Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [59]
The front door of the shop opened, and we all turned to see Biko enter. He had an unusually long athletic bag slung over his back; I supposed his swords were in there.
“Finally!” his sister said. “Where have you been?”
He flipped over the standard placard that hung on the front door so that people approaching the shop would see a CLOSED sign in the window. Then he locked the door.
“What are you doing?” Puma demanded. “I’m not closed!”
“You are now,” Biko said, joining us all near the cash register. “We have to talk, and we definitely don’t want to be overheard.”
Studying the young man, Max said, “Something has happened, hasn’t it? Something that delayed you.”
Biko nodded. “A cop showed up at the foundation. He was coming downstairs when I was leaving. He’d been in Dr. Livingston’s office, talking to her. And he zeroed in on me as soon as he saw me. I think it was the swords that attracted his attention,” he said with a puzzled look. “Anyhow, he flashed his badge and asked a lot of questions. It took some time.”
“Oh, no.” I wiped a hand wearily across my face. “Was his name Lopez?”
“I didn’t catch his name,” Biko said. “But he did look Latino.”
“About six feet tall, slim, black hair, blue eyes?” I said. “Really good-looking?”
“Really tired looking,” Biko said. “Like he hadn’t been to bed. But I guess girls would call him good-looking. Anyhow, yeah. That’s him.” He frowned at me. “You know him?”
“Detective Connor Lopez,” I said with resignation, wishing I hadn’t gotten him involved in this. I’d really had no choice at the time, but now that we were talking about, oh, zombies and baka and bokors, I had a feeling that I was going to regret having called on him for help last night.
“Connor Lopez?” Jeff said. “Okay, who wants to go out on a limb and guess how he got blue eyes?”
Puma asked, “What did he want, Biko?”
With a sharp glance at me, Jeff added, “Yeah, why was the really good-looking cop asking questions at the foundation?”
Biko took a deep breath as his gaze swept our faces. “Darius Phelps’ grave has been vandalized, and his body is missing.”
11
I felt a combination of shock, revulsion, and doomed inevitably as I absorbed Biko’s statement. Then I asked, “Lopez told you this?”
“The cop? Yeah.”
“And what did you tell him?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
I said in surprise, “He didn’t ask about last night?”
“Oh, he asked me lots about last night,” said Biko. “I told him I was home in bed. And that my sister could back me up on that.”
“Biko!” his sister cried, her volume rising enough to make me wince. “You lied to a police detective?”
“Don’t give me a hard time, Puma.” Biko looked defensive. “I couldn’t exactly say, ‘I was out hunting the baka that ate my dog, officer,’ now could I?”
“Hmm.” Puma looked perturbed. “No, I suppose not.”
“What else did Lopez say?” I asked.
“He mostly asked me a lot of questions about Mr. Phelps.”
“What kind of questions?”
They turned out to be pretty much the same kind of questions that I had asked Catherine in her office. I assumed that Lopez had posed those question to her, too, before encountering Biko.
“So I just kept saying that I don’t know anything about Mr. Phelps’ death—which is true—and that I was at home and in bed last night.” Biko leaned against the counter and let his shoulders slump. “But I could tell he didn’t believe me about that part.”
“Man, you need to learn to lie better,” Jeff said critically.
“No, we must not blame young Biko if Detective Lopez was unconvinced by his answers,” said Max. “He is not an easy man to dissuade. And although he is pursuing an erroneous theory, I do not for a moment suppose he will cease to pursue it until he is satisfied that the matter is resolved.”
“What theory? What pursuit?” Jeff said. “How do you and Esther know this guy?”
“I propose,” said Max, “that we proceed with an orderly narrative of last night’s events, then move on to discussing relevant theories, avenues of attack, and possible solutions.”
“Good idea,” said Puma. “And since