Wicked Business

Diesel leaned close to me. “Monroe’s buried one headstone over from Peder. I can read part of the inscription from here. I don’t want to tip our hand to Wulf, so casually walk over as if you wanted a closer look at the crime scene, touch the headstone, and see if there’s anything unusual about it.”


I followed Diesel’s instructions and moved closer to the excavation, resting my hand on Monroe’s headstone while I stood on tiptoe to better see over the people. I dropped my gaze and studied the stone. It was engraved with his name and the dates of his birth and death. Nothing more. No secret message. No weird vibrations. I returned to Diesel.

“Nothing,” I said.

We walked back to the car and left the cemetery.

“Sometimes I get the feeling Wulf is more of an observer than a participant in this search,” I said to Diesel.

“Wulf is like a cat, stalking his prey. He watches, he creeps closer, and he pounces.”

“I bet he was a sneaky little kid.”

“He was strange. Quiet. Competitive. Brilliant.”

“How about you? What were you like as a kid?”

“I was a total screwup.”

“But you’re not a screwup now.”

“Honey, I’m one step away from a bounty hunter. I believe in the value of my job, but not everyone is impressed. I’m sure my parents wish I was in banking like the rest of my relatives.”

“Are your parents special?”

“My mother is normal. My dad has unique abilities.”

“And Wulf?”

“His mother is my father’s sister, and she’s the high priestess of the family. Very powerful. Not all her abilities have been recorded. I suspect some of them are dark.”

“Does she give you a migraine?”

“No, but she makes me uncomfortable.”

I checked Carl, still sleeping in the backseat. “I hope he’s not dead.”

Diesel looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Too many cupcakes.”

“Do you think Wulf is the one who dug up Tichy?”

“No. I think someone followed Hatchet, pried information out of him, and then came back at night and went after Tichy.”

“Going on the assumption that something was buried with him. Like the bell with Duane.”

“Yes, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced the clue was referring to Monroe and his association with what is now the Science Museum.”

“Maybe we should visit the original museum.”

“I checked on it. The building was on the corner of Berkeley and Boylston. It’s been sold and renovated, and everything’s been moved to the new location.”

“The Science Museum! Are we going to the Science Museum? I’ve never been there. It’s got an IMAX, and a planetarium, and a machine that makes your hair stand on end. Glo was there last month on a date. She said it was awesome.”

“You get turned on by science?”

“I got second prize in the science fair when I was in third grade. I made a volcano.”

A half hour later, Diesel pulled in to the museum parking garage. He found a space next to the elevator, and Carl sat up.

“Eeep?”

“We’re at the Science Museum,” Diesel said to Carl. “You can’t go in. They don’t allow monkeys. You have to wait here.”

Carl gave him the finger.

Diesel and I got out, Diesel locked the SUV, and we crossed the short distance to the elevator. We got into the elevator and Carl scampered in after us.

“I thought you locked the car,” I said to Diesel.

“I did. He knows how to open the door.”

“Okay, how about if you put him in your backpack.”

Diesel jogged back to the SUV, got his backpack, and stuffed Carl in.

“You have to be quiet until we get into the museum,” I told Carl.

Carl nodded his head and made the sign of a zipper across his mouth.

“Are we sure he’s a monkey?” I asked Diesel.

“What else would he be?”

“I don’t know, but he’s not normal.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


The Boston Museum of Science isn’t huge in comparison to the Louvre, for example. It doesn’t take all day to see it. We covered the first floor and didn’t find anything with clue potential. We were about to go downstairs, and Carl started squirming in the backpack.

“He’s probably hot in there,” I said to Diesel. “Maybe we could take him out and disguise him as a kid. We’re next to the gift shop. I could buy him a shirt.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than a shirt,” Diesel said. “He’s hairy and bowlegged, and he has a tail.”

“Work with me,” I said. “Think positive. Not every kid is Opie Taylor.”

I slipped into the gift shop and found a toddler-size shirt with a dinosaur on it, overalls to match, and baby Uggs. I took Carl into the baby-changing room, got him dressed, and held him up to the mirror so he could see himself.

“Eep,” Carl said, pointing to the green dinosaur on his chest.

“Dinosaur,” I told him.

He looked at his feet in the Uggs.

“Shoes,” I said. “You have to wear shoes in the museum.”

I set him down. “You can walk, but you have to hold my hand.”

“Eep.”

I took him out and showed him to Diesel. “What do you think?”

“I need a drink.”

“I think he’s cute.”

“I bet you dressed your cat when you were little.”