The Warlock Weapon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 7)

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The Warlock Weapon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 7) Page 10

by Pearl Goodfellow


  “Zinnie’s brother,” I finished, putting a hand to my throat.

  Well, well, well.

  “Your powers of deduction are dazzling,” Fearwyn said.

  “He changed his name? From Bloodstag to Darkmore?”

  Portia shrugged. “It’s not hard to do.”

  “So, being a Warlock is in his blood,” I mused. “What part of the munitions process is Darkmore involved with?”

  “We don’t know the ‘ingredient’ he’s supplying. “But, we suspect it’s hematite. Which is a known Warlock --”

  “I know. It’s come up a few times today, already.” I felt a familiar tingle travel through my nerves. Were we close to something?

  “Well, if that’s it, I’ll be on my way, so--”

  “But, why did you come here, lady?” Midnight challenged, sniffing around Portia’s dusty boots. The Witch Fearwyn shooed my cat away with a flick of her foot.

  “I came because I was needed,” she said as if it was obvious as to why she breezed in at the exact moment she did. “Now, if there’s nothing further--”

  “Portia, wait,” I said leaning across the counter to grab her arm. I explained about the Warlock device at the station and how Talisman was on their way to claim it.

  The witch waited patiently, not blinking once until I finished.

  “I can do nothing about that,” she said.

  “Wha-, wait, what?” My eyebrows shot upward.

  “You heard me. This is not under my jurisdiction. There are many strings I can pull in the capital, but the first layer of the defense department, I cannot.”

  “But, we need to see what’s inside that weapon,” I pleaded. “If there’s any metallic, Warlock signature. Which we believe there will be. Orville Nugget needs to see it, and if he can’t get his hands on it, then, well, we won’t know where the threat is coming from.”

  Portia blinked at me. “Why did your fool boyfriend allow the drifter to leave?”

  I folded my arms. “The CHIEF Para Inspector had the man swabbed for explosives residue,” I said. “Besides, Jyldrar was nowhere near the blast when it happened. And, the CHIEF’s men checked within a mile radius of where Typhon was standing, and, nothing.”

  “This is the reason I’m unsure as to whether CPI Trew is a good fit for the Custodians,” she said, her lips in a straight, thin line. “If he only shared his intended movements with us, then we might have already asked the drifter some pertinent questions.”

  “Like?”

  “Like, is Typhon Jyldrar knows how to speak the Lost Language.”

  I raised my eyebrows at the old crone.

  “It’s an ancient Warlock incantation. Powerful enough to trip a switch on a device, even at great distances.” Portia crossed her arms in front of her too.

  “Well, as we’re about to lose the gadget in question, I guess whether it was activated by the Lost Language or not, is merely by the by now,” I said, hotly.

  “As I said, nothing I can say or do will make a difference. We will have to drop that thread of investigation.” She didn’t let me say anything else because she was already walking toward the door.

  She turned on her heel at the last moment. “Tell the inspector that we need to have a meeting. The Custodians. Kitties, are you getting this? We need to meet and discuss what progress has been made at the bell, and what Shields’ men are up to on Cathedral. There’s much going on, and, now, more than ever, we can’t afford to rest on our laurels.”

  The door opened and closed in a flash, and Portia was gone.

  “Well, I guess that saved you a broom ride, huh, boss lady?” Shade said.

  “Yeah.” I was still trying to process everything that we’d just heard and seen.

  Millie broke the spell. “You should go, Hattie. I’ll take care of things here. You need to get to the station, help the chief out if you can. I know we just heard a lot of stuff that you’ll need to ponder, but you need to go and help your man.”

  I bobbed my head. “You’re right,” I said, grabbing my bag. “Kitties, you be good for Millie. You too, Jetpack.” I looked directly at my zippy kitty who was, even now, inching his way along the shelves toward the catnip jar.

  “You know me, boss, yep,” he beeped.

  With that, I set off, on foot, for GIPPD. To assist my friend in any way I could.

  Although, I wasn’t sure what ‘way’ that would be

  Chapter Ten

  I wasn’t expecting the kerfuffle that had broken out around Desk Sergeant Spinefield’s desk as I pushed through the grimy glass doors of Gless Inlet Para Police Department.

  I saw several blandly dressed men in gray flannel suits making phone calls, relaying frustrated remarks to unseen ‘superiors’ on the other end of their lines. One of the suits had his hand under Spinefield’s nose, displaying an official badge of some kind. While still others rustled government release papers under the desk sergeant’s chin. Spinefield was red faced, sweaty, and looking more than a little frazzled.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I have to wait for the chief. He’s the one that has to sign off on this,” he tried. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead.

  I scanned the room looking for David, but couldn’t see my friend amid the jumble of official bodies, so I stepped closer until I was at the edge of the foray. I wanted to help Spinefield, but I had no business interfering. Goddess, these suits were annoying, though.

  CPI Trew stepped through the locked door from the back of the station, Eve Fernacre at his side. Eve held an evidence bag at her side. She stared at the commotion in wide-eyed surprise. David glanced at me, and I shook my head to let him know that Portia didn’t come through for us.

  He ushered Eve forward. “Gentlemen, thanks so much for your patience,” he said to his sneering audience. “Eve here has the artifact you’re after. Eve?” The chief spun toward Fernacre, and the woman held out the bag. A suited gray arm snatched the baggie from the CPI's assistant, and a wave of jeers greeted the transaction.

  We were about to lose the one piece of evidence we could have really done with taking a closer look at. I guess we were too slow off the mark. But, we were stretched so thin as it was, it wasn’t a surprise that we were losing a thread of the investigation just because we weren’t able to attend to matters sooner.

  I felt a nudge on my back and turned to see a radiant Carpathia Alecto. Her lips, painted a dark, glistening red, parted in an alluring smile, revealing a set of slick white teeth. Her flawlessly pale skin shimmered under the fluorescent lights of the station.

  “Carpathia,” I whispered. “What are you doing --”

  “I bumped into Portia Fearwyn,” her smile broadened, exposing her frontal fangs. “No time to explain, please step aside, darling.”

  The vampire vixen wafted into the center of the gray swarm. She twirled, extending her arms and waving them gracefully, while her gauzy red dress billowed around her. “Gentlemen? I trust you know who I am?” She began. “I am Carpathia Alecto, Golden Chair of the Coven Isles Alchemical Society.”

  The men fell silent and stared at the ethereal woman. “As Golden Chair, I have supreme dominion over artifacts that contain any and all traces of metal. This device may not yet have been analyzed thoroughly, but it’s known that the item contains a metallic element. Therefore, it’s my duty as GC to scan the grenade’s interior myself, until I see fit to release the gadget to you ….bureaucratic beasties.” Carpathia elongated her neck and threw her head back. From her fish white throat crept the most gravelly laugh.

  The agents recoiled, and Carpathia shimmied over to the gray who had snatched the evidence baggie from Eve. “Ah, here we go,” she cooed, plucking the packet from the stunned man. “And, darling, how kind you are to have it ready for me like this!” She smiled sweetly at the open-mouthed government goon. “I’m sure you’d like to check with your superiors as to whether my actions here are permitted?” A plethora of smartphones bounced against so many ears as the suits calle
d in the transgression.

  Carpathia stayed just long enough to watch the crestfallen faces of the Talisman agents. She had the power. The Talisman defense department knew it too if these goons’ faces were anything to go by.

  “Thank you so much for your cooperation, gentlemen, it really has been a pleasure,” she said, breezing past me. Carpathia gave me a crafty wink and floated out of the door.

  I smiled to myself. I guess it was good to have friends in high places. Carpathia Alecto had taken over the prestigious Golden Chair position from Aurel Nugget after Aurel was murdered by his long-time friend, Norris Copperhead.

  I caught David’s eye and shrugged. The chief beckoned me over.

  Spinefield, looking grateful for having escaped the ire of the operatives, came over to my friend and handed the chief a sheet of paper.

  “Chief, Shields’ assistant called in with the alibi list, sir. Eve and I have already made our way through it; we’ve called everyone on here.”

  “And?” CPI Trew looked at Spinefield squarely.

  “He checks out, boss. Shields was with Senator Wolf until past three fifteen p.m. He’s clean,” the desk sergeant admitted.

  “Figures,” David breathed.

  With their phones still pressed to their ears, David, Eve and I left the Talisman agents behind and made our way into the heart of the station.

  “Hattie, hi,” Eve said warmly, finally having the opportunity to greet me. “That was pretty crazy, huh?”

  “Hi Eve, yeah, that was wild,” I offered. “Carpathia Alecto IS the Golden Chair, though, so nobody has the right to dispute her actions.”

  David’s assistant nodded. Then, stopping in the middle of the hallway, she said: “Chief, if it’s okay, I’m just going to grab my notes for this interview.”

  “Of course, Eve, take your time. Hattie and I will be in my office; we’ll wait for you there.”

  “Not the interrogation room?” She asked, a nervous chuckle making her words tremor.

  “I don’t really see you as high risk, Eve,” David replied. “Ten minutes give you enough time?”

  “Plenty, see you in five,” she said and turned on her heel.

  “So, was that Portia Fearwyn’s work back there?” David asked, looking at me with an unbearably cute grin.

  “According to Alecto, yup,” I said, smiling back at my friend. “The Witch Fearwyn came through for us, and I didn’t think she was going to.”

  “Well, she’ll probably hold it over my head, knowing her,” David said, opening his office door. He motioned for me to take a seat to the side of him.

  “If you don’t wind her up, then maybe she’ll give you some breathing room, have you thought of that?” I teased. “But, listen, I have some exciting news for you,” I said leaning closer to my friend.

  I filled David in about Darkmore being Zinnie Kramp’s brother, and also that Portia had accused Ulrich of being an arms dealer. And, also what Portia had mentioned about the drifter and the possible use of the Lost Language as a method for activating the bomb. The chief was about to answer, but a knock at the door interrupted him.

  “Come in, Eve,” he said.

  “Hi, thanks, I just wanted to get all of the facts in order, you know?” Fernacre said, sitting down and placing a file folder on her knee.

  “I like that you’re this exacting, and have taken notes,” David praised. I must admit, I felt almost proud of Eve myself. She wanted to show David she was doing a good job, taking her duties seriously, and I think she was pulling it off with aplomb. I said a silent prayer for the woman, in the hopes that she would one day get a well-earned promotion.

  Eve Fernacre smiled and folded her hands over the binder.

  “Let’s just start with everything you know about Kramp and his stay here, does that sound good?” David asked.

  “Sure, no problem, sir,” Eve said. “Well, as you know I was assigned as Kramp’s intake officer. And, I guess, just by natural progression, it also became my duty to oversee Barnabus’ general well being while he was, uh… ‘staying’ with us.”

  I chuckled. “You make it sound like GIPPD is a hotel.”

  “Well, if I’m to be truthful, I think that Kramp pretty much used us as a hotel,” Eve said, leveling her gaze at me. “He had everything he needed, no, make that everything he wanted. As many visitors as he liked, the privilege of outside goods being brought in, including food items, electronic entertainment, unlimited phone calls, you name it, it was arranged for him.”

  I looked at David. “Why was that? Why wasn’t Kramp on remand in Steeltrap, where all other offenders awaiting trial are? How did he manage a cushy stay at GIPPD jail?”

  “You do know Kramp’s closest connections, right?” the chief asked raising one eyebrow.

  “Shields.”

  “Yup. Did Kramp have any visitors that stood out?” David asked Eve. “Anything that you noticed as unusual? Any arguments, for example?”

  Eve shook her head. “Not that I remember, boss,” she confessed. “I mean, that Shields dude was around quite often, but I never overheard anything they discussed.” She looked at David, and murmured “Sorry, sir.”

  “Don’t be. What about Zinnie? How many times did she make an appearance?”

  Again, Eve produced a handwritten document. “Zinnie visited daily, while Kramp was here. Except …for the last two days. She didn’t show up at all for the last couple of days Barnabus was here.”

  David and I exchanged a look.

  “So, tell us about Kramp’s medication. You were aware he was taking pills for his heart condition?” David looked up from his scribbling.

  “I was, chief, yes,” Eve said, opening her file folder. She pulled a slip of paper out and read. “Digitaling, no, sorry, Digitalin. A band of drugs used to treat heart disease by regulating heart rhythm. I was told by Spinefield that Kramp was permitted to oversee his own dosage of the drugs, sir.”

  David nodded. “Another perk of being the governor’s friend,” the chief said, looking at me. “Kramp wasn’t seen as a suicide threat, either. I mean, he knew he was going to get off lightly, and he had everything to live for, so Barnabus’ doctor gave us the go ahead for Kramp to be responsible for his own dosing of meds.”

  “I spoke to his doctor personally,” Eve said. “I just wanted to be sure, really. Anyway, I have his number here …. Uh, it’s…” She rifled through her notes. “Here it is. Dr. Fitzcull. He’s been Kramp’s physician since the lawyer was a boy. The doc gave me the prescription details of the digi … stuff, and also the prescribed dosage.”

  “And, did you ever check Kramp’s medication levels? In the bottle, I mean? Did it look like he was taking the correct prescribed amount?”

  “I did, yes. I don’t want anyone dying on my watch,” Eve said. “Kramp was to take two tablets twice a day. I made sure he took them at the right time. But, sorry, no, I didn’t check the number of pills left in the bottle. I didn’t even think about it, to be honest. Are you saying that Kramp’s medication to treat his heart condition could actually have caused a heart attack?”

  “Did you notice if Kramp was displaying any symptoms of heart discomfort?” I asked, ignoring Eve’s question.

  “According to Dr. Fitzcull, Kramp suffered from bouts of indigestion. Which, I guess, isn’t a great condition to experience when the other ailment you’re afflicted with pretty much produces the same symptoms. Barnabus often clutched at his chest with the pain of reflux. Or, at least that’s what he told me it was, and I didn’t even consider anything otherwise, given what his doctor said. ”

  “Did he have any meds for indigestion?” David asked.

  “No. It wasn’t chronic indigestion. It was brought on by stress, mostly, according to both Kramp and his physician. But, it looked uncomfortable, so… I ...gave him some tea that I found,” Eve’s cheeks flushed in a brilliant red hue.

  “Eve?” David said.

  “I’m s-sorry, chief. I knew that Hattie had been sending you home with
an assortment of teas for indigestion … I hope you’re feeling better, by the way. Anyway, you, uh, left a few tea bags in your outbox on your desk. A couple of ginger, and a handful of licorice. I didn’t think you’d miss them, and I knew that ginger and licorice are good for stomach upset and indigestion,” Fernacre confessed.

  I laughed, and lay my hand on Eve’s shoulder. “Well, at least you have faith in my cures,” I joked, giving the chief a playful warning look. “Good to know that you have an interest in plant remedies. I suppose you knew already that Digitalin’s common name is ‘Foxglove?’”

  “Foxglove?” Eve shook her head and tidied her papers. “No, I’ve not heard of that. Cool name, though,” she smiled.

  I faint whisper of something stirred at the front of my skull. Just a sense of recognition or something, but the feeling was too fleeting to grab onto and inspect further.

  David smiled. “Did it help?”

  Eve looked taken aback. “Help, chief?”

  “Did Hattie’s teas help Barny’s indigestion?”

  “Ah, yes, I think it did. He often settled down after drinking one of Hattie’s brews.” Eve smiled at me.

  David’s eyes found me. “Hattie, I think I’m done here, do you have any further questions for Eve?”

  I held up my hands and let out a breath. “That’s it from me. Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with us, Eve.” I squeezed her shoulder. “You did an excellent job with the note taking, very helpful.”

  “Aw, thanks, Hattie,” she beamed, and stood up, tucking the folder of papers under her arm. “If you guys need to ask any further questions, don’t forget I have everything in here,” she tapped the file with her free hand. “I’ll be happy to help out.” The chief’s assistant left the room just as Spinefield walked in.

  “Sir, sorry, sir, but, Maude Dulgrey, the coroner that is, asked me to give this to you straight away. She said you’d want to ‘rest easy.’” He handed over a slip of paper to the chief. David scanned the note and ran a hand through his hair.

 

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