The Second WomanSleuth Anthology (1989) by Irene Zahava

Author:Irene Zahava [Zahava, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

3.

Returning to the office seemed like a better idea than going home. A more or less commercially zoned neighborhood, it was pretty quiet at night. My locks are sturdy enough to at least let me know if someone is breaking in, and I do have a rod in my desk drawer. I’ve never actually carried it, much less used it, because most of my cases are about as exciting as an income tax form. But I keep the gun in case of emergencies and clean it faithfully once a week to ensure that it is in good working order.

I walked to the desk and fiddled with my answering machine. It always recorded perfectly. Playback, however, was a little iffy. Sometimes I would give up, figuring that if it was important, the caller would try again. Suddenly the gizmos snapped into place and the magic box began to spew faithfully-reproduced voices.

An electronic beep. Tom’s voice came on. “Get in touch, luv. It’s important.” He sounded worried.

Another beep. A breathy, deep female voice said, “Calico Jack is ours. Keep your distance. One more throat is easily cut.”

I spun around from the window and stared at the machine which was now silent. Cautiously rewinding the tape, I heard Tom’s message, beep and. . .“Calico Jack is ours. Keep your distance. One more throat—”

The hair on my neck stood at attention. In two years of following unfaithful spouses and searching for runaway children, I had been threatened by more than one hysterical person. This was different. Quiet, sincere threats are the ones that get carried out. This threat was direct, to the point, no rhetoric.

After a few moments, my brain began to function again. I had thought that the killings were the work of a psychopath with the delusion that he was Jack Rackham. But who was this woman? What did she mean by “ours”? Whose?

Rewinding the tape one more time, I tried to listen to the voice without hearing the words. It was an educated voice with near perfect diction. No detectable accent. The words were spaced evenly, deliberately, with no hesitation. I guessed she was young, maybe in her twenties.

I turned the thing off, thought for a while and came up with a handful of nothing. Enough for one night. I would call Tom in the morning when everything was a little calmer. I’d take the phone off the hook at home and get a little peace.

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