Arms Dealers

by Erik Henry Vick

  “Okay, so one Norwegian Wood Troll, but two axes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “No, there was another one, too,” said Michelle in her childish voice. “An ugly little guy with a beautiful voice.”

  “Oh?” Leery arched an eyebrow at her, and when she returned his stare with empty eyes, he shrugged. “Okay, we’ll get back to him. The big one, what did he do with them?”

  “After he chopped off my arms? He slid the axes into his belt.”

  “Not the axes. Your arms.”

  Katy closed her eyes and seemed to grow more translucent. Jenn murmured something singsong in the Verba Patiendi, and the spirit’s image solidified again. The ghost opened her mouth as though to suck in a deep breath, and her eyes snapped open as nothing happened.

  “No lungs,” said Leery. “You’ll get used to that, too.”

  The spirit shuddered but otherwise held it together. “Right. He stuffed my arms into this big sack he carried. It was like leather but had clumps of hair all over it.”

  “Trolls don’t make the best tanners.” Leery gestured at Michelle. “Is that what he did with your arms, too?”

  Michelle glanced at him wide-eyed, then turned away and began humming a nursery rhyme set to music.

  “Yeah,” said Katy. “It looked like the bag was heavy with…with…”

  “Right. Anything you remember about the troll? Any distinguishing features?”

  “You mean other than being a troll? I really didn’t notice.”

  “How big was he?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe half again as big as you.”

  “So, nine or ten feet. That makes sense.” He nodded his head toward Michelle. “Did she tell you how she ended up back here?”

  Katy grimaced. “All she said was she ‘followed the song.’”

  “Followed the song, eh?”

  “Yeah. Does that mean something to you?”

  Leery took another gulp of coffee. “Sure does. Anything else you can tell me?”

  “It happened so fast…”

  “Yeah, it always does.” Leery glanced at Hinton and nodded. She uttered a phrase in the Language of Suffering and both spirits faded away.

  “Want me to check for unseelie activity?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Nodding, Hinton closed maroon lids over her glowing purple eyes and chanted softly. The air began to shimmer as it had when she conjured the dead women, but this time it created a glowing river in midair. The river went from behind one of the dumpsters, out of the courtyard, and then turned right into the alley. “Definitely a bugge,” murmured Hinton.

  “Well, there goes my relaxing weekend off,” Leery grumbled.

  “Why would an unseelie and a wood troll act in concert?” asked Dru.

  “Normally, they wouldn’t,” said Hinton, letting her invocation fade.

  “You can bet there’s a motivating force behind it all.”

  “What kind of motivation would bring a troll and an unseelie together?”

  “The same kind that makes politicians from either side of the aisle work in concert: money. It’s a great equalizer.”

  5

  Lieutenant Van Helsing appeared next to Leery’s desk as he and Dru came in. “What’s the story, Oriscoe?”

  Dru jumped and rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, hey there, Lieu. Don’t mind my partner here, she just met Hinton. She’s still spooked.”

  “Have you ever considered a career in comedy, Leery?”

  “Sure, that’s why I joined the NYPD.”

  “Oh, he’s got jokes, now,” said Van Helsing in a dead voice.

  “Yeah, uh, so, the bodies near West End.”

  “If you have the time,” said Epatha.

  “Right. Two women. Both bled to death following the amputation of both arms. Michelle Williams and Katy Costello. Both residents of Lincoln Square. We guessed—”

  “Their arms?”

  “Yeah, Lieu. Both arms are missing from each corpse, and that’s the only thing missing. Both women have their jewelry, their wallets and ID, even their phones.”

  “Tell me why it’s our case.”

  Leery glanced at Dru and gave her a slight shake of his head, warning her off. “We figured it was an ambush of the second victim. The first seems to have been pure misfortune on the victim’s part—she was unfortunate enough to be caught in an unseelie’s summoning song—but the second…that was a crime of opportunity. Hinton’s preliminary invocations back that up.”

  “Suspects?”

  “Uh, everyone southwest of 220th street.”

  “Why exclude the Bronx?” snapped Van Helsing.”

  “Because you’d think I’m a smartass if I included them,” said Leery with a wry grin.

  “Yeah, right.” Van Helsing rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the beginnings of a grin.

  “We think a Norwegian Wood Troll did the heavy lifting, and, of course, an unseelie to sing the summoning song.”

  “That pairing seems unlikely.”

  “Sure, but that’s what the victims told us when Hinton summoned them.”

  “What other evidence is there?”

  Leery shrugged. “Not much. The wounds look weird, but until Liz does her thing, we won’t know much else.”

  “We have the phones,” said Dru.

  “Oh, right. The way I figure it, Lieu, the first vic was in the wrong place, yaddy. The perp answered an incoming call from the second victim and laid on some story about her friend being hurt.”

  “Like you said, ambush.”

  “And they say you’re losing touch with the street.”

  “Who says that?” said Epatha, turning a freezing gaze on Oriscoe.

  Leery shrugged out of his coat and pretended he didn’t hear her. “Anyway, both vics took simultaneous blows at the shoulders, and it looks like both arms came off with a single strike.”

  “That takes strength.”

  “And precision.”

  Epatha looked at him. “But working with an unseelie?”

  “Who else could do it, Lieu? That kind of strength…”

  “And that precision would come from centuries of melee violence.”

  “Right.”

  “But that’s blocks and blocks from the Queensboro Bridge. That’s the closest one, right?”

  Leery shrugged. “Hey, this is the modern era, Lieu. Even trolls have driver’s licenses these days.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never heard of a troll doing something like this.”

  Van Helsing arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Uh, away from a bridge, I mean.”

  “Hey, even trolls can find gainful employment in the age of Craig’s List.”

  “Hitmen?”

  Van Helsing shook her head. “Mercenaries.” The lieu floated aimlessly away from their desks. She turned back and looked at Leery. “What kind of asshole would want to send this kind of message?”

  Leery shrugged. “It’s worse than that, Lieu. The victims were mundanes.”

  “Oh, great. A troll and an unseelie teamed up to commit murder, and they didn’t even have the good grace to kill a supernatural? Now I’ll have the Mayor and his grace, the Cynosure, breathing down my neck by way of the Locus Magister, the Chief of Ds, and everyone else.”

  “Too bad we can’t pick the victims of the crimes we investigate.”

  “Yeah, too bad,” said Epatha as she began to fade in and out. She disappeared without another word.

  “Is she…”

  “Yeah, she’s gone, Dru.”

  “She’s so uptight.”

  “You try being the daughter of a famous paladin turned Grand Cynosure, then dying in the line of duty and coming back to work the next day. It’s enough to make anyone cranky.”

  Chapter 2

  The Investigation

  1

  Leery turned into an alley between East 60th and East 59th and pulled bumper to bumper with a silver Chrysle
r minivan. Dru rolled her head to look at him as he goosed the go pedal and the rear tires began to shriek and smoke.

  “You could always find an open spot.”

  “What, and miss all this fun?” Leery turned a smile on her. “Anyway, you women really go in for a bad boy in a car.”

  “Not once we turn fourteen.” She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze away.

  Hopping and skidding in the gutter, the minivan slid until it ground against a dumpster in the shade of the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge. With a self-satisfied smile, Leery put the car in park. “See there? That’s a ten-out-of-ten parking job right there.”

  “Right.” Dru pulled the door lever and slid out of the Crown Vic. “Why are we here?” Her gaze traversed the white, dome-like covering of the tennis club that reminded her of a giant marshmallow, then she twisted to face the commercial building opposite it. “None of this looks residential.”

  “That whole lives-under-a-bridge thing is a misconception. The actual Covenant dictates that they live under the shadow of a bridge.”

  Dru spun and scanned the tall apartment buildings lining either side of the bridge. “They? Trolls? I certainly hope you have more to go on than that. It could take us a lifetime to canvas all of this.”

  “Don’t worry, Nogan. I’ve got a plan.” Leery started walking toward 1st Avenue and Dru followed, shaking her head.

  “Want to let me in on it?”

  “What, I should ruin the surprise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine, Nogan. Fine. Stage one of the plan is I walk down here to the corner. You can come if you want.”

  “And what will you do at the corner?”

  Leery glanced at her, quirked a shaggy eyebrow, and grinned. “Grab a cup of java. Starbucks, there’s one on every corner.”

  Dru stopped walking. “More coffee?”

  Leery turned to face her, his grin widening. “Hey, you don’t look this good without making sacrifices, Nogan. Coffee is the mana of the gods.”

  “No god I know, and I know a few.” Dru shrugged. “Come on, Leery. We don’t have time for this.”

  “There’s always time for a Starbucks, Nogan. Besides, I think you’ll like the barista.”

  Dru allowed a sigh to hiss between her teeth. “And why is that?”

  Oriscoe’s eyes twinkled, and he tipped her a wink. “Oh, you’ll have to come along to find out.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Fine.” Leery turned and strolled around the corner, gazing at the trees planted in their clever little boxes of earth.

  Dru followed a step behind and couldn’t help but smile at his back. Their little arguments had become a thing she looked forward to, and she thought he felt the same. “Oh, look, Oriscoe. A bus lane. You could have parked right out front.”

  “Two things, Nogan. First, that would be illegal. Second, I didn’t want Einar to spot us coming.” He grabbed the outer door of the Starbucks and grinned at her.

  “Einar?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Dru stepped through the door Leery held open for her. When she glanced behind the counter, she froze in mid-stride for a split second, then had to shuffle forward to keep from tripping. “I suppose it’s too much to ask that you pretend you didn’t see me do that?”

  “Relax, Nogan. Almost everyone does that when they see their first troll up close and personal.”

  2

  Leery slapped his hand on the stainless-steel counter in the back room of the Starbucks. “Come on, Einar! Don’t you dare hold back on me.”

  The enormous man blew out a breath, rolled his eyes at Dru, and pushed back out into the front of the shop. He stood at least seven foot four inches tall and had dark mahogany-toned skin, weathered and leathery. He returned a moment later, ducking his head to clear the door frame, with a larger cup of coffee. He carried muscles on top of his muscles and was what Leery’s mother called “big-boned.” “There. I assume one trenta is enough?”

  Leery took the cup from Einar’s hand. “For now, Einar. For now.”

  “Unnh. Oriscoe, I got to get back to work.”

  “Not so fast, big and ugly. We’ve got questions, and you’d better have answers.”

  Einar straightened his back, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. “Hardly seems fair, the number of times you’ve hassled me over one little incident.”

  “One little incident, Einar?” Leery hooked his thumb at the troll. “This genius went after a bus full of seventy-eight mundanes during his last rut and flung it right off the bridge. What was it you said, Einar? Oh, right, don’t tell me. The bus challenged you, right?”

  Einar blushed and averted his gaze. “I was mid-rut, unh. Not the best time to challenge a troll.”

  “Hey, a bus horn isn’t exactly the same thing as a war horn, Einar.”

  “Not my fault. Nunnh. It sounded like one.”

  “You’re just lucky you missed the river with it. If it had flipped into the East River, you’d have been in real trouble.”

  “Unh.” Einar heaved a sigh, and Leery closed his eyes to the gust of wind. “What do you want, Oriscoe?”

  “You know any unseelies, Einar?”

  The troll curled his lip. “Distasteful bunch.”

  “Then you know a few of them?”

  “Unh. A bugge here, a lubber there,” Einar said with a shrug. “Don’t like any of them.” He clenched his fists, and his knuckles crackled like a string of firecrackers. “No good for eating, either, nunnnh.”

  “Uh, yeah. We’ll take your word for it, big guy.” Leery took a long sip out of his enormous cup. “So, Einar…about these unseelies. Why would one of the Brethren work with one?”

  “Nunh. We wouldn’t. No reason to.” Einar turned his massive head to Dru and cocked it to the side. “You, though. Unnnh. I’d work with you.”

  “Settle down there, big man,” said Leery. “You don’t want to mess with her. She’d eat you for dinner.”

  Dru scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  Einar squinted at Leery. “She’s your woman? Your…bitch?”

  “Now, that’s not very nice language, Einar. My delicate ears are burning.” Leery tossed a wink at Dru. “I think he likes you.”

  Einar took a threatening step toward Leery, his shoulders hunched, his massive fists floating halfway to fighting position. “I challenge you. Unh. For the woman.”

  Leery grimaced and took another long draught of coffee. “Relax, Einar. She’s not my woman. It would do you no good to challenge me, and besides, we both know how that ended last time.”

  Einar growled deep in his throat. “I was mid-rut.”

  “Sure, sure. I bet it would be different now.” Leery rolled his eyes at Dru. “Look, Einar, we just need to know a few things and then—”

  “You think you would win? You think you can defeat me when I have my wits? Nunnh, I would be your doom, little human.”

  “Probably so, Einar, but you’re forgetting my other half. The part that’s neither little nor human.” Leery waved his hand as though clearing the air. “Besides, I have no interest in testing the matter. You win, okay?”

  “Unnnh.” Einar looked at Dru askance, a smirk decorating his broad face. “I would win her.”

  “Einar, you’re not listening. She’s not mine. Okay?”

  Dru glared at the troll and rattled something in the Verba Patiendi.

  Einar took a step back, eyes widening.

  “And I belong to no man.”

  “Unnh, Your Grace,” murmured Einar. He threw an unsure glance at Leery, then dropped to one knee.

  “Oh, stop that!” snapped Dru. “Just answer our questions.”

  “Unh. I will do as you ask, Princess Drusilla bat Argat.”

  “And don’t call me that. Call me Detective Nogan.”

  Again, Einar’s gaze darted to Leery’s as if seeking clarification, so Leery nodded. “Do what she says, Einar.”

  “Unh.” He rose to his feet, darting glances at Dru all the wh
ile.

  “Now, tell us why one of your kind would deal with the Unseelie Court,” she said.

  Einar shrugged his massive shoulders, creating the illusion of two cannonballs rolling around in his shirt. “I know of no reason. Nunnh.”

  “Rent can’t be cheap in the shadow of the bridge. Would you do it if the price were right?” Leery drained the rest of his coffee and sighed as he tossed the empty cup into the trash.

  “Want more?” asked Einar.

  “Sure, now that you’re offering.”

  Einar nodded as he turned and pushed through the doors into the front of the shop. Half a second later, the bell on the front door rang.

  “Great. Customers,” said Leery. “It’ll take him forever.”

  “Mmm.”

  Leery leaned against the prep table, cocking his hip and grinning at Dru. “So… You’re willing to expose your secret to get out of a date? Interesting.”

  Dru scoffed and shook her head. “He didn’t have a date in mind, and you know it.” She glanced at the double doors to the front. “Use that great hearing of yours… What do you hear?”

  Leery turned his head a little, then lifted his eyebrows. “Nothing.”

  “Right. Nothing.”

  “Oh, hell,” Leery murmured, loosening his tie. “I left my hat back in the car.”

  “Maybe you can do without it?”

  He pulled the horrible silk tie from his neck and tossed it at her, then went to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Sure, I can do without it. But my other half is devout. The question is whether he will do without it.” The flesh of his shoulders and chest began to ripple and coarse brown-gray fur began to blossom around his neck like spring weeds.

  “He’ll understand.”

  “Yeah? You sure about that?” Leery tossed his shirt to her and kicked off his shoes.

  “Can’t you do this faster? Without the striptease?”

  “Yeah, of course, but clothes are expensive on a cop’s salary.” His voice had dropped a register, and it sounded as though he had a mouthful of gravel.

  “Well, you need a better system. I’m not your manservant or your maid.”

  Leery nodded his lupine head and stepped out of his trousers. The hair atop his head knitted itself into a perfect yarmulke, the gray hairs forming decorative patterns amongst the brown. His gaze came to rest on Dru’s, and his lip curled.