Tallow Jones: Wizard Detective (The Tallow Novels Book 1)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  “He may not look it, but he is very powerful.” Tallow said. He turned the rock back over to face him and spoke to it. “Go on. Give her a smile. Show her you’re friendly.”

  He turned the rock to face her and she saw that its flat line of a mouth was now curled up into a smile.

  Agatha blinked at it. “What is his name?”

  “That’s the thing,” Tallow said. “What I’ve called him in the past doesn’t matter. If he’s going to belong to you, you’re going to need to give him a new name.” He held it out to her. “Go ahead. Take him.”

  Agatha took the rock from him. It was warm to the touch. The moment she held it in her hands she knew there was an intelligence to it. It was a living thing.

  “Hello,” she said. The face changed slightly, one eyebrow raising, and she felt a sort of question form in her mind. She nodded. “Okay, let me think.”

  “Are you thinking of his new name?” Tallow asked.

  Agatha nodded again, her eyes closed. When she opened them again, she had decided. “His name will be Reginald Rockingham III.”

  “Reginald Rockingham . . . the Third?” Tallow asked, an amused smile on his face. “How pretentious.”

  “Yeah,” Agatha said. “I like that name. I used to collect rocks when I was littler and the first two Reginald Rockinghams got lost. I think Asher might have thrown them out.”

  Tallow nodded. “Older brothers sometimes do things like that.” He gestured at the rock. “What does he think?”

  Agatha looked back at the rock and saw that the smile on its chalk face had widened. She could feel his acceptance inside her mind. “He likes it.”

  “Good,” Tallow said. “Now that you have named him, he will be able to communicate with you inside your mind. He doesn’t talk in words much, but you should know what he is trying to tell you.”

  “I can hear him already,” she said excitedly. “He likes my hair. And he is glad that he doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

  Tallow let out a chuckle, “Well, I am glad he likes you. Now, you should be very careful who you tell about this. Most people won’t believe you.”

  “I’m not dumb enough to tell people I talk to a rock,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes.

  “Good,” he said. “Now he is good at sensing when danger is nearby. He will be able to warn you and he will be able to protect you from most things as long as you listen to him and keep him with you.”

  Agatha cocked her head then scooted across the bench towards him and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Uncle Tallow.”

  Tallow stiffened with surprise, then embraced her back. After a moment, he pushed her away and cleared his throat. “Alright, you hold on to Reginald. I have a call to make.”

  “Okay,” Agatha said and looked at her rock to see that Reginald’s mouth was now a bewildered wavy line. “What? I like him now.”

  Tallow lifted his phone and tapped in the number he had been given earlier. He bit his lip. Then tapped call and pressed it to his ear. It rang several times before Douglas picked up.

  “What is it now?”

  “Hello, Douglas,” Tallow said. “Um . . . I need to report a murder.”

  Chapter 13: Tangled Cases

  “A murder?” said Douglas in shock. He walked away from the forensics crew that was working the loading dock around him.

  The forensics team, wearing latex gloves and booties on their feet, had been bagging evidence from the minute they arrived. Preliminary tests on the stains Tallow had revealed had confirmed that it was indeed blood, though whether or not it was human blood was still a bit muddied. It was possible that the carpet had been stained with a mix of both. Samples were being taken down to the lab.

  Right now a cluster of forensic technicians were gathered around the dead moonrat. Guesses as to its identity were running the gamut from mutant sewer rat to genetic science experiment. None of them knew that the truth was even more ridiculous sounding.

  Douglas had ordered everyone to keep word of the creature in-house until the chief could decide what to do about it. Unfortunately, not everyone that had seen the thing was part of his unit. With as much attention as that thing was getting he’d be surprised if a picture of it didn’t get leaked outside the department somehow.

  He moved to the corner next to the outer door and lowered his voice. “A murder where? And this had better not be a joke.”

  “I’m at Polly Roberts’ house,” Tallow replied. “There is a man in the kitchen, dead on the floor. Blood everywhere. It’s likely to be Polly’s father, but I can’t be sure since I haven’t seen the man before. I thought it might be a good idea to call you directly before dialing 911.”

  Douglas’ jaw tightened. “What are you doing there in the first place? Aren’t you supposed to be watching Agatha?”

  “Oh . . . I am. She’s here with me. We’re in the car outside the house,” Tallow assured him.

  Douglas heard his daughter speak up in the background. “I’m fine, Daddy.”

  Douglas’ eyes widened at the thought of his innocent daughter at a murder scene. “What happened?”

  As Tallow filled him in, Detective Ross saw the look on Douglas’ face and strode towards him. The large detective had just finished being administered to by the department EMT. After being bandaged up and injected with needles he hadn’t bothered to put his torn suit jacket back on. Nevertheless he was sweating profusely, large damp spots under his arms.

  “What is it?” Ross asked.

  Douglas pulled the phone away from his mouth. “I need you to call in a murder. It’s at Polly Roberts’ house. 945 Edgewood Drive. The deceased is an unidentified male, possibly her father.”

  “Holy hell,” said Ross, pulling out his phone. He stepped a short distance away to call dispatch.

  “Do you have any idea how long ago this happened?” Douglas asked Tallow.

  There was a slight bit of hesitation on the other end of the call as Agatha said something unintelligible to Tallow. Tallow mumbled something back to her and then said to Douglas, “Sorry. Uh, I didn’t dare get close to the body because I didn’t want to contaminate the evidence. But I did feel it out with my magic from a distance and from his temperature, I would say it wasn’t all that long ago. Maybe an hour or so?”

  That recent? A chill went through Douglas. “Tallow? Could the killer still be in the house?”

  “No,” Tallow assured him. “I have ways to tell. I would have sensed if anyone was nearby.”

  Douglas frowned. “Aren’t you a little too dependent on that stuff?”

  “I know that the concept of magic is new to you, but I’ve been using it to solve cases for years,” Tallow said patiently. “Listen, Douglas. I think this murder happened around the same time that those men were shooting at us.”

  “You think it was related somehow?” Douglas asked. The timelines did line up. He imagined a white van pulling up to the Roberts’ house and men in masks rushing the front door. “Was he shot?”

  “No,” Tallow replied. “He was . . . you know, I’d rather not say the details in front of Aggie. I’ll text it to you when we hang up.”

  Douglas could hear Agatha protest in the background.

  Tallow put his hand over the phone and said something back to her before talking to Douglas again. “But yes, this has to be related. Think about the timeline. A few days ago something happened that caused S&C Travel to leave the building. We show up and the moment we find evidence, not only do people try to kill us, but Roberts ends up dead.”

  “If it is him,” Douglas said, but had to admit, “Still, it is a bit too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence. Though it’s hard to see how Roberts’ death is tied to our entering the loading dock.”

  “I’m working on a couple theories, though I’ll need to wait until your forensic team goes through the house to know if any of them are true,” Tallow said, a trace of bitterness in his voice.

  “They’ll be as quick as they can,” Douglas said.

  Tallow
snorted. “That’s what every department says and it always takes far too long.”

  “Hey, our unit is the best in Atlanta,” Douglas said. “Probably in the entire south.”

  It was no coincidence that their particular section of the Criminal Investigations Division, the FIU or Frontline Investigative Unit, had been placed directly under the Chief’s supervision. Chief Johnson had hand-picked each team member, poaching them from other departments both within the Atlanta PD and out. It was her vanity project, a special team that got the best cases and gave her political revenue.

  “I don’t doubt you,” Tallow said placatingly. “I just don’t have the patience for the amount of time police procedure takes.”

  “Sorry, that’s life,” Douglas said. “And if I’m going to let you help in this investigation, you’re going to have to live with it.”

  “Okay. I hear you,” Tallow said before quickly changing the subject. “There’s something else odd I noticed when I sent my magic through the house. The front door was locked and deadbolted when we arrived and my magic told me that the back door was locked too. And all the windows were shut except for one tiny one that nobody would be able to climb in or out of. How do you explain that?”

  Douglas pursed his lips. How would a murderer have pulled that one off? “Tallow, that sounds like a suicide.”

  “Not with those wounds,” Tallow said. “There is no way that what happened to him was self-inflicted.”

  “Did you sense any other-.” He lowered his voice, feeling embarrassed to even speak the next part of the sentence aloud. “Magic in the house besides yours?”

  “No but, like I was saying, I didn’t get the chance for a thorough look,” Tallow said.

  Ross walked back to Douglas’ side. “We’ve got cars on the way, Doug. Your uncle’s gonna single handedly stretch us thin. Three crime scenes within two hours?”

  “Tallow thinks the crimes are connected,” Douglas said.

  Ross frowned. “His ‘magic’ again?”

  “Is that Detective Ross?” said Tallow into Douglas’ ear. “Tell me, has he had his wounds tended to yet?”

  “He wants to know if you’ve had those scratches looked at,” Douglas said.

  “Tell him I’m fine. They don’t even hurt,” Ross said.

  “I heard that,” said Tallow. “Tell him that it’s not going to hurt. He’s going to start sweating and then he’ll get a fever. Then the wounds will start itching. He needs antibiotics now.”

  Douglas frowned. Ross was indeed sweating profusely. That wasn’t strange necessarily. It was a hot day. But the man’s dark skin was looking decidedly paler than normal and he was also breathing a bit heavy. “Did they give you antibiotics?”

  Ross rolled his eyes. “I got tetanused, rabiesed, and penicilined, and probably a lot of other ‘cillined’. Those needles did a lot more damage to me than that rat thing. Okay?”

  “They just finished taking care of him,” Douglas told Tallow, trying to convince himself at the same time. Even if Ross was pale and sweating, he had just had the shots. Antibiotics didn’t work instantly.

  “Please tell me your uncle didn’t touch anything while he was at that house,” Ross said.

  “He said he was careful,” Douglas told him. Then his brow furrowed. “Tallow, please tell me you didn’t touch anything.”

  “I’ve been working with cops for a long time, remember? I only tiptoed inside for a second and I made sure not to leave any evidence,” Tallow said. “I even used magic to bolt the door shut again after I left so that it would be back to the way it was when I arrived.”

  Douglas’ furrowed brow deepened. “But how will you explain reporting a body you had no opportunity to see?”

  “Oh. Through the kitchen window. Agatha looked in there and saw blood on the refrigerator. That’s how I knew to go in and . . .” Tallow’s voice trailed off as he realized he had said more than intended.

  “Agatha saw it?” Douglas said, his voice raised.

  “He took Aggie to a crime scene?” Ross exclaimed.

  “She just saw a handprint on the fridge,” Tallow assured him.

  Aggie spoke up, leaning close enough to the phone that Douglas could hear. “And blood on the floor. And his feet!”

  “You’re really just trying to get me in trouble, aren’t you,” Tallow grumbled back to her.

  Douglas scowled. “Tallow-!”

  “Oh! I hear sirens,” Tallow interrupted. He cleared his throat. “Here come the police. Let me hand the phone to Aggie and she can tell you all about it. I’ll have to get back to you after I’ve made my statement.”

  “I’m gonna punch that slimy bastard right in the nose,” Ross promised.

  “Wait just a minute, Tallow, you son of a-.” Douglas said just as Agatha came on.

  “Daddy,” she warned. “I know what word usually comes next.”

  “Hey, Aggie,” he said, lowering his voice an octave. “Are you okay, sweetie? I know you saw something disturbing.”

  “It’s okay, Daddy. I’m not scared or creeped out or anything,” she said, her voice remarkably cheery. “You know how Uncle Tallow is a real life wizard? He gave me a rock to protect me. I named him Reginald Rockingham III and he has magic powers.”

  Douglas’ shoulders slumped. “That’s great, sweetie.”

  “What did she say?” Ross asked.

  Douglas gave his partner a dull look. “He gave her a magic rock to protect her.”

  “He’s an elemental, Daddy,” she corrected.

  “I don’t know what that means, Agatha,” Douglas said.

  Ross grunted. “Listen, why don’t you head over there, take a look at the scene and beat the hell out of your uncle while you’re at it.”

  “Just a minute, Agatha.” Douglas muted the call and sighed. “Look, Tallow had no way of knowing they were going to stumble into a murder-.”

  “Don’t try and justify him to me,” Ross said. “Just go over there and take charge of the situation. Aggie needs her dad. I’ll supervise here.”

  Douglas looked at his partner, still pale and sweating and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Bob.”

  Ross winced. “Hey, man. That’s my injection arm.”

  “Sorry,” Douglas said. He walked out of the loading dock and into the Atlanta heat as he unmuted his phone. “Aggie? Hold tight. I’m on my way.”

  When Douglas arrived at the house, the street was bathed in flashing lights. The whole neighborhood was out on their lawns gawking at the police vehicles and the ambulance that were parked outside the house. Two officers were busy just directing people to move back and refusing to answer questions.

  Another officer was standing on the front lawn talking to Tallow. Agatha was standing next to him, knitting on something.

  Douglas had to park on the other side of the street and walk across. He flashed his badge to the officer dissuading onlookers and approached his daughter. “Aggie, you okay?”

  She let go of her knitting with one hand long enough to give him a hug. “The police won’t let Uncle Tallow inside.”

  “They’re not supposed to, sweetie.” He crouched next to her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Yep,” she said and reached into her bag of yarn to pull out a large river stone with a face drawn on it. “Reginald is watching over me. Reginald, say hi to Daddy.” She pointed it towards him. The rock’s mouth was an irritated squiggly line. “He doesn’t like being in the bag but I can’t hold him while I’m knitting.”

  Sighing, he stood and patted her on the top of the head. “At least you have your priorities straight, sweetie.”

  “Douglas,” said Tallow, turning away from the officer he had been speaking with. “Can I tag along with you as you go inside?”

  “No. You’re not an official part of this case,” Douglas replied, unable to keep his upper lip from curling in anger. “I have many things I want to discuss with you, Tallow, but right now I just want you to stay with Agatha and make sure she
doesn’t see any other crimes. Can you handle that, Uncle?”

  “No problem,” Tallow said, looking chastened.

  Douglas moved on to the house. He climbed the front steps and opened the front door. The smell of blood hung thick in the air.

  He could see why Tallow hadn’t dared take more than a couple steps inside. The floor looked like it belonged in a slaughterhouse. A forensic technician was photographing the scene and the moment he stepped in, he was greeted by two familiar faces.

  “There you are,” said Detective Patricia Martinez. Half Hispanic and half Native American, she was a thirty-something beauty with just as much experience on the force as Douglas had.

  “I was surprised when I saw your daughter outside,” said her partner, Detective Henry Cheese. He was a tall and fit black man, ex-military, who made up for his horrible last name by being just as good looking as his partner. The other officers in their unit called them the ‘TV Squad’.

  “Yeah, well I made a bad choice of babysitter,” Douglas said. “What’re you two doing on this case? I thought the chief had you handling OTP only.”

  Locals often referred to places as OTP or ITP, which designated whether something was outside or inside the Perimeter. The Perimeter, also known as I-285, circled the city of Atlanta and was an unofficial boundary separating the different outer suburban sections of town from the inner city of Atlanta proper. There were four pairs of detectives in their unit. Two assigned to OTP cases and two assigned to ITP. Douglas liked being inside the Perimeter. It meant he got to spend much less time in that awful I-285 traffic.

  “Usually we are,” said Patricia. “But Ross said that he wanted only detectives from the FIU and we were the only ones available.” She raised a well-plucked eyebrow at him. “We steppin’ on your toes, Doug?”

  “No,” he hurried to say. “We’re all on the same team. It’s just that Bob and I think this murder is directly tied to a case we’re working on.”

  “It have something to do with the shootout you had earlier?” asked Henry.

  “Probably,” Douglas replied. “My uncle was here checking out a lead when he found the body.”