The commissioner gestured with his hand. "Continue, Lorcan."
MacDuin had not moved at all. His piercing green eyes shifted to me and Murdock before he spoke. "As I was saying, the Guild would be more than happy to take the suspect into custody. I insist on it. There are many curious aspects to this case that our expertise will no doubt clarify."
"Can someone bring me up to speed here?" Murdock interrupted.
There was a pregnant pause while no one spoke. I felt a little like a kid who had intruded on the adults. It was Ruiz who decided to fill us in. "Director macDuin apprehended the suspect in the act of attempting to murder a prostitute in an alley off Congress and brought him here. We were just deciding jurisdiction."
"If I may, sir, but given that the perpetrator's human, isn't it pretty clear he's ours?" Murdock said.
Ruiz glanced a bit uncomfortably at the commissioner. "On the one hand, yes. On the other, the apprehending agent is a Guild member."
Turning my head slightly to peer past the edge of the window blind that separated Ruiz's office from the squad, I could see the profile of the disheveled victim. He hadn't moved, apparently, except to smooth his hair back over his ears. As I brought my attention back into the office, I noticed Keeva make an amateurish attempt at not looking like she was watching me.
"The Guild generally only takes cases they have officially participated in," Murdock said.
MacDuin looked incredibly bored. "As I was saying to the commissioner, Detective, in the interest of calming the public, the Guild would be pleased to bring this murderer to justice for his crimes against our people." The scorn in his voice practically puddled on the floor.
Murdock looked at him in surprise. "You think this is the guy that's been killing fairies?"
MacDuin pinched his lips together. "He is."
Murdock jutted his chin out, nodding. "An entire department has been on alert for a week looking for this guy, and you happened to be walking by and catch him in the act. Nice move."
"Murdock…" Ruiz said warningly. I was mildly surprised at his tone myself. Murdock could be a little needling sometimes, but even I thought he was on thin ice mocking a Guild director in front of his bosses.
Murdock smiled his best apologetic smile. "Sorry, sir. This thing's had me a bit on edge."
"Why do you think this human could possibly have done the murders?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I realized how arrogant it must have sounded. "No offense to present company," I added quickly.
MacDuin gave me a measured look, much like he was trying to decide whether to swat me or not. "That is precisely why the Guild should take over the investigation. I am very curious as to how a person with no abilities has managed to overcome several fey, Mr. Grey."
"Your victim's beaten up. That's out of character for our perpetrator," I said.
MacDuin nodded. "There was a tussle in the apprehension."
"No, I think Connor's right," said Murdock. "This doesn't fit. The only other witness we've had was purely accidental. The perpetrator we're seeking knows how to do his work out of sight. It's no secret we have a composite sketch, so I think he'd be even more careful now. I think we have a copycat here."
MacDuin leaned forward and fished a clear plastic bag off Ruiz's desk. He laid it carefully on a stack of papers. Inside the bag was a black round stone. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but few people outside this room know about this."
We stared at the bag. Murdock looked at me, and I shrugged.
The commissioner stirred in his seat. "I take it by all the silence that this stone has been held back?" Murdock nodded. The commissioner rubbed his eyes. "Let's split the baby for now. Lorcan, you take the victim, interview him, whatever. Just don't lose him. We'll hold the suspect for now while I decide the best course."
"I must protest, Commissioner," macDuin said.
The commissioner stood and offered his hand. "I know you must, Lorcan. But it's late, and I'm tired, and we'll all feel better in the light of day. Perhaps we can continue this discussion before our meeting tomorrow?"
For a moment, it looked like macDuin wasn't going to shake hands. He nodded finally and shook. "We'll speak in the morning then." He waved his hand at the door. "Keeva, if you will help me escort the victim."
She opened the door, and they left. As I turned back to Murdock, I saw the commissioner give him a sly wink.
"Thank you for your help, Connor," the commissioner said, offering his hand to me. The man did know how to dismiss someone graciously.
"It was good to see you again, sir," I said. I gave Murdock a quick glance and closed the door behind me. Everyone looked up as I walked through the squad room, but I ignored them. Pushing open the front door of the building, I caught up with macDuin and Keeva and their charge.
"Good catch, Lorcan," I said.
"Thank you," he said, studiously looking away from me up the street.
I sidled up next to him. "I mean, like Murdock said, it was a lucky thing you came along when you did."
"Yes." He still wouldn't look at me.
"So, Lorcan, what were you doing in the Weird this time of night?"
He finally looked at me. "Since you are a former member of the Guild, Connor, I will do you the courtesy of telling you that I was monitoring an operation. And that's the last question I'll answer this evening."
Keeva stepped between us. "Connor, why don't I call you tomorrow? We can wrap up the file."
A long black limo pulled up to the curb. They stood waiting for the driver to get out and open the door. Lorcan and Keeva slipped into the backseat, the two of them sitting like statues. The prostitute and the driver stood uncertainly facing each other. I touched the victim lightly on the elbow as I guided him toward the door.
I leaned forward so macDuin could see me, barely holding back a smile. "Interesting hair color on your victim, Lorcan. When I was at the Guild, we did this little thing called profiling. Things like all the victims having the same hair color. I'd've noticed all the victims were light blonds. Not dark."
MacDuin shot me a look that could have curdled milk.
The driver trotted back around the car, jumped in, and pulled away. I watched until the taillights disappeared around a corner. I walked back to Murdock's car and dropped into the passenger seat. None of the uniforms bothered me. They were used to seeing me and obviously figured Murdock would be okay with me sitting in his car. Otherwise, you don't touch a cop's car without getting a good poke with a stick. I sat staring through the dirty windshield, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
I didn't have to wait long for Murdock. He came flying out of the station house, started the car before he was barely in it, and tore down the street. I didn't say a word as he weaved through traffic. After several startling turns, he pulled up in front of my building and turned off the engine. We sat listening to a small pinging noise from under the hood.
"What was that all about with you and your father's wink?"
He shrugged. "It's a game we play. Whenever the Guild's in the room, he likes to give them a hard time. Only because of his position, he doesn't want to look biased. So, he uses me to rag on them."
"He doesn't like the fey much."
Murdock laughed. "No, he just doesn't like you."
"Thanks."
Murdock smirked. "Look at it from his point of view. The fey cause him more trouble than anything else. The Guild dumps all kinds of cases on an overloaded police department. Then, when it looks like we might actually have a chance of nailing a big fat fey fish, the Guild pulls rank and takes the case away. So, no, the fey aren't his favorite people."
I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "This guy might be a xeno gang member, but there's simply no way he could have done it. A human might get away with it once, but after the first or second murder, everyone's been on their toes. Between Tansy and the bartender at the Flitterbug, we know our guy's got a strong essence, and it definitely is not that mental case rocking in a cell. And the victim's
all wrong. Hair's too dark. I didn't smell any alcohol. I got a good whiff of his essence, too. I'm willing to bet he's never been in the Weird until tonight."
"You can tell that?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes. You spend enough time in one place, you pick up some ambient essence. The Weird has so many fey in it, you can definitely tell if someone lives or works here."
Murdock exhaled loudly. "Why is the Guild suddenly so interested?"
I shook my head. "I've seen Keeva twice in less than a week. That's no coincidence. They're hiding something."
"Do you think it might be a rogue Guild agent?"
"It's a possibility, though I think I would have heard rumor of it by now. Keeva and macDuin are quite keen about reputation. They may hate each other, but they hate looking bad more."
Murdock rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "Well, let's call it a night. There'll be a press conference tomorrow."
I got out of the car and stretched. The sky was beginning to lighten. Murdock was up way past his bedtime. I rested my hand on the roof of the car as he started it. Murdock leaned across the passenger seat and gave me a significant look. "There's only one problem with all this, Connor. It's Tuesday, and we don't have a dead body. So, where's our guy?"
I shook my head. "Maybe we drove him underground. Or maybe we just haven't found the body."
I didn't watch him drive off. I was too exhausted to walk up the stairs, so I took the interminable elevator ride. Once inside the apartment, I stripped down and fell back onto the futon without bothering to open it.
I knew I was missing something. Keeva might have been reading the police reports, but I was handling the evidence, touching it, sleeping with it. Our occasionally friendly competition aside, I couldn't figure how she could have got a jump on me and just appeared at the Flitterbug. And macDuin's being in the neighborhood was too convenient. It was possible he was there with Keeva at some point. Their so-called murderer had to be a frame job. With a pang of depression at the thought, I knew one way I might find out. I settled deeper into the pillows, contemplating how I would handle being back inside the Guildhouse.
CHAPTER 8
I woke near dawn, the sun beckoning me to acknowledge it. Feeling exhausted from the night before, I briefly toyed with ignoring the impulse to get up. The urge to urinate reared its head and decided for me. I stumbled to the bathroom and managed to finish and get in front of the window just as the sun crested the horizon. I felt better, but not refreshed. I fell back into bed and let myself drift into sleep again.
No sooner had I closed my eyes than I dreamed of floating spread-eagled on a plain of water, staring up at the night sky, the sound of screaming all around me. The water lapped at my ears, a cold moist texture that threatened to cover my face. An explosion split the air, and stars fell, brilliant red and orange, burning me as they pierced my skin, ripping open the flesh to expose my beating heart. I woke drenched in sweat.
It was well after noon by the time I stepped from the shower. As I settled at the desk with a cup of coffee, I realized my own suggestibility. The computer monitor displayed a scene photo of a naked spread-eagled fairy with a hole in his chest, his body tossed among the cartons, candle stubs, and rotting debris of a trash heap. It must have been weighing on my mind as I drifted into sleep. I closed the image file.
The light on the answering machine blinked at me from the corner of my desk, and I hit the REPLAY button. A long static hiss filled the room, followed by the sound of something being knocked over, a muttered curse, and finally Rory Dean's voice boomed out. "Connor! I'm calling you at the most ungodly hour I could manage, and you're still not there. Well, I'll keep it short and sweet since you're not around to annoy. I rang up the Atworth woman, found her rather easily, actually, and had to assure her everything was all right, which I hope is true. Anyway, she's just the most pleasant woman, a bit deaf actually, and most solicitous. Anyway, she informed me that her boy's been gone these past ten years, apparently some medical complication. I don't know if that's good or bad for you, but it must put him out terribly. Anyway, you were so bloody cryptic. Call a body sometime and let me know what's what and who you're drinking under the table these days."
The machine beeped and logged the call at three-thirty in the morning. I hadn't checked. Not that it mattered now. I updated the files anyway. Murdock would want them complete for the record. He had found Teri Esposito north of Boston, but her daughter was dead. Same went for the New York lead. I still hadn't heard from Germany. I was already discounting Britt Alfheim's kid Welfrey since she was female. That left Gethin, the son of Gerda Alfheim, and Corcan, the male child of Dealle Sidhe.
Thinking of Murdock made me pick up the phone and call. I managed to connect with the department secretary, but, naturally, she wouldn't tell me what was going on other than that he was not available. I didn't envy him the paperwork bullshit he was probably shoveling, nor the endless jerk-around meetings that always accompanied a media spin. I kept the television on in the background waiting for the press conference as I obsessively reviewed the files. The Fey Summit was still going on, the fairies and elves still arguing after all these years on how to behave with each other. Maeve didn't like being photographed, so reporters were left standing outside the mist wall that surrounded Tara — which made for a surreal backdrop. Not everyone was happy about a treaty between elves and fairies. Violent protests had broken out in London and Berlin.
The press conference came late in the afternoon, timed for live broadcast at the top of the first evening news hour. Commissioner Murdock stood at the podium, calm and self-assured, as though he had been involved with the case from the beginning. Murdock himself stood behind his father, reflexively scanning the crowd as though he expected a surprise criminal to show up for the circus. He never took a break. Off to the side of the cluster of police stood Lorcan macDuin. He didn't speak or move. No mention was made of his involvement in the capture of the accused. They even had the poor taste to parade the still-dazed-looking prisoner out to a wagon to be taken to the city lockup. It was enough to make me feel the world was safe for democracy, only I knew better. I turned the set off. At least now I knew where Murdock was.
I threw a baseball cap on my head and went out the door. The day did not want to cooperate with my mood. A brilliant azure sky, free of humidity, arced overhead. The surface of the harbor swelled placidly, so smoothly that it tricked the eye into thinking the water was a clean blue and not just a reflection of the sky.
District headquarters wasn't too long a cab ride. The mobile news trucks were still parked illegally when I reached the station house. While they finished packing up, I lingered on the sidewalk, debating whether to go look for Murdock. He resolved the issue by pushing out the door past the newspaper reporters who hadn't left yet. He spotted me immediately and jerked his head in the direction of his car. As he opened the door on the driver's side, he plucked a flyer out from under his windshield.
"How are you holding up?" I asked as I slid into the passenger seat.
"Fine." He looked at the flyer, then tossed it on the seat. We pulled onto the street and made our way back into the Weird.
"We're going to lose him," he said, making the turn onto Pittsburgh. He shook his head in annoyance. "My dad's going to spring him to the Guild. We got all the public relations out of it with the press conference, so he wants to dump it."
"Why?"
Murdock rolled his head and looked at me from under his brow. "You know the answer to that."
Unfortunately, I did. The police didn't want him. Or rather, the district attorney probably didn't want him. Most people were afraid of the fey, felt they had too much power, in both influential and real terms. A trial at the taxpayer's expense would go down sideways with a lot of folks. Add the profession of the victims, and even more sympathy vanished. Letting the Guild take him was a win-win solution: The state avoided prosecuting a human for crimes against a disliked minority, and the Guild got to look like it was taking
care of its own mess.
He pulled up to Shay and Robin's building. "You're fired, by the way."
I laughed. "I figured that was coming."
He got out of the car. "I didn't have a chance to pick up my equipment this morning. You want to come in?"
"I'm not up for the show right now."
He peeled back the door and disappeared inside.
I picked up the flyer. An ogham glyph was centered on the page with some numbers across the bottom. Ogham writing is essentially a long vertical line with various hash marks to represent sounds. Letters can be ascribed by the relation of the hash marks to the central line, either to the left or right and horizontally or angled across. The flyer had a straight line across the central axis, followed by five lines to the left, two lines angled across, and three lines to the right, which roughly worked out to A, Q, G, F. Old Gaelic could be pretty hard on the ears and tongue, but this did not spell any word I knew.
Across the bottom were the numbers 12432. The glyph rang a small bell, like I'd seen it on a band advertisement recently on a wall somewhere. I let it fall back on the seat.
Murdock returned to the car with a scowl. "They're not here."
"You did say you would be here in the morning."
He shot me an annoyed look. "I was busy. Where do you want me to drop you?"
I looked at my watch. "Just take me home. I'm in the mood to wallow in annoyance."
We drove in silence, both of us scanning the sidewalks of the neighborhood. Sometimes you can gauge the night by seeing who was out and about. Too many known troublemakers, and something stupid is bound to happen. A mix of regular folk and the bad guys, a normal night of nervous scuffles proceeds. Absolutely no one around, and you just know all hell's going to break loose somewhere. Tonight seemed a mix, just a regular weeknight in the Weird. We pulled up in front of my building.
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