The Frenzy Way by Gregory Lamberson Read Free Book Online

European Influence on Native American Culture
. All out of print but available at NYU’s library.”
    “Don’t forget my favorite,” Willy said. “Transmogrification in Native American Mythology.”
    “You can get that here in the city,” Landry said, checking his notes. “At an occult bookstore downtown. Here it is: Synful Reading off St. Mark’s Place.”
    “Glenzer was an expert on this stuff,” Mace said. “But did he really believe in it? More important, did his killers? Or were they simply mocking him?”
    “Patty has six detectives standing by to help her and Willy run down Glenzer’s students and find out,” Landry said.
    “Double that number.”
    “What about the sword?”
    Mace eyed the weapon. “I’ll check into that myself.”
    Blank faces stared back at him.
    “Patty needs to concentrate on those students.”
    Landry spoke up first. “If it’s a question of manpower I could take it …”
    “It isn’t, and I want you in charge here. That ugly thing has piqued my curiosity, and I could use some fresh air.”
    Landry turned to Patty. “You were still at the crime scene when the press was admitted. How’d they react?”
    “Most of the mess had been cleaned up by the time we let them in, but the writing was still on the wall. They acted like a pack of jackals.”
    He gestured to the sword. “What about that?”
    “It’s our secret,” Mace said, his gaze roaming from face to face. “But those reporters use the same search engines we do. By this evening, half the city will at least know what a skinwalker is”.

CHAPTER SIX
    Standing in Father Hagen’s church office while the priest sat at his desk, Pedro held the telephone in one hand while he waited for the long-distance operator to connect his call. Father Hagen squirmed in his seat, and his fidgeting irritated Pedro. The ugly green roll-down rug and dusty bookshelves lacked the opulence Pedro had observed in churches throughout Italy, including the poorer ones. At last a male voice on the other end answered in Italian, and Pedro jammed a finger into his free ear to better hear him.
    “This is Pedro Fillipe,” he said in the man’s language. “I must speak to Monsignor Delecarte.” He felt Father Hagen’s eyes on him and sensed the priest’s frustration at being unable to follow the conversation.
    “The monsignor is resting.”
    “He’ll speak to me. Tell him, ‘The wolf is at the door.’”
    “One moment.”
    Several minutes passed before an aged voice came over the line. “Pedro?”
    “Forgive me for disturbing you, Monsignor. I arrived this morning, but the city isn’t what I expected.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m on Glenzer’s street now, but the gentleman you spoke of no longer lives here. His
salvation
is beyond our reach. Should we see a policeman?”
    A pause. “See no one for now. Relax, enjoy the city. I’ll contact you tomorrow with my recommendation.”
    “As you wish, Monsignor.”
    The line went dead, so Pedro returned the phone to its cradle.
    “What did he say?” Father Hagen said.
    “We wait.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Mace entered the Historical Weapons Museum, located in a four-story building on Museum Mile. It felt refreshing to be uptown, not far from his neighborhood, but the drive had been time consuming. Inside, he approached a young woman with strawberry blonde hair, standing behind a counter with a flat cash register. He supposed she was a college art history major, working as an intern or for minimum wage.
    “May I help you?” Her name tag said Becca.
    “I have an appointment with Bruce Janson,” Mace said.
    “Your name?”
    He told her.
    “One moment.” She picked up the house phone and said, “Captain Mace is here.” A moment later she hung up. “He’ll be down in a moment. You can look around while you wait.”
    “Thanks.” Despite Cheryl’s fondness for museums, he had never been to this one before, mainly because Cheryl’s fondness did not extend to deadly weapons. With a baby