by S. C. Stokes
Kasey approached the chief, unsure exactly what she wanted to say. She simply felt her account of the tragedy might be of value.
The chief looked up and locked eyes with her. His expression changed from somber to surprise.
“Miss Chase, when I authorized your personal leave, this isn't exactly how I expected you might use it.”
“Hello, Chief. Trust me, this isn't what I had in mind when I came here tonight.”
“Speaking of,” the chief began, “how exactly did you come to be here? Not exactly the sort of crowd I'd have expected to see you in.”
“I know, right?” Kasey replied. “My bank balance is a few zeros short of earning me an invite. I was here with the Ainsleys.”
She was stretching the truth and she knew it. In light of how the evening's events had gone, she didn't feel the chief would respond well to her having broken into the gala.
“The Ainsleys?” the chief asked. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be here with them either.”
“You and me both,” she replied. “But they reached out to me this morning, after we took down the serial killer. Arthur reached out to express his support. Personally, I didn't really feel like sifting through my grilled apartment, so a little bit of procrastination on my part and I ended up here.”
Chief West nodded as he replied. "Last night, a serial killer. Tonight, this mess. If I were you, I’d lock myself in a little box and not go out tomorrow night.”
“I'll take that advice on board, chief, but seriously, how much bad luck can one person have?”
“Let us both hope this is the end of it,” he replied. “After this chaos, it will be all hands-on deck until we get this under control. Consider your leave revoked.”
Kasey wanted to protest. She had planned on using her leave from the Department to investigate the organization that had sent Danilo to kill her.
“But Chief…”
“Kasey, it’s done. We’ll see you bright and early in the morning. Don't be late.”
“Yes, chief,” she said. There simply wasn't any other response he would accept. “So much for some rest.”
“Don’t be like that Kasey,” he replied. “I’m sure we can find you a cell if you want it? No one will bother you there.”
“I’ll pass, thanks, chief. Maybe next time, though.”
The chief was teasing but she knew better than to test him.
"Also, Chase, find Bishop. She will take your statement for tonight, and last night while you're at it. We need to wrap that up. Then go home and get some rest. It's safe to say we'll all be busy until this mess is put to rest. With a tragedy of this magnitude, the press will be all over us.”
The press, Kasey’s least favorite part of the job.
She changed the topic. “Speaking of Bishop, where I can find her?”
“Last I saw her, she was taking statements in the foyer out front. Head on out. I’m sure you'll find her there.”
Kasey wasn't looking forward to seeing Bishop. She had dodged giving her statement at the precinct. In light of where she was and how she was dressed, not having time hardly seemed like a justifiable excuse. The reality was, the only other answers Kasey had to give, contained information that would reveal the existence of the world of magic.
Caught between the Council and her partner, Kasey had intentionally avoided giving a statement. Lying straight to Bishop's face made her uncomfortable and the last thing she needed was Bishop rooting around, searching for answers that Kasey couldn't give her.
With no way of avoiding Bishop, Kasey gave in and headed for the foyer.
The large entryway of the museum was as grand as the rest of the structure. Impressive art lined the walls, centuries of culture worth untold millions of dollars. Inside the foyer, a bevy of New York's wealthy elite gave statements to a group of police officers.
Beyond the large glass doors, the wall of press snapped away with their cameras, seeking to cover every aspect of the tragedy as it unfolded.
Kasey spotted Bishop through the crowd. She was taking a statement from one of the gala’s guests. Kasey was surprised to see it was Mrs. Cardston, the woman whose refusal to surrender her ring had turned the robbery into a firefight. Against all odds, the woman had survived, no doubt in no small part due to Stanley's heroism.
Mrs. Cardston was a mess. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to give an account of the evening’s events.
Kasey empathized with the woman as she knew what it felt like to be that close to death. Her experiences with Danilo had left her shaken to the core.
She waited patiently for Bishop to finish, standing just outside of Bishop’s peripheral vision.
"Are there any other details you can give us that might help us track down the men who did this?" Bishop asked.
Mrs. Cardston dabbed at her eyes with a white handkerchief. "It all happened so fast. I just didn't see very much. I am sorry.”
Bishop patted the woman on the back. “It’s okay. That’s normal during such a traumatic event. If you do remember anything else, here is my number." Bishop handed the woman her card and turned the page in her notepad, ready to take the next statement.
Here goes nothing. Kasey cut in front of the next guest, a man in a tux.
"Hey! I was next,” the man called. “Some of us want to get out of here before midnight.”
Kasey raised a hand to silence him. "I’ll only be a minute, and she is my partner.”
Bishop raised her head to Kasey. Her gaze travelled down Kasey as she took in the slinky silver dress. The color in her cheeks seem to grow redder and redder with every passing second.
"Look, Bishop..."
"Oh, I’m glad to see you made it to the party, Kasey,” Bishop started. “You couldn’t spare five minutes to give me a statement today but it's nice to know you could squeeze in a shopping trip and a gala."
“Bishop, it’s not like that.”
“It looks like that from here,” Bishop replied. “As usual, you're running around getting into trouble and I'm here to clean up the mess. The least you could have done was take five minutes to tell me what happened last night.”
The man in the tux pushed forward again. "Last night? Who cares what happened last night. There was a mass shooting here only minutes ago. Take this little spat and deal with it on your own time."
Kasey turned to the man and drove her finger into his chest. "Just like you, I've spent the last hour being shot at. Unlike you, however, I’ve spent the time since the attack trying to save as many lives as possible, while you've sat here waiting and complaining. My time is precious, there are people here who still need medical attention, and if you keep interrupting, you’ll need it too.”
“Did you just threaten me?” the man replied indignantly, his voice raising with each syllable.
“Oh, no, sir,” Kasey responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “A threat is a verbose statement that men like you use to get their way. That, sir, was a promise. Now back off, before I decide to make good on it.”
The man turned to Bishop for help.
Bishop simply shook her head. “I’d do what she says. Last night, she killed a man with her bare hands. It may have been self-defense, but she did it all the same. So, unless you want to take a chance with your life, I’d step back and give her the space.”
The man in the tux grumbled as he stormed off.
“Look, Bishop,” Kasey began. “I know you're upset but...”
“I'm not upset, Kasey. I'm angry,” Bishop replied, cutting her off.
“About what?” Kasey asked shaking both her hands in exasperation. “I did exactly what you asked. It's not like I ran off and got myself in trouble, or intentionally tried to tackle the killer without you. I stayed in the station just like you asked. Unfortunately, so did he. He knocked me out and kidnapped me from the morgue. It was hardly my choice.”
“You think I don't know that?” Bishop shook her head as she avoided meeting Kasey’s gaze. “I'm not angry at you, Ka
sey. I'm angry at myself. I'm angry that I didn't see through his stupid little ruse. I'm angry that I didn't even run his credentials through our system, and most of all, I'm angry that I left you alone when you needed me most.”
Kasey realized her mistake. She’d believed herself to be the target of Bishop’s anger. Now she knew better. It wasn’t directed at her at all. She’d just been collateral damage.
“Don't beat yourself up, Bishop,” Kasey replied putting her arm around Bishop. “You've done far more for me in the last ten days than anyone else for a long time. You have put your life and your career on the line for me and I'm grateful for it.”
“That's not the worst of it,” Bishop replied as she tapped her notepad against her palm. “I'm mostly upset about why I did let him slip past my guard. I should have known better than to trust him, but I let his husky voice get under my guard. I should have known better, I guess I'm just...”
“Just what?” Kasey asked softly.
“Just frustrated,” Bishop answered, looking down at her feet. “I guess I just thought my life would be further along by now. I am thirty-five and I’m still single. I haven't had a serious relationship in almost five years and I guess I'm a little worried that life is passing me by.”
Kasey was gob smacked. She'd never seen this side of Bishop. She was withdrawn and vulnerable. It was unlike the Diane Bishop she had come to know in her brief time at the NYPD.
"Look, Bishop.” Kasey drew Bishop in for a hug. “You’re the strongest woman I've ever met. You may be thirty-five but you're already a detective in the NYPD. What's more, you're killing it in a city where crime never sleeps. You have one of the highest closure rates of anyone in the precinct. Maybe the city.
“Don't beat yourself up because you’re down a boyfriend. Any man would be lucky to have you. I think that they, like everyone else in the city, might be just a little intimidated by you. Hang in there. You’ll find a man with the balls to ask you out, or maybe you’ll have to ask him. Either way, it'll be worth the wait. You don't need a man to define you. You kick ass all on your own.”
Bishop raised her head. “Thanks, Kasey. I really needed that.”
She wiped her eye to prevent a tear from rolling down her cheek.
“Hey, Bishop. I know now probably isn't a good time, but the chief wanted me to give you my statement both for last night and tonight.”
“Now is as good a time as any,” Bishop replied.
“Where do you want to start?” Kasey asked. “Tonight, or last night?”
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea what happened last night,” Bishop replied. “I saw the scene after all, and you just filled in most of the blanks. Tell me about tonight. I want to know what happened and more importantly, I want to know how the heck you managed to get an invite to the gala?”
Kasey considered her words carefully. “Any chance we can talk off the record, just for a moment?”
Bishops eyes narrowed, as they bored into Kasey's soul. "You didn't get an invite to the gala, did you Kasey?"
“Perhaps not in the regular sense of the word.”
“So, you broke in?” Bishop asked.
“I would call it gatecrashing at worst,” Kasey replied. “How does that rank on a scale of misdemeanor through to felony?"
Bishop sighed. “Gatecrashing Kasey? The courts call it break and entering and you could get seven years for it."
Chapter Nine
Morning found Kasey back at the station and on active duty as the chief had dictated. Her holiday of a single day was over, and she was back at the grindstone. The tragedy at the gala had dominated the evening news. With suspects still at large, the tension in the precinct was palpable.
Kasey was working on her reports when a cheery voice cut through the silence of the morgue. "Well, I heard someone was the belle of the ball."
"Morning, Vida," Kasey said as he stepped into the room.
As always, he was cheerier than Kasey thought possible at such an early hour.
"And a good morning to you. I have to say, Kasey, things have certainly spiced up since you arrived. I remember a time when we actually had days between killings in this city. I even had the time to investigate a few accidental deaths here and there. Now it's all serial killings and mass shootings. Definitely a change of pace, that's for sure.”
"Don't blame me, Vida.” Kasey replied putting down her pen. “These lunatics were here before me, and I imagine they'll be here long after I'm gone. It's just unfortunate that they all seem to have come out of the woodwork in the last few weeks.”
"Perhaps,” Vida mused raising a finger. “Though you must admit, the bizarre seems to follow you like your own personal storm cloud. At least while your tenure here lasts, we know there’ll never be a dull moment. Speaking of the bizarre, that killer’s body, the one from your apartment, it never did get located. You’re sure it wasn’t here yesterday when you came in?”
“Definitely not,” Kasey replied shaking her head. “I would remember seeing the body of the man who tried to kill me, don't you think?"
There was no way she could tell him what had truly happened. She simply hoped that if she deflected him for long enough, he would put the lost body down to bureaucratic inefficiency and move on.
She couldn't have him digging around looking for answers. The Arcane Council would not put up with it, and Kasey didn't quite trust them to deal with Vida kindly. They had warned as much when he’d unknowingly submitted a strand of Werewolf hair to the FBI for analysis.
Vida may have been inquisitive but as far as bosses go, he was one of the best she'd ever had. She didn't want to have to gamble on a replacement and she'd grown rather fond of the English-born Indian, and his quirky sense of humor.
"That's odd,” Vida said drumming his fingers on the steel table, “because the uniforms that brought him in assured me that they left him here on the examination table."
"I don't know what to tell you, Vida. Have you checked the drawers?"
"Twice," Vida replied holding up two fingers for emphasis. "Not a sign of him anywhere."
Kasey shrugged and through up her hands. "Sorry, I wish I could help but I have no idea."
Vida shrugged. “Oh, well, I'm sure it will turn up eventually. In the meantime, we’ll need to get to work on the bodies from last night. With the publicity in the press, there is a ton of pressure on West. You can guess what that means for us.”
"Yeah, the chief isn't much for the media. I suppose it’s full steam ahead to process the bodies. At least that way we can get their families some closure,” Kasey replied.
“There is that,” Vida answered. "We also need to find out anything from them. We still need a lead on the two that got away."
“So, still no word?” Kasey asked shuffling her papers back into their folder to clear space. “I figured we'd have nabbed them by now. How far could the two of them have gotten on foot?”
“Farther than we thought, evidently. They must've slipped out of the museum undetected before the perimeter was established. Patrols have been scouring the city all night, but still no sign of them."
“Clearly they had thought through the possibility of the alarm being raised. They hit the gala knowing they could make it out in time. The only thing they don’t seem to have planned on was just how attached a few rich folks would be to their trinkets. Clearly, they were smarter than we gave them credit for."
"I don't know about that,” Vida replied. "Six of them are dead. One of them in is in the hospital in critical condition and the other is in custody downstairs.
“The two of them that did get away, did so empty-handed. Now they have nothing to show for their efforts and a rap sheet that will land them life in prison if they are caught.
“Now every cop in New York City is after them. Last night's shooting left twenty-two people dead. Several more are in critical condition. When they are caught, they'll be lucky if they're not charged with terrorism as well. A jury of their peers will make sure the
y spend the rest of their life behind bars.”
"The part I don't get is the vests,” Kasey replied. “I saw the explosive. But despite the firefight, not a single one went off. Talk about lucky."
"That's the interesting part, Kasey,” Vida answered. “The vests were fake. The bomb squad took them apart last night. Nothing but painted clay and a few wires to look the part. They were hoping the threat would be enough to deter anyone from taking a shot at them. It’s a hell of a bluff when you think about it. Shame it didn't pay off for them. The whole thing might have ended without a shot fired."
Just one more bizarre detail in a very strange night.
"What was it like?" Vida asked. "I've always wondered what I would do if I was stuck in a situation like that."
"It was chaos," Kasey admitted. "Everything happened so fast. At first, we were just trying to survive. There were so many of them. It's a miracle more people weren’t killed."
"There is a dozen more in the hospital, Kasey, I'm sure they would disagree with you."
"You weren't there, Vida. It was a shooting gallery and we were lined up like sitting ducks. There should have been far more casualties."
Then Kasey realized it.
The words of Arthur Ainsley came flooding back into her mind. Many of the Arcane Council had been there, along with their security. The council must have subtly used their powers to shield as many people as they could. Without them, the death toll could have been enormous.
In the thick of the shooting, Kasey hadn't even noticed them at work. She knew that John's spell had saved her life. The subtle little incantation had jammed one of the thief’s weapons as he had drawn a bead on Kasey. Doubtless the other witches and wizards had been at work mitigating as much of the carnage as they could.
"So, where do you want to start?" Vida’s question drew Kasey from her reflection.
"Start on what?” Kasey asked.
"Examining the bodies,” Vida replied. “You know that thing we do here… work… as medical examiners… I'm a little worried that I have to spell this out for you. Are you sure you're all right?"
