“Something nagged at me. There was something that could lead me to the girl; I just had to remember it. Then it hit me — the wooden bracelet she wore. The initials carved inside the heart were E + A. How hard could it be to search service records for a soldier with the first initial E? His service records would have his next of kin, and she was staying with his family. I had a plan.
“I took Catch back East and began checking local draft boards. I told them I had been in Europe and a man whose first name began with E had saved my life and I wanted to find him. They always asked about divisions and stations and where the battle had taken place. I told them I had taken a shell fragment in the head and could remember nothing but the man’s first initial. No one believed me, of course, but they gave me what I asked for — out of pity, I think.
“Meanwhile, Catch kept taking his victims. I tried to point him toward thieves and grifters when I could, reasoning that if he must kill, at least I could protect the innocent.
“I haunted libraries, looking for the oldest books on magic and demonology I could find. Perhaps somewhere I could find an incantation to send the demon back. I performed hundreds of rituals — drawing pentagrams, collecting bizarre talismans, and putting myself through all sorts of physical rigors and diets that were supposed to purify the sorcerer so the magic would work. After repeated failures, I realized that the volumes of magic were nothing more than the work of medieval snake-oil salesmen. They always added the purity of the sorcerer as a condition so they would have an excuse for their customers when the magic did not work.
“During this same time I was still looking for a priest who would perform an exorcism. In Baltimore I finally found one who believed my story. He agreed to perform an exorcism. For his protection, we arranged to have him stand on a balcony while Catch and I remained in the street below. Catch laughed himself silly through the entire ritual, and when it was over, he broke into the building and ate the priest. I knew then that finding the girl was my only hope.
“Catch and I kept moving, never staying in one place longer than two or three days. Fortunately there were no computers in those days that might have tracked the disappearances of Catch’s victims. In each town I collected a list of veterans, then ran leads to the ground by knocking on doors and questioning the families. I’ve been doing that for over seventy years. Yesterday I think I found the man I was looking for. As it turned out, E was his middle initial. His name is J. Effrom Elliot. I thought my luck had finally turned. I mean the fact that the man is still alive is pretty lucky in itself. I thought that I might have to trace the candlesticks through surviving relatives, hoping that someone remembered them, perhaps had kept them as an heirloom.
“I thought it was all over, but now Catch is out of control and you are keeping me from stopping him forever.”
27
AUGUSTUS
Augustus Brine lit his pipe and played back the details of Travis’s story in his mind. He had finished the bottle of wine, but if anything, it had brought clarity to his thoughts by washing away the adrenaline from the morning’s adventure.
“There was a time, Travis, that if someone had told me a story like that, I would have called the mental-health people to come and pick him up, but in the last twenty-four hours reality has been riding the dragon’s back, and I’m just trying to hang on myself.”
“Meaning what?” Travis asked.
“Meaning I believe you.” Brine rose from the chair and began untying the ropes that bound Travis.
There was a scuffling behind them and Brine turned to see Gian Hen Gian coming through the living room wearing a flowered towel around his waist and another around his head. Brine thought he looked like a prune in a Carmen Miranda costume.
“I am refreshed and ready for the torture, Augustus Brine.” The Djinn stopped when he saw Brine untying the demonkeeper. “So, will we hang the beast from a tall building by his heels until he talks?”
“Lighten up, King,” Brine said.
Travis flexed his arms to get the blood flowing. “Who is that?” he asked.
“That,” Brine said, “is Gian Hen Gian, king of the Djinn.”
“As in genie?”
“Correct,” Brine said.
“I don’t believe it.”
“You are not in a position to be incredulous toward the existence of supernatural beings, Travis. Besides, the Djinn was the one who told me how to find you. He knew Catch twenty-five centuries before you were born.”
Gian Hen Gian stepped forward and shook a knotted brown finger in Travis’s face. “Tell us where the Seal of Solomon is hidden or we will have your genitals in a nine-speed reverse action blender with a five-year guarantee before you can say shazam!”
Brine raised an eyebrow toward the Djinn. “You found the Sears catalog in the bathroom.”
The Djinn nodded. “It is filled with many fine instruments of torture.”
“There won’t be any need for that. Travis is trying to find the seal so he can send the demon back.”
“I told you,” Travis said, “I’ve never seen the Seal of Solomon. It’s a myth. I read about it a hundred times in books of magic, but it was always described differently. I think they made it up in the Middle Ages to sell books of magic.”
The Djinn hissed at Travis and there was a wisp of blue damask in the air. “You lie! You could not call up Catch without the seal.”
Brine raised a hand to the Djinn to quiet him. “Travis found the invocation for calling up the demon in a candlestick. He never saw the seal, but I believe it was concealed in the candlestick where he could not see it. Gian Hen Gian, have you ever seen the Seal of Solomon? Would it be possible to conceal it in a candlestick?”
“It was a silver scepter in Solomon’s time,” the Djinn said. “I suppose it could have been made into a candlestick.”
“Well, Travis thinks that the invocation for sending the demon back is concealed in the candlestick he didn’t open. I’d guess that anyone who had that knowledge and the Seal of Solomon would also have an invocation for giving you your power. In fact, I’d bet my life on it.”
“It is possible, but it is also possible that the dark one is misdirecting you.”
“I don’t think so,” Brine said. “I don’t think he wanted to be involved in this any more than I did. In seventy years he’s never figured out that it’s his will that controls Catch.”
“The dark one is retarded, then!”
“Hey!” Travis said.
“Enough!” Brine said. “We have things to do. Gian Hen Gian, go get dressed.”
The Djinn left the room without protest and Brine turned again to Travis. “I think you found the woman you’ve been looking for,” he said. “Amanda and Effrom Elliot were married right after he returned from World War One. They get their picture in the local paper every year on their anniversary — you know, under a caption that reads, ‘And they said it wouldn’t last.’ As soon as the king is ready we’ll go over there and see if we can get the candlesticks — if she still has them. I need your word that I can trust you not to try to escape.”
“You have it,” Travis said. “But I think we should go back to Jenny’s house — be ready when Catch returns.”
Brine said, “I want you to try to put Jenny out of your mind, Travis. That’s the only way you’ll regain control of the demon. But first, there’s something you ought to know about her.”
“I know — she’s married.”
“No. She’s Amanda’s granddaughter.”
28
EFFROM
Never having died before, Effrom was confused about how he should go about it. It didn’t seem fair that a man his age should have to adapt to new and difficult situations. But life was seldom fair, and it was probably safe to assume that death wasn’t fair either. This wasn’t the first time he had been tempted to firmly demand to speak to the person in charge. It had never worked at the post office, the DMV, or return counters at department stores. Perhaps it would work here.
But where was here?
He heard voices; that was a good sign. It didn’t seem uncomfortably warm — a good sign. He sniffed the air — no sulfur fumes (brimstone, the Bible called it); that was a good sign. Perhaps he had done all right. He did a quick inventory of his life: good father, good husband, responsible if not dedicated worker. Okay, so he cheated at cards at the VFW, but eternity seemed like an awfully long sentence for shuffling aces to the bottom of the deck.
He opened his eyes.
He had always imagined heaven to be bigger and brighter. This looked like the inside of a cabin. Then he spotted the woman. She was dressed in an iridescent purple body stocking. Her raven-black hair hung to her waist. Heaven? Effrom thought.
She was talking on the phone. They have phones in heaven? Why not?
He tried to sit up and found that he was tied to the bed. Why was that? Hell?
“Well, which is it?” he demanded.
The woman covered the receiver with her hand and turned to him. “Say something so your wife will know you’re okay,” she said.
“I’m not okay. I’m dead and I don’t know where I am.”