“My feelings exactly,” Jekyll said.
I looked at all the junk strewn on the work table, wondering if any of it had come from the Timeworn Treasures pawnshop. Maybe he’d stolen it from the pack-rat gremlin? How I would have loved to pin Snazz’s murder on Jekyll, get him convicted and executed all over again—permanently this time! But that wasn’t likely. I didn’t see any connection.
“Our services aren’t free,” I said. “How do you plan to pay our retainer? I thought Miranda took everything in the divorce, and that was after the company collapsed because of the scandal. How can you afford to buy even a modest house?”
“And pay the bills,” Larry growled, “including my salary.”
“I’ve had to reinvent myself.” Jekyll rummaged among the electronic debris on the table. “I took a self-help seminar, learned how to meet my inner potential. I looked at everything I have to offer and figured out how I could use it to make a living. Follow a new dream.”
He poked at his hand and forearm, pinched his cheek. “Short-term, I just want to afford a better embalming job. It was never done properly after my visit to the electric chair.” His skin did have a greenish sheen, the color and consistency of spoiling meat.
I’ve heard that a second embalming after the fact is quite an unpleasant process, like going through an adult circumcision. “I highly recommend you try it,” I said.
“My main priority is to leave the Quarter and all those bad memories behind. You saw the vandalism to my door and mailbox. It happens every day, no matter which security systems I put out, no matter how often Larry patrols.”
“A couple of poltergeist hooligans,” Larry explained. “They’re hard to catch.”
“Ever since my demise, I’ve tried to keep a low profile, become a recluse,” Jekyll continued. “But they won’t leave me alone. You can understand why I just want to have a fresh start, go to a normal neighborhood, live like a normal person.”
I had to point out, “You’re dead, Jekyll, and a wannabe mass murderer. You left normal in the rearview mirror a long time ago.”
Robin inspected the inventions strewn all over the table. “And what is all this?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Jekyll smiled. “I may have lost everything else in the scandal, conviction, and execution, but I didn’t lose my intellectual genius. I commercialized one of my inventions. You may remember the ectoplasmic defibrillator that I developed at JLPN? A way to defend against criminal ghosts and spectral practitioners of corporate espionage?”
I remembered it all too well. Sheyenne had nearly gotten fratzed by his dangerous device.
“We intend to market it for security purposes among naturals, people who are afraid of home invasions or hauntings, spectral harassment. The defibrillator is a sure way to take care of the problem.”
“Why not use it to get rid of the poltergeists harassing you?” Larry growled. “It sure would make my job easier.”
“That can’t be legal,” Robin said. “Your device has no other purpose than to murder ghosts.”
Jekyll chuckled. “Murder ghosts? Are you listening to yourself? Naturals want to feel safe. It’s just like owning a handgun. And if the ghost doesn’t bother people, then the ghost has nothing to worry about.” He justified himself with more enthusiasm than our question warranted.
“There are laws against setting up automatic lethal devices for home protection,” Robin said. “You cannot use lethal force unless you are in fear for your life from an intruder.”
“I guarantee you, most of my customers would be in fear for their lives. And if a ghost is, by definition, dead, then this device cannot be considered lethal. It harms no living being.”
“Splitting hairs,” I muttered.
“With the best of them!” Jekyll said. “I look forward to any legal challenges. I have good backing.” He patted one of the devices, a large speaker-type grid hooked up to two car batteries, and I was very glad Sheyenne had stayed back in the office. “This baby is going to make my fortune back. My main investor is a powerful man who very much wants the ectoplasmic defibrillator on the market. Any roadblocks will be cleared away quite tidily.”
“And who is your main investor?” I asked, though I had a strong suspicion. Normally I wouldn’t expect a businessman to reveal such information, but Harvey Jekyll loved to gloat over his success.
“I may be back from the dead, but I’m still well connected, Chambeaux. It’s Senator Rupert Balfour—perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
Chapter 30
When the sole heir of the gremlin pawnbroker came to tidy up the estate, she engaged Robin’s services as a lawyer. “My name is Alice, and I’m here to discuss the liquidation of all unclaimed materials in Timeworn Treasures and the dissolution of the estate of my late brother Snazz.”
Alice was only about three feet tall, no taller than her brother. She was older than Snazz, the tufts of fur going gray and permed in a no-nonsense wave with the bluish tint that beauty parlors apply to old-lady hair. She wore too much inexpertly applied mascara around her large eyes, and the frumpy housedress made her look matronly even for such a diminutive creature. She came into our offices carrying a practical black snap purse with a chain strap, and she wore unremarkable, sensible shoes. Preceded by a strong waft of a common drugstore perfume, she stepped up to Sheyenne’s desk like a schoolteacher demanding attention from the class.
Robin came out and introduced herself with a concerned expression on her face. “I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Alice.”
“Me, too,” I added. “He didn’t deserve—”
“Moving on,” Alice said. “My brother and I chose different life paths. We were never close, although his death now brings me back into his life. I assume, Ms. Deyer, that you can take care of all of the necessary paperwork?”
“A clear Last Will and Testament will simplify the process, although if you are the only heir and the estate is uncontested, we should be able to transfer ownership without complications. Will you be taking over Timeworn Treasures? All of the assets and collateral-secured loans are your responsibility. The business may have clear title—”
“Oh, heavens, no!” Alice said. “I spent an hour in the place this morning, but had to leave. I just couldn’t stand all that dust and mildew. I sneezed for five minutes even after I came back out to the fresh air of the alley. No, I wish to sell the business, liquidate the assets, and use the money to enjoy my own life.”
I remembered the wonderful, exotic, and occasionally frightening objects on the shelves inside Timeworn Treasures. Snazz could have had a lucrative business if he’d been more willing to part with some of those treasures.