I could do to keep him at bay while I put together my version of the dish: the eggs served on a tortilla smeared with refried beans—in this case, bean dip—the whole thing topped with lots of salsa and tomatoes, then sour cream and cheese.

Warren retied me and ate standing at the counter.

“Excellent,” he said. “You pass.”

I nodded, humoring him.

“I think you’re good enough to cook for the whole family. You hungry, Julio?”

Julio shook his head.

“I bet you kids are. And Rebecca’s going to make you a lovely bouillabaisse, aren’t you, Rebecca? Fugu bouillabaisse.”

Fugu, of course, is another name for puffer.

“They say it makes great sashimi. If you eat only that, you’re relatively safe. But you’re going to eat everything—the liver, the skin, the intestines—all the yummy parts absolutely saturated in the world’s deadliest nerve toxin.”

The last of the
huevos
were disappearing. The man ate like most people breathe.

“We’ll all watch our Rebecca fillet the fish, and then chop the onions and garlic—cooking for the people she loves, just a perfect little … What’s the Yiddish word, Rebecca?”

"
Balabosta
.”

“And then we’ll smell those delightful smells while it’s cooking. Probably we won’t smell them for long, though, because I bet you all four shit your pants thinking about what’s in store. There are quite a few terrifying symptoms, but in the end, the toxin works by paralysis. You’ll just freeze up, bit by bit, till you can’t move. They say the victims retain acute mental consciousness till the last moment—no coma, no nothing.” He yawned. “Coffee time.”

I hoped that meant what I thought it did. He went into the kitchen, banged things around, and finally yelled, “Esperanza, can you operate this goddamn coffee machine?”

He couldn’t see us. I shook my head at her. “No!” she shouted.

“I can!” I sang out sweetly. To the kids I whispered, “Make noise in about ten minutes.”

He untied me and we went through the watching routine once more. I had to search for the coffee and then struggle to figure out the damned coffeemaker, but he barely noticed, he was so self-absorbed; back in lecture mode.

“The whole thing—the thing with Sadie—was a misunderstanding, you see. But a fortuitous error, it turned out. It changed everything.”

“Right. Now you’re a homicidal maniac.” I palmed another capsule.

“Homicidal, temporarily. But a maniac, no. Ever since that first delicious moment—the moment that opened up the world—everything I’ve done has been supremely rational. Completely logical. Absolutely necessary. And of course, I’ll stop killing after tonight. I
would
be crazy to think I could keep on getting away with it.”

He scraped up a glob of salsa with a chip, stashed it, chewed loudly. I absolutely couldn’t believe it. The fat slob was eating again. “It’s interesting how these things happen. It’s like it was meant to be, like a portal opens and says, ‘Warren, step through me.’ The portal was Sadie in this case, of course.”

There was a nasty thump from the living room. Not looking up, I dumped powder into coffee, tucked away the capsule halves.

Then I pivoted in the direction of the thump, just in time to see Warren turning back, remembering me too late. He grabbed me and jerked my hair so hard I screamed.

Over his shoulder I saw what Esperanza had done—tipped the chair to which Warren had tied her. Now on the floor, chair and all, she was working at Julio’s bonds with her teeth.

“Naughty girl,” said Warren. “You don’t know how I punish naughty girls, do you? I hurt somebody else.” He gave my hair another yank.

She moved her teeth off the clothesline, but kept her head on Julio’s ankles, that being the closest she could get to a hug, I supposed.

“It’s going to be Rebecca this time—now, what do you think I should do with her?”

No answer.

“Rebecca! Pick that chair up.”

I obeyed, righting Esperanza, giving her a little squeeze of thanks for what she’d done.

“Think about it, Esperanza.” And he took me back to finish making the coffee.