CHAPTER 8
It was early evening when we headed for the residence of Gloria Stephania. An event for which I held curiosity and dread in equal amounts, since part of me fully expected the woman to be flying around on a broomstick, cackling as she threw flaming jack o’ lanterns at passing children.
“So, the files we saw in Selena’s hotel room,” Benny spoke up, his Enforcer medals glowing in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
“Yes. News?”
He nodded. “Put in a request for the files. They turned up missing, of course.”
“So she stole them. How?”
“That’s the really interesting part. They weren’t stolen, per se. They were checked out three weeks ago and never returned. CCTV footage showed a woman walk right into the D.O.M., passed dozens of Enforcers, straight into the Records Department and asked for the files in person. No one even looked in her direction, despite the fact she was wearing a hood. And, at one point, she even cut right between two people in mid-conversation. The level of confidence, concentration, raw talent and luck were unbelievable. I swear, Jet, if you ever meet someone who tells you magic isn’t an art form, they should see this shit. It’s called Ghosting.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Illegal, of course, and most of the few hundred odd people capable of doing it are in various Magical Detention Centres around the world. Those on file, anyway. Sure there are any number of people out there who never registered the ability.”
“So Selena can perform this Ghosting business?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Wouldn’t think she’s capable of something like that. Not exactly in her M.O. Wanna hear the really cool part about the whole thing though? The person signed the log book with the words ‘Ignore me.’”
“That is cute.”
“Right?” he agreed, grinning radiantly, “I do appreciate a person with a sense of humour.”
We arrived outside the residence of Gloria Stephania just after 7PM. The house was of a surprisingly modest size, located in a neat but not particularly grand neighbourhood. Upon entering the gate, however, I saw indications of what I had expected.
The small garden virtually glowed with healthy green grass and exploded with fireworks displays of flowering plants. A little pond, glittering in the faded sun, housed a family of fish so fat I feared they might drown under their own weight. The house itself could have been painted the previous day, and even the green wall-climbing vines were immaculate.
Benny turned to me before pressing the brass doorbell.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“Alright. Let me do the talking.”
The doorbell made a pleasant ‘ding dong’ and a few moments later the varnished wooden door swung open. Before us stood Gloria Stephania. Part of me was disappointed.
She had obviously been beautiful once upon a time, but now as she approached her seventies that beauty had waned. Her desperate attempts to cling to it, however, were not serving her well, and even on a woman thirty years younger the excess of makeup and jewellery would have seemed excessive.
“Hello, gentlemen,” she said, her accent mirroring Selena’s, “Please, enter.”
We stepped inside.
The interior of the house sparkled. There was not a single surface or decorative item that did not seem to have been polished moments ago. And, considering the way the woman behaved in the presence of guests, it might well have been. Her every action seemed rehearsed.
“Right this way,” she said, gesturing into a living area.
We followed and sank into a broad leather coach. Around us the room seemed annoyed we were daring to sully its flawlessness with our presence.
“So, gentlemen,” she said, slipping into the single couch across from us, “how may I help?”
“Thank you for seeing us,” Benny began, “you have a lovely home, Mrs. Stephania.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“We’re here about your daughter, Selena.”
“So you’ve said on the phone. I’m ready to assist in any way I can.”
“Thank you. Do you perhaps have any idea where she might be at the present time?”
At this she paused, studying us. I noted with very little surprise that her sitting posture also mirrored Selena’s; perfect.
“I’m not sure,” she answered at length, “But I find it interesting that this is the focus of your attention.”
“Why is that?”
“I thought perhaps you might be extending more effort into the possibility she has been falsely convicted.”
Benny managed to remain expressionless. “I beg your pardon?”
“She filed for an appeal, did she not?”
“Yes, ma’am. And that appeal was considered and denied. What reasons do you have for questioning the validity of this denial?”
“A mother’s intuition. I believe Selena escaped custody in an attempt to pursue her own case.”
“That may be so, ma’am,” Benny replied, “But it is not our job to question convictions or denials.”
“What is your job, Enforcer?”
“Finding your daughter. And it is rather urgent, since she is a dangerous woman that needs to be brought into custody as soon as possible.’
“Whose job is it to ensure that convictions are accurate?” Her expression remained neutral.
“Not ours. If you would like more specific information please contact the Department Of Magic. Now, please ma’am, any information on her whereabouts would be appreciated.”
“I told you, I’m not sure. And frankly my confidence in the D.O.M is not first-rate at this time. To whom can I speak about a second appeal on her conviction?”
Benny looked at me and nodded. His cool exterior had finally melted. I sighed and returned the nod.
“When last did you see Selena?” I asked her.
Her gaze turned to me and we made eye contact. Benny stood and began his sweep of the house…
“Where is Selena?” I whispered, “Where is Selena?”
The front door opened and Selena, early twenties, stepped through. Her motions reflected a concerted effort to be silent. But it was in vain.
“Where have you been,” a voice snapped out to greet her.
I turned and saw a younger Gloria seated in a chair, arms crossed and mouth set into a fierce pout.
Crossed signals; too far back by rather a large margin. I leaned to whisper into Gloria’s ear but hesitated. Something made me stick around, the obvious culprit being a flutter that had again found its way into my stomach.
“Mami,” Selena yelped in response.
“Where have you been,” Gloria repeated.
“I told you, I went to a movie with Brandi.”
“Then you’ll be interested to know Brandi called earlier looking for you. You’re lying to me, Selena.”
Selena’s eyes fell to the floor. She was suddenly barely out of high school.
“Where were you?” Gloria snarled.
“I was with Carlos,” Selena spat, her eyes turning defiant.
Gloria gaped, but only for a moment. Her expression transformed quickly into one of disappointment. “Him?!”
“Yes, him.”
“Why, Selena?” It was a genuine question. “What are you doing with that… man?”
“I like him, mami. He helps me study.”
“He is not what you need, Selena!”
“Then tell me, what do I need, mami?”
There was a long pause as mother stared at daughter. I watched on, knowing I should be behaving professionally, moving forward and looking elsewhere, but the drama had me transfixed. I wanted to know.
Suddenly, shifting the beat of the conversation, Gloria reached beside the chair and took an item from a paper bag. She placed it on the table. Selena’s eyes expanded to twice their size and her cheeks flushed.
“What is this?” Gloria asked evenly.
“You went into my room?!” Selena gasped.
“Is
this how Carlos helps you study?”
I frowned at the object. Finally its intended use dawned on me. Ah. Not much of a surprise, really.
I felt my own face flush and stepped forward, terrified that specifics might be shared. Part of me begged to stay.
“Where is Selena?” I whispered into Gloria’s ear, “When did you last speak with her?”
Colours mixed with colours and a new world blossomed.
“Where are you?” Gloria asked. It was not so much a question as a demand.
I turned and saw Gloria, back in her seventies, with a phone pressed to an ear. Even when not in company her sitting posture was faultless.
“Its better I don’t say,” Selena’s voice responded, “they will come looking for me.”
“I won’t tell them, Selena. Obviously.”
“They will not ask politely, mami.”
I sighed in frustration.
“I did none of those things, mami,” Selena said firmly.
“Of course not.” Gloria replied, “What will you do?”
“I need to get to one of the witnesses who testified against me. If I can prove to the Independent Office that even one of them was manipulated prior to the trial, the case will be thrown out.”
Gloria thought about this, face blank. “You are being silly, Selena,” she said, “You need to stop this nonsense and go to a Department of Magic. We will get you a good lawyer and file an appeal.”
The line went silent. I could envision Selena burning with frustration.
“I cannot, mami,” she replied at last, “They will interfere. I need to do this myself to ensure it is done properly.”
“Mrs Lorenzo told me she knows an exceptional lawyer,” Gloria continued, undeterred, “He is the brother of Juanita. You remember her? Such a strong family they have. He helped her with that licensing business and it went very smoothly. I’m sure we can get him, if I butter her up a bit.”
“Mami…” The frustration was growing.
“I’ll give her a call after we hang up. I bet it will take no time at all.”
“Mami!” The word exploded like a gunshot and Gloria jumped. “I told you they will interfere! Whomever the lawyer, it will not help! Do you understand? They can get to the lawyer, they can get to the witnesses, they will manipulate the case against me a second time!”
Gloria looked stunned. “You’re being very abrasive, Selena. I’m only trying to help.”
“I know, mami, but you don’t understand the situation. Let me do this the right way!”
“I understand…”
“You don’t! Please, just let me do what I need to do.”
“You should get to a Department of Magic, Selena, the longer you evade them the worse it will be…”
“I’ll call again, mami. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The line went dead.
Gloria sat and stared into space, body motionless and immaculate house silent around her. Sitting as she was, finely groomed to the point of absurdity despite my guess no visitors were expected, a person could almost mistake her for part of the furniture. Some life size doll left to gather dust in a ‘house museum’.
Finally she stood, a graceful motion, and before heading into the kitchen wiped a tear from the corner of an eye.
I withdrew and sat back, world sliding back into place. Gloria, present day, was staring at me with empty eyes.
“You get something?” Benny called from the kitchen.
“Just a second,” I called back. I again focused on Gloria. “You had two guests this evening, didn’t you Mrs. Stephania?”
“Yes.”
“Two more Enforcers, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“You thought it strange two Enforcers would come calling at such a time, after office hours. Didn’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“That’s why they didn’t show up, isn’t it? Just a hoax.”
“I suppose so.’
“But you didn’t mind. You wanted a nice evening by yourself anyway, didn’t you? Some time to relax.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Thank you for your help, Mrs Stephania. When the door closes behind us, it’ll be as if we were never here.”
She blinked. “It’s a pleasure, of course.”
I looked up as Benny returned from the kitchen, riffling through a stack of papers. He shrugged. “Nothing. Few photos in her bedroom, nothing useful. You?”
“Yes. Selena called here recently.” I turned back to Gloria. “We’ll show ourselves out, ma’am.”
She smiled. “As you wish.”
I stood and we exited.
“It doesn’t matter how polite you are, you know,” Benny said as we climbed back into the car, “She won’t remember.”
“Just seems right.”
“Sure. So what did you find out?”
“Don’t know where she is. But I can tell you she’s going after the witnesses.”
He sighed as the car pulled back onto the road. “Yes, I figured as much. It’s the logical thing to do. But those witnesses are being monitored twenty-four hours a day by the D.O.M. Plus I have a contingency in place that will alert us if she contacts any of them. So, it’ll be her ass if she tries either way.” He paused and shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I still have trouble imagining Selena openly attacking law enforcement, at least as a first option.”
“Then what?”
“Not sure. Maybe there’s something I’m not seeing. But we’ll find out.”
“I guess so.”
I glanced out the window and noticed we were not heading home.
“So where next?”
“Jenny Buckland. Selena’s old assistant. Remember her?”