Passage by Night - Jack Higgins [16]
Manning lit a cigarette and grinned. 'Afraid she might put a hex on me?'
There was sweat on the man's face and all at once, his eyes seemed very white. 'They say she can whistle up the duppies, Harry. They say she can bring the drowned men out of the sea.'
Manning was aware of a sudden irrational coldness as if somewhere, someone had walked on his grave, but he managed to force a smile.
'Let's go and find out.'
It was almost dark when they reached Grant Street. The house was detached and surrounded by a six-foot board fence painted white. Manning opened the gate and they walked along a brick path and paused at the bottom of a flight of rickety wooden steps.
He turned to Seth. 'You stay here and keep out of sight. If you hear a disturbance, kick in the door.'
Seth merged into the darkness without a word and Manning mounted the steps and knocked on the door. After a few moments, steps shuffled along the corridor and he could see a shadowy figure through the cracked frosted glass window. The door clicked open and an old woman looked out at him.
A scarlet bandana was tied around her head like a turban and her wrinkled skin was the colour of leather, long jet earrings hanging on either side of her face. The eyes were the most disturbing feature, absolutely black and yet contained a weird luminosity.
'Mother Diamond?'
'What do you want?' Her voice was strangely lifeless.
'I wonder if you could spare me a few moments?'
'You wish to consult the stars?'
'That's right. I was told you could help me.'
She nodded at once. 'Come in.'
The hall was gloomy and filled with a smell of incense that caught at the back of the throat in a curiously unpleasant manner. She pulled back a heavy velvet drape and opened the door.
The room was sparsely furnished, the only light a single lamp on a small table. He took a chair and she sat opposite, several books at her elbow and a pad of blank paper in front of her.
'Give me the date of your birth, the place and time. The time is most important.'
He told her and looked over her shoulder at the shadows crawling out of the corners, pushing against the light thrown out by the lamp. He wondered what his next move should be, but decided to wait till she gave him an opening.
She consulted several books, making notes on the pad, and finally nodded. 'Do you believe in the powers of the supernatural?'
'Would I be here if I didn't?'
'You are ambidextrous?'
For the moment, he was completely thrown off balance. 'How the hell did you know that?'
'Many born under the sign of Scorpio are.' She looked at the notes again. 'Life for you is often a battleground.'
'You can say that again.'
She nodded calmly. 'Mars, Sun and Neptune in conjunction on the mid-heaven will result in a certain sharpness of tongue and temper. You are often your own worst enemy.'
In spite of himself, Manning laughed harshly. 'I think that's bloody marvellous.'
The old woman looked across, eyes glinting in the lamplight. 'You find something humorous in what I say?'
'Something like that.'
She carefully piled her books on top of each other. 'Who did you say recommended you to come here?'
'I didn't,' Manning said, 'But since you ask, it was Juan Garcia.'
Her eyes regarded him unwinkingly. 'I know no one of that name.'
'Well, how about taking a look into your crystal ball? You might see him skulking around in some dark corner.'
'I think you'd better leave,' she said calmly.
'You're making a big mistake.'
A slight breeze touched the back of his neck and the door creaked. A voice said, 'It is you who has made the mistake, Mr Manning.'
The man who had advanced into the lamplight was wearing a white linen suit and his face was shaded by a Panama hat. The eyes were cold and hard and as full of menace as the .38 automatic in his right hand.
'Surprise, surprise,' Manning said softly. 'Juan Garcia, I presume?'
The other shook his head and for a brief moment, his teeth gleamed whitely. 'I'm afraid not, senor. My name is Pelota. At this very moment, poor Juan is on the high seas bound for Cuba and what