Chapter 15: The case concluded

I made my way back to the Jennings home, thinking that by laying a geas on Frederick's brother, he would not be able to interfere with our treatment of Frederick. My next problem was to consider how I might nullify the geas that Sean had laid on Frederick. I had never tried before to cancel out another Sorcerer's spell. I wasn't even sure that I could do it. Ah, well. I would know, tomorrow.

The following morning, I collected the Healer Atkinson and we proceeded to the home of Frederick McCarthy. As we approached the house, we could sense a degree of despair. Mentally, I reached out. As I had half expected, the person I sensed was Goodman McCarthy. I sensed that he was holding a hand gun and was staring at it. His mind was contemplating suicide.

The Healer and I hurried to the front door. It was locked, chained and bolted. I concentrated and we heard the rattle of a chain as it withdrew. That was followed by the clank of the bolt and the click of the lock opening. We opened the door and rushed in. McCarthy was sitting there with his gun in his hand, a large drink on the table next to him and tears dripping down his face.

"Mac ... MacLeod? What are you doing here. I thought the front door was locked."

His voice was slurred.

I reached for his hand and relieved it of the gun. Healer Atkinson stood in front of the man.

"McCarthy. McCarthy! Pay attention! Now, look at me. Watch my finger." The finger slowly approached McCarthy's face. "You feel sleepy. You're drifting off. Your eyes are closing."

As McCarthy watched the finger approaching his face, his eyes responded by going cross-eyed. They closed in self-defense as they were told to. His body relaxed as the low-voiced instructions to relax and to sleep took effect.

The Healer told him that he was going deeper and deeper into a trance, repeating himself over and over again. Standing behind McCarthy, I silently indicated that the Healer should ask him about the gun.

"Goodman McCarthy. Open your eyes. Tell me why you were holding the gun?"

"I was going to shoot myself." came the reply, so softly that we had to strain to hear it.

"And why were you going to shoot yourself?"

"My life is over. I have nothing to live for. My wife has left me. Since MacLeod canceled my Talent, I can not function properly. Why should I live?"

"Didn't Agent MacLeod promise that your Talent could be regained?"

"Yes, if I could only gain the forgiveness of my victims, but that's impossible. One of them committed suicide. In any case, If I did get their forgiveness, my brother would enchant me again."

"Agent MacLeod has nullified your brother's Talent as well. He can't affect you again."

"But I cant live without my wife. I've abused her and she's left me. What can I do?"

"Repent. She still loves you."

"Does she?"

"Yes. She is only waiting to hear that you've changed for the better before coming home. She still loves you."

This seemed to calm McCarthy and the continuous drone of the Healer's voice and his own muttered replies gradually got quieter. Finally the healer turned to me.

"I think that's about all I can do for him, for now. Shall I wake him?"

"Yes. There's a few practical issues that need to be addressed and It's probably better if he he is fully conscious to discuss them."

The Healer then began to bring his patient back from his deep trance, having instructed him that if the Healer snapped his fingers, McCarthy would resume the trance state.

Goodman McCarthy opened his eyes, shook his head, and looked about him. By the time that he registered our presence, I had latched on to his thoughts. He seemed somewhat bewildered, but there was no trace of the evil thoughts, that there had been. Perhaps the loss of his brother's Talent had released him from Sean's geas on him. I thought that we had cracked the case.

We discussed with McCarthy what he had to do in order to compensate for the evil that he had wrought. There were a number of sums of money that he had extorted from his blackmail victims, which needed to be returned. His presentation of himself as a political figure had to be revised, to show a more caring attitude. He had to present himself as a more caring employer to his workforce; and, finally, he had to show his wife how much he cared for her.

While Healer Atkinson continued treating Goodman McCarthy, I used the teleson to contact Mistress McCarthy to tell her of her husband's change of heart, and his love and need for her. She agreed to return home at once, thanking me for dealing with her husband's problem.

Goodman McCarthy said that he found the house to be claustrophobic, and suggested that as the day was fine, we could adjourn to the garden.

The patio at the rear of the house was sheltered by the presence of the stable. I should, perhaps, say that there was no siding on the walls of concrete blocks. It put me in mind of the saying; 'the worst shod children were those of the cobbler'.

We were discussing Goodman McCarthy's political ideas, when all of sudden there was a commotion from the far side of the stable. Sean McCarthy appeared brandishing a pistol.

"You! MacLeod!" he shouted. "did you do anything to my Talent?"

"Why, yes. I had to stop you affecting your brother. Why?"

"A protection scheme of mine. It went wrong. The mark called the police. They're after me, now. Give me back my Talent, or I'll kill you!"

He was waving his pistol around and I thought it was time to raise protective wards about the three of us as we stood in front of him. I was just in time. He raised his pistol and fired. Much to my surprise he collapsed with blood slowly pouring out of his side. As he collapsed his pistol dropped from his hand. I canceled the wards and moved to kick the pistol away from him. Healer Atkinson moved forward to stem the bleeding.

As I bent to examine the pistol, a voice rang out behind me.

"Don't touch the gun. Stand up and move back slowly. Then give me your gun."

Sean was right about the police being close behind him!

"I don't have a gun. I am a Special Agent of the New England Bureau of Investigation. Let me show you my credentials."