by Clare Kauter
Henry nodded. “Right. So have you had any luck?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m trying to isolate the background noise in the audio to see if we can hear anything identifiable. A TV broadcast we can match up to a certain time or something. The problem is that they weren’t recording audio properly for these shots because they were just for montages, and the in-camera microphone they’ve used is crap.”
Henry nodded. “Right. Maybe I should have brought you a bigger coffee, then.”
I smiled at him before focusing my attention back on the computer. I pulled out the fuzzy extra noise, just leaving the small peaks that might have been something discernable. The trouble was that the louder I tried to make them, the more distorted they became. I gulped down some more coffee. It was delicious – Hell had all the best baristas – but right now I just needed the caffeine. I’d lost track of how many hours it had been since I’d last slept, and this kind of tedious work with its endless tweaking was much better suited to a fully awake person.
“Is there no way you could use your magic to help?” Henry asked.
I shook my head. “I already did that earlier.”
“Yes, but you focused on the video, right? Maybe you’ll be able to boost the audio the same way you did the picture.”
I considered it for a moment. “Maybe,” I said. “Worth a try, at least. This is useless.”
I took a deep breath and on my exhale channelled some of my energy into the computer. The audio changes rendered and played again for me. The file was still quiet, but I could hear things much more clearly now. I turned it up. There were footsteps, gravel crunching underfoot, and faint voices in the distance that were barely discernable. I shrugged and turned to Henry, but he was gone. I flicked my gaze around the room, eventually spotting a little bat hovering a few feet above my head.
“I hate flying,” said Henry. “Can you catch me? I don’t know how to land properly.”
Stifling a laugh, I grabbed bat Henry out of the air and sat him on my desk. “Why are you – oh, of course! Bat hearing! I’ll play it again.”
I moved to click play, but Henry screeched, “Turn it down first!”
I did as he asked and then hit play. As he listened I watched him, hoping to see some flicker of recognition cross his face. When the clip ended, he looked up at me. “Do you still have the file from the crime lab?”
I nodded and reached over to grab it from the other side of the desk. “What is it?” I asked.
“Can you check the estimated time of death?”
“Sure.” I scanned the file. “Due to the core body temperature of the corpse, taking into account the exsanguination, blah blah blah – estimated time of death is 7B.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Henry.
“So? What did you hear?”
“At the start of the clip, very quietly, you can hear the town bells in the background.”
“Yes?”
“It was 11B when they took the footage.”
I frowned. “Are you sure? That was just before –”
“Just before you found the body, yeah.”
We just looked at each other. “That doesn’t prove he’s innocent,” I said.
“No,” said Henry, “but it does cast some doubt on the situation.”
I sighed and groaned simultaneously, slouching down in my seat. Why hello, Square One. How nice to see you again.
“But he was acting so weird!” I whined.
Henry shrugged. “It’s Dick. He always acts weird. Besides, he was probably trying to save face. It doesn’t look good for an official to run away from a crime scene because he’s too scared to do anything about it.”
“How does he have a job?” I asked. “He literally fell into my pentagram yesterday. It was like he was trying to release that demon.”
“Now, now. Just because he’s looking less guilty in this case now, it doesn’t mean you should go around pinning other crimes on him,” Henry said. “The main thing he’s guilty of is incompetence.”
“But he’s so guilty of that. It should be a crime even if it isn’t.”
Henry smiled, then the expression abruptly faded into a frown with downcast eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to call the others. Tell them he might not be guilty.” He sighed. “And I’ll have to tell The Department, too.”
“Just before you do that,” I said, “can I get you to call the coroner?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I want to know if a centaur could have eaten those eyeballs out of Gnawlack’s skull. If so, we might still have a case.”
Henry nodded. “And if not, we need to free Dick.”
He placed the call, putting it on speakerphone so I could hear what the woman on the other end was saying.
“We just finished examining the nicks on the bone, actually,” she said. “I was just about to call you. The tooth marks we found were definitely canine. Probably wolf.”
I sunk back in my chair. Great. Dick was innocent. I was no longer free of him, and Henry’s job offer was probably going to be revoked any second. Not to mention that the psycho who was chasing me for my Doomstone – and possibly looking to make another human sacrifice – was still at large.
Henry sighed. “Right. Any chance of getting DNA from the wounds?”
“Well, that’s the odd thing. We’ve been trying to pull a sample, but there don’t seem to be any cheek cells or saliva. We’re still trying, though.”
“Thanks, June,” said Henry, hanging up and slouching down just like me.
“We just freed Dick, didn’t we?” I said.
“Yeah,” said Henry. “Looks that way.”
“You don’t have to call it in right now, do you?”
Henry sighed. “I can’t really afford to break the rules, I’m afraid. They’ll probably revoke the job offer over this screw up anyway, but I don’t want to give them any extra reason to jettison me.”
I sighed. Great. Dick was back.
Chapter Seventeen
The next day, Dick was back to his old tricks of following me everywhere, standing too close, and breathing. It was unbearable. At least I’d finally had a decent night’s sleep, I guess, but Dick being back in my space was going to drive me crazy. Or drive me to murder. I was regretting not using the full potential of my magic when I’d taken him out the day before. To pass the time, I liked to imagine that I could make Dick’s murder look like that other one, then when we caught the other killer they could take the blame for Dick’s death as well. I’d be doing the world a favour.
Even though he’d been cleared, I still didn’t trust him. Maybe that was just my intense hatred for him talking, but his interest in the Doomstone worried me. He clearly knew about the companion items, too. Although if Daisy and Hecate were using one to trace the Doomstone, maybe that was common knowledge. But when he’d mentioned the king…
I didn’t trust him. I just didn’t.
We were back in the marketing office – which had been cleaned up since yesterday’s incident – and we were back at work. Dick was gloating over the fact that he’d been right about the werewolf angle as well as taking every opportunity to make the others feel bad for throwing him in jail. He tried to make me feel bad too, but when it came to injuring Dick I honestly just didn’t care. Every time he attempted to guilt trip me, my plan for his murder grew more elaborate.
Dick hassled Henry one too many times and I snapped. (I didn’t, like, murder him, but I started visualising. I was on the brink.)
“Maybe when you start working for The Department again, Henry – oh, wait,” said Dick. “That’s not going to happen now, is it? It’s only people who didn’t deserve to get fired in the first place who get their jobs back.”
“Dick, given that you ran away screaming from a crime scene and then tried to steer the investigators away from legitimate leads to save yourself, I hardly think you’re a shining beacon of Departmental success,” I said.
“I didn’t run away screaming! I had to use the bathroom because somebody had cursed me with a urinary tract infection.”
“Even if anyone believes that story, Dick, if Satan reports you for setting a demon loose on a bunch of tourists, how do you think that’s going to go down with your bosses?”
He paled noticeably. “I think that’s going to end with you in prison for murder.”
“No, it’s going to end with me getting a medal for bravery and you getting fired for incompetence and reckless endangerment,” I replied. “Oh, and there will probably be some questions raised about why the unlicensed person you were meant to be supervising had to save the tourists while you sat back, screaming.”
“I – I –”
“Just shut your face, Dick. And also your dick face.”
Henry was fighting back a smile as he studiously flicked through the lab report, pretending not to listen. I stood from my desk.
“Where are you going?” Dick demanded.
“Back to the pub!” I said. “I’m going to have a nap and hang out in my room because it’s the only place I can seem to escape from you!”
I stormed out, Dick cantering along behind me all the way back to my room. I slammed the door behind me, locked it and barricaded it with my bed. In the course of the investigation it had come out that while I was staying here, Dick had gotten himself a room in one of the upmarket hotels on the beachfront and just pretended he was staying here so his bosses wouldn’t know that he was leaving me unsupervised. When he’d been reinstated, they’d soon put a stop to that and now he was forced to stay in the room next door. That meant that if I went out, I’d pass his room and he’d know.
At least, if I went out through the door.
At first I considered turning my bed sheets into a rope, but that would leave pretty clear evidence of my escape, and also I wasn’t quite sure how to tie strong enough knots. Instead I decided to turn myself into a magical Spiderman and use my powers to take me down the side of the building safely. My window looked out onto an abandoned alley, so I wasn’t worried about being seen. I simply placed my hands on the windowsill, hoiked one leg over, then sent out jets of energy from each hand to cling to the windowsill and pulled my other leg over.
In my head I imagined I was going to look really cool doing this, like I was magically abseiling down the side of the building. In reality, I was hanging limply by my hands, both arms stretched to breaking point above me from the strain of my own weight. I swung back and forth and my face slapped into the wall three times on my slow descent. When I reached the bottom and broke my link with the windowsill, I decided that before the next time I did that, I really needed to figure out a better strategy.
After weaving my way through town, I climbed the steps to the library’s entrance and continued through the building until I reached the portrait passageway. When I reached the top of the staircase, I found Ed still sitting there, reading through books.
“You’ve been gone a while,” he commented. “Things going well with Henry?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard the news.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “What’s happened?”
I explained what we’d found on the video and that Dick had been released as a result. “Sorry I didn’t come and tell you,” I said. “I just haven’t had any time alone. Dick’s back in full force, scrutinising my every move. I had to climb out a window to escape so I could come and help you.” I paused, looking at the mountains of books on the table. “Have you been here researching this whole time?”
He nodded.
“Find anything interesting?”
He shrugged. “I found a bunch of books that contain no useful information whatsoever.”
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “I seem to remember you telling me that once before.”
Last time Ed had helped me research the Doomstone, he’d hidden all the useful books from me so that I wouldn’t find it before he wanted me to. Then when I did find it, he’d stolen it from me. I didn’t know why he’d want to double-cross me this time, but I certainly wasn’t above suspecting him of lying to me.
“You’re welcome to look through them,” he said, gesturing to the pile on the table. “Bit of a waste of time, though.”
“You haven’t found any mention of this Damnation thing?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing we don’t already know about the Doomstone or companion objects or Damnation or anything.”
“Have you found anything about the ritual?”
“I haven’t gotten to the spell books yet,” he said. “I’ve been focusing on the reference books. You’re better with spells than I am, anyway. It’s probably better if you search for the ritual.”
I nodded. Ed had been raised non-magical, and although he’d cast a couple of spells in his time, he’d had to use cones to do so. (Cones are contained spells, bound in what looks like an incense cone. Ed had stolen a bunch from Hecate’s police station after she’d raided a cone lab, and to be honest I was lucky he’d taken them otherwise everyone would know I was a murderer. Unbeknownst to me, Ed had clouded their memories to protect me so that I could get the Doomstone for him.) Now that Ed was a ghost he had some powers, but I was more knowledgeable about the practical use of magic, even if he knew more about sacred objects like the Doomstone.
I’d barely begun to gather books when my mobile began to ring. I checked the readout – Satan.
“Hello?”
“Hello, darling. Fancy coming around for dinner?”
I narrowed my eyes. This couldn’t be good. “Why?”
She laughed. “Does there have to be a reason? Please, just come around. Have a decent meal for once. I can hardly imagine the food at that pub is anything to rave about.”
She was right about that. Last night at the pub, the only dinner they were serving had been porridge. Just plain oats cooked in water – not even any sugar or anything. The night before had been home brand tinned spaghetti and crackers.
“Yeah, it’s not exactly a gastro pub,” I agreed. “OK. When would you like me there?”
“Ten minutes. Don’t be late.” She hung up.
I rolled my eyes at the phone. Of course she would only give me ten minutes’ warning.
“I have to go again,” I said, turning to Ed.
He half smiled. “Of course you do.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Satan calls.”
“Best not to ignore it when the devil summons you.”
“Exactly.”
He nodded. “I guess I’ll see you back here next time you can be bothered to help me.”
“It’s not my fault that –” I stopped, catching his grin. “Right. You’re teasing me. Well, you have fun here with these musty old books while I go and eat a meal cooked by Satan’s personal chef.”
I arrived at Satan’s mansion exactly eleven minutes later.
“You’re late,” said Butler. “Mistress Satan won’t be happy with you. The others are already here.”
“Others?”
I had assumed it would just be me having dinner with my old pal the devil. I hadn’t realised it was a party.
“Follow me,” said Butler, floating up the hall towards the dining room.
When we entered, I found Henry, Hecate, Daisy and Dick sitting around the table with Satan sitting at the head.
“About time,” she growled, gesturing to an empty chair. I sat quickly. Satan was annoyed. She’d lured me here with food, but she was clearly angry about something. It was a trap!
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be a full minute late.”
“I should hope not,” said Satan. “Now, I imagine you all know why you’re here.”
“Dinner?” I suggested. I was still holding out hope. Satan shot me an icy glare, which somewhat ironically made the fire in the corner of the room flare and crackle loudly.
“Not dinner,” I concluded. I noticed Dick glaring at me across the table and bit m
y lip. He’d probably realised by now that I’d managed to escape the hotel room without him noticing. I wondered if I was in trouble or if he’d be too worried to tell anyone in case it made him seem even more incompetent.
No one else seemed inclined to answer Satan’s question, so I tried again. My eyes locked on Dick and it clicked.
“Right,” I said. “You’re pissed that we haven’t found the murderer yet.”
“I would like an update,” said Satan, in a tone that would better suit the sentence I would like to murder you all. “What exactly have you been doing all day? We need to wrap this case up immediately.”
“We – we’ve been in the office all day, Your Majesty,” said Hecate. Ten points to her for sucking up to Satan. A bit more of that and maybe she wouldn’t scalp any of us.
“Going through the reports again,” added Henry.
“And making notes of any anomalies we found,” said Daisy.
“Interviewing any suspects we came up with,” said Hecate.
“And I’ve been babysitting Nessa,” said Dick.
“Is that so?” asked Satan, rounding on Dick. “And where, pray tell, has she been all afternoon?”
“In – in her room. At the pub.”
“Is that so?” Satan turned to me. “Doing nothing to help the case whatsoever?”
“You know me better than that,” I said.
Satan squinted at me, as if trying to figure out what I meant. “So what have you been doing?”
“Research,” I said. Clearly she hadn’t been keeping tabs on me today or she would have known exactly where I’d been. Perhaps the stress was messing with her abilities.
“Research?” she repeated slowly.
I nodded. She knew where I’d been.
“And?”
I shook my head. “Nothing much yet, but we’re getting close.”
“We?”
My heart thumped in my chest. Oops. Probably shouldn’t blab about Ed helping me out with my research. Not only was he wanted by The Department, but he was also far from Satan’s favourite dead guy.
