"The Whispering Skull"
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dochermes"The Whispering Skull"
A Trom Girl Mystery
12/13/2006
I.
She shot past the strip mall they were looking for, and it took ten minutes to turn left at the next intersection into a parking lot and come out to circle back again. Megan Salenger finally pulled her red Jeep Cherokee into the strip mall and parked it, put it in gear and turned the engine off and then let out a long exasperated breath. "I do not like Paramus," she said to Archie. "I do not intend to come back here."
In the passenger seat, his familiar bulk looming up to almost fill the space, Archie McAllister tried not to grin. "Well, honey, it's only two weeks before Christmas. You have to expect traffic to be crazy."
The Trom Girl visibly relaxed as her shoulders lowered and she sighed. At twenty-seven, Megan appeared considerably younger. Her small frame and shag of tousled black hair over an inquisitive face combined to make her look like a teenager. On this gloomy overcast day, she was wearing the snug waist-length KDF field jacket rather than a winter coat because it was so well insulated that it would keep her more comfortable. "I suppose I should realize that," she said with resignation. "I've experienced it before."
A foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than his partner, Archie peered out his window at the strip mall. There was a frozen yogurt place, a nail salon, and a pet supply store. At the end of the row of buildings, a wide dark-tinted window read PSYCHIC READINGS - WALK-INS WELCOME in red script and beneath that in smaller letters, ENIGMATICUS, KNOW YOUR OWN SECRETS. "At least we're at the right place," he said cheerfully. "What have you turned up about this Enigmaticus bird? That CAN'T be his real name."
"No," she answered as she leaned over him to get a look at the store herself. "He is Dewey M Schmidt from Atlanta, Georgia. He is fifty-eight years old and has apparently been a fortune-teller most of his life, working carnivals and county fairs. He was married for a year to a woman named Patricia but the divorce became final in 2002. Schmidt has been at this storefront location for just under two years."
"No criminal record, I guess?"
"Nothing of consquence. He has been warned a number of times by local law-enforcement in different states to move on rather than face bunko charges. Schmidt, or 'Enigmaticus' skirts the law by offering advice and consultations rather than claiming to actually foretell the future." She paused and added, "But of course, what his clients come for is not what they seem to be receiving. Two suicides and a missing person that we know of."
Archie scraped the back of his hand across a bristly cheek and considered the situation. He always seemed to need a shave, just as he always appeared to be due for a haircut. In a wide, heavy-featured face, a pair of light blue eyes were so gentle that they gave his true nature away. "How do you want to do this? Do we go in together?"
"Oh, yes. I appreciate your presence, Archie. And, to be honest, you understand human nature better than I ever will. Being raised by the Trom has left me a permanent outsider, I'm afraid." She unbuckled her seat belt and placed one small hand on his coat sleeve before hopping out of the jeep.
Archie joined her as they walked past the frozen yogurt store and nail salon. Every parking spot was filled, people crowded the narrow sidewalk in front of the row of stores. Many of them seemed agitated and far from enjoying the season.
"I do not observe holidays," Megan said, "The Trom just ignore such customs. I hope this does not trouble you, Archie."
"Nah. I'd like to skip all the shopping and visiting myself, but my family insists. I still have to get something for my brother's two boys, come to think of it." He stood in front of the psychic's storefront and tried to see inside the tinted window without success. On the door, hours open were painted.
Megan opened the door, making a tiny bell hung overhead tinkle as she did so. The front part of the store had a counter with a cash register, credit card swiper and a stack of cards with the store name and phone number printed on them. Along the walls, a variety of interesting merchandise was for sale. Dreamcatchers, jewels such as tourmalines and malachite, various types of necklaces and rings, hand-carved carved wooden boxes and smudge sticks were most apparent. A chest-high bookshelf offered pamphlets and thin paperbacks, and there were also posters of the chakras or of inspiring outer space vistas for sale as well.
In a recessed area partially concealed by a gauzy curtain, a couch and two comfortable chairs could be seen. This area was dimly lit by a blue bulb, and it was from here that Enigmaticus emerged with a smile. "Hello, there. Can I help you folks?"
The former Dewey Schmidt did not look healthy. He was a bit under average height and frail in a black suit that fit loosely.. perhaps he had bought it before losing weight. The man had striking features, with a hawklike nose and strong jawline, black hair brushed straight back over a high forehead. But he seemed weary and disinterested, and the dark circles under his eyes did not help. Megan's keen sense of smell caught a definite tang of bourbon under mouthwash.
"Hi!" she sang out in a cheerful tone not at all like her usual calm, measured tones. "I've been experimenting with different psychic experiences. I've had a Reiki session and a Tarot reading. I'm very interested in learning what you offer here?"
Archie smiled pleasantly, partly because that was his nature but also because he was amused to hear Trom Girl roll off the speech they had worked out.
"Oh, I will be glad to explain, young lady. To some extent, I do offer warnings and hints as to what you might expect. But mostly, my art is to inform you of memories you have forgotten or suppressed. Many times, I can tell you what you have subconsciously observed of other people but do not consciously know."
"Really," she responded. "Interesting. Recovered memories and subconscious observations... I think a person could learn much about herself that way."
Enigmaticus tugged down his suit coat and adjusted his cuffs. Perhaps he had been napping, that would explain his bleary eyes. "As always, I fear I must offer a warning. Some of these memories might be unpleasant. You might recall hugging your first pal in kindergarten, but you might just as easily remember some trauma you would like to keep buried."
"Hm. Oh, I think I will take my chances. We still have some running around to do today, can I make an appointment tomorrow? Say, early afternoon?" asked Megan. She was smiling much more than she usually did, which made her look both quite pretty and younger than her real age.
"Oh, certainly. Would one o'clock be good? It's forty dollars for a half hour and sixty-five for a full hour. I have several clients that come in weekly and keep journals of what they have learned."
"An hour, please," said Megan in her sweetest voice. "Is that where the sessions take place? May we take a look?"
"Of course, of course." The man held the semi-transparent curtain aside and they entered a cozy nook where a long comfortable couch sat against the wall under the faint blue light. A chair up by one end of the couch and an identical chair at the foot made up all the furnishings. The walls were painted with relaxing swirls of light and dark blue. There was one startling touch that Megan immediately headed for.
On a shelf next to the chair at the foot of the couch sat a human skull on a velvet pad. It was situated to be right near the ear of the person sitting there. She leaned closer to examine the skull without touching it. "A young woman's? No, a man's skull but quite a delicate bone structure."
"Oh, that. Yes. A ceremonial gift from my teacher. I usually cover it with a cloth before the customer enters," Engimaticus said with obvious dismay. "My instructor was old-fashioned but well versed in the esoteric knowledge."
"It doesn't bother me," Megan said. She turned and gave the psychic a warm smile as she headed out into the main part of the store again. "So, then, I will be back tomorrow for my session."
"I will be looking forward to it. Here, please take a card in case you need to contact me." As the two left his shop, Enigmaticus waved politely. Then, slowly, as if drawn against his will, he turned back to stare at the polished skull which was somehow facing him on its shelf.
II.
Back outside, Archie said, "How about I drive for a spell, hon?"
"Oh yes, please!" she answered, grabbing the door handle on the passenger side. "I have much to think about."
As he settled behind the steering wheel, the big mechanic adjusted the seat height and mirrors for his size. "It's almost five now. Are we heading back to headquarters so you can report?"
"No. I don't think so. Archie, please continue driving in the direction we were going." As he eased out into the savage traffic, Trom Girl went on, "I intend to return to that shop late tonight to investigate. I don't want to drive all the way back to Manhattan now, discuss the case with Sable and grab a meal and then have to come back here in the middle of the night."
"I can see that," Archie said. "So, you want to just take a break until then?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Find a reasonable motel. I am satisfied with the Holiday Inn chain. We can take a room for the night, shower and change and enjoy room service. Then, around one in the morning, we will go back on the mission."
"They have Pay-Per-View. We could order a nice comedy and get a few laughs."
The Trom Girl squeezed his arm and leaned over against him. "I would enjoy that, Archie. My sense of humor is starting to develop. I actually understood many of the jokes in the last movie that we saw. Once I realized it was a comedy, that is."
"Great," Archie said as he slowed to make a turn. "We can squeeze a date night into the middle of a 'Trom Girl Mystery.'"
"I should inform the team, though," she grumbled. Taking her Link from its clip on her belt, she used the device to patch into the regular Verizon system. "Hi. Unicorn? Is Sable there? No. Well, I have found something interesting on the Engimaticus case. He seems to have an artifact with gralic attributes. I will be staying in New Jersey today to investigate and should report tomorrow."
Megan paused, listening to the voice on the other line. "No, thank you, I do not think Archie and I will need you to come rescue us at the last second. Yes, I definitely will invite you instead on the next Trom Girl Mystery. Thank you anyway. What? No, this is not just an excuse for me to 'do it with my sweetie' and even if it was, how does that concern you? You know, Ashley, you are the prettiest girl I have ever known, so how is it that you don't have a boyfriend of your own? Hello?"
With an expression of complete surprise on her face, Megan said, "She hung up."
Archie could not keep from laughing. "Finally. You finally found a way to get Unicorn to stop talking. I didn't think it was possible."
Returning the Link to her belt, Trom Girl sounded a bit pensive. "I don't always understand what will hurt Human feelings. Maybe I should partner with her on the next case?"
"It would make her happy, that's for sure. And, to be honest, I think you would loosen up and enjoy working with her. That little girl's a firecracker but she's also good at her job."
As they crawled through the dense struggle of cars and trucks, Megan said, "I have been thinking about the suicides. According to Lt Montez, the only common factor the two men had in common is that they had seen Enigmaticus recently. The woman who is still missing had also been to see him. That's what led him to call the Kenneth Dred Foundation, and what led Sable to ask if I wanted to look into it."
"I don't quite get it," Archie commented. "So, something he told them was so awful that they couldn't deal with it? Like what?"
Megan studied Archie's profile thoughtfully. "The first suicide went to the doctor for blood work the next day. He then had to go for an MRI and he was told he had an inoperable brain tumor. He killed himself a week later, after quietly arranging things for his family."
"Oh, I get it. That was what Enigmaticus revealed to him. The others?"
"The other man had his wife with him. Enigmaticus revealed the man had had many homosexual experiences since adolescence and was being tempted by a new man at the office. The wife had an emotional meltdown. She said that it explained so much she had been trying to rationalize. They left with both extremely upset. The next day, the man purchased a cheap revolver, parked in front of a hospital and shot himself in the head."
"Now I'M getting mad! I don't even know these people but why the hell would this psychic even say stuff like this? People want to hear good news!"
Megan sighed. "I can only surmise that whatever perception Enigmaticus is tapping into has a malicious nature. We may never know what the woman learned that drove her to vanish so completely. I suspect that skull, to be honest. I think it is a Midnight War talisman." She pointed down the street. "Look, Archie. See. A Holiday Inn, it will do fine."
"I'm turning into the parking lot now, hon. For the next seven hours or so, we can relax and take a mini-vacation from everything. And I'm starving. How does Surf and Turf sound?"
The Trom Girl grinned unexpectedly. "And, as long as Unicorn is so concerned about our sexual actitivity...."
III.
Despite the warning sticker on the back door, there was no burglar alarm. Megan opened the lock with the device that extended filaments which shaped themselves, stiffened and rotated. As she opened the back door, the Trom Girl turned to her Jeep and gave Archie a thumbs up. Then she entered with the beam projector in her hand. The light enhancers in her helmet's visor showed the interior of the shop's back room clearly.
Engimaticus was stretched out on a couch which opened up to a queen-sized bed, and he was breathing noisily through his open mouth. The odor of whisky was heavy in the air, and the empty bottle on the floor where he had dropped it suggested that the fortune teller would not be easily roused. The Trom Girl played the neural shock beam over the man at low intensity anyway. He would be in a deep dreamless slumber for at least the next hour.
Curious, she examined the back room. Engimaticus was not supposed to be living here, this building was not approved for habitation and it violated the terms of his lease with the strip mall. Aside from the sleeping arrangement, there was a waist-high refrigerator and a counter with an electric grill just big enough to make a toasted cheese on. Boxes of clothing and personal items were stacked against one wall, still unpacked despite the fact the fortune-teller had been staying here for years.
On a nightstand by the couch was a cheap lamp and a framed photo of a woman she recognized as Enigmaticus' ex-wife. Megan felt the faintest of sympatetic twinges at seeing this but it really was not her concern. In one corner was a stack of hardbound books on the occult. She glanced over the titles, finding most were just New Age fluff but one or two were rarer and actually about the secret world of the Midnight War. Seeing a copy of Garrison Nebel's BLIND ILLUSIONS surprised her. That was a limited printing from twenty years earlier.
Leaving the depressing room, Megan stepped into a short hallway which had a rudimentary bathroom to one side. There was no shower, just a sink and toilet, with a mop and bucket in a corner. Passing through a heavy beaded curtain into the storefront itself, she found it illuminated well enough by the lights through the window of the parking lot that the enhancers in her helmet shut down. The Trom Girl thumbed her right ear pod and the visor slid up silently into its track within the helmet's layers.
The session room was at she remembered it from earlier that day, with the tang in the air of having been smudged. Megan wanted to inspect that skull. She found it sitting on its velvet cushion near the chair and brought it out to the sales counter to get a better look in the light from the parking lot. It was not a replica. Definitely an actual skull, she concluded, well cleaned and polished. The jaw was held on by gold wire through holes drilled in the bone.
Examing the artifact, the Trom Girl concluded it was not a woman's skull. Long and narrow, the reduced brow ridges and an unusually long space between nose and upper teeth were signs it had belonged to a Dartha, one of that ancient Race of malevolent sorcerers. How it had come here from the forbidden realm of Maroch to end up in the possession of a fraudulent psychic was a mystery she felt strongly inclined to investigate. She was not sure she should leave a potentially dangerous object like a Darthan skull in the ignorant custody of Enigmatic.
Then she heard the whispering in her head.
Just audible in the still room, clear and mocking in its tone, a low cultured voice whispered, "Orphan of the Humans, ward of the Trom, belonging fully to neither world."
Megan bent closer. "Is that you speaking? Of course it is. You must have been a Kje."
"You know much, little one. Yes, in life I was Marlenor Kje of the Third Circle, near the throne. Only an echo and a shadow remains...."
"How did you instill your consciousness here?" she asked. "Whatever brain cells remain must be long dead. There is no blood supply."
"A little-known spell beyond your understanding. But I am here to tell you about you. Do you wish to know more?" hissed the skull without its jaw moving. With no lungs to move air, no lips or tongue, the artifact sent its thoughts directly to the Trom Girl's mind.
"Oh, certainly." Without realizing she was doing it, Megan slid the wheeled swivel chair over and dropped down to bend over the gleaming skull. "So can I conclude you are the source of Enigmaticus' inexplicable knowledge?"
"Let me reveal the truth. A woman close to you desires you the way a man desires a woman, an unnatural lust that breaks all taboos."
"Oh, I know who that must be," Megan answered. "Not Unicorn of course, she's a bit boy-crazy. Is this supposed to be shocking?"
"Your masters among the inhuman Trom see you only as a useful tool to interact with Humans."
"Yes, that's our arrangement. I get Tel Shai membership in exchange for sharing Trom tech. Everyone benefits. Does Engimaticus know you were a Dartha? Does he know what he's dealing with?"
A note of irritation entered the telepathic whispering, "The car crash that killed your parents was caused by your father's drinking."
"Ventura Highway, May 3, 1980. I was too little to understand at the time. It's too bad of course but it can't be undone." The Trom Girl leaned closer. "Are you extracting this data from my memories? If so, you can't really be telling me anything I don't already know, even if only subconsciously."
The Darthan skull sounded seriously angry at this point. Its hissing voice almost sputtered. "Your lover has known the embrace of many women before he met you!"
"Tell me about it," she said. "He was in the Army for two years. Archie was stationed in Germany the first year and he was only nineteen. I bet he had some action."
As if summoned, the hulking shape of Archie McAllister appeared through the beaded curtain. He said in what for him was a quiet voice, "Got worried about you, hon. What's up?"
Megan Salenger sat up and smiled at him in the gloom. "Hi. This is the skull of a Dartha, I told you about them. He is telling me things that he thinks I don't want to hear." As she said this, she felt the faint tingle of contact leave her mind as the skull swung its attention over to Archie.
"Your love for this woman has already begun to...", was as far as the Darthan artrifact got before Archie raised a huge fist and brought it down hard to smash the brittle skull into fragments. Shards and chips of bone spun away from the impact.
"Nobody likes a blabbermouth who tells secrets," the big mechanic said as he rubbed his bruised hand.
Blinking, the Trom Girl stood up. "I couldn't hear him when he turned his thoughts to you, dear. What was he beginning to say?"
"I didn't wait to find out," Archie replied angrily. "We should get out of here, hon."
"I suppose so. Maybe this is for the best. I don't know what Enigmaticus will think when he wakes and finds his secret talisman destroyed like this, but at least he will not be driving his clients to depression and suicide anymore."
Archie kicked one of the bone fragments away. "Aw, let him go back to suffling Tarot cards and reading lines in peoples' hands. Better for everyone."
7/16/2016
A Trom Girl Mystery
12/13/2006
I.
She shot past the strip mall they were looking for, and it took ten minutes to turn left at the next intersection into a parking lot and come out to circle back again. Megan Salenger finally pulled her red Jeep Cherokee into the strip mall and parked it, put it in gear and turned the engine off and then let out a long exasperated breath. "I do not like Paramus," she said to Archie. "I do not intend to come back here."
In the passenger seat, his familiar bulk looming up to almost fill the space, Archie McAllister tried not to grin. "Well, honey, it's only two weeks before Christmas. You have to expect traffic to be crazy."
The Trom Girl visibly relaxed as her shoulders lowered and she sighed. At twenty-seven, Megan appeared considerably younger. Her small frame and shag of tousled black hair over an inquisitive face combined to make her look like a teenager. On this gloomy overcast day, she was wearing the snug waist-length KDF field jacket rather than a winter coat because it was so well insulated that it would keep her more comfortable. "I suppose I should realize that," she said with resignation. "I've experienced it before."
A foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than his partner, Archie peered out his window at the strip mall. There was a frozen yogurt place, a nail salon, and a pet supply store. At the end of the row of buildings, a wide dark-tinted window read PSYCHIC READINGS - WALK-INS WELCOME in red script and beneath that in smaller letters, ENIGMATICUS, KNOW YOUR OWN SECRETS. "At least we're at the right place," he said cheerfully. "What have you turned up about this Enigmaticus bird? That CAN'T be his real name."
"No," she answered as she leaned over him to get a look at the store herself. "He is Dewey M Schmidt from Atlanta, Georgia. He is fifty-eight years old and has apparently been a fortune-teller most of his life, working carnivals and county fairs. He was married for a year to a woman named Patricia but the divorce became final in 2002. Schmidt has been at this storefront location for just under two years."
"No criminal record, I guess?"
"Nothing of consquence. He has been warned a number of times by local law-enforcement in different states to move on rather than face bunko charges. Schmidt, or 'Enigmaticus' skirts the law by offering advice and consultations rather than claiming to actually foretell the future." She paused and added, "But of course, what his clients come for is not what they seem to be receiving. Two suicides and a missing person that we know of."
Archie scraped the back of his hand across a bristly cheek and considered the situation. He always seemed to need a shave, just as he always appeared to be due for a haircut. In a wide, heavy-featured face, a pair of light blue eyes were so gentle that they gave his true nature away. "How do you want to do this? Do we go in together?"
"Oh, yes. I appreciate your presence, Archie. And, to be honest, you understand human nature better than I ever will. Being raised by the Trom has left me a permanent outsider, I'm afraid." She unbuckled her seat belt and placed one small hand on his coat sleeve before hopping out of the jeep.
Archie joined her as they walked past the frozen yogurt store and nail salon. Every parking spot was filled, people crowded the narrow sidewalk in front of the row of stores. Many of them seemed agitated and far from enjoying the season.
"I do not observe holidays," Megan said, "The Trom just ignore such customs. I hope this does not trouble you, Archie."
"Nah. I'd like to skip all the shopping and visiting myself, but my family insists. I still have to get something for my brother's two boys, come to think of it." He stood in front of the psychic's storefront and tried to see inside the tinted window without success. On the door, hours open were painted.
Megan opened the door, making a tiny bell hung overhead tinkle as she did so. The front part of the store had a counter with a cash register, credit card swiper and a stack of cards with the store name and phone number printed on them. Along the walls, a variety of interesting merchandise was for sale. Dreamcatchers, jewels such as tourmalines and malachite, various types of necklaces and rings, hand-carved carved wooden boxes and smudge sticks were most apparent. A chest-high bookshelf offered pamphlets and thin paperbacks, and there were also posters of the chakras or of inspiring outer space vistas for sale as well.
In a recessed area partially concealed by a gauzy curtain, a couch and two comfortable chairs could be seen. This area was dimly lit by a blue bulb, and it was from here that Enigmaticus emerged with a smile. "Hello, there. Can I help you folks?"
The former Dewey Schmidt did not look healthy. He was a bit under average height and frail in a black suit that fit loosely.. perhaps he had bought it before losing weight. The man had striking features, with a hawklike nose and strong jawline, black hair brushed straight back over a high forehead. But he seemed weary and disinterested, and the dark circles under his eyes did not help. Megan's keen sense of smell caught a definite tang of bourbon under mouthwash.
"Hi!" she sang out in a cheerful tone not at all like her usual calm, measured tones. "I've been experimenting with different psychic experiences. I've had a Reiki session and a Tarot reading. I'm very interested in learning what you offer here?"
Archie smiled pleasantly, partly because that was his nature but also because he was amused to hear Trom Girl roll off the speech they had worked out.
"Oh, I will be glad to explain, young lady. To some extent, I do offer warnings and hints as to what you might expect. But mostly, my art is to inform you of memories you have forgotten or suppressed. Many times, I can tell you what you have subconsciously observed of other people but do not consciously know."
"Really," she responded. "Interesting. Recovered memories and subconscious observations... I think a person could learn much about herself that way."
Enigmaticus tugged down his suit coat and adjusted his cuffs. Perhaps he had been napping, that would explain his bleary eyes. "As always, I fear I must offer a warning. Some of these memories might be unpleasant. You might recall hugging your first pal in kindergarten, but you might just as easily remember some trauma you would like to keep buried."
"Hm. Oh, I think I will take my chances. We still have some running around to do today, can I make an appointment tomorrow? Say, early afternoon?" asked Megan. She was smiling much more than she usually did, which made her look both quite pretty and younger than her real age.
"Oh, certainly. Would one o'clock be good? It's forty dollars for a half hour and sixty-five for a full hour. I have several clients that come in weekly and keep journals of what they have learned."
"An hour, please," said Megan in her sweetest voice. "Is that where the sessions take place? May we take a look?"
"Of course, of course." The man held the semi-transparent curtain aside and they entered a cozy nook where a long comfortable couch sat against the wall under the faint blue light. A chair up by one end of the couch and an identical chair at the foot made up all the furnishings. The walls were painted with relaxing swirls of light and dark blue. There was one startling touch that Megan immediately headed for.
On a shelf next to the chair at the foot of the couch sat a human skull on a velvet pad. It was situated to be right near the ear of the person sitting there. She leaned closer to examine the skull without touching it. "A young woman's? No, a man's skull but quite a delicate bone structure."
"Oh, that. Yes. A ceremonial gift from my teacher. I usually cover it with a cloth before the customer enters," Engimaticus said with obvious dismay. "My instructor was old-fashioned but well versed in the esoteric knowledge."
"It doesn't bother me," Megan said. She turned and gave the psychic a warm smile as she headed out into the main part of the store again. "So, then, I will be back tomorrow for my session."
"I will be looking forward to it. Here, please take a card in case you need to contact me." As the two left his shop, Enigmaticus waved politely. Then, slowly, as if drawn against his will, he turned back to stare at the polished skull which was somehow facing him on its shelf.
II.
Back outside, Archie said, "How about I drive for a spell, hon?"
"Oh yes, please!" she answered, grabbing the door handle on the passenger side. "I have much to think about."
As he settled behind the steering wheel, the big mechanic adjusted the seat height and mirrors for his size. "It's almost five now. Are we heading back to headquarters so you can report?"
"No. I don't think so. Archie, please continue driving in the direction we were going." As he eased out into the savage traffic, Trom Girl went on, "I intend to return to that shop late tonight to investigate. I don't want to drive all the way back to Manhattan now, discuss the case with Sable and grab a meal and then have to come back here in the middle of the night."
"I can see that," Archie said. "So, you want to just take a break until then?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Find a reasonable motel. I am satisfied with the Holiday Inn chain. We can take a room for the night, shower and change and enjoy room service. Then, around one in the morning, we will go back on the mission."
"They have Pay-Per-View. We could order a nice comedy and get a few laughs."
The Trom Girl squeezed his arm and leaned over against him. "I would enjoy that, Archie. My sense of humor is starting to develop. I actually understood many of the jokes in the last movie that we saw. Once I realized it was a comedy, that is."
"Great," Archie said as he slowed to make a turn. "We can squeeze a date night into the middle of a 'Trom Girl Mystery.'"
"I should inform the team, though," she grumbled. Taking her Link from its clip on her belt, she used the device to patch into the regular Verizon system. "Hi. Unicorn? Is Sable there? No. Well, I have found something interesting on the Engimaticus case. He seems to have an artifact with gralic attributes. I will be staying in New Jersey today to investigate and should report tomorrow."
Megan paused, listening to the voice on the other line. "No, thank you, I do not think Archie and I will need you to come rescue us at the last second. Yes, I definitely will invite you instead on the next Trom Girl Mystery. Thank you anyway. What? No, this is not just an excuse for me to 'do it with my sweetie' and even if it was, how does that concern you? You know, Ashley, you are the prettiest girl I have ever known, so how is it that you don't have a boyfriend of your own? Hello?"
With an expression of complete surprise on her face, Megan said, "She hung up."
Archie could not keep from laughing. "Finally. You finally found a way to get Unicorn to stop talking. I didn't think it was possible."
Returning the Link to her belt, Trom Girl sounded a bit pensive. "I don't always understand what will hurt Human feelings. Maybe I should partner with her on the next case?"
"It would make her happy, that's for sure. And, to be honest, I think you would loosen up and enjoy working with her. That little girl's a firecracker but she's also good at her job."
As they crawled through the dense struggle of cars and trucks, Megan said, "I have been thinking about the suicides. According to Lt Montez, the only common factor the two men had in common is that they had seen Enigmaticus recently. The woman who is still missing had also been to see him. That's what led him to call the Kenneth Dred Foundation, and what led Sable to ask if I wanted to look into it."
"I don't quite get it," Archie commented. "So, something he told them was so awful that they couldn't deal with it? Like what?"
Megan studied Archie's profile thoughtfully. "The first suicide went to the doctor for blood work the next day. He then had to go for an MRI and he was told he had an inoperable brain tumor. He killed himself a week later, after quietly arranging things for his family."
"Oh, I get it. That was what Enigmaticus revealed to him. The others?"
"The other man had his wife with him. Enigmaticus revealed the man had had many homosexual experiences since adolescence and was being tempted by a new man at the office. The wife had an emotional meltdown. She said that it explained so much she had been trying to rationalize. They left with both extremely upset. The next day, the man purchased a cheap revolver, parked in front of a hospital and shot himself in the head."
"Now I'M getting mad! I don't even know these people but why the hell would this psychic even say stuff like this? People want to hear good news!"
Megan sighed. "I can only surmise that whatever perception Enigmaticus is tapping into has a malicious nature. We may never know what the woman learned that drove her to vanish so completely. I suspect that skull, to be honest. I think it is a Midnight War talisman." She pointed down the street. "Look, Archie. See. A Holiday Inn, it will do fine."
"I'm turning into the parking lot now, hon. For the next seven hours or so, we can relax and take a mini-vacation from everything. And I'm starving. How does Surf and Turf sound?"
The Trom Girl grinned unexpectedly. "And, as long as Unicorn is so concerned about our sexual actitivity...."
III.
Despite the warning sticker on the back door, there was no burglar alarm. Megan opened the lock with the device that extended filaments which shaped themselves, stiffened and rotated. As she opened the back door, the Trom Girl turned to her Jeep and gave Archie a thumbs up. Then she entered with the beam projector in her hand. The light enhancers in her helmet's visor showed the interior of the shop's back room clearly.
Engimaticus was stretched out on a couch which opened up to a queen-sized bed, and he was breathing noisily through his open mouth. The odor of whisky was heavy in the air, and the empty bottle on the floor where he had dropped it suggested that the fortune teller would not be easily roused. The Trom Girl played the neural shock beam over the man at low intensity anyway. He would be in a deep dreamless slumber for at least the next hour.
Curious, she examined the back room. Engimaticus was not supposed to be living here, this building was not approved for habitation and it violated the terms of his lease with the strip mall. Aside from the sleeping arrangement, there was a waist-high refrigerator and a counter with an electric grill just big enough to make a toasted cheese on. Boxes of clothing and personal items were stacked against one wall, still unpacked despite the fact the fortune-teller had been staying here for years.
On a nightstand by the couch was a cheap lamp and a framed photo of a woman she recognized as Enigmaticus' ex-wife. Megan felt the faintest of sympatetic twinges at seeing this but it really was not her concern. In one corner was a stack of hardbound books on the occult. She glanced over the titles, finding most were just New Age fluff but one or two were rarer and actually about the secret world of the Midnight War. Seeing a copy of Garrison Nebel's BLIND ILLUSIONS surprised her. That was a limited printing from twenty years earlier.
Leaving the depressing room, Megan stepped into a short hallway which had a rudimentary bathroom to one side. There was no shower, just a sink and toilet, with a mop and bucket in a corner. Passing through a heavy beaded curtain into the storefront itself, she found it illuminated well enough by the lights through the window of the parking lot that the enhancers in her helmet shut down. The Trom Girl thumbed her right ear pod and the visor slid up silently into its track within the helmet's layers.
The session room was at she remembered it from earlier that day, with the tang in the air of having been smudged. Megan wanted to inspect that skull. She found it sitting on its velvet cushion near the chair and brought it out to the sales counter to get a better look in the light from the parking lot. It was not a replica. Definitely an actual skull, she concluded, well cleaned and polished. The jaw was held on by gold wire through holes drilled in the bone.
Examing the artifact, the Trom Girl concluded it was not a woman's skull. Long and narrow, the reduced brow ridges and an unusually long space between nose and upper teeth were signs it had belonged to a Dartha, one of that ancient Race of malevolent sorcerers. How it had come here from the forbidden realm of Maroch to end up in the possession of a fraudulent psychic was a mystery she felt strongly inclined to investigate. She was not sure she should leave a potentially dangerous object like a Darthan skull in the ignorant custody of Enigmatic.
Then she heard the whispering in her head.
Just audible in the still room, clear and mocking in its tone, a low cultured voice whispered, "Orphan of the Humans, ward of the Trom, belonging fully to neither world."
Megan bent closer. "Is that you speaking? Of course it is. You must have been a Kje."
"You know much, little one. Yes, in life I was Marlenor Kje of the Third Circle, near the throne. Only an echo and a shadow remains...."
"How did you instill your consciousness here?" she asked. "Whatever brain cells remain must be long dead. There is no blood supply."
"A little-known spell beyond your understanding. But I am here to tell you about you. Do you wish to know more?" hissed the skull without its jaw moving. With no lungs to move air, no lips or tongue, the artifact sent its thoughts directly to the Trom Girl's mind.
"Oh, certainly." Without realizing she was doing it, Megan slid the wheeled swivel chair over and dropped down to bend over the gleaming skull. "So can I conclude you are the source of Enigmaticus' inexplicable knowledge?"
"Let me reveal the truth. A woman close to you desires you the way a man desires a woman, an unnatural lust that breaks all taboos."
"Oh, I know who that must be," Megan answered. "Not Unicorn of course, she's a bit boy-crazy. Is this supposed to be shocking?"
"Your masters among the inhuman Trom see you only as a useful tool to interact with Humans."
"Yes, that's our arrangement. I get Tel Shai membership in exchange for sharing Trom tech. Everyone benefits. Does Engimaticus know you were a Dartha? Does he know what he's dealing with?"
A note of irritation entered the telepathic whispering, "The car crash that killed your parents was caused by your father's drinking."
"Ventura Highway, May 3, 1980. I was too little to understand at the time. It's too bad of course but it can't be undone." The Trom Girl leaned closer. "Are you extracting this data from my memories? If so, you can't really be telling me anything I don't already know, even if only subconsciously."
The Darthan skull sounded seriously angry at this point. Its hissing voice almost sputtered. "Your lover has known the embrace of many women before he met you!"
"Tell me about it," she said. "He was in the Army for two years. Archie was stationed in Germany the first year and he was only nineteen. I bet he had some action."
As if summoned, the hulking shape of Archie McAllister appeared through the beaded curtain. He said in what for him was a quiet voice, "Got worried about you, hon. What's up?"
Megan Salenger sat up and smiled at him in the gloom. "Hi. This is the skull of a Dartha, I told you about them. He is telling me things that he thinks I don't want to hear." As she said this, she felt the faint tingle of contact leave her mind as the skull swung its attention over to Archie.
"Your love for this woman has already begun to...", was as far as the Darthan artrifact got before Archie raised a huge fist and brought it down hard to smash the brittle skull into fragments. Shards and chips of bone spun away from the impact.
"Nobody likes a blabbermouth who tells secrets," the big mechanic said as he rubbed his bruised hand.
Blinking, the Trom Girl stood up. "I couldn't hear him when he turned his thoughts to you, dear. What was he beginning to say?"
"I didn't wait to find out," Archie replied angrily. "We should get out of here, hon."
"I suppose so. Maybe this is for the best. I don't know what Enigmaticus will think when he wakes and finds his secret talisman destroyed like this, but at least he will not be driving his clients to depression and suicide anymore."
Archie kicked one of the bone fragments away. "Aw, let him go back to suffling Tarot cards and reading lines in peoples' hands. Better for everyone."
7/16/2016
