Chapter 19
The next morning I awoke at my regular time of six-thirty. I made first breakfast consisting of coffee and cottage cheese, and sat down with my stock-trading program to see how the market was doing. As usual, I had the business channel at low volume on my office TV.
After second breakfast, around eleven, Rachel came to see me.
“I have some good news, Professor.”
“Tell me all about it.”
“The police called Charlene and told her that the prints on Beth’s murder weapon matched the prints of the body Caite found in the store, so they consider Beth’s murder to be solved.”
“Fantastic,” I said.
“They’re still puzzled by the body in the store. Although his prints aren’t in the system, they believe that he might be part of the Russian mafia.”
“We certainly have a large Russian community here in Oregon,” I said.
“The police said the Russian matchbook was one clue. The other clue was that they think he was killed using a Makarov semi-automatic pistol. The bullet they retrieved from his body was the right caliber and had markings consistent with that gun.”
“That’s good detective work on their part,” I said, “And good news for us.”
“They think,” Rachel continued, “That the stolen artifact must have been a valuable antique that the mob wanted. For some reason the dead guy in the store either fell out of favor with the mob, or they were upset that he committed a murder that might lead the police to them. Anyway, the police think he was executed and then dumped in the store to take the heat of the murder off of the mob.”
“That makes sense to me,” I said.
“They think that the mob must have picked the lock at the store, because there was no forced entry.”
“It sounds like the police have it all figured out,” I said.
“Like you said, Professor, it was some good detective work. There’s no possible way that the police could have known that magic was involved.
“Let’s go celebrate over lunch,” Rachel suggested. “I know it’s a little early, but I didn’t eat breakfast, and I’m hungry.”
I disregarded the fact that I had just finished second breakfast and said, “Sure. Why don’t we go in my car?”
“Sounds good to me, Professor. Want to go to the diner?”
“Great idea,” I said, and we drove over to Rachel’s favorite diner.
After we were served, I observed, “I must say that this ‘artifact’ case was certainly exciting.”
“You can say that again, Professor. We should call it ‘The Case of the Witch’s Artifact.’ Don’t you think?”
“That’s a great name for a case file. Do you name all your cases?”
“Sure. It helps me keep them straight.”
“You didn’t make any money on this one, though.”
“I know. Sometimes you just have to do what’s right even though you would normally charge a premium for something so dangerous. Besides, Caite’s partner was murdered, and they really loved each other. I’m envious of their relationship. Have you ever been married, Professor?”
“No. How about you?”
“I was married once, very briefly. I think I learned my lesson.”
“What lesson is that?”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage.”
“Maybe you just married the wrong guy.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Besides being younger than me, he was a mooch. He had no ambition, and monogamy wasn’t his thing.”
“Not every man is like that.”
“Don’t count on it,” Rachel said. “I don’t mean you, Professor, nothing personal.”
“Haven’t you ever met a man that you would like to spend the rest of your life with?”
“I’ve dated guys that I thought would be ‘Mr. Right,’ but they all turned out to be jerks.”
“They must have been jerks to let you get away.”
“You’re sweet, Professor.”
I thought that this conversation had just peaked, and this topic wouldn’t get any better, so I changed the subject.
“How did you like working on this ‘Crime of Magic’?” I asked.
“It was definitely a change of pace. Most private detective work can be boring. There’s lots of research and watching and interviewing lots of people trying to get a lead. The only thing I didn’t care for was almost getting killed.”
“I enjoyed it myself,” I said, “Except for the almost getting killed part. If anything like this comes up again, I would certainly like to work on it with you.”
“Believe me Professor, if anything like this comes up again, you’re the first person I’m going to call.”
“I’ve got your back,” I said.
About the Author
Richard L. King lives in the Portland, Oregon area with his long-time wife. You can contact him by sending email to:
[email protected].
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About the Sequel
The Witch’s Artifact is the first book in the Crimes of Magic series. The second book is titled: Crimes of Magic: The Wizard’s Sphere, and it is available now.
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