Whatever had been upstairs, if there had been anything, had gone and Kellog had told her to go home. He would pick her up in the morning, he had told her, and they would go over the scene once forensics had taken a good, hard look.
Nisa was yawning when she emerged from the tower and walked over to Kellog’s unmarked BMW. It was not exactly top-of-the-line, but it was a nice car, though Nisa would have liked black rather than the metallic silver. The seats were comfortable.
‘Tough night?’ Kellog asked as she buckled her seatbelt.
‘Nightmares. At least I wasn’t being sexually assaulted this time.’
‘Skinned alive?’
‘Flayed, actually.’
‘Did you have breakfast?’
‘I thought maybe that might be a bad idea,’ Nisa replied.
Kellog gave a nod and pulled the car out of the small car park. ‘You may be right.’
As he drove down Devons Road, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a wallet. ‘You’ll need this,’ he said, handing it over. ‘We were going to wait until you’d finished basic, but given the circumstances…’
Nisa took the slim leather item and flipped it open. She found herself looking at a picture of her own face set into a Metropolitan Police warrant card. It took her a moment to notice the oddity. ‘I’m a sergeant?’
‘It’s a technicality. It lets you order the constables around if you have to. Do not have to. Abuse that and I’ll be the one doing the skinning.’
‘You got your rank the hard way, right?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘But you’re American.’
He glanced at her. ‘Noticed the accent. I try to sound English when I’m in public. Yes, I’m American. I came over here to study European history and stayed. We’re here.’
They had put plastic sheets over the doorway of the building and there were uniformed officers standing outside it. There was also a boxy incident support vehicle parked up and Norbery was visible in the back of it dressed in a distinctly unbecoming blue jumpsuit. He spotted the car and by the time Nisa and Kellog were approaching, he had outfits for them too.
Along with the suit, there were rubber gloves and little booties to go over your shoes. And there were the hats which were designed to stop your hair ending up in the crime scene. They were going to look like prats, but it had to be done.
Norbery watched them dressing and Nisa yawning. ‘Bad night?’ he asked.
‘She got flayed,’ Kellog informed him.
‘Remind me when we come out but I’ve got something for you.’
‘What?’ Nisa asked.
‘Something to help you sleep,’ Norbery replied before turning and heading for the curtains.
The uniforms wanted to see their warrant cards before letting them in, which was fine by Nisa because she was getting a whiff of the same smell as last night, even through the plastic, and she had no real desire to get in quickly.
‘To clarify,’ Norbery said as they entered the hall, ‘you came no further than the door of that office?’
Nisa looked to her right where a lamp had been set up to illuminate the area around the door. ‘Uh-huh. Didn’t put a foot inside this… room.’ Her eyes caught the smudges on the concrete floor. ‘Can I look closer?’
‘Be my guest,’ Norbery said. He was wearing a rather proud smile.
On the floor, inside the reception room and a couple of feet into the office, were marks which looked a lot like scuffed footprints made in blood. Not wet blood; someone had tracked dried blood on their shoes onto previously unmarked floor. No, she decided after a second, not on their shoes. She could make out what looked alarmingly like toes on one of the prints.
‘I’d have noticed those when I came in if they’d been there before,’ Nisa said.
‘I dare say you might have,’ Norbery agreed.
‘And I didn’t make them. I was wearing trainers.’
‘You noticed that detail then?’
‘Uh… yeah. So there was someone here.’
Kellog gave a grunt of displeasure. It was about the most emotion Nisa had ever seen him display. ‘Something would be a better description.’
Nisa stood up, feeling suddenly cold. ‘How bad are Skinwalkers?’ she asked. The term was still used in America for shamanic practices of animal imitation, but they were almost certainly not talking about that kind of creature. Kellog had not got to the point of giving her details on them.
‘Physically? No stronger or faster than a human. They’re smart, and besides the ability to mimic anyone and anything they can get the skin off, they’re usually skilled magicians, which you are not. The real problem is that they’re difficult to kill. You can put them down, but killing them needs magic, an acid bath, or a bonfire.’
‘In this case,’ Norbery put in, ‘you might have been lucky. The evidence suggests it was a young one.’
‘They can breed?’
‘Heavens no. No genitalia. We’re unsure of the mechanism, but they seem to spontaneously mutate from normal humans. It’s rare, very rare, thank God. It starts about puberty, we think, but they generally show signs before then. Unfortunately, those signs are roughly the same as a human serial murderer, and they often go undetected anyway.’
‘The animals,’ Nisa said.
Norbery gave a nod. ‘Serial killers often start by killing animals, but in this case they were being used for skinning practice. Unfortunately, they had moved up to larger prey too.’ He turned and started for the stairs. ‘I hope you have a strong stomach.’
‘It’s holding up so far,’ Nisa replied, though she was not sure she really wanted to follow him.
When she saw it, in one of the rooms on the upper floor, Nisa was moderately impressed with herself for not losing it there and then. Of course, she had known it was going to be bad and had steeled herself, but the smell alone was enough to make her want to retch.
The figure, strung up by its arms from an exposed ceiling beam, had enough definition left to tell her that the victim had been female. Not too tall, maybe five-eight, and probably fairly well muscled though Nisa was not used to having to judge that by looking at bare muscle fibres. The eyes were gone, which was almost an advantage, but the maggots which had removed them were crawling out of the exposed eye sockets as well as a few other wounds in the flesh.
‘The knife work is sloppy,’ Norbery said, his voice flat. Even he was having to suppress his emotions to work around this. ‘There are cuts into the muscle which we don’t see in older Skinwalkers’ victims. I need to get her back to the lab to run a proper analysis, but I think she was not much older than Nisa. We’ll have to run dental records and DNA, and if that fails we’ll try facial reconstruction. There’s some evidence of strangulation being the cause of death, but that’s partially based on a lack of deep tissue wounds.’
‘Only one?’ Nisa asked, her voice sounding choked.
‘One human, six cats, four dogs.’
‘Shit. And it got away. I disturbed it, couldn’t contain it, and it got away.’
‘We know it’s out there,’ Kellog said. ‘If you hadn’t gone looking, it would have remained hidden, maybe for years, and become a greater threat. We haven’t had a fully developed Skinwalker in London since before I started with XC. We’re better off knowing it’s here than not.’
Nisa turned to look at him. She was a little surprised that he was saying something to make her feel better, but he was. ‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘Just stating a fact,’ he replied before turning to leave. ‘Come on, field trip’s over. Back to school.’
~~~
‘This,’ Nisa said as she poured cat milk into a saucer, ‘is from Norbery and Kellog for helping find the Skinwalker’s lair.’
That got a meow. Nisa had not cast the telepathy spell yet.
‘Just be careful or they’ll have you on a contract too.’ She put the saucer down and Faline started lapping at it with obvious eagerness. Nisa grinned and walked back out to the lou
nge to get her own present.
Norbery had made it himself, apparently. It appeared to be a collection of twigs and thread, woven together into something a bit like a dreamcatcher, which was appropriate since its purpose was to help her sleep soundly. Picking it out of the bag she had carried it home in, she took it through to the bedroom and looped the string it was attached to over the post at the corner of the bedhead. Once activated, Norbery had said, it would work for about a week and she should sleep like a baby. And all she had to do to activate it was hang it on the bed. So… Well, she hoped it worked because after visiting a charnel house in the morning, she was pretty sure sleep was going to be hard to come by.
Study was not coming easily either. Pages about statistical pattern analysis kept showing her images of flayed human bodies. The book on wizardry was turning into gibberish in front of her eyes, though that might have been the book rather than her recent experience.
‘You should get out, relax,’ Faline suggested when Nisa did cast the spell. ‘You didn’t go to that club you like last week. You’ve done nothing but study and get thrown around by the wizard.’
‘It doesn’t seem fair,’ Nisa told her. ‘I can’t take you. Isn’t there a kitty club you can go to? Night on the tiles, sort of thing?’
‘Oh yes, there’s a place down by the cut that serves rum and cat milk. When the catnip starts getting scattered around it can get pretty wild, I can tell you.’
‘Really?’
‘No, of course not! Did you take gullible pills or something this morning?’
‘Uh… I guess I’m just not used to the idea of a cat being sarcastic.’
Faline shook her head, sinking her chin onto her paws. ‘All cats are sarcastic, I just happen to be better at it.’
Poplar.
‘You’ve got a cat?’ Jenna did not sound like this was a believable idea. ‘I never took you for a cat person.’
‘I did,’ Lena said. ‘There’s something a little feline about her as it is, and there’s the magic. Is it black?’
‘Yes, she is,’ Nisa supplied.
‘See? Obvious.’
‘How’s the magic going?’ Spike asked.
‘Huh,’ Nisa grunted. ‘I’m nose deep in statistical analysis, so I’ve barely had time to think about that.’ She thought she had sold the lie effectively. Spike certainly took the bait.
‘How’s the statistical analysis going then?’
‘It’s hard work. I think I can do what they want, and maybe get a bit more out of it. I’m supposed to be looking for patterns in the stats by borough and across the city. It’s less a question of how to do it and more a question of what to look for.’
Spike sucked at his teeth. Apparently he was just being reluctant to help the police force because the next thing out of his mouth was a suggestion. ‘Don’t restrict yourself to the crime statistics. There are bound to be other factors involved. When someone’s training an expert system or neural network, they have to include all sorts of stuff that seems irrelevant, but actually affects the way the system works.’
‘Like?’
‘Uh… when people are on holiday, school holidays must be a factor. The phase of the moon. The weather.’
‘Seriously?’ Wallace said. ‘The weather?’
‘Violent crime tends to occur more in hotter countries. And I’ve heard a lot of crime goes up when the moon’s full. Whether that’s because people go crazy or there’s just more light…’ The programmer frowned. ‘I know it’s unlike me to suggest talking to the police, but maybe you should ask some beat cops about what they think affects the stats, then you can check for correspondence.’
‘Thanks, Spike,’ Nisa said. ‘I’ve got budget for a year, but if I can’t get results they might pull it.’ Like there was much chance of that.
‘Who knew?’ Jenna said, grinning. ‘Inside that rebellious, anarchy-loving body there’s a good citizen who just wants to help.’
Spike glowered at her. ‘Tell anyone else that and I’ll hack into HMRC and change your tax code.’
Tower Hamlets, July 5th.
It was a bright, summer day in July and the thought of staring at books for hours was enough to make Nisa grumpy. She had had a good night’s sleep, and the air from the open window smelled fresh; Hell, even the dust on the windowsills she had not cleaned all winter seemed remarkably less visible. She decided that Faline needed to stretch her legs, even if the feline in question did not. So she dug her bikini out from the bottom of her knickers drawer, put a T-shirt and jeans over the top and, with her reluctant cat riding on her shoulder, headed off to Mile End Park.
London had a lot of parks and Mile End was neither the best nor the worst. It was next to Mile End Stadium so there were more than a few sports facilities around the place, but if you went up past the BMX track there were patches of grass you could lie on in relative seclusion and trees for Faline to run around. Nisa was not really sure Faline was the kind of cat who ran around in the long grass, but as soon as they stopped and Nisa unrolled the towel she had brought to lie on, there was a black, feline streak heading for the trees.
Nisa grinned and started stripping off her outer layer. Her one and only bikini had been bought for a holiday in southern Spain she had taken when she was at university. It had not been bought to go anywhere near water. Made of a silky satin, the bra cups combined with a halter-neck that crossed over in front and gave her breasts a little added lift, not that they needed it really, but every little helps. The briefs were… very brief. They were probably a little too brief for a London park, but it was what she had. She lay down in the sun, kept her legs together, and relaxed.
It was warm, pleasant, and Faline would run across every now and then to give Nisa a quick headbutt before charging off after a bird or something. Maybe the cat was a cat after all, even if she was a superior cat.
It was just after one of Faline’s return trips that a shadow fell across Nisa and a voice said, ‘You know, I’m really bad with competition.’
Nisa did not need to open her eyes to know who it was. ‘If you touch my cat, Trina, I’ll feed you your liver.’
The leader of the Queens gave a snort: it was pretty unlikely that Nisa could take her in a fight. The woman was tall, slim, attractive in a slightly masculine way with a strong jawline, sharp, blue eyes, and short-cropped blonde hair. Her body was all lithe, tight muscle and she knew how to use it. If rumours were true, she knew how to use it in a number of interesting ways other than beating the snot out of anyone who got in her way.
‘What about the tall streak of nothing who picked you up yesterday?’ Trina asked.
‘Kellog? If you think you can take him, be my guest. He’s my new boss. He’s also a cop.’
‘You’re working for the Pigs?’
‘Backroom stuff, analytics. I’m not going to be walking a beat any time soon.’
Trina laughed. ‘Shame, shagging a girl in uniform… Never done that.’
‘Still not happening, Trina,’ Nisa pointed out. ‘And you’re blocking my sun.’
The shadow moved and the voice came from lower down this time; Trina had settled onto the grass. ‘You’re such a damn tease. Lying there in next to nothing…’
‘There are other girls here in just as little. Go pester one of them.’
‘None as good as you, girl,’ Trina said, a hint of longing in her voice. ‘Guess I’ll have to make do with looking.’
‘Yup. None of your cronies around?’
‘I’m meeting Sal and Tats later. Being the Queen of the Queens is a pain at times, y’know? Having to be Trina all the time? Sometimes it’s nice to be Katrina by herself.’ There was a sigh and the voice dropped in height again. ‘I heard about the kebab place. Did a little digging, but no one seems to know who did it.’
‘You checked up on that for me?’
‘I was worried about you, yeah, but if some gang’s bringing guns to my turf I want to know.’
‘Cops think the guy who was in the shop wa
s targeted specifically. More an assassination than a random attack. I’d never seen him before so it’s probably a gang from out of the borough.’
‘Good to know.’ There was a meow and Nisa’s cheek was headbutted, and Trina added, ‘Hello, Cat, you lucky bitch. I bet you get to sleep in her bed.’
‘Her name’s Faline,’ Nisa replied, ‘and she sleeps on the bed, yes.’
‘If I get myself some cat ears and a tail, can I sleep on your bed?’
Faline gave an affronted meow and Nisa giggled. ‘Sorry, that’s been vetoed.’
‘Damn,’ Trina said without rancour, ‘cock blocked by a cat. What is the world coming to?’
~~~
‘That girl in the park,’ Faline said while Nisa was pouring out some food for her, ‘you like her?’
‘Trina? It’s… complicated.’
‘It smelled like you like her. She likes you more.’
‘Faline!’ Nisa whined. ‘I do not want to discuss my sex life with a cat.’
‘We could discuss mine, but it would be very boring.’
‘Well, mine too. Let’s just say that if that incubus had just asked, he wouldn’t have needed that mind control crap. Trina’s the leader of a local gang. All girls, all tough. While Trina wants in my pants, the Queens leave me alone. If she gets me and we break up, I’d probably have to move.’
Faline chewed thoughtfully on a biscuit. ‘So it isn’t that she’s a girl?’
‘Where my erogenous zones are concerned, I don’t differentiate over who’s stimulating them. And I still can’t believe I’m talking about this with a cat.’
‘I’m just showing an interest,’ Faline replied, dipping her nose back into the food.
‘Huh. Is there a Mister Faline?’
‘Cats are not noted for their felicity, Nisa. It’s very much a case of sex-and-run. The best a domestic can hope for is to be one of a harem.’
Nisa giggled. ‘I could see you in a little veil and harem pants.’
‘I hope the image is as attractive as it is amusing.’
Reality Hack Page 7