Will rubbed his nose. “Maybe. My instincts tell me there are—he’s playing a game. He’s said it more than once. It’s not much of a game if he’s running around creating havoc, and we’re chasing him after the fact. Unless it’s just about him scoring points. But where’s the fun in playing a game with someone so much worse than you? I remember playing rugby at school. Our team was one of the best in all the county schools. It was never much fun when we beat a team sixty to nil. If you can win with your eyes closed, there’s no testing of skills, pushing yourself, achieving your best. Unless this guy just likes to watch the PIB flounder, and he enjoys our added confusion?”
Angelica fiddled with the top button on her shirt. “He told us what he was doing last time. He enjoyed watching us scramble and still be unable to stop it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s giving us clues, and us missing them is his way of saying he’s better than us again.”
I handed Will the phone. Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my thighs and rested my face in my palms. “What’s he got planned? Any ideas? I mean, he’s cursed PIB agents, stolen money from one of the biggest banking institutions in the UK, killed five innocent people with lightning strikes… now what? I hate to think of the magnitude of it if it’s going to be the worst one yet.” Nausea twisted in my belly and thickened in my throat.
A knock sounded on the reception-room door. I looked at Angelica. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“Yes. Imani. Can you let her in, dear?”
I jumped up and hurried to answer the door. The little video monitor outside the room—a new addition—showed Imani patiently waiting. I opened the door and smiled. “Hey, stranger! Haven’t seen you for a few days.”
“Here I am, love, in all my reinstated magical glory.” She grinned and flung her arms in the air.
I laughed and locked the door. “Come on through, Miss Fabulous.”
“Don’t you know it.” She emphasised her hip sway as she strutted to the living room. Imani sat next to Angelica, and Will handed her the phone so she could read the message. After a minute, she gave the phone back. “Hmm. There’s definitely something in that, but what? Have any of you come up with anything?”
“We think Angelica is the fair lady, for obvious reasons, and the PIB is going to come tumbling down—like that old nursery rhyme about London Bridge.” Even though I’d grown up in Australia, having the British roots we did, every kid knew that one. The song played in my head. At least the tune wasn’t too bad, but I still didn’t want it on loop in my head for the whole day.
Will and Angelica looked at each other. He said, “You don’t think… do you?”
She nodded slowly. “It’s possible. But what?”
It took me a moment before I got what they were on about. “You think he’ll attack London Bridge?” They both nodded. “So what do we do? Camp out there for a few days? At least we know what he looks like, so when he turns up, we can nab him.”
Angelica leaned back and crossed her legs. “We could. But what if we’re wrong and we miss the opportunity to stop what he’s really going to do?”
Imani spoke. “I’m all for doing something. Maybe send Will and me to watch the bridge while you, James, and Lily keep pondering the message. Let us know if you come up with anything else.”
The longer they talked about it, the more unsettled I became. “Would his clue really be that easy? Or what if it’s a trick to get agents there just so he can hurt them or strike somewhere where they’re not?”
“We can’t know for sure, dear. All we can do is prepare for any eventuality. At least there’s one thing he doesn’t know, and that’s that we have our powers back. He probably isn’t expecting much PIB presence anywhere, to be honest. More than two thirds of our force have been affected by the curse. Even though they struck when there weren’t many agents at headquarters, the alarm drew everyone afterwards, which is exactly what they wanted.” She looked between Will and Imani as she spoke. “Because no one knows you can both travel, you should be able to come and go without notice, but leave your phones at home, just in case one of the directors has managed to bug them. Where’s yours, Imani?”
She grinned. “At home. I figured as much.”
“Good work. Make sure you keep out of sight. Find somewhere inconspicuous.” Will angled his head down and gave her a look that said, “How long have I been doing this for?” Angelica kept her boss face on, giving no apologies whatsoever. Such an Angelica thing to do. “And you both know what he looks like.” Will and Imani nodded. “In the meantime, Lily and I will do our best to track down who he is.”
Will stood. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll grab a burner phone while we’re out so we can keep you updated.” He placed his phone on the table. “Don’t worry about answering it if it rings. Let it go to messages.”
Imani stood and looked at Will. “Where to?”
“Tower Bridge. We can travel to the landing spot at Tower Hill tube station. That bridge is the perfect spot to watch from—crowded and far away enough that he’ll never notice us watching, yet it has an unimpeded view. I’ll also take these.” He held his hand up, and a pair of large binoculars appeared. “PIB issue.” He smiled as if that explained everything. It kind of did, but not totally.
“What’s so great about PIB ones?” If I didn’t ask, no one would volunteer the information.
Will answered, “They’re made using magic, so you don’t have to perform a spell when you use them. They can focus much further than normal ones of this size, and their field of vision is wider. And if I want to use my magic to send it an image of what the quarry looks like, it will highlight him by putting a little red arrow over his head, pointing at him. All images are recorded as well, kind of like a video camera. I guess it’s a video camera with a super-duper zoom lens.”
Imani magicked her coat on. “We’ll wear no-notice spells so we don’t get asked to move on for being suspicious. This will be a cinch.” Another pair of those special binoculars appeared in her hand.
Will magicked his gun to himself, pocketed it, and moved to the middle of the room where there was some space. “See you ladies later. I’ll text you my number as soon as I grab a phone. Keep me updated, and I’ll do the same.” He made the doorway.
“Bye,” Imani said, then stepped through. Will followed on her heels, and they disappeared.
A chill rippled through me. Guns meant potentially deadly stuff, and only specially trained police here carried them. Most police didn’t have one. The PIB was a special case, and when dealing with dangerous witches, you needed every self-defence mechanism you could get.
“Right!” Angelica said rather loudly.
I jumped in fright. “Oh my God. Did you have to do that?” I slowed my rapid breathing.
“Sorry, dear. I’m just keen to start. Here.” Her magic skimmed my scalp, and a thick, A4 blue display folder appeared on the table. “Have a look through that. Read everything and tell me your thoughts.”
I picked it up. “What’s in here?”
“Lots of plastic sheets filled with information on the prisoners who were killed in the blast the other day. James sent it to me this morning. I haven’t had a chance to look through it yet. I was hoping you could do that while I examine Dr Finnegan more closely.” She waggled her eyebrows, obviously referencing her terrible pun. It was nice to not be the only person who had questionable humour. I chuckled. “We did background checks when he first joined, but that was fourteen years ago. I’ll start on the laptop, but I’m going to need to go out later.”
I stood. “Okay. Let’s do this. I’m going to set myself up on the kitchen table—it’ll be easier to spread out. But make sure you tell me when you’re going out. Maybe take my phone and leave yours here—no one is tracking me at the moment, as far as I know.”
“Good idea.”
I shuffled off to the kitchen and magicked myself a cup of coffee—most things were better while drinking it. I was sure the only good thing about most meetings was the cate
ring. At least it gave people something to look forward to. Shame all meetings weren’t catered.
It took me some time, but I eventually had a pile of paper representing the deceased criminals. Their crimes ranged from embezzlement to murder, and their sentences varied. Overall, twenty-six inmates had been killed—a sizable number—and two prison guards. Once I’d established who’d been killed and who’d survived, I read each file, starting with the dead criminals. All up, there were three hundred and seventy prisoners in the witch lock-up. And every inmate who died was a member of the same gang. They called themselves the Shadow Banes. Looked like they weren’t as lethal as they thought.
It had taken three hours, but I was done. I took my notes to Angelica, who was on her laptop in the living room. She looked up and around as she was facing the window. “Have you got something for me?”
“I sure do.” I handed her the book and sat on the other Chesterfield. “Every inmate killed was in the same gang. They managed to wipe out the entire group. Looks like this could have originated from inside the prison, unless everyone in that gang was just unlucky to be in that section at the time, but it seems unlikely. They were even less lucky than the guy who’s been hit by lightning three times.” Although, maybe that guy was lucky since he’d survived all three strikes.
She stared at me, her face aghast. “Are you sure one man has been hit three times?”
“Yep. I saw it on Facebook.”
She smirked. “Oh, it must be true then.”
“It was just shared there. I think it was originally a news thing. Whatever.” For once, I didn’t care if she made fun of me—we needed to get to the reason the gang had been wiped out. Was it accidental or deliberate? “Do you think it was an inside job?”
“Hang on a minute, dear, and let me read your notes.” She took her time going through them and magicked some of the papers from the dining table to herself. She looked through everything. “Hmm, you’re right.”
I refrained from saying, “Der, I know,” but I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. Why did she always have to question my work? I was awesome, dammit! “What do you think?”
“I think I’d like to look at the rest of the files. I only have the files for the deceased.” She stood and made her way out of the room. I followed her to the kitchen, where she poured over the printouts on the table. She picked out one piece of paper and studied it. When she looked at me, excitement shone in her eyes. “I knew there was something familiar about our lightning guy.” She handed me the paper.
I sucked in a breath. “Wow, they sure resemble each other. This could be his brother.” The man on the page had similar facial features and looked to be in his early twenties. The biggest difference was the tattoo covering his neck and jawline. It wasn’t clear what it was, but there was lots of green, black, and red.
“I’m betting it is. Byron Lord. Convicted for making and selling drugs and three counts of attempted murder for blowing up a rival gang member’s drug lab. He’s serving the second year of a twenty-five-year sentence. His father, also a career criminal, was killed four years ago by a PIB agent in self-defence. His brother’s name is Shamus. Hang on a moment.” Her laptop appeared on the table. She sat in front of it and typed while I sat next to her and observed.
After a few minutes of hopping from one site to the next, she ended up on Facebook at Simone Lord’s page. Her details page didn’t have anything about linked family members, but there were public photos of her with her two sons and another man—whether he was her partner, brother, or simply a friend, it was impossible to tell. But there was no mistaking her two sons and the comments from friends, which included, You and your boys are looking fab!
“Do you think Shamus was responsible for the explosion? Maybe trying to break his brother out? Or did his brother put him up to it to kill his enemies?”
“That’s something we need to find out. Plus, we must get physical proof of everything. This is all speculation, especially Dr Finnegan’s role in it. We can’t show anyone your photos, plus, they wouldn’t mean anything to them in isolation—it’s an innocent photo of the doctor; that’s it. He could be our key to this.”
“But we have the magical signature used at the thefts plus at the PIB. That will tie Shamus to it.”
“True, but if his brother is involved, we want to make sure he’s punished too. Give him longer in jail. I don’t want to spook anyone. Once they know we’re after them, it will make it so much harder. I don’t trust the new guy to get the job done without bungling it. And if Dr Finnegan knows we’re onto him, he’ll run.”
“So why is Shamus taunting us? Surely he’d want to move as stealthily as possible?”
She shrugged. “Why does anyone do what they do? He might have an ego problem, or he hates us. We did imprison his brother and kill his father. In fact, I was on the team investigating organised crime when his father was killed, and I led the team that put his brother away. He has every reason to despise me.”
“Well, what do we do now?” A loud knock came from the reception room. “I’ll get it.” I stood and hurried over. The screen showed James waiting within. I opened the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“We got another message. Whatever is happening at the bridge is happening soon. The message said he was bored and felt like implementing his next plan by midnight. I didn’t tell Chad what we thought—I don’t want him spooking the guy or mucking anything up.”
“Right, well, we have some news too. Maybe go into the kitchen and see Angelica.” I would have loved to have told him, but she was really running the show, and she would know exactly what to tell James; then they could decide what to do next. During my organisation of the criminal files, Will had texted me his new number, so I guessed we’d be contacting him with all the details as soon as James and Angelica had finished their chat.
We joined Angelica in the kitchen and sat at the table. He gave her the latest news, and she reciprocated. She looked at her watch. “It’s two thirty. We potentially have nine and a half hours. Let’s hope he doesn’t act earlier.”
“Are you going to try and catch him before he gets there? James would be able to get his address.”
James bit his bottom lip. “We’ll suss it out, but unless I notify headquarters, I won’t be able to get a warrant, and I don’t know that it’s wise to tell them. They’ll likely stuff it up, and once he knows we’re coming, he’ll go to ground, and then who knows what havoc he’ll cause. If we go without their knowledge and something goes wrong, it will be exactly what the directors need to get rid of Ma’am for good, and they might even lay charges.”
“Crap.”
Angelica nodded. “Crap, indeed.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s not focus on what we can’t do. We must concentrate on what we can do.” She turned to my brother. “I’d like you to take this information”—she waved at the paperwork lying on the table—"and say Olivia helped you sift through it. Get permission to interview the inmates—specifically Byron. Obviously, interview the other ones in his gang too, concentrate on the weaker ones, those lower down the food chain. They may know less, but they’re more likely to cave and give you information. Anything about the motivation for the jail catastrophe would be helpful.”
I knew it was wrong, but I had to suggest it. “Can’t he subtly compel Byron to talk?”
Angelica’s disappointment was palpable. “Prisoners have rights, too, and if James was to get caught, he would face jail time. I’m not going to risk it—we have enough problems. And I can’t see Chad approving something like that either. He might be stupid, but he’s a rule follower—that’s why they’ve put him there. They know he’ll be motivated to ‘do the right thing’ by the bureau, in other words, find dirt on the misbehaving Agent DuPree.” She rolled her eyes. “We have to play this by the book as much as possible.”
“I’m sure I can get Chad to agree once he sees this. He may be stupid, but he does have the bureau’s best interests at heart—at least his percep
tion of what they are. I’ll let you know how I go. And if you need backup in London, ping me.”
Angelica gave a nod. “Will do.”
James focussed on me. “If you go with them, be careful, do what you’re told, etcetera, etcetera. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful and obedient.” I held my hands up as if they were paws, stuck my tongue out, and panted like a dog.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable. You know that?”
I grinned. “I like to think of it as I give as good as I get.”
He stood and magicked all the pages into the folder and then the folder into his hand. “Well, just come back safely. I take it you’ll travel the suspect straight to the PIB?”
“Yes,” said Angelica. “I’m willing to take full responsibility. It shouldn’t get me into too much trouble because we have his magic signature on file. But if we do arrest him, we’ll have to figure out how to deal with Dr Finnegan ASAP. We don’t have any evidence—other than Lily’s photographs—linking him to Shamus, and I don’t like our chances of getting Shamus to talk. But it is what it is because we’re running out of time.” She looked at her watch again. “That’s another fifteen minutes gone.” Uneasiness slithered through me, and the hairs on my arms jumped to attention. What was he going to do, and could we stop it in time?
“Right. I’ll see you both later.” James made his doorway and left.
I wasn’t convinced we were doing the right thing. Niggling acid churned in my stomach. “We’re missing something. I have a feeling, but I can’t figure it out.”
“I’m afraid that whether we are or not, we’ve reached a point where we have to act on the information we have. Taking everything into account, we’re doing the best we can, and I think we’ve made the right decisions.” She had years of experience, and countless successful operations to her name. I just had to trust she was right.
I swallowed the rising vapour of fear. “When do you want to go?”
Witch Cursed in Westerham Page 15
