The Night Beat

by Gini Koch

  Miriam spun and did her raising spell. The ground moved and boiled, but nothing came up. Magdalena touched the moving earth of each grave. She shook her head. “There are no bodies in here any more.”

  I hit my wrist-com. “Monty, how’re you doing?”

  “Not really well. Put it this way, it’s a good thing they have my arms stacked next to each other, or I couldn’t have answered you.”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to know. I need an All Dirt Corps Alert. We need to know if any of our favorite recently raised deaders are anywhere around, on any plane, but most likely Undead or Human. Jerry the Junkie was dusted by the Adversary, but the others have disappeared.”

  “Not good. Okay, I’ll alert the troops. Where will you be?”

  I considered. “What day is it?”

  “Pardon?” Monty sounded as shocked as those around me looked.

  “Day. What day is it? I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep, or food, in the past I don’t remember how many hours now, and I’m not sure. Day of the week. Surely someone over there knows.”

  “It’s Sunday.” Monty sounded confused. “Why does that matter?”

  “You asked me where we were headed. And it matters because now I know.”

  “And,” Monty said, like he was speaking to a crazy person with a loaded gun, “just where is that?”

  “The Little Church of the Country.”

  Chapter 44

  Ralph arrived as I announced our destination. He hit a full stop and a salute. “Ready, Major.”

  I tried not to sigh. “Ralph, we don’t have time for the formality.” Based on the glare he shot at Jack, I figured Ralph was going for the full on military bearing in an attempt to outshine Jack.

  “Fine.” Ralph put his paw down but his body language was Ready For Action. At least he was eager. “Why the Little Church of the Country as our destination?”

  “Jerry the Junkie was a little too involved and in the know. His father’s a preacher of some kind, and his family lives in the Estates. There are only a few men or women of the cloth who can afford to live that well.”

  “Television evangelists,” Freddy supplied.

  “Yep. And we have a couple who live in the Estates. One in particular.”

  “The Right Reverend Gerald Johnson,” Jack said. “Called Jeremiah Johnson by most of his flock. Okay, I can see it, and I’ll just bet our favorite dusted junkie was named for his father.”

  “I’d give it pretty even odds. Johnson controls a flock that consists of most of Prosaic City’s wealthy and also lures the poor and lower middle class.” The Little Church was also a total misnomer. It was huge and glorious -- lots of glass, gold and silver plate, and reflective paint, along with many more spires than one normally needed for a house of worship -- built on one of the hills in the Estates, so you could see it for miles.

  “So, that would mean, since it’s Sunday morning, they’ve got a packed house and all the bodies they need, right?” Sexy Cindy ventured.

  “That’s my current guess.” The base of my tail felt that Sexy Cindy was a keeper. I checked out the angels. “Much as I’d love to have aerial backup, I want the five of you back to the hospital. Monty, if they don’t show up within fifteen minutes, I want an All Being Alert on Black Angel One, Black Angel Two, and Martin. Brought in for extreme stubbornness.”

  He chuckled. “You got it. I’ll alert the hospital staff that their errant patients will be returning.” My wrist-com went dead.

  Martin shook his head. “You need us.”

  “Yeah, I need you alive and well. Go get fixed up. If it’s that bad, I’m sure you’ll know.”

  “I’m sure.” Martin sighed and nodded. “Let’s do as Victoria asks. The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll be released.” They all nodded to us and flew off. Slowly.

  I turned back to the others. “Okay, we need a car.”

  “Why not use your detective car?” Sexy Cindy asked.

  “I have no idea where it is.” This was true.

  “At Our Lady of Compassion,” Jack said. “Illegally parked.”

  Oh, right. “Legally parked, and get over it. Too far away, and besides, we need a nicer car.”

  “Why?” Freddy asked, as he looked around the cemetery. “I see no cars here.”

  I sniffed and saw Ralph’s ears perk up. “There will be cars here shortly, and we need a decent one because we’re about to infiltrate the church where all the money goes. We need to fit in.”

  “What’s wrong with our car?” Jack asked.

  “Other than it screaming ‘undercover police’? Nothing.”

  “I’m not going to human,” Ralph said flatly.

  “Yes, yes, Ralph, I know. Werewolves Wear Their Pride. Got it.” I shifted to human and rubbed my forehead. “Fine. You’re a purebred wolfhound. Make sure you look all friendly and such, wolfhounds love people. But not for dinner.”

  He gave me a betrayed look. “You’re going to put a leash on me?”

  “If only I could. No. I’m going to brag about how you’re so well trained you can follow my verbal commands and hand signals. Unless I decide to just lock you in the car with the window rolled down a tiny bit.”

  “Funny.” Ralph ruffled his fur. “But, undercover work isn’t always enjoyable.”

  “No kidding.” I started walking towards the sounds and the smells. There was an early morning funeral going on. And happily, it was attended by several people with very nice cars.

  There was a pretty decent-sized crowd for this time of day. They seemed to cover all walks of life, too, if the clothing was any indication. Not all the cars were nice -- some had decidedly seen better driving days. I took a closer look at the crowd. They were in front of a set of big flower displays but not by any graves.

  We took care to amble and look reverent. No rushing about furtively -- that tells everyone you’re trying not to be seen. Look like you don’t mind being seen and no one pays any attention. I had to stop paying attention to the mourners and look for a suitable vehicle to “borrow”.

  One of the cars parked the farthest away was a Mercedes S-Class. I was good with that. No one in the good parts of town would question anyone’s right to be there if they arrived in an S-Class.

  The Gods and Monsters were on our side. The driver had left the keys in the ignition. Jack slid into the driver’s seat, I took shotgun, and the others got into the back. “Ralph, try not to rip the upholstery.”

  “I only rip what I want to,” he muttered.

  “Good boy.”

  “You’re not funny, Vic.”

  Jack chuckled. “Yeah, she is. However, I don’t think we should be stealing cars.”

  “It’s in the execution of our duties.”

  “It’s grand theft auto.”

  “No problem, I’ll drive.”

  Jack sighed. “No, let’s not add manslaughter, being-slaughter, destruction of public property, and reckless endangerment to the list.” He started the car and we backed away. No one seemed to notice we were stealing a hugely expensive car, though I figured that wouldn’t last long. As soon as we were out of sight of the funeral, Jack sped up and out of the cemetery. “So, you think we’re right about the Little Church?”

  “Yeah. And the Prince and the minions love a good show. Plus, think about it -- worldwide, televised audience. Great way to influence the masses, and not just the masses in Prosaic City. I’d say the odds are just too good that Jerry’s father is Johnson, and that the minions are with him in some way.”

  “I agree,” Sexy Cindy offered. “His mom would come in a fancy car like this one. They make some real money at that church, I’ve heard.” From what I’d heard they made so much money that the I.R.S. always took a personal interest. However, Johnson was found clean, year after year. The possibility that he was a truly good man with a loser son was at least as good as the option that he was a manipulative scumbag who used the idea of God to control the masses and steal their money in a legal way. It wouldn’t matter to the mini
ons -- on the Prince’s side already, turned to the Side of Evil, or destroyed, that was their goal no matter what or who.

  We wound our way through Prosaic City in some of the nicest luxury ever. “I could get used to this.”

  “I hope we don’t get busted for grand theft auto,” Jack muttered.

  “We’re cops. Taken in pursuit of a criminal.”

  “We stole the car, Vic.”

  “Details, details.” I was ready to go to sleep and the car was comfy enough to do it. I heard Freddy snoring softly behind me. My eyes closed.

  They opened because a wet nose was in my ear. “Wake up,” Ralph whispered.

  I was going to say something nasty but fortunately looked ahead before I glared at Ralph. We were at the Prosaic Country Club and Estates. But we weren’t going to be able to get in.

  There was a wall of flame around the entire perimeter. I could tell because Jack was slowly driving past it. “Can everyone see that?” I asked. I could just make out the Little Church in the distance -- the flames were obstructing my view extremely well.

  “I see signs saying that entry’s forbidden,” Jack said. “But I think I see something else, like…fire?”

  “Yes,” Ralph said. “It’s Hellfire.” He was growling. Not that I could blame him.

  “I see it, too,” Sexy Cindy said.

  “I as well,” Freddy confirmed. “But, how and why?”

  I thought about it while we drove around in a big, winding, sort of circle. “How is simple. Abaddon and Apollyon are together. Hellfire’s the least of what they can bring to any party. Hitler’s got to be with them -- the barriers Jack can see, and I can see if I focus, are warlock-created for sure. To keep humans out,” I added before anyone could ask.

  “Why would they want that?” Sexy Cindy asked. “I thought they wanted to take over.”

  “They do. But they don’t need all the humans to do that.” I was worried they already had all they needed in place and on the human plane. “Why is the real question.”

  “What’s going on is the bigger question,” Jack said.

  “Creating more dupes, creating a living zombie army, gathering hostages, mind-controlling people via the televised feed, the usual evil minion ploys,” Ralph said. “What’s going on is simple -- something we don’t want. Vic’s right, why is the real question.” His nose was still near my ear.

  I shoved his muzzle away gently and got the sad puppy eyes. I did my best to ignore them. “I’ve got a reason for why, but I don’t like it.”

  “Is there a possibility for a reason we’d actually like?” Jack asked. “Spill it, Vic.”

  I took a deep breath. “The Hellfire’s there to keep us out, since we can’t safely pass through it. You could,” I said to Jack. “But only if you couldn’t see the Hellfire. You can see that there’s something else there, so it’ll hurt or kill you to pass through. Same for us. Demons and Golem can pass through, but the rest of us need more equipment than we have with us.” I remembered all our stuff back in the unmarked car. We needed to get back there.

  “Is that the entire answer?” Jack asked shortly.

  “No. Head for the OLOC. I want to dump this car and get our usual one.”

  He muttered something under his breath but did as asked. “So? Why the Hellfire and why are we leaving?”

  “They knew we were coming. That’s why the Hellfire’s up. Whatever they’re doing, they don’t want us disturbing it.”

  “How could they know we were headed here?” Sexy Cindy asked. “We didn’t know until you said it.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “I think we have a mole.”

  Chapter 45

  Ralph broke the silence first. “Who do you suspect?”

  “Not sure.”

  “You’re lying. You have a guess. I can tell.”

  I glared at his nose, which was back to being right near my ear. “How so?”

  He moved so we were eye-to-eye and gave me a look that said I was a moron. “You, like every other being, smell different when you lie.”

  Duh. Couldn’t argue with a werewolf nose. “Fine. I hate what I’m going to say.” The words dragged out of my mouth. “Monty’s the most obvious choice. He knew where we were going, he controls Dead Corps, he’s been undead for centuries.”

  “You have no proof,” Freddy said, sounding upset. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t want to consider Monty an enemy. The mere idea hurt too much.

  “True. Just supposition. But we need to be careful and hyper-aware of what we say to and around him.”

  “Could be someone else,” Ralph said. “Anyone could have been in the room with Monty, after all.”

  “Yes, which is why it’s supposition right now and we’re not making an arrest.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ralph argued. “Monty’s in a huge position of trust. Clyde and the Count would never have let him get to that position if he were a double-agent.”

  “See, the thing is -- if you’re a good double-agent, that’s the whole point. That you look just like you should to the side you’re infiltrating.” After all, I knew we had beings in deep cover -- why wouldn’t the Prince have the same? Frankly, why wouldn’t the Prince have more agents infiltrating us, not less? Double-agents, like a good double-cross, were more the Prince’s side of things than ours, after all.

  “So, Monty’s a suspect,” Jack said shortly. “Who else?” He shot me a look I was familiar with -- he suspected someone near us of being about to try something.

  I considered who in the car Jack didn’t trust. The answer was easy. But I wasn’t going to accuse Ralph of being a double-agent right here and right now, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that if he was, we’d tell him that we suspected him, and that would mean we wouldn’t catch him, because he’d be on guard.

  So, I considered other options, while adding Ralph to my turncoat suspects list. None of the options, Ralph included, made me happy. But then again, finding out one of your friends is actually your enemy is never fun. “Clyde.”

  “Why?” Ralph sounded shocked. “He had to be rewrapped! How’s he a suspect?”

  “He runs Necropolis Enforcement’s day-to-day. And yet, the Adversary made it in without issue, did his thing, and escaped. I just think it’s a possibility that he had inside help, and if he did, then Clyde’s the best choice.”

  “The Count, too,” Sexy Cindy said, her voice low. “I mean, if you’re looking for who it would suck beyond belief to be on the wrong side. Martin and Black Angel One and Two, too. They were with us and angels can talk in their minds and all.”

  “Yeah.” The downside of knowing we had a deep cover operative about as deep as you could go meant the other side could as well. I’d been happier back in The Pleasure Palace.

  “All the angels, any angel, by those standards,” Freddy said, sounding dejected. “Even Jude. He’s supposed to be blocking the bad guys and yet all the minions are on the plane, right?”

  “Right.” I wanted to throw up. “Cotton.” Suggesting him didn’t give me any pleasure. “Though I think he’s unlikely.” But ghosts had the ability to follow you without your knowing it. Not for too long, but a short time could be enough.

  “Ken,” Jack offered. “He made the decisions about who to resurrect. And he screwed up Freddy and Cindy. Maybe he did that on purpose.”

  My stomach was in knots. “You have a point.” My friends and my two ex-boyfriends were suspects. Throwing up wasn’t an option, neither were tears, but it took a lot of work to prevent both. I couldn’t even trust everyone in the car, since Ralph was a suspect, though thankfully Jack wasn’t going to say it aloud right now, either. Freddy and Sexy Cindy, by benefit of being resurrected by Ken could also be considered suspect. I felt quite alone and surrounded.

  Ralph sighed. “Honestly, it could be anyone. Vic’s the daughter of the Adversary, Jack’s a human who’s adapting amazingly well…I could go on. I don’t think we have enough to know.”

  Ralph had a po
int. “True. So, we work under the mole assumption and stay hyper-alert, but until we have something more, no friendships are destroyed by quick-trigger accusations. Agreed?”

  The others all murmured their accord. We drove on, and I was sure the others felt like I did -- like the world had just shifted again into an even scarier and sadder place.

  Chapter 46

  We arrived at the OLOC parking lot. Sure enough, there was our unmarked car, looking very police-like. It was getting furtive glances from the few humans wandering around. They were also clearly looking for the cops. No one had paid any real attention to us in the S-Class.

  “Let’s load the weapons into our, ah, borrowed vehicle.”

  “Hell with that,” Jack muttered. He went to the sedan’s radio. “Darlene, Detective Wagner. Any interesting news?”

  “Darlene is off shift, Detective. This is Susan.” There was something odd about how she said her name, but I couldn’t place what. I tried to remember what she looked like but couldn’t. Blonde, maybe.

  “Oh, right, sorry, losing track of time. How’re you doing?” Jack sounded friendlier than normal. I figured he’d picked up that he’d annoyed her in some way.

  “I’m good, thanks for asking. Are you still on shift?”

  “Yes, Detective Wolfe and I are both going to have to keep on rolling.”

  “Bummer.”

  “So,” I interjected, “what’s going on today and what went on last night that we might not know about?”

  “Last night was another quiet night. Nice change. Darlene told me the Chief is worried, though.” Susan sounded bored.

  “Nothing at all on the radar?” Jack was fishing for something, but I didn’t know what.

  “Minor stuff so far today. Someone stole a car from the National Cemetery.” Jack gave me the “I told you so” look. “Road work’s blocked off most of the Estates area. Nothing for Night Beat to worry about, though.”