Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [55]
I looked at Nelli. She wagged her tail.
I said to Lucky, “This is the book the dog found?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t say ‘dog’,” Max whispered, casting an anxious glance at Nelli.
“I’m impressed,” I admitted to Max. “I know you conjured her and all that, but I really thought she was just a dumb mutt.”
Nelli growled at me.
“I apologize,” I said quickly. “I think it’s the ears. Are you sure you don’t want to rethink that part of your look?”
The sudden chiming of bells indicated that someone was entering the shop.
“Dr. Zadok?” a male voice called. “Maximillian Zadok?”
“Yes?” Max rose from the table and went past the surrounding bookcases.
I shifted uncomfortably under Nelli’s wounded gaze. “It was just a suggestion. Forget I mentioned it.”
“You hurt her feelings,” Lucky said critically. “You should be more careful about what you say.”
“At least I haven’t whacked any of her mates,” I snapped.
Lucky grunted and glared at me.
“Federal Express,” said the stranger by the door.
“Ah! Excellent!” Max said.
I realized the package must be the delivery of books about doppelgängers that Max was expecting from Jerusalem. Remembering that conversation made me remember the cab ride, which made me remember my ruined evening—which made me remember that I’d left my wrap at the church. After talking to Lopez by phone outside St. Monica’s, I’d been so stunned that I’d forgotten all about it until after I got home.
So, while Max was opening his Federal Express package, I found a phone book and called St. Monica’s. I told the administrator who answered the phone that I had left an item of clothing in the crypt yesterday evening. She checked the church’s lost-and-found box but told me my wrap wasn’t there.
“It’s probably still in the crypt,” I said. “I’ll stop by the church for it when I get a chance. Or if you happen to find it before then, would you hold it for me?”
“Of course.”
“My name’s Esther Diamond,” I said. “Father Gabriel knows me.”
“I’ll tell him you called.”
As I hung up, Lucky eyed the large, ornate volumes Max had unpacked, and asked, “Them’s the German books you been waiting for?”
“This is marvelous!” Max said. “When I was young, it would have taken a year to borrow books from a colleague as far away as the Holy Land!”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Max,” I said.
Nelli sniffed the books with mild interest, then turned in a circle three times and lay down near Lucky.
I returned to the subject at hand. “So based on what Lucky and I have been reading, I think that what we met with last night was a bilocated apparition.”
“It says here,” Lucky added, referring to his book, “that this thing ‘cannot easily be distinguished from the real individual.’ ”
“Yes, that does sound like what we’re dealing with.” Max frowned thoughtfully as he nodded. “A form of bilocated apparitional doppelgängerism.”
“Are we still sure it’s doppelgängerism?” I asked. “I know that Charlie saw his doppelgangster and took it as a warning of imminent death, but—”
“So did Johnny,” said Lucky.
“What?” Max exclaimed.
Max and I gaped at Lucky. He looked pleased with the effect his statement had on us.
The old gangster said, “Johnny Be Good saw his own perfect double before he got whacked.”
11
I said, “Johnny saw his doppelgangster before he died?”
“Yep. That was one of the calls I made while you was reading and Max was downstairs. I talked to Johnny’s grieving widow.” Lucky rolled his eyes, and his ironic tone indicated that Mrs. Gambello wasn’t as heartbroken about her husband’s death as Johnny Be Good might have wished. “I just didn’t want to have to say this twice, so I was waiting for Max to come back upstairs.”
“Well?” I prodded.
“Johnny come home the other night, laughing and babbling about how he just seen a guy who looked exactly like himself. He was drunk off his rocker, like always, so his wife ignored him.”
“So he saw it?” I suddenly felt cold.
Lucky nodded. “The missus says that Johnny claimed the guy he saw was a dead ringer for himself. A perfect double. He told