Page 65
Story: Corpse at Captain's Seat
“No. But I’m happy to lend an ear.”
“No worries. You can keep your body parts intact.” She intended it for a joke, but he could read the irritation in her eyes.
Chelsea folded her arms and stared at the fire.
Ellery stroked Watson’s silky head, said, “Did I miss something? Why the jokes about Lenny and witchcraft?”
Chelsea seemed taken aback. “You don’t remember all that occult garbage back at Tisch?”
“I remember she used to tell our fortunes with tarot cards.” He smiled faintly. He was pretty sure not a single one of Lenny’s predictions had come true.
“It was a lot more than tarot cards. She tried to conjure a demon once.”
“Say what?”
“You don’t remember when she and Brandon tried to conjure whatever his name was? Leonard, I think.”
“Brandon?MyBrandon? Tried to conjure a demon namedLeonard?” He was momentarily distracted. “I thought demons were all named stuff like Moloch and Baal?”
Chelsea shrugged. “This one was named Leonard. Or maybe it was Leopold? I forget what his thing was. The great Lord of the Fly, maybe?”
“Lord of theFly,” Ellery repeated. “Fly as in insects that buzz around and get on your food? Or fly as in the opening in a pair of jeans?”
“No clue. All I know is they nearly set the dorm on fire.”
“I don’t remember this at all.”
“It might have been one of the weekends you went home. Anyway, I think she outgrew it. Although she still wears that little star pendant.”
“Yeah, but lots of people wear pentagrams who aren’t trying to summon the Lord of the Flies.”
Chelsea shrugged, glanced at the clock on the fireplace. He could feel her rising impatience.
Ellery nodded at the fireplace, half rose and said, “I’m just going to put another log on.”
As he’d hoped, that was the last straw.
Chelsea let out an exasperated breath. “Not on my account. I’m going up.”
“Oh? Are you?”
“Yes.” She rose.
“Okay. Well, good night. Sleep well.”
“Night,” she said tersely.
He waited until her footsteps had faded, then he asked Watson if he wanted to go outside.
Watson gave him a look of utter disbelief, and settled more comfortably on the sofa.
Ellery chuckled. “Okay. Suits me. Bed time?”
Nowhe was talking.
Watson sprang from the couch, leading the way down the dark hallway, galloping up the staircase, two steps at a time, and racing into Ellery’s bedroom. His moonlit shadow leaped onto the bed, waiting until Ellery pulled the comforter back, and burrowed beneath.
Ellery washed up by the light of his flashlight and joined Watson shortly after.
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