There was an eagerness there which Sondra saw as something other than a desire to have his friends meet her. ‘Give me a few minutes. I’ll pop over. You’ll still be around, right?’
‘Oh sure. Day off tomorrow. Make hay while the sun shines and all that.’ He thought she was about as likely to join them later as he was to win the lottery, but he nodded as he took the two pitchers of beer. ‘See you later.’
‘Later.’
Walt looked at her as she sucked down some of her own beer. It was brewed with cherry pulp and was quite a heady brew – appropriate for the setting and Sondra liked it. ‘You actually going to go talk to them?’
‘Is Dillan Archer over there with them?’
‘Huh. No. They’re all technicians and that kind of thing. We don’t see the stars down here. They’re all on the Upper East Side in penthouse suites. I don’t think he’s even in the city yet. Hasn’t been in the news.’
‘In that case, yeah, I’ll go over in a bit.’
Walt’s grin was positively lascivious. ‘Grant made an impression?’
Sondra smirked, looking up at Walt over the rim of her glass and through long lashes. ‘It might be worth seeing what sort of stunts we can get up to.’
5th February.
‘It’s not all action and tossing spells,’ Sondra said as she sat in her lounge with a glass of wine and Grant sitting beside her. Well, her legs were in his lap and his fingers were absently stroking her toes. They had finally managed to get out of bed around four p.m., but he was showing no inclination to leave and Sondra figured she would get another night out of him. ‘Like all policework, most of what we do is paperwork.’
Grant nodded. ‘I figured that might be the case. Of course, they’re hamming the exciting stuff up in the movie.’
‘Movies and TV are all the same. A world where everything is solved by analysis of a blood stain, every villain leaves physical evidence, and every detective is either a plodding idiot or a genius.’
‘You saying you’re not a genius? Plus, when you told that story about the orcs in the store downstairs, it sounded like something off a police drama. You threw a cabbage at an orc’s face!’
‘He had just called me a useless rat.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’ve got orcs in your film?’ He nodded. ‘And they’re in with the bad guys, so they spout typical orcish insults. Like tikuguk.’
‘Huh, yeah, they do. Never knew what that meant.’
‘Small or meaningless rodent is the closest to English.’
Grant smiled. ‘And you speak Orcish.’
Sondra smiled back. ‘Orcish, Spanish, and a smattering of Italian. My Orcish isn’t great. It’s tough to speak it when you don’t have tusks.’
‘When do you find the time to learn all this stuff? I mean, all those books…’
It was true: Sondra had quite a few books. There were shelves around a lot of her lounge walls. Some of them held her favoured DVDs, but mostly the shelves were filled with books. Fiction and non-fiction, and there were more of the latter in her workroom for easy access.
‘I’m older than I look,’ Sondra said. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to pick up what I need to know.’
His brow furrowed a little. ‘There were some things in the AC– Uh, there were things in the notes on Arcane that kind of didn’t make sense. I mean, you look to be about… twenty-five? But the notes said you were there when they started Arcane in eighty-five.’
‘I was twenty-six when the Collapse happened,’ Sondra said, watching his face. ‘I don’t think I’ve aged since.’ She watched as he did some rapid calculations in his head. Everyone knew the date of the Collapse, though Sondra did not remember much of the cataclysmic event which shaped the modern world.
‘Wow. I hope I look as good as you when I’m eighty.’
There was no hint of alarm or disquiet and Sondra relaxed. ‘Thank you. I don’t consider myself vain, but it’s nice to hear compliments.’
Grant barked a laugh. ‘You can tell you’re not from Orlando. Everyone in the film business is at least a little vain.’
‘Even you?’
‘Oh, Hell, yeah. You don’t think you get this much muscle definition without the vanity to want it, do you?’ It was a point. ‘Anyway… Man, eighty years. You actually saw the Collapse.’
‘Not really.’ He gave her a quizzical frown. ‘I don’t really like talking about it.’
‘Oh, uh, sorry.’ He looked a little like a kicked puppy. A huge, black-skinned, bald, muscular, beautiful, kicked puppy.
Sondra sighed. ‘You’ve read the history books and seen the horror movies. The Cataclysm happened and a lot of weird stuff fell out of it.’
Grant nodded. ‘Orc citadels in California, Oregon, Poland, and Siberia. The horror stuff tends to focus on the sudden coming of magic and spirits. Possessions. People exploding.’
‘People with the right genes could suddenly do magic. Some of them couldn’t control it. Spontaneous combustion is not a nice way to go, but that’s not usual. These days, we can tell when someone has the talent pretty early and start training them to control it, or to avoid using it. Then… The night it happened, I was at home. Day off. I was a cop. My father was one and I’d been determined to follow him, but I had the day off and I was home. There were some reports about weird stuff happening in Europe, but we weren’t paying much attention. The sun went down on Halloween night and I went crazy. They took me to hospital, but there wasn’t anything they could do. I was committed. I was in an insane asylum for nine years while phantom voices screamed in my head.’
‘Shit!’
‘Exactly. But eventually the voices left me and I came out of it able to work magic.’
‘And not aging.’
She gave him a bleak smile. ‘Didn’t figure that out for a while. I finally admitted it on my fifty-eighth birthday. There’s aging gracefully and there’s “this is not natural.”’
‘If you could figure out what caused it and bottle it, you could make a fortune.’
Sondra gave a shrug. ‘I’ve got money enough and, let’s face it, I can make really long investments. Eventually I’m going to be rich just due to compound interest.’
Part Two: The Newbie
New York, NY, 10th February 2017.
‘Captain needs you in his office, Sondra.’
Sondra glanced at the desk sergeant and raised an eyebrow. ‘And good morning to you, Lisa.’
Lisa raised her own brows. ‘Good morning. Captain needs to see you in his office.’
Sondra’s lips quirked. She liked Lisa Brigham and they had a good relationship, even after ‘the night after the Christmas party which is never to be mentioned.’ ‘Am I going to hate this?’
‘That depends on…’ Lisa gave a shrug and hit the door release. ‘No, you’re not going to like it.’
‘Why do these things always happen on a Friday,’ Sondra grumbled, heading for the elevator.
Alison Doran was in the outer office at eight in the morning and Sondra expected a fight. Alison was an excellent secretary. She was somehow able to keep Captain Dickerson’s office running smoothly and his schedule to time. Part of how she achieved this was ruthless control over who was allowed to see her boss and when. She was a small woman with long, blonde hair which Sondra had never seen out of a bun, and green eyes which sparked with intelligence and the malign quality you might see in a rabid Rottweiler. Sondra both hated her and respected her.
‘Captain Dickerson is expecting you,’ Alison said without preamble and went back to whatever she was doing on her computer.
Blinking in surprise, Sondra walked through to the inner door, knocked twice, and then walked in. She knew exactly what the meeting was about as soon as she saw the blonde man sitting in front of Dickerson’s desk getting to his feet. And Dickerson saw her rapidly quashed expression of displeasure before she managed to tamp it down.
‘Captain,’ she said, ignoring the blonde for now.
‘Detect
ive,’ Dickerson acknowledged. ‘Take a seat.’
‘I’ll stand.’ The chairs sucked. They had been known to numb buttocks in under ten seconds.
‘As you wish.’ Dickerson knew the chairs sucked; he liked that they sucked. ‘Detective Sondra Blake, meet Detective Clarke Delacroix.’
The blonde stepped forward, offering his hand, and Sondra took it. He had a firm grip, but then he was a fit-looking man with signs of muscle in the slope of his shoulders and the slight stretching of his slacks around the thighs. He was a detective in the NYPD and he was wearing a tailored, three-piece suit? He was young – Sondra put him in his mid-twenties – and pale-skinned. The pallor was accentuated by fine, blonde hair cut short and parted on the left, and eyes which were a sharp blue-green. His eyebrows were thick but pale and he had eyelashes thick enough that an observer might have suspected mascara. He was attractive, not especially so, but he had high cheekbones and a strong jawline with a noticeable cleft to his chin.
‘I’m really pleased to meet you, Detective Blake,’ he said, smiling. ‘It’s an honour.’
‘Uh, thank you.’ Sondra looked at Dickerson, the question not needing to be asked.
‘He’s your new partner,’ Dickerson said, confirming what Sondra had suspected since seeing the man. Dickerson had been threatening her with a new partner for months.
‘Of course,’ Sondra said, turning back to Clarke. ‘In which case, you can call me Sondra when we’re not being formal.’
‘Clarke,’ he said in reply, and finally let go of her hand.
‘Okay. Do you want to say anything else, captain? Or can I show him our office?’
‘Go,’ Dickerson said, waving them toward the door. ‘Try not to break him before the end of shift.’
The expected question came as Sondra led the way down a flight of stairs to the floor where she had her office. ‘Uh, what did he mean by “break him?”’
‘I don’t have a great record with partners,’ Sondra replied. ‘But he was mostly just trying to wind you up.’ Another thing the film Grant was working on had got wrong was the bullpen. Mostly, the error was in thinking there was one. Every officer in Arcane had their own office, or one they shared with a partner. Sondra’s was one of three at the front of the building on that floor and she stepped into it almost straight from the narrow staircase which was opposite the elevator.
‘Uh, this is nice,’ Clarke said as he walked in behind her.
Sondra smirked. Her office was a study in ordered chaos. At least, that was what she told herself. There were three desks in it: one under the window and facing into the room, two against the side walls. A pair of three-drawer filing cabinets sat on either side of the left-hand desk, and the desk itself was piled with a few books and a lot of file folders. There was a chair beside the desk, but it was a straight-backed, uncomfortable-looking thing facing into the room. The other side desk had a rolling chair in front of it and a computer screen on top, but that was almost obscured by another pile of file folders. The desk under the window, Sondra’s desk, had trays and a computer, and was a little better organised with space to actually work on it, but the out-tray was still filled with case files.
‘That’s your desk,’ Sondra said, pointing to the right. ‘Your first job is going to be getting the files off it and into whatever place they should be in. I haven’t had a partner in a while and I’ve been getting behind on the filing.’
‘No kidding. How do you find anything in all this?’
‘Photographic memory. I know where everything is so long as I put it there.’ Sondra sat down in the straight-backed chair, her elbows on her knees and her fingers steepled as she leaned forward. As was usual for work, she was dressed in a pantsuit and low-heeled pumps. ‘Tell me about yourself.’
‘Uh, okay.’ Clarke sat opposite her, seeming unsure about how he should position himself. He settled for crossing his legs and resting his linked hands on his knee. ‘I was born and raised in Boston. My parents knew I was going to have some talent for magic and they–’
Sondra held up a hand to stop him. ‘You’re Anthony Delacroix’s son?’
‘I, uh, yeah. He doesn’t like you very much.’
Rolling her eyes, Sondra sighed. ‘It’s been a decade. You’d think he’d have given that up by now.’
‘You arrested him for obstruction. He hated that.’ Clarke held up a hand to forestall any rebuke. ‘I think he was probably guilty. He’s stubborn and arrogant, and those are some of his best qualities. He doesn’t like what I’m doing with my life and he’s going to hate that I’m working with you. I’ve already decided to volunteer for duty at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Family meals are going to be Hell for a while.’
Sondra smiled; okay, maybe this was not going to be too bad… ‘Okay, so if you’re out of the Delacroix stable, you’ve been taught from when you could string words together. Then… Harvard School of Magic?’
‘Uh-huh. Theoretical and Applied Magic, Masters in Elemental Magic, and a two-year course in analytical magic techniques at NYUM.’ He pronounced the acronym ‘ni-um,’ which was characteristic of ex-students and locals; the New York University of Magic was the oldest school of magic in the country and it was not far from Sondra’s apartment on the western edge of the East Village.
Doing some quick addition and factoring in the age she had estimated… Sondra leaned back in her chair. ‘And then you joined the NYPD and they fast-tracked you into Arcane.’
His grimace said a lot. Yes, they had. Yes, he knew what that meant to a seasoned cop. Yes, he knew what it meant to the seasoned cop saddled with a newbie. ‘You know what they say,’ he said with forced humour. ‘Hire students as early as possible while they still know everything.’
‘And do you know everything?’
‘No. That’s why I was happy when the captain assigned me to you.’
‘Okay. Good. So, you did the obligatory time on the street, but you were always aiming for Arcane. What do you know about what we really do?’
‘Uh, well, there’s permit checks for registered magical businesses. School visits to educate kids on magical safety.’
‘They don’t let me do those any more. Not since the fainting incidents in eighty-six.’
‘Fainting incidents?’
Sondra smirked. ‘Some kid was mouthing off about how learning magic from demons was perfectly safe if you knew what you were doing, so I explained exactly what happened when a demonologist got in over his head. Six of the class keeled over.’
‘Oh.’
‘And then we arrested the kid’s father for trafficking with demons. Did him a favour. He was almost lost. I figured another year before he was walking around killing his family. Go on.’
Clarke paused, remembering where he had got to. ‘There’s a load of other mundane policework where magic is involved. Uh, Arcane gets called in for things like fake mediums and cons where the perpetrator is faking magical talent. Then there’s the big stuff. Demonic cults, magical serial killers, large-scale magical events. The stuff that gets in the papers and ends up with a movie deal.’
‘You heard about the new Dillan Archer thing?’ She got a nod in reply. ‘Yeah. That’s going to be inaccurate, but probably good fun. Most of our work is in the East Village, which is why we’re stationed here. How much do you know about the area?’
‘I know Manhattan fairly well. I’m, uh, better acquainted with the Upper East Side.’ At Sondra’s questioning look he added, ‘My family insisted that if I was going to slum it at NYUM, I should have a reasonable place to stay. They bought me an apartment on Third Avenue. It’s not bad. Close to two subway stations. Not far from the park.’
‘Must be nice. Ever been up into Orctown? That’s the other big region for magic.’
Clarke nodded. ‘I know, and I’ve been there once.’
‘If we get some free time, I’ll take you up there and we’ll have a tour. The orc gangs are getting… restive. I’m not saying there will be trouble, but it’d be best if
you knew something about the place. Just in case.’
‘Right…’
‘Starting to wonder what you’ve let yourself in for?’
He shook his head, determined. ‘Exactly what I’ve been trying to do for the last five years.’
~~~
‘You should call your father and let him know about your new partner,’ Sondra said. She picked up stringy fries with her fingers and pushed them into her mouth, and also noted that Clarke was watching her doing it. Fries were not sexy food, but he was probably just getting used to her. It had taken most of her partners a few days to stop looking at her as if she was a supermodel.
Clarke shook himself and considered how best to attack his burger. Sondra was showing him the key spots in the Village and had decided to start off with lunch at Heady Brew. She figured he deserved a treat after a morning spent filing. ‘I’ll call my mother tonight. She’ll want to know how my first day went, and she doesn’t hate your guts. She can tell Pops.’
‘Coward.’ She flashed a grin to show she was joking.
‘Damn right,’ he replied anyway. ‘When it comes to Pops, discretion is the better part of valour.’
‘Somehow, I can’t see Anthony Delacroix liking being called “Pops.”’
‘He doesn’t. Small victories where I can get them. Mom says it’s petty, but she stifles giggles whenever he complains about it.’
‘You don’t get on well with him?’
‘He thinks I’m wasting my life. He… pushes. He wants me to be all I can be and pushes me to succeed.’
‘But he wants you to succeed at what he thinks is a good idea,’ Sondra said, nodding. ‘My father didn’t want me to be a cop, but he didn’t gripe about it when I joined the NYPD. He was a cop in Elizabeth. Elizabeth, New Jersey. I was born there.’
‘In nineteen thirty-six. I know. I read about you when you locked Pops in a holding cell. I figured I’d meet you when I requested Arcane, but I didn’t think I’d be working with you. I mean, you’re kind of a legend.’
‘Oh God, I have a fan,’ Sondra deadpanned.
‘It’s not like that! I just…’ He trailed off on seeing the sparkle in her eyes, and her lips turned up at the corners as she reached for more fries. ‘I bet you do have fans.’
The Vanity Case (Sondra Blake Book 1) Page 2
