Polterheist(27)

"She still looks like a dog," I pointed out to Max. "That'll be a problem." We had managed to sneak her into the building via the staff entrance and back stairs, but she was bound to be noticed if Max took her exploring with him. And upon being noticed, she would be evicted, since dogs weren't permitted inside Fenster's.

"Never fear," said Max. "I anticipated this problem." With a flourish, he pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses and donned them.

I stared at him blankly for a moment, then I got it. "A blind elf?"

Max bobbed his head. "She's my reindeer guide!"

I nodded in acceptance of this, and I hedged our bets by pinning an index card to Nelli's jacket with the words "I'm Working" printed on it.

Last night, when explaining to Max and Lucky exactly what had been happening at Fenster's, I drew a map of the store for them, pinpointing the sites of the mystical phenomena or questionable incidents. They pulled that map out now and formed a plan of action.

"We should attempt to find an epicenter," said Max. "A specific spot where mystical activity or dark energy is focused. If we can do that, it might help us narrow down the precise nature of what we're facing."

I was unconvinced by Lucky's suggestion last night that the ghost of Constance Fenster was haunting the store. Solsticeland had been a pet project of hers, and Fenster & Co. had been her life's work. Although the Iron Matriarch sounded formidable enough to reach out from the grave if she chose, I was very skeptical that she would do so to sabotage her own creation.

As I told Max and Lucky, I was more inclined to go with Satsy's interpretation: whatever was here now, it hadn't dared to mess with Fenster's while Constance was still alive.

As we conferred now in the men's locker room, Max said, "The seeming randomness of the activity, combined with its violence, might suggest a poltergeist."

"That's a kind of ghost, right?" I said.

"Yes. The roots of the word are German, and it essentially means ‘noisy ghost.'"

"Well, I never met Constance," I said, "but having met two generations of her descendants, I'd say that ‘noisy' seems to be a family trait. So maybe she is our ghost."

"‘Noisy' is used in a more figurative sense here," said Max. "There may be rapping, tapping, knocking, and even human voices associated with a poltergeist-"

"Or laughter?" I asked. "That's what Satsy heard in the elevator. That and growling."

"Yes, these are also possibilities. But the key element is that a poltergeist is typically much more physical in its influence than a traditional spirit or ghost."

"Physical?" Lucky repeated. "As in trying to suffocate a young lady with the branches of a fake tree while knocking people around with the other branches?"

Max nodded. "Exactly. If we are dealing with a ghost or spirit-which may or may not be the case-then that sort of physical activity points directly to a poltergeist. Rather than revealing itself as a shadowy apparition, a poltergeist throws a plate at you, makes your radio explode, sends a wagon speeding down the street when there is no horse pulling it, and so on."

Max paused and frowned in thought before adding, "We should certainly proceed with caution. If we are facing a poltergeist, then the phenomena which Esther and Satsy experienced indicate an unusually powerful one."

"So the way the enchanted tree fought off a bunch of people while attacking me," I said. "That wouldn't be considered standard mojo for a poltergeist?"

"No, indeed. Poltergeists are usually just a nuisance. Occasionally, they're dangerous. But they rarely have the level of power and sustained control that characterizes the event in the Enchanted Forest-a locale which, obviously, we'll need to scrutinize thoroughly today, Lucky."

"If this is a poltergeist," I asked, "then how do we issue it an exit visa?"

"You mean invite it to leave?" Lucky asked. "Good question."

"Well, that can be complicated," said Max.

I sighed. "Of course."

"Hey, you knew it wouldn't be easy," Lucky said. "It never is."

"A poltergeist may operate according to a variety of parameters and patterns, but one of the interesting features of this particular type of entity is that it usually haunts a person, rather than a place."

I thought this over. "So the epicenter, in that case, would be someone rather than somewhere?"

"Precisely."

"Hey . . . Now that's interesting!" said Lucky. "Max, could the poltergeisted person be a criminal mastermind?"

I said, "You're thinking there's a link between the strange phenomena inside Fenster's and the heists?"

He nodded, making the bells on his elf cap jingle. "Think about it. Very smooth hits. No witnesses. The hijacked drivers can't give the cops any useful information."

"How do you know that?" I challenged.

"Because if the cops were getting any decent information at all, they'd have a lead on the robbers and leave the Gambellos alone, instead of continuing to frisk the family so thoroughly that I'm worried OCCB is going to tell the boss to bend over so they look up there, too." Lucky added gloomily, "Victor Gambello don't need this kind of stress at his age."

"Okay, so they're very smooth hits that leave no evidence trail," I said. "That doesn't really connect them-"

"And someone here at the store has supernatural mojo. Someone who really hates Fenster's, I'd say." Lucky paused before continuing, "I've thought about it, and what you said last night is right, kid. If she were still around, in a spiritual sense, old Connie wouldn't be causing trouble in Solsticeland or scaring Santa. No way." Lucky's bells jangled again as he shook his head. "The Gambellos got La Cosa Nostra. Our thing. And this company was La Cosa Sua. Her thing."

"Yes, I can see that." It seemed like a fitting description.

"She was a tough woman, old Connie Fenster. The cops think it was all their arrests and indictments that put a stop to the, uh, stuff that went on all those years ago, when the Gambellos decided to leave Fenster and Powell alone." Lucky snorted. "Nah. You know what it was?"

"What?" I asked, increasingly fascinated by Constance, despite feeling no regret that I never got to meet her.

"It was Connie. She put a stop to it," said Lucky. "She went to Don Victor Gambello herself, against the wishes of the Powells, and cut a deal with him. A tough deal, too. She was a real negotiator. That society widow went to the capo di tutti capi to do business, and she didn't go to him with her hat in her hand or begging for mercy. She went to him as an equal. And you what? He wound up treating her like one."

That must be why Helen Fenster-Thorpe, who believed the Gambellos were behind the hijackings, thought she could negotiate with the thieves. Because her mother had done so-successfully. I suspected, though, that Helen overrated her own abilities, whereas Constance Fenster had not.

"The boss has always said that Connie Fenster was the strongest, shrewdest, most ruthless person he ever met-and if she ever decided to get into our thing, then he'd retire and move to Florida." Lucky grinned. "I guess we're lucky she stuck to the retail world."

I recalled something else I'd heard during my accidental visit with the Fenster family yesterday. "Lucky, the deal that Constance made with your boss . . . What happened when she died?"

He shrugged. "It went the way of all flesh."

"When I met the Fensters yesterday and they were talking about this, it sounded to me like they think the Gambellos are hitting the trucks in order to pressure them into making another deal."

"The boss respected their mother," said Lucky. "So if he wanted to get the Fensters' attention, this sure ain't how he'd go about doing it."

"They don't seem to know that. Then again, I think Lopez nailed it when he said they're idiots." I added, "You can't tell anyone he said that."

"Who would I tell?" Lucky said, "Anyhow, to return to our current situation . . . It seems like these weird things happening here are probably caused by someone who hates Fenster's. And although the hijackings could be just a matter of business, maybe they're being pulled off by someone who hates Fenster's, too. They're doing a lot of damage, after all, right? So if there's an inside person involved in the hijackings . . ."

"Ah," said Max. "Yes, I see your point. The inside person might be the same individual connected to the mystical activities. However, a criminal mastermind is not the sort of personality typically associated with poltergeist phenomena."

"Too bad. Then we'd have a whole new field: polterheist phenomena." I enjoyed a little chuckle over this.

Lucky gave me a peculiar look before asking Max, "So what sort of person are we looking for then?"

"The afflicted individual is very often a troubled young person," said Max.

"Oh, I have a candidate," I said instantly.

"Ah." Lucky's bells jingled as he nodded. "The dead-looking girl."

"Pardon?" said Max.

I explained about Elspeth Fenster.

"Hmmm." Max stroked his beard. "Yes, she does sound like a viable candidate for affliction by a tormenting spirit." After a moment he added, "But we mustn't leap to conclusions. Lucky and I should launch our investigation. We have a big job ahead of us!"