Ghost Shadow

“He killed people.”

“He had a right! We were meant for great things. Don’t you understand anything? I had to get revenge on the Becketts for my family. For honor! I am the curse!”

“No! You’re a cop!”

“Yes, yes, and such a good one. Katie, time has gone by-time has waited. For me! Don’t go thinking I’m crazy, young lady. I have been on a mission. And David Beckett will finally pay the piper for his vile family. He should have been arrested and sent to the electric chair for Tanya-now that didn’t really hurt much. She was a little tramp. I was only a patrolman at the time, but she was so tipsy. And it was so easy. She was walking on one of the side streets, pacing. I stopped to give her a ride. She got right in the car, and I said I’d take her to the museum, to see David. She looked out the window, and I was ready. I didn’t even really know what I was doing then, but it was easy. I’d been prepared for the right moment, so I slipped that clean plastic over her head, and she had so much alcohol in her system…well, she went easy. Laid her out in back of the car…used the key to the museum I’d copied at least two or three months earlier, just waiting on ol’ David to get back, Mr. Hero Serviceman! Then, after midnight, I had lots of time to set her up. Now, that Stella, she was just at the right place at the right time, and I was at the right place at the right time, and good ol’David was back in the city, thinking he could tear the case apart.”

“Why did you let him?” Katie asked.

“Because I’m so damned good. With Stella, the city was rising. I just walked right up behind her while she was peeking through the bushes-afraid of the cops! Killed her-and left her there for hours. Who knows? Maybe folks even saw her and thought she was a drunk, sleeping it off. I went back for her, and hell, yes, missy, I had a copy of the key to that place, too-that shoddy new museum where I left Stella. Of course, I took the tapes from the surveillance cameras.” He paused to chuckle. “I even called David Beckett to come see the crime scene.”

“Da

“Da

“He left the money and the books-that’s why you took your time getting a search warrant for his apartment, right?”

“I knew I had to get in there first,” Pete said.

“Why me?” she asked softly.

“Oh, Katie! Such a pretty, sweet thing! But he loves you, so…this is really the revenge I wanted. With Tanya, it was perfect-he had motive, he was young, he was big, he should have been angry. There’s motive for you! And…he cared about her, but not the way he cares about you. That’s too perfect. That’s real revenge!”

“Pete, Pete, think, you’re a cop, they’ll know it was you now!”

He laughed. “I’m a cop, yes. And that’s the point. We’ve come full circle from the hanging tree, and now it can all rest. The past will really be avenged. And as to my position, it’s perfect. And I am the best! I’ve served this city. I’ve been firm, and I’ve been fair. I’ve taken down some of the biggest drug lords to darken our door. And now, my life will be purged. Now, once Beckett is dead and he’s history-a vicious killer brought down by the descendant of the man he wronged-I’ll make history myself. I’ll take the chief’s place in a few years. And, in time, I’ll run for office. I’ll be governor, you’ll see. My life is bigger than this small island. It’s my destiny to carry out the curse. That’s how powerful I really am!”

He was serious. Dead serious. That was perhaps the most terrifying aspect of it all. He believed that he had been wronged. He probably had been a good cop-other than being a psycho murderer.

“Why are you hurting my brother?” she asked.

“Katie O’Hara! You don’t know your history. Your brother’s death adds so much to all this. Don’t you know? Oh, please, you might have guessed. An O’Hara was on the jury that denounced my ancestor, did you know that? An O’Hara helped deliver a death sentence. So, well, I just hadn’t expected quite this much justice, but it’s all fallen in nicely.” He lifted her head for her, twisting it so that she could see clearly.

She winced, trying not to cry out.

Sean looked like an oversize doll. He’d been set up in a stand. He was lolled against it, still unconscious. He was wearing Tanzler’s hat. Sean was tall and broad-shouldered. It must have irritated Pete that he couldn’t possibly shove Sean into Carl Tanzler’s much smaller clothing.

“Katie!”

She heard the soft whisper. Bartholomew was standing by her side. Behind him she could see Da

“We’re trying, Katie. Work your left wrist. We’re trying…we’re trying.”

She smiled. Her head was killing her.

She wondered if she was going to join them soon.

Suddenly, something flew across the room and crashed against the wall. Pete Dryer spun around, his gun out. He fired shots into the wall, then he turned to face the dark corridor that led to the room.

“Beckett! I know that you’re out there!” Dryer warned. “Show yourself-or I’ll shoot her in the kneecaps long before I put her out of her misery!”

“Oh, that will go u

“You ass! I’ll do it!” Pete said.

David moved into view. He didn’t look at Katie. She was certain that he didn’t dare.

She felt movement at her wrist. She twisted it. The tie was loosening.

“Shoot me, Pete-isn’t that your plan?” David asked.

Pete raised his gun. “Yes, it is.”

He fired.

But David wasn’t there. There was a sound of exploding glass. Katie dimly realized that he had taken a mirror from one of the exhibits. Pete had shot at his reflection.

Something came flying into the room. It was a headstone from the Maine exhibit.

It caught Pete right in the chest, slamming him backward. She heard his gun fly-and crash into the floor.

Somewhere.

“Get up, Katie, get up!” Bartholomew urged her.

She wrenched her wrist free. Halfway up, she started tearing at the other tie herself.

“Don’t! David, there’s another-”

“Trip wire, I know!” he shouted back to her.

Pete Dryer made a dive for the gun. David leapt the wire, and went flying down for it himself. Pete was closer.

He almost reached it.

But someone else was there.

Not Bartholomew. Not Tanya, or Stella.

She was Bartholomew’s lady in white, the broken-hearted Lucinda, and she used a foot that was clad in a delicate white slipper to send the gun sliding farther back in the room. Katie freed her hand and leapt from the table.

Pete staggered up, ready to fly for the gun again.

But David was in a fury. He tackled Pete, bringing him facedown on the floor, sending his nose, chin and forehead into a hard thud against the wood. He slammed the man’s head down again, and again, then jerked up to his feet, and slid back down to reach the gun.

He caught it.

Pete staggered up. David had the gun on him.

Pete started to lunge, but wavered.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Pete. Don’t,” David said.

Pete’s nose was bleeding profusely. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. He smiled.

He didn’t go for David, and he didn’t go for the gun.