The Dark Detective: Venator (The Max Darke Files)

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The Dark Detective: Venator (The Max Darke Files) Page 11

by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  The ground floors showed signs of Brood occupation. Max guessed that up to 15 humans had lost their lives – and their souls – in this benighted building. He felt sick and weary to the bone, but this was his job. Well, it had been more than a job for two years – it had since become an obsession: his mission. It was also the reason that he barely had a life outside work. How could he, when he knew what lurked in the darkest corners of even the smartest streets?

  Sophie was taking her time searching the upper rooms and Max grew impatient. His feet sank into thick carpet as his heavy tread carried him up the stairs.

  “Sophie? Have you found anything?” he called.

  “Over here, Max, darling,” she chirruped.

  Max guessed it must be something evil – she sounded happy.

  Sophie emerged from the master bedroom. She was stunningly attired in a turquoise silk and chiffon dress with matching shoes and clutch bag. Her hair was, once again, immaculate. Good grief! She’d even taken the time to have a shower!

  Max felt grubby in comparison. But he was also annoyed that she hadn’t finished searching her section of the house. He knew there was no point getting tetchy with a Level Two demon about police methodology: she just wouldn’t understand. Besides – she’d been a valuable ally in the destruction of the Brood.

  “Suits you,” he muttered.

  “Thank you, Max, darling. You’re so sweet! Oh, and by the way – I found this.”

  She held up a pendant of black onyx with a hole at the centre. The chain had large links of heavy gold. It looked ancient.

  “It’s an amulet,” she said unnecessarily. “It’s definitely mystical. It hums.”

  “Pardon?” said Max.

  “It sings to me,” she said. “I feel its evil. It wants to go to the Mother.”

  A dreamy expression crossed her face.

  Max tore the amulet from her grasp. For a moment a look of sheer fury burned in her eyes.

  “Oh, so sorry, Max, darling,” she said blinking. “I got rather carried away by it. It’s not entirely my fault – it is a mystical object, after all.”

  “Yes, and a very dangerous one, I’m guessing,” said Max, wrapping it cautiously in an evidence bag and placing it carefully in a deep pocket.

  It was worth noting, he decided, that even with having signed the PTB’s Blood Oath, Sophie was clearly still susceptible to powerful evil.

  “I wonder if it’s the amulet Ralph mentioned. It would explain why the Brood were so keen to silence him.”

  Sophie shrugged. She didn’t know and cared less. But it was clear she wanted the amulet. Her eyes narrowed, watching him. Creepy.

  Max checked out the rest of the rooms but it seemed that there was nothing else of importance to find. He felt frustrated. They still didn’t know how, when, or if the Brood had planned to contact the Mother, and he wasn’t sure if there were any more Brood in town, he wasn’t even certain anymore if Lily Bruce was the one who would call the Mother or not. He wished they’d saved one of the Brood to question, even if the chances of it talking were slim to non-existent.

  They walked back to Scotland Yard slowly. Max enjoyed the feeling of late afternoon sun on his face and the scent of jasmine and wisteria that wafted through the peaceful streets.

  Sophie was preoccupied and uncharacteristically quiet. Max was happy to let his thoughts drift, the tiredness washing over him.

  Back at the office, Max left Sophie to go through his department reference books to find out what power the amulet had.

  He pulled some fresh clothes out of his locker and headed for the shower block, throwing his Brood-stained clothes in the bin. There was no way Daz was going to get those stains out. Being a Demon Division officer ought to come with a clothes allowance thought Max, not for the first time. And he was going to have to find a way to thank his gran for that coat. He still couldn’t quite believe that she’d imbued it with magical protection. They were definitely going to have to talk about that. Gran had been holding out on him.

  Feeling refreshed, clean and marginally more alert, Max strolled back towards the office. He was surprised to hear Sophie’s laughter echoing down the corridor. He felt immediately tense. Who was she talking to?

  Perched on the corner of a desk, PC Eric Baldwin was being subjected to the full force of Sophie’s charm. He looked dazed with joy at the chance to speak to such a beautiful woman with her shimmering eyes and luscious red locks.

  “All right, Eric,” said Max cautiously. “What can we do for you?”

  “What? Oh, nothing.”

  He seemed annoyed that Max had interrupted.

  “Just passing the time of day with the delightful Detective Constable Smith.”

  “Oh, you sweet boy! Do call me Sophie,” she gushed.

  Max got the feeling that Eric was never going to forget his encounter with Sophie. Few humans did. For some, it had been the last thing they ever knew. Not that Max had ever caught her disembowelling anyone. If he had, he’d have vaporised her before. But he’d heard the rumours.

  “Eric?” he snapped, forcing the man to focus. “Any news about the President Elect’s visit?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s what I came to tell you. I remember now. Her flight’s been brought forward – she’s arriving at Heathrow at one pm tomorrow. The Superintendent’s going ballistic – all the planning has to be brought forward by 13 hours. She’s not happy. You two are on the Palace detail. God knows how you wangled that cushy number. All you’ll have to do is blend in and make sure the staff don’t eat the canapés. Mind you, I can’t imagine that you’d ever manage to blend in,” he said, smiling blissfully at Sophie. “Not unless it’s a Miss World competition.”

  “Oh, you’re such a charmer,” trilled Sophie. “I can see a girl will have to watch her step around you. Ha ha ha!”

  Max felt faintly nauseated by the look of dog-like devotion that was etched on Eric’s round, red face.

  “Well, thanks for the info, Eric,” he said curtly. “We’d better get moving. Nice to see you.”

  He ushered a dazed looking Eric from the office and closed the door firmly on the PC’s broad rump.

  “Sophie! Did you have to do such a job on Eric? He’s not a bad guy.”

  “Oh, Max, darling, don’t be jealous,” said Sophie coyly. “Besides, I really didn’t do anything.”

  Max ground his teeth and raised his eyes to Heaven.

  “You know I’m not the least bit jealous,” said Max, firmly, “but I happen to know that Eric has a very nice fiancée who is going to be devastated if you make Eric fall in love with you.”

  “Spoil­sport,” pouted Sophie. “Oh, very well. I promise I’ll de-charm him later. You really aren’t any fun at all.”

  “Whatever,” said Max. “And I’d rather you didn’t charm any of the other officers here, unless it’s for work purposes and on my say-so. Okay?”

  “Of course! Whatever you say, Max, darling,” smiled Sophie. “You look so sweet when you’re being serious.”

  Max felt grateful that her charms didn’t work on him. He’d never be able to forget the vision of her demon face as she turned on him, ready to rip him into thin shreds. The memory of that day at the Ritz was scorched indelibly into his brain.

  “Any luck with finding out about that amulet?” he said changing the subject.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” said Sophie. “I believe I have.”

  The Amulet

  Max couldn’t believe his luck. Finally! A break!

  “It’s not completely clear,” said Sophie, “but I’ve found a reference to an amulet in Modus Daemonicus – there’s a description that matches, too, except that it has a gemstone in the centre of it.”

  “Let me guess,” said Max, a sudden thought occurring to him. “An azurite gemstone?”

  “Well, it says ‘dark blue’, but I think we can assume it’s made from azurite.” Sophie looked surprised that Max had made the connection.

  “So, she continued, it might not
be a doppelganger amulet we’re looking for, but the gemstone your CIA friend has – or had. As you already know, the Modus is a twelfth century copy of a manuscript by Bede, so that dates it back to at least the late seventh century. But Bede describes it as an ancient object even then. He describes it as ‘the Mother’s Amulet’ and says it is imbued with much ‘dark magicks’. He also says that at the time of writing, it had been lost for millennia. I’d say the Brood have only recently found it. It would certainly explain their sudden interest in being back on Earth... well, you know, above ground.”

  “And what does the amulet do?” said Max.

  “It doesn’t say precisely, the references are vague, but reading between the lines I’d guess that the amulet can somehow call to the Mother or possibly enhance the powers of the Summoner – it’s not very clear. Either way, the purpose is to awaken the Mother from her long sleep – and if she’s anything like the women I know, she’ll want her jewellery back. I also seriously suspect, Max, darling, that allowing the Brood – or the Bruce woman – to reunite the Mother with her amulet would be a very bad thing for humans – and probably all Lower demons, too. It’s a species thing.”

  Max felt nauseated.

  “Then we must make sure that she doesn’t get her claws on it,” he said. “I don’t suppose burying the evil thing or dropping it off the side of a ship would do any good?”

  “No, I don’t suppose it would,” said Sophie, who was deep in thought.

  “And where does Lily Bruce figure in all this, if at all?” said Max.

  “I’ve been wondering about that. I still think she’s involved. I can’t imagine the Brood taking on something as powerful as the amulet’s magicks without some sort of scheme in mind.”

  “So can we find a mystical way of destroying the damned thing?” demanded Max.

  Sophie shrugged. “Maybe. It’s very powerful – well beyond my knowledge of magicks. Perhaps your friend the Professor could help?”

  Max winced at the mention of the Professor’s name.

  “Yeah, he might,” he agreed, grudgingly.

  “So speak to him,” urged Sophie impatiently. “I don’t need to remind you that we’re working to a deadline, Max.”

  “No, you don’t need to remind me,” he snapped.

  “Well? What’s the problem? What is it between you two anyway?”

  “It’s... private,” said Max, shortly.

  He picked up the telephone and held it as if it weighed a hundred pounds. Reluctantly, his fingers stabbed out the number. Sophie noticed that he knew the number off by heart. Curiouser and curiouser.

  “Professor? It’s Max Darke. Yes, I know you’ve already done us one favour today. Yes, I know that. Yes... Listen, will you? We think we’ve found the Mother’s Amulet amongst a nest of Brood. No – they’re history. It seems the amulet has some mystical connection with her and her minions; it’s clearly a powerful object. Can you find out if there’s any way to check it out... and neutralise it? What? No. We can’t wait – that’s much too late. There’s something on tomorrow that seems like it’s connected. By noon we’ll know for sure but I need to get rid of this now. Okay. Thank you. I’ll email you a photograph of it straightaway.”

  “Well?” said Sophie, even more impatiently. “Will he help?”

  “He said he’d try,” said Max doubtfully, “but he didn’t think there was much chance of destroying such an ancient object. He suggested,” and here Max couldn’t help sneering, “that it would be easier to destroy the Mother.”

  Sophie gaped. “He thinks it will be easier for us to fight and destroy the Mother of All Evil? By ourselves? Is he crazy?”

  “Probably,” said Max. “But right now, it’s the only chance we’ve got.”

  “Maybe not,” said Sophie. “I’ve had an idea.”

  “Oh yes,” said Max, who sounded dubious.

  “No, seriously,” said Sophie. “We could try my friend Nerissa. She’s a Level Two, like me. But she’s also a Malka demon – you know what they can do, right?”

  “Wow,” said Max. “They’re really rare.”

  “She’s not that special,” said Sophie, quickly, tossing her head.

  “Why, Sophie – you’re not jealous, are you?” said Max raising his eyebrows in mock amazement.

  “Huh!” said Sophie. “Of course I’m not jealous of her. I’m just saying she could be useful.”

  Max smiled to himself. One all.

  “I know that Malka demons have the ability to absorb the demonic powers of other demons or demonic objects,” said Max, “but I don’t really see how that helps us.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “Max, honestly! I do wonder about you sometimes. Suppose we take the amulet to Nerissa: she can absorb its power, temporarily rendering the amulet impotent. Then we should be able to destroy it.”

  “Hmm,” said Max. “That’s not bad, but it has two problems. Firstly, we’re assuming that Nerissa will be able to absorb all the amulet’s power in one go so we can destroy it – which may or may not happen. She’s only a Level Two demon – not that powerful. No offence.”

  “None taken,” snarled Sophie.

  “The other problem is that we don’t know how long Nerissa will keep the power she’s absorbed. She could be even more dangerous to us with the extra power the amulet will give her – and she might decide to keep it.”

  “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem,” said Sophie. “Once she’s absorbed the power – we can kill her.”

  Max swallowed.

  “I thought you said she was your friend?”

  “She is,” said Sophie, brightly. “So, shall we give it a go?”

  “Er...” said Max, not wanting to dampen the enthusiasm of a new colleague. “It’s definitely an idea. Let’s say that’s the strategy we go for – in case we don’t hear back from the Professor.”

  “Spoilsport,” muttered Sophie once more under her breath.

  Max pretended he hadn’t heard. Instead he pulled out his battered mobile and used it to send a photograph of the amulet to the Professor.

  Sophie found an old pair of garden secateurs in a filing cabinet and started to trim her talons. She had a rather belligerent expression on her face. Max didn’t fancy Nerissa’s chances if Plan B was implemented.

  The phone rang abruptly, making Max jump.

  “Good afternoon, D Division,” said Max politely. “Professor! Good. What have you found out?”

  Max listened intently. Sophie was on tenterhooks and was only managing to restrain herself from grabbing the phone from Max’s hand by the merest thread of self-will – and that was getting more frayed by the second.

  “Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I’ll let you know,” said Max and replaced the handset on the phone.

  “Well?” said Sophie, impatiently. “What did he say?”

  Max rubbed his eyes tiredly.

  “He said it’s definitely the Mother’s Amulet – no question – but without the final piece of azurite. And he had two ideas: the first idea was to contact the PTBs to see if they have some way of destroying the amulet...”

  “Yes? And the second?”

  “He asked me if I knew any Malka demons.”

  “I told you!” said Sophie, triumphantly. “Let’s go!”

  “Hold your horses,” said Max. “I’m going to try contacting the PTBs first to see if they can help.”

  He ignored Sophie’s protestations and fired off an email to the PTBs marked ‘urgent’.

  “If we don’t hear back in the next half an hour, we’ll go and see Nerissa,” said Max. “In the meantime, find Eric and get the latest updates on the Bruce woman’s visit. Oh, and don’t forget to de-charm him while you’re there.”

  It would have been just as simple for Max to phone Eric to find out the latest, but he badly needed a few minutes of peace and quiet to hammer his exhausted brain back into shape. He hadn’t had a partner since Kennet and Sophie was exhausting company at the best of times. Not that you could call the last 24 ho
urs the best of anything.

  He checked over the weapons’ bag and topped up all the guns with Holy water. Then he filled a couple of spare water bottles just in case. He had no idea how well they’d work on the Mother, but it would certainly dissolve any minions she had with her. His gran was right, mused Max. There was power in words, especially Holy ones.

  He pulled a couple of ancient tomes from the office shelves and ran his eye over some of the more advanced protection spells, then set them to envelop himself and Sophie for the next 24 hours. One particularly useful spell he found could slow down the enemy by warping their time frame and making it seem as if they were moving in slow motion. It was a tricky incantation, and had to be said in the correct Aramaic. Max had had to learn it phonetically, not knowing any foreign languages other than ‘dos cervesa’, which had come in handy on the last holiday he’d had in Alicante, prior to joining the police.

  He’d only managed to make the time-warp spell work properly once before, but it was worth having a go in an emergency.

  Sophie returned from visiting Eric with the latest updates tucked under her arm, plus invitations from five different officers to go for drinks with them after work.

  “But I turned them all down for you, Max, darling,” she said.

  She was getting much better at faking sincerity, Max noted.

  “Good,” he said, “because we’ve got work to do.”

  “Have you heard from the PTBs?” said Sophie.

  Max could tell from the way she said it that she really hoped he hadn’t.

  “No, not yet,” said Max grudgingly. “I’ll give them 10 more minutes.”

  To take Sophie’s mind off the delay in decapitating her best friend, Nerissa, Max got her to talk through the Yard’s plans for the President Elect’s visit.

  “We’ll be meeting the motorcade at Buckingham Palace,” said Sophie, “so you’d better wear your best suit.”

  “Whatever,” said Max. “Just so long as I can wear my overcoat.”

 

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