There was a startled silence.
“You got the monkey back?”
“Yup. He’s playing on the…”
No, in fact he wasn’t playing on the couch. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Matt?”
“Um, I’ll call you back.” I hung up before she could yell at me. “Marcel!”
No answer.
“Marcel? Come on, boy. Come here, little monkey.”
Nothing.
Then…
Sue’s scream crashed through the morning like an air raid alarm.
There’s a five foot fence between our properties. I scaled it with only a bit of scrabbling, but I dropped into their yard in time to see Marcel scurrying up a pole on their veranda, Charles chasing him with a broom. Sue stood in the middle of the yard, hand clutching her chest as she caught her breath. For a moment, I thought she was in pain, then I realised she was laughing.
Marcel raced along the awning, two steps ahead of a cursing Charles doing a passable Don Quixote impersonation. The monkey chattered and chirped at him, as if in encouragement.
Since Marcel didn’t seem to be in any sort of danger, I joined Sue.
“Your monkey?” she asked between giggles.
“Sort of. Just looking after him for someone.”
“He’s adorable. Just startled me, that’s all.”
“Yeah, he does that.” I raised my voice. “Marcel, stop bothering the man.”
Monkey and man both stopped and looked at me. Marcel’s eyes widened and he bared his teeth. Charles just scowled.
“Is this your thing, Hawkins?” he demanded.
“He’s a monkey, Charlie,” Sue said, snickering. “Not a thing. Who’s a cutie?” She directed that at Marcel, not Charles.
Marcel knew when he was being adored. He bounced on the spot and turned his head upside down, looking for more love. Sue gave it to him. She hurried over and he launched himself happily into her arms.
“What the hell are you doing with a monkey?” Charles asked me, part angry, part perplexed, part worried as he watched his wife cradle the monkey like a baby.
Over the fence, I could hear my phone jangling away. Undoubtedly it was Erin, probably frothing to ask the same question.
“It’s just part of a job,” I told him. “He’ll go back to his owner today.”
“Charlie,” Sue called while Marcel scampered around her shoulders, “I want a—”
“Don’t say it,” Charles warned.
She poked her tongue out at him and said, “I want a monkey. He’s so cute.”
“Don’t get attached. It’s going away, right now.”
Sue made some joke protests but let Marcel jump back to me. He settled on my shoulders as I left, via the gate, thank you very much, and waved at Sue.
Of course, I then had to scale my own fence to get back inside my house.
I closed the door so Marcel couldn’t escape again and called Erin back.
“How did you get the monkey?” she demanded.
“I’ll tell you when I get in. I assume I’m picking up Dev for another day of fun and mutant rodents?” Ugh.
“Yes, but come here first. I think we should talk.”
I agreed warily, hung up and then made the slow realisation I would have to take the Monster Mobile. Marcel had been calm enough on the bike last night, but he was awake and hyper now, and I was pretty sure Dev wouldn’t want to wear the pink helmet.
Resigned to getting stopped by the cops, I loaded Marcel into the car and headed out.
The phone rang just as I was hitting the freeway.
“Night Call, how may I direct your call?”
“Yes, I’d like to talk to the head of the transport department, please.”
I winced. “Hi, Roberts. How’s tricks?”
“Oh, you know, you agree to lend your work car to a mate for a couple of days and then, low and behold, hear on the news about a car matching that description smashing its way through Coorparoo yesterday.”
Spluttering, I said, “Agreed to lend it to me? Dude, you’re the one who wanted my car. How’s that going by the way? She tired of you yet, or is she just hanging around for the sexy car?”
Well, yes, it was a bit low, but as far as topic changers went, it was all I had.
Roberts grunted. “She’s still around.”
Hmm, that didn’t sound so positive. “But…?” I put a sympathetic tone on it.
“Mate, she’s annoying. Only talks about the bloody car. I mean, it’s just a Monaro.”
My eyes narrowed. “Just a Monaro?”
“Well, it’s how old now? It doesn’t have Bluetooth, or satnav. It doesn’t even charge a phone.”
“Because it’s a car,” I said slowly and patiently. “Not a bloody info-tainment system.”
“And speaking of cars, was that you bowling for buses yesterday?”
I ground my teeth against the need to answer, then blurted out, “I know a really good panel beater. You won’t even know there was any damage.”
Before Roberts could start yelling, Marcel came bounding over from the back and chattered at me insistently.
When the monkey had finished his report about his cargo-area exploration, there was a long silence, then Roberts said, “What was that?”
“Um, the radio?”
“Try again, Matthew.”
Sheesh. When he trotted out my full name I was in trouble. “It’s a monkey.”
“There’s a monkey in my car?”
“He’s only small. Hardly there at all.” And chose that moment to bounce onto my lap. “Shit, get off, Marcel. Down, monkey, down!”
“Hawkins! Don’t you crash my car more than you already have!”
It didn’t get much better after that.
Chapter 27
It was a miracle, but I got into the office without crashing. I wrestled the excited monkey into my jacket again for the trip up to the twelfth floor, but he burst out with a loud squeal as soon as I was through the door to Sol Investigations.
Erin, talking with a stout, middle-aged woman, stared in disbelief as Marcel scampered over Ivan’s desk, bounced to the couch and ran to the table with the coffee machine. The other woman gave her own squeal and scurried behind Erin for protection.
“Sorry,” I said in a singsong voice. “He’s a bit happy to be out of the car. Marcel! Come on, back here.” I patted my shoulder.
Marcel sat by the coffee machine and looked at me curiously, like I was speaking a language he didn’t understand. He picked up a coffee cup and put it upside down on his head, grinning at the ladies.
“What is it?” the older woman asked, horrified.
“It’s a squirrel monkey,” Erin explained calmly, looking at Marcel like he was a problematic child. “Just part of another case I’m working at the moment. He won’t hurt you.”
“He might run up your leg, but he’s just playing with you,” I cautioned, and sidled over to Marcel like I was casually after a coffee.
The monkey watched me come and held out the mug he’d used as a hat.
“Thank you,” I said gravely and took it. Once he’d handed it over, Marcel scrambled up my arm and sat on my shoulder, only to start picking through my hair again. “I’ll go into the office, shall I?” I offered, keeping one hand on Marcel so he didn’t take off again.
“Please,” Erin said, closing the door to her office behind us.
Marcel immediately bounded off to explore.
Erin’s meeting didn’t take much longer. By the expression on their faces when the woman left, I couldn’t tell if it had ended well or not.
Coming into her office with a sigh, Erin looked at Marcel rummaging through her bin, then at me. “Explain.”
She laughed, she sighed, she looked like she might cry and at the end, she just contemplated Marcel with a small frown. “How did he get separated from the others, then?”
“No idea. Feeble wasn’t in any condition to talk last night, and Merce wasn’t really in th
e state to ask. I know where they live now, so I can try to talk to her again.”
Marcel, realising he was the centre of attention, turned his head upside down. He was apparently a one-trick monkey.
“I’ll call Thistlethwaite and let him know,” she said as the monkey bounced over and waited politely for her to nod at him. Then he scampered up her leg, over her arm and to her shoulders. “I suppose he is rather cute.”
Between the monkey and Texan sorcerer, I was plum outa.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked as she sat at the desk.
Marcel leaned down, his tail around her neck for stability, and grabbed up a pen.
“No,” Erin said, taking it off him. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
He agreed and picked up a stapler instead. Which got taken off him because he might staple himself to something important. He tried for her coffee mug, which she moved out of his reach. In the end, she gave him a pad of post-it notes. He scampered off to discover the thrill of sticky paper.
“He’ll give himself paper cuts,” I warned.
Erin gave me a pained look. “I wanted to let you know what happened last night. I don’t think Dev will be forward about it, and it might be important.”
As a cop and then a PI, Erin had developed a very good memory and she pretty much repeated the entire meeting between Dev and Kermit verbatim.
“Wow. So there is real history there.” I sat back in the chair, thinking it over.
“Not personal history, no, even though Kermit seemed to know about Dev’s family. Both parties clearly feel very passionately about whatever it is. I had to threaten to shoot one or both of them before they would stop.”
“Kermit’s never mentioned anything about it, but then, I didn’t really know about sorcerers until yesterday. You said he did agree to help though.”
Marcel came back, papers stuck all over his body. He settled quietly on the arm of my chair and began grooming himself. The post-it notes stuck to his fingers when he tried to pick them off.
“He should have more locations for you to check by tonight. You or I will have to go see him, though. He won’t talk with Dev there. Kermit also made taunts about Dev’s mental capacity,” Erin reminded me. “It really riled him up. Any idea?”
“Not really. You said he mentioned all sorcerers going crazy?”
She nodded. “It might have been an exaggeration, though. Kermit was pretty angry. Be prepared for some yelling when you talk to him next.”
“I can account for one psycho sorcerer, at least.” I could still feel all those tiny—um, no, not so tiny—claws on my skin, hear their squeaks and smell the rot. “And strangely, Kermit hasn’t called to express his disappointment in me yet.”
Erin sucked in a sharp breath, catching Marcel’s attention. He looked up, tilted his head, but went back to grooming his belly rather than bounce on her.
“What?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Well, I haven’t finished telling you everything. We were leaving and I happened to mention Kermit’s real name was Afzal.”
My guts twisted, not liking the implications of her tone. “And?”
“Dev nearly lost it. He started yelling at Kermit, calling him a murderer and how something called the Council would be very keen to hear that Afzal had been found after all these centuries.” Erin’s eyes widened. “Centuries,” she repeated, just in case I missed it.
“Shit. That doesn’t sound good, does it. What happened then?”
“Kermit disappeared into the ground so fast I barely saw him do it. Dev ranted at the ground for a while, then went suddenly calm. After a minute, he asked to be taken to a hotel.” Erin frowned. “I’ve never seen anyone flip emotions like that so quickly. Well, except you, but you have Mercy to cause it.”
“I noticed it yesterday,” I said softly. “He goes from hot to cold at the drop of a hat. I think there’s severe trauma in his past.” Only feeling a little guilty, I told her about the burns and his reaction to the fire.
Erin nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
We contemplated that in silence for a bit, then I decided to be a real bastard.
“So, do you have any resources in America?” I asked quietly.
Taking a deep breath, Erin contemplated her blank computer screen for a long moment. “I do.” Then, “I’ve already been in touch with them.”
I sat back, startled. “About Dev?”
Erin nodded gravely. “Remember when you introduced him yesterday and then asked me why I reacted as I did?”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Leaning forward, I said, “You know something.”
“Honestly, I really don’t. It was just that the night before, my… I got a call from someone. They told me to watch out for a Randy Devantier. That he was possibly coming here and that if he did, he would probably cross my path.”
“Who was it?” She’d clearly changed what she was going to say.
Meeting my eyes, she said, calmly, “I can’t tell you.”
Translation, ‘I won’t tell you.’ But the look in her eyes said now wasn’t the time to push. Later maybe, when she’d come to grips with it herself, or got to the point where she couldn’t deal with it on her own. Erin was nothing if not stubborn.
“Okay,” I conceded. “So that made you look into him already. Found anything?”
Still eyeing me in case I sprang a surprise interrogation on her, Erin said, “Just the basics.”
She ran me through an outline of Dev’s childhood. Orphaned wasn’t great, but considering he’d made it through to uni spoke of some stability. Then nothing. Probably when the sorcery took over his life.
“He mention a sister to you?” Erin asked.
“Nope, but we didn’t really get into any deep and meaningfuls yesterday. Bit of shop talk, mostly. I’d say he began working contracts for the Council after uni, hence the lack of public records. Is that as far as you can get with looking into him?”
“No. I have the feelers out with a couple of independent investigators I know over there. Hopefully they’ll get back to me today or tonight with something more solid.” She sat back and sighed heavily. “I like what I’ve seen of him, Matt. He seems like a decent person and I feel a bit rotten for doing this behind his back, but…”
“Yeah, I know. But when you’re given forewarning about someone, it’s hard not to wonder. There is something traumatic behind him. From what he’s said, working for the Council is just like any other sort of job. But what he’s said about the fire sorcerer who burned him, it was personal. Intensely personal.”
“Revenge?”
I shrugged. “Possibly. If I get a chance, I’ll try to bring up family and stuff today. From the sounds of it, Kermit might know something, as well. I’ll ask him tonight when I go for the other information.” Sagging in the chair, I muttered, “Shit. This is turning into a right mess. Remind me to never answer the phone to Aurum again.”
Erin snorted.
Having plotted about an associate behind his back, there was not much else to do or say, so I left. Marcel kicked up a bit of a stink but I got out of there without a monkey attached to my head. Barely.
On the way down to the car, I called Kermit, knowing he wouldn’t answer.
“Hey, just checking in. Sorry I sent a sorcerer to you, didn’t know all about the feud. Call me as soon as you get this.”
Once upon a not so long ago time, I wouldn’t have cared about upsetting a ghoul, but Kermit has his uses and it was good business to keep him happy. That, and he was kinda okay and probably didn’t deserve to be hauled off before a firing squad without telling his side of the story first.
Of course, his silence did make me wonder if Dev had already called in a strike squad of ghoul wranglers and carted him off already.
Dev’s hotel was in the inner city and as I pulled into the drive, I realised I didn’t have a number to contact him on. Earning an evil eye from the valet, I parked in the drop off/pick up zone and got out.
“Won’t be long,” I muttered as I passed him.
He just sniffed and looked at the battle-scarred leviathan, shaking his head.
Inside, it was swish with a capital OMG. Sorcery must pay well. Under the heavy presence of a crystal chandelier, me and it reflected in a precisely clean marble floor, I stopped at the concierge desk and asked after Randy Devantier.
Before the woman could offer to call his room, I heard my name called in a Texan twang.
Dev strode across the foyer, looking like he’d got more sleep than I had in the last week. Tall, lanky and if not actually smiling, then at least with an expression that said one charming grin was imminent. It burst out as he stopped beside me, asking the concierge to see that he got more of that Bundaberg Rum in his room. The accent poured out so thick he may as well have been speaking that gibberish he used to do a trick. She, for a change, didn’t swoon. Much.
On the way to the car, I asked, “Did you find your suitcase?”
Dev ignored the question, head bowed, brows furrowed.
I snapped my fingers in front of him. “Earth to Randy. You in there, mate?”
He looked over at me. “Sorry, did I miss something?”
“Yeah, just about everything. You okay?”
With a rueful smile and nod, he said, “I’m fine. Just a bit distracted this morning.”
With planning a strike against Kermit?
I didn’t feel now was the right time for that discussion, so I asked, again, “Did you find your suitcase?”
“No. Since you decided to sleep in, I went shopping this morning.”
Yeah, he did. New t-shirt with no incriminating logos and a long-sleeved, dark-blue cotton, button-up shirt over the top, left open. Much cooler than his jacket but still concealing his burns.
“Sleep in? I didn’t get home till dawn,” I told him dryly. “Erin said you guys finished up pretty early.”
He shot me a suspicious look as we reached the car. “You’ve spoken with Erin already?”
“Well, I didn’t divine your hotel from some chicken entrails. I had to drop off the monkey, so we caught up this morning.”
“The same monkey that girl had?”
I gave him a brief rundown of my activities of the previous night, leaving out the vampiric parts. Knowing now how Dev felt about ghouls made me hold back on that gem. He seemed to accept Mercy was psychic as well and didn’t ask any questions.
Night Call (Book 3): Rock Paper Sorcery Page 20
