enemies sick—that’s a classic bokú technique.”
“ Bokú? ”
“ Bokú …they’re like hired sorcerers. Families in Haiti usually call them in when they want to cast a bad spell on somebody who’s hurt them or upset them. Or maybe they pay them to break a spell that somebody else has put on them . President François Duvalier used to use bokú all the time when he was running the country.”
Dan said, “You should have seen it. Well, to tell you the truth, you shouldn’t have seen it. It would have made you lose your Cheerios.”
“Do the media know about the toads in his stomach?”
“Not yet, but they’ve been going wild. Some of them are saying that it was an optical illusion or a magic trick. But most of them are saying it’s an act of God—you know, like the plague of locusts in the Bible, because Chief O’Malley is so intolerant toward ethnic minorities. He doesn’t think we should go easy on drug dealers when they happen to be Hispanic.”
Annie stacked jars of herbs in her pantry. “Pretty funny, isn’t it, how people are always ready to believe in religious miracles but not in witches?
“I tried to talk to Deputy Chief Days about it, but I didn’t get too far. I think he’s totally in denial.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t mention witches per se. I just said ‘unnatural forces.’”
“Not strictly true, really. More like natural forces. This Haitian woman is simply using the power of her magic to change the world around her. She didn’t create those toads, anymore than she created the quarters that you brought up. All she did was move them out of their swamp, or wherever they came from, and into Chief O’Malley’s stomach.”
“Like ‘beam me up, Scotty’?”
“In a way. Almost all witches can move objects or animals from one place to another. Some of them can even move them from one day to another, or one year to another. And they can move themselves, too—incredible distances, sometimes miles . That’s how witches got the reputation of being able to fly, even though they can’t.”
Dan said, “There’s something else. The doctor said that the toads in Chief O’Malley’s stomach had given off some kind of poison that might affect his brain.He said the chief might end up in a permanent state of terror.”
“Bufotenine,” said Annie. “That pretty much proves that your Haitian woman was responsible.”
“How come?”
“Bufotenine is what the voodoo houngan use to create zombies. They poison their victims with it so that it numbs their souls, and they have all the characteristics of being dead, even though they’re not. It also makes them frightened of everything and everyone, especially the houngan who created them.”
“Is there a cure?”
“Only one that I’ve ever heard of. Cut the victim’s head off.”
Chapter Ten
Dan slid a frozen pepperoni pizza in the oven, opened a bottle of stout, then heaved his damp laundry out of his washing machine. He went out onto the narrow balcony outside his living room and started to pin the laundry onto the makeshift clothesline he had fixed up—a sheet, a couple of pillowcases, three T-shirts, and five pairs of striped boxers.
He was just about to go back inside when he saw a pale shape flickering in the yard below under a wide-spreading fan palm. He went to the railing and peered downward, trying to make out what it was. He could see a light-colored triangle that could have been somebody’s shoulder, but the crisscross shadows of the palm fronds made it difficult for him to be sure.
“Anybody down there?” he called. If there was somebody there, he had no compunction about challenging them to show themselves. In the past two or three weeks there had been a rash of petty thefts along Franklin Avenue—bicycles, sunbeds, swimming-pool cleaners—mostly taken by crystal-meth addicts.
“I said, is anybody down there? Come out from under that tree and let’s take a look at
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