“Woah! Jesus, Melanie. What are you doing here?”
Melanie had barely gotten inside before she got the pungent smell of cigars. The apartment reeked of it. She was sure she'd reek of it too by the time she left.
“I need a friendly ear,” Melanie said.
“Why didn't you call?” Stephen asked, locking the door.
“I was passing by.”
“Here? You don't patrol here. I know.”
“You don't know everything about me or my cases.”
“I know enough,” Stephen said. “And you tell me plenty.”
She couldn't deny that. As much as they didn't work as a couple, he was always a sympathetic ear, a shoulder to cry on. She could rely on him to be discreet. Or so she thought. Maybe he was using that information against her. She wasn't sure of anything any more.
She slumped down onto the sofa, crossing her legs. Stephen sauntered in after her, sitting across the way. He immediately reached for the cigar box on the table.
“What's this about?” he asked, lighting one up.
“You still smoke.”
“Yeah.”
“It's bad for you.”
“So's a lotta things, melon. And anyway, blame Ernest. He got me smoking cigars in the first place.”
“And dabbling in magic,” Melanie said coolly. “That's bad for you too.”
“I've had enough scolding from him over that. I don't need yours as well.”
“Do you still do it?” she asked.
“What?”
“Magic.”
“Of course. It's like a drug. Once you start, you can't stop.”
Like killing people, Melanie thought.
“You all right, melon? You seem more on edge than usual.”
“I'm just tired.”
“You can kip here if you want. Got the spare room.”
“No, I just wanted to chat.”
“What about?”
“Do you ever use charms?”
“Charms?” The flicker of fire from the cigar illuminated his dark eyes. “What are you driving at?”
“I'm not driving at anything.”
“You are. You always are.”
“Just answer the question, Stephen.”
“Well, yeah. I use charms. I use everything. A bit of this, a bit of that. You already know that.”
She did, but she had to hear it from him. She wanted to see his reaction to her question. The problem was, if her vision had been clouded, then she might not have been seeing things as they really were. There wasn't a lot to go on. Just the smell. And a hunch. You couldn't jail people on a hunch. Not even with the Vowels testifying.
“Do you ever sell them?” she asked.
“Charms? No. But I give some away, if it suits me.”
“To who?”
“To whoever. If I want more money, I might give one to my bank manager. They're talismans, little houses of magic. Sometimes you make them for yourself, and other times you make them work a little magic on someone else.”
“Like me?”
“I never used any on you. What we had was real, warts and all.”
“How would I know?”
Stephen shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn't.” He paused. “Ernest would, though.”
“If you didn't use them on him too.”
Stephen laughed. “Are you serious? Jesus, melon, you've become a right fruit lately. You were better when you were a desk clerk. Do you really think I could get through Ernest's defences? And, y'know, he isn't even the greatest of those in his circle.”
That only added another thread to the web for Melanie. What if it was someone in Ernest's circle? Her heart sank at the next question: what if it was Ernest himself? It didn't seem right, but then nothing about this did. Who would want to do any of this at all?
“Do you think I did it?” Stephen asked, puffing on his cigar. He was awfully relaxed for such a loaded question, but then he found those cigars relaxing.
Melanie looked at him, but said nothing.
“Do you think I did those charm crimes you talked about?”
Melanie couldn't remember just how much she'd told him about things. They'd met up before, early on, when it was just two victims. She'd looked to him for solace, for advice. She wasn't sure if it was really just her instincts that pointed in his direction.
“I don't know,” Melanie said eventually.
“Jesus.” He dabbed the cigar out in the ashtray. The smoke and stench lingered.
“I don't know what to think, Stephen. I'm lost.” She wasn't entirely sure if she was just revealing herself to the perpetrator, if maybe this was what he wanted.
“Well, take me in then. I'm not gonna fight you.”
Melanie took a deep breath, then sighed. She was so sure before. Now she wasn't. Things had become muddled again. She wondered if her past, and her friendship with him, was clouding things. The only thing that was clear was the smell, and that otherworldly sense that something wasn't adding up.
She stared at the cigar box, which was still open. Her mind wandered.
Stephen noticed her staring. “What, don't tell me you want one.”
She kept staring, ignoring his question. Then something twigged in her mind.
“Are you still on two a day?”
“Yeah, got my old routine. Why?”
“And you get a new box on the first of every month.”
“God, Melanie. What's this about?”
“We've got five days left in this month. That should be ten cigars. There's only nine.”
“So?”
“Did you smoke extra?”
“No. You know I'm a creature of habit. This is my first today, and I'll have another tonight. It's always been two, always will be.”
“So, with the one you take tonight, that leaves eight cigars to cover five more days. You're two short.”
“Yeah, I gave Don and Toby one each when they were over last week.”
Melanie's jaw almost dropped to the floor. “Don and Toby,” she said dumbly.
“Yeah, why?”
Melanie got up without answering, vanishing out the door in a flutter of fabric. The door creaked closed behind her and Stephen locked it again. He strolled back to the sofa, sitting in Melanie's spot. He took the cigar back up, relit it, then kicked back and smiled.
Chapter 25 – Who to Trust?
Melanie went outside and sat in the car. She sat in silence for a moment, her mind spinning. Then she hammered her fists down on the dashboard in frustration. It seemed the closer she got to a solution, the farther away she felt. She thought she'd narrowed down the list. Now it was wider than ever. Now it included her comrades in the OIU.
She pursed her lips, shaking her head. It can't be, she told herself. It didn't make any sense. Why would Don or Eckhart do something like this? There had to be a reason. There had to be an answer.
She dialled Eckhart's number on her phone.
“Hey, you ready?”
“For what?” Melanie asked.
“The charm shops. I thought that's where we were going next.”
“Oh. Yes. No, actually, Toby, I'm chasing another lead.”
“Cool. What've you got?”
“Did you meet with Stephen last week?”
“Huh?”
“Stephen.”
“I know who Stephen is. What do you mean?”
“He said you and Don paid him a visit last week.”
“Ah, right. He told you that, huh?”
“Well?”
“I wasn't supposed to tell you this,” Eckhart said, “but he came up as a person of interest in another case. It was a bit vague, but we wanted to check it out.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Well, with your history with him and all, Don thought it best to leave you out of the loop.”
“And what did you think best?”
“I thought it best to follow the big guy's orders.”
“What was the case?”
>
“Mel, I can't go into that. You know how these things go. You're too close to him.”
“Fine,” she said. “Did you smoke a cigar with him?”
“Yeah. He offered. Thought it best not to say no, given the circumstances. And you know Don. He wouldn't refuse a cigar for his life. Hell, I had to give him mine after two puffs. I couldn't stomach the stuff.”
Melanie was silent.
“You still there, Mel?”
“Yeah.”
“Want me to come over?”
“No. I think I need to go it alone for a bit. I'll call you later.”
Alone was the perfect word. She wasn't sure she could rely on her partner now, or the guy in charge. She started to see their remarks in a different light, and wondered what they were keeping from her. She wasn't sure she should even go back to the station, and yet she also thought maybe she shouldn't let it seem like she knew too much.
Chapter 26 – Charm Dealer
Melanie headed into the City Centre on the Luas tram, then made for the small market stalls and dingy shops of the city's occult quarter. People sold all sorts of stuff there, much of it aimed at tourists, a lot of it junk. It was the perfect place to find odds and ends, the perfect place to find charms.
There were several dealers of trinkets along Carter Street. Dusk was setting in, so some of them were starting to close up. She had to hurry past the bustle to avoid missing anything. She scoured the stalls with her eyes, digging through some baskets and boxes of jewels, gems, and little figurines. Much of it was plastic or pewter. Nothing had quite the same look or feel as those charms used in the attacks.
“Lookin' for somethin' in particular, love?” one of the street sellers asked.
“Where's the best place for charms here?”
“Charms? I've got a few of those here.”
“I need the biggest selection, preferably old charms.”
The seller furrowed her brow. “That'd be Bits and Bobs on the corner then. Bob O'Malley runs the place. You tell him I sent you. Won't get you a discount, mind, but tell him all the same.”
Melanie thanked the woman and headed over to the tiny corner shop. She would have walked right past if she wasn't looking for it.
There were ragged carpets hanging on the walls inside. Maybe the owner thought they were tapestries. The whole place was dark, with much of the windows obscured by an array of items, some on the sills, some hanging from the top. The place was very dusty, and musky too. There was a faint scent of incense.
“What can I do ya for?” Bob asked.
“The lady outside said you're the best place for charms.”
“That I am. Got all sorts here. You want friendship bracelets? Something for a communion gift? I've got ready-made bits in gift boxes, hey presto, ready to go. Or I can do you something unique. We do hand-carved medallions with your name on it, great for birthdays. Or pick and mixes too for the more generic trinkets.”
“This is going to sound odd,” Melanie said.
“Try me.”
Melanie cleared her throat. “Do you sell noses?”
The dealer raised an eyebrow. “Do I sell noses?”
“Charms in the shape of a nose, or symbolic of a nose, or … something like that.”
“No, I don't think so,” he said. “I can't see them being very popular.”
Melanie must have looked very dejected, because the shopkeeper got overly sympathetic, coming around the front and taking her hand.
“Now, don't you worry, young miss,” he said with a twitch of his moustache. “There could be a nose in here somewhere if you're dead set on it. I get buckets of bits and bobs coming in every week. Nary the time to check 'em all. Why, come on down here and we'll have a look for ya.”
He led her further into the store, which was bigger than it looked, through some of the aisles that got even less light from the obscured windows. He pointed out boxes here and there, which he said were worth rooting through, and then led her around to another aisle, where she stumbled upon Eckhart, who was already searching through some of the boxes there.
“Toby,” she said, surprised.
“Mel? I thought you weren't coming?”
“I … I got a moment free.”
The shopkeeper looked back and forth between them. “I'll leave you to it then.” He ambled off, and the jovial air he created faded, leaving behind the cooler air between Melanie and Eckhart.
“Have you found anything?” Eckhart asked her.
“Not yet.”
“I got this,” he said, holding up what looked like an identical charm to the bound hand found on the first victim. Melanie took it from him. “There's a whole box of them over there,” he added.
“So it's not rare.”
“Doesn't appear to be,” Eckhart said. “But that doesn't really help us though, because it means anyone could have bought it. Hell, there's probably hundreds out there.”
“See if you can find the other ones.”
Then she paused, as she thought she heard a familiar voice. Eckhart was about to say something, but she shushed him. She gestured for him to duck low.
“What's up?” he whispered.
“Listen,” she whispered back.
Eckhart squinted as he strained his hearing. “Is that … Carla?”
Melanie peeked between some of the boxes, spotting Carla at the till. The shopkeeper had a box of trinkets and charms already packed for her. They cracked a few jokes. It seemed Carla was a regular. As she left, Melanie and Eckhart looked at each other.
“You don't think—?” Eckhart began.
Melanie shrugged. The list of suspects was growing longer. Carla was so sweet and innocent, no one would think twice about her. She could get away with murder.
The shopkeeper hobbled around to them, doing a double take as he spotted them both crouching to the floor.
“D-d-did you find anything?” he asked.
They had, though it wasn't what they came in for.
Chapter 27 – Approaching the Edge
They left the shop empty-handed, looking both ways to see if they could spot where Carla went. Melanie didn't know where she lived, but was confident Eckhart could get the details from Don. Maybe over another cigar.
Carla had vanished just as quickly as she came, along with her box of trinkets. She might have been right that everyone was a collector at heart, but not everyone was a killer. She didn't seem the type, but then they never did.
Eckhart's phone rang. He answered it, then handed it to Melanie.
“It's Don,” he said. “He said he tried calling you.”
She forgot she'd turned her phone off. She didn't want to talk to anyone. Yet here she was with all the old crew. She just couldn't escape them.
“What's up?” she asked Don.
“You better sit for this.”
“What's wrong?”
“We've got victim number five now.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Another one,” she told Eckhart.
She almost missed what Don said next. “Melanie, listen. It's Stephen.”
Chapter 28 – Almost a Full Collection
They raced back to the station, charged down the corridors, then burst into the room where they were keeping Stephen's paralysed body. He was just as bad as the suspended man, and there was already talk of sending him downstairs.
“Have you got anything?” Melanie asked Don.
Don almost hid behind his clipboard. He wasn't good with the mushy stuff. Maybe he thought she was going to break down on seeing Stephen. She wasn't, though she was silently breaking. The whole case was causing some cracks.
“Nothing,” Don said. “Just the usual.”
“A nose?”
“Yes. Looks like something Neolithic, a fossil of some kind. The nostrils are now filled with the same stone as the rest of it.”
“So that's smell gone.”
Don raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing. We've pretty much run out of time.”
“There's still one to go,” Eckhart said. He was circling the bed that Stephen was laying still on, with his eyes forever open. The look of fear in his face was frozen there. It was enough to make you shiver.
“I hate to say it,” Don said, “but at least that'll be the end of it.”
“What makes you so sure?” Eckhart asked.
“I presume it'll all end once all six charms are in place.”
“Or the perpetrator can go on doing this without fear of ever being caught,” Melanie said. “All our senses will be blocked then. We could have a mountain of evidence, but we wouldn't even know it's there.”
“Speaking of which,” Don said. “I better bring this up to the lab.” He held up a small plastic bag with the fifth charm in it.
“I'll take it,” Melanie said. “To add to Carla's collection.”
Chapter 29 – Back in the Lab
Melanie headed up to the lab, where she found Carla whistling away as she carefully classified samples and evidence into a huge cabinet full of little plastic drawers. When she caught sight of Melanie clutching the plastic bag, she jumped up and down, clapping her hands together like a child on her birthday.
“Oooh, another one,” she said. She took the bag and held it up. “And we were right. That's the five conventional senses down.”
“Where did you put the other ones?”
“They're in a box on the table over there. I thought you already looked at them.”
“I want one last look.”
Melanie put on her white gloves, then took the four items out carefully. She sniffed them, one by one. There was no smell. That overwhelming stench of cigars was gone, just like Stephen was—though he wasn't quite dead yet.
“There was a smell off these before,” Melanie said.
“Really? I didn't get anything.”
“It was pretty strong.”
“Well, I tend to work with strong chemicals. My sense of smell isn't that great now.”
Melanie wasn't sure if she believed her. For all she knew, Carla could have scrubbed the charms clean.
“Ever collect charms yourself, Carla?”
Hibernian Charm (An Occult Detective Urban Fantasy) (Hibernian Hollows Book 2) Page 6