The Laughing Corpse - Laurell K. Hamilton [103]
“There are other ways to get her,” he said.
“If the law fails us, feel free to use voodoo. Just don’t tell me about it.”
He looked amused, puzzled. “No outrage about me using black magic?”
“The woman tried to kill me once. I don’t think she’ll give up.”
“You survived an attack by the Señora?” he asked. He looked amazed.
I didn’t like him looking amazed. “I can take care of myself, Mr. Burke.”
“I don’t doubt that, Ms. Blake.” He smiled. “I’ve bruised your ego. You don’t like me being so surprised, do you?”
“Keep your observations to yourself, okay?”
“If you have survived a head-on confrontation with what Dominga Salvador would send to you, then I should have believed some of the stories I heard of you. The Executioner, the animator who can raise anything no matter how old.”
“I don’t know about that last, but I’m just trying to stay alive, that’s all.”
“If Dominga Salvador wants you dead that won’t be easy.”
“Damn near impossible,” I said.
“So let us get her first,” he said.
“Legally,” I said.
“Anita, you are being naive.”
“The offer to come on a raid of her house still stands.”
“You’re sure you can arrange that?”
“I think so.”
His eyes had a sort of dark light to them, a sparkling blackness. He smiled, tight-lipped, and very unpleasant, as if he were contemplating tortures for one Dominga Salvador. The private vision seemed to fill him with pleasure.
The skin between my shoulders crept with that look. I hoped John never turned those dark eyes on me. Something told me he would make a bad enemy. Almost as bad as Dominga Salvador. Almost as bad, but not quite.
31
DOMINGA SALVADOR SAT in her living room smiling. The little girl who had been riding her tricycle on my last trip here was sitting in her grandma’s lap. The child was as relaxed and languorous as a kitten. Two older boys sat at Dominga’s feet. She was the picture of maternal bliss. I wanted to throw up.
Of course, just because she was the most dangerous voodoo priestess I’d ever met didn’t mean she wasn’t a grandma, too. People are seldom just one thing. Hitler liked dogs.
“You are more than welcome to search, Sergeant. My house is your house,” she said in a candy-coated voice that had already offered us lemonade, or perhaps iced tea.
John Burke and I were standing to one side, letting the police do their job. Dominga was making them feel silly for their suspicions. Just a nice old lady. Right.
Antonio and Enzo were also standing to one side. They didn’t quite fit this picture of grandmotherly bliss, but evidently she wanted witnesses. Or maybe a shootout wasn’t out of the question.
“Mrs. Salvador, do you understand the possible implications of this search?” Dolph said.
“There are no implications because I have nothing to hide.” She smiled sweetly. Damn her.
“Anita, Mr. Burke,” Dolph said.
We came forward like props in a magic show. Which wasn’t far off. A tall police officer had the video camera ready to go.
“I believe you know Ms. Blake,” Dolph said.
“I have had the pleasure,” Dominga said.
Butter wouldn’t have melted in her lying mouth.
“This is John Burke.”
Her eyes widened just a little. The first slip in her perfect camouflage. Had she heard of John Burke? Did the name worry her? I hoped so.
“So glad to meet you at last, Mr. John Burke,” she said finally.
“Always good to meet another practitioner of the art,” he said.
She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment. At least she wasn’t trying to pretend complete innocence. She admitted to being a voodoo priestess. Progress.
It was obscene for the godmother of voodoo to be playing the innocent.
“Do it, Anita,” Dolph said. No preliminaries, no sense of theater, just do it. That was Dolph for you.
I took a plastic bag out of my pocket. Dominga looked puzzled. I pulled out the gris-gris. Her face became very still, like a mask. A funny little smile curled her lips. “What is that?”
“Come now, Señora,” John said, “do not play the fool. You know very well what it is.”
“I know that it is a charm of some kind, of course. But do the police now threaten old women with