John stood and they shook hands. “Hi,” he said cheerfully.
“I’ve booked a conference room where we can talk,” Jane said, standing and picking up her papers.
“Coffee on route?” John asked.
“Naturally,” she said.
“And I need to make a phone call.”
John called the Cleaning Contractors who specialized in crime scene cleaning. They reassured him that his apartment would be ready by five that evening. If he wished he could stay at his own place that evening.
Satisfied, John joined Jane and Peter at the coffee machine and then Jane led them into the conference room.
***
Dearg Due and the Greyman arrived on foot of Deirdre’s panicked phone call.
Leanan did not look well. Her pallor was grey and she was slumped without energy on a couch in Deirdre’s living room.
“I rang Morag but she’s tied up with Lived Dutronc downtown,” Deirdre explained.
The Greyman smirked and met Dearg Due’s eyes. They both knew Morag had a relationship with Dutronc.
“What happened?” Dearg Due asked, getting businesslike.
“She even said something optimistic,” Deirdre explained.
“But what happened?” the Greyman insisted.
“She was interrogating one of the prisoners. They are both tied up naked in the cellar. She was making progress until she kissed the boy Oengus.”
“Did he kill himself in a fit of depression?’ Dearg Due asked.
“No she had an averse reaction. Like a fit. I had to haul her out and feed her whiskey to revive her.”
“She doesn’t look very revived to me,” the Greyman remarked while tapping Leanan on the cheeks.
Leanan groaned and opened an eye.
“Isn’t it a lovely day for romance,” she whispered hoarsely.
“By the Gods,” Dearg Due exclaimed in shock. Leanan had never been known to utter a positive remark.
“I’ll make a pot of tea,” Deirdre offered.
“Do you have any warm blood?” Dearg Due asked.
“Funny you should ask. I’ve got a cold supply in the fridge for spell purposes. It’s still within the ‘best before’ date. I can warm it in the micro wave?”
“Thanks.”
“Tea is fine for me,” the Greyman said, sitting and observing Leanan closely.
“What do you think?” Dearg Due asked.
“The boy...”
“Oengus,” Dearg Due interjected.
“He can’t be human. This is mega, nobody has ever overcome Leanan.”
“Well that’s good news at least. We’ve found out he must be of magic provenance.”
“Yes and that suggests a careful approach. To overcome Leanan he must be of a high magic provenance.”
“Otherworld is a complicated place,” Dearg Due agreed.
“But we can turn it to our advantage, I hope,” the Greyman said.
Deirdre arrived with the drinks and a few biscuits, but thoughtfully, a few slices of raw liver for Dearg Due.
“Are they well secured?” Dearg Due asked.
“Yes, bound in silver chains reinforced with a spell. They won’t be going anywhere soon,” Deirdre replied with satisfaction.
“Why whiskey?” the Greyman asked.
“Leanan said she hates whiskey. I thought it might help restore her depressed outlook?” Deirdre said.
“Good thinking, give her some more,” Dearg Due said.
***
John was into his third coffee and getting bored when Jane said, “OK its time to get out in the field,”
“Where?” John asked.
“The trouble started in the Secondary treatment process,” Jane said, adding, “I’m going to wash my hands first.”
As she spoke she left the conference room.
John looked at Peter and shrugged.
“Secondary treatment is called the activated sludge process,” Peter said to show he knew his stuff.
“Yes, I know,” John replied. “Large aeration tanks are used to mix the sludge and stimulate the growth of oxygen-using bacteria normally present in the sewage.”
“That’s when the trouble started. The aeration set something off and then it moved back to the primary and preliminary treatment areas and then back into the sewers in the combined sewer system and into the catch basins, and then back into the wastewater from in homes and business from toilets and drains and also into run off systems from rain and sidewalk washing etcetera,” Peter continued, unfazed by John’s impatient tone.
When Jane returned she was a tad irritated to find her two assistants were still discussing the water system.
“Come on we need to dive in,” she said without apparent irony.
“I need to collect an item first. It’s in the natural history museum,” John said as he stood and put on his jacket.
“I have copies of the reports from the water people. We can run a double check their results?” Peter suggested.
“No way,” Jane said. “That’s a massive job, no we must get out there and find anomalies, things the routine and systematic checks won’t reveal.”
“I suggest we start where the water people have not been. We can look at the Manhattan stage of the water tunnel number three. It’s possible the introduction of the new tunnel introduced something unexpected. Tunnels number one and two have never caused this type of problem,” she added.
“Commissioned in 2013,” Peter interjected.
“Have you been there?” John asked.
“Not yet, looking for permission,” Peter admitted.
“When its empty it looks like a subway tunnel,” John explained.
“Drinking water for the city,” Jane added. “If it’s clear we search downstream.”
“If not we go upstream?” John suggested.
“Good thinking,” Jane said.
“But maybe in some of the shafts also,” John added. “The water flows by gravity under the city but it rises again to the surface under natural pressure through a number of shafts.”
“OK,” Jane agreed. It was clear John would set the agenda around where they would look for anomalies.
“How do we get into the system?” Peter asked.
“Simple, at this moment all over Manhattan the water people have opened the access shafts to get in and test the water. We show our Fire Service Identification and let ourselves in.”
“If there is a problem they can talk to the Mayor. He’s fully on board with our task force,” Jane added, determination in her voice.
“He’s a relative of mine,” Peter interjected. “I have his private number.”
“Shouldn’t be necessary,” Jane said.
“And the Natural History Museum is on the way. It will only take a minute,” John added.
“Peter leave everything except the maps,” Jane instructed.
“OK. I’ve got the maps,” Peter said. “Will I bring the sampling backpack?”
“Yes,” Jane said with a smile.
“The Manhattan leg of the tunnel is nine miles long,” John mentioned.
John hailed a cab and as they sat in Jane asked, “what is it you need?”
“Something a bit magical. I think it might help,” John said.
“OK.” Jane said agreeably.
John sat back and gathered his thoughts. The item he wished to collect had nothing to do with the water problem. It had to do with his problems with the murder of his former flatmate and vampires and things of magic provenance like witches.
He needed some special protection if he was to return to his apartment that evening. But he couldn’t explain the detail to any normal New York person. Not unless he wanted them to
think he was insane.
***
‘I have an idea,” Oengus said.
“What?” Maedbh asked.
“We need to get that blindfold off again and then you can freeze the chains.”
“Oengus, I can’t recall the detail but something in my studies said that silver chains protected by a spell are unbreakable.”
“I understand Maedbh but I’ve had a thought. Silver is not a very strong material. So in making a silver lock it is likely that the internal part of the lock is made of another metal.”
“Yes?” Maedbh said doubtfully.
“The small working bits,” Oengus explained.
They worked at it again and after a while Oengus managed to loosen the knots on Maedbh’s blindfold and it fell down around her neck.
Oengus bounced in his chair so that the lock at the rear became clearly visible to Maedbh.
“Do the spell at a side angle so if you miss it hits the floor and not me,” Oengus said.
“Bounce and turn until I tell you to stop,” Maedbh instructed.
When she was happy that the lock on Oengus’s chain was lined up and near enough so she could not miss, Maedbh began to pull up the spell, closing her eyes and chanting soundlessly.
“Maybe if you opened your eyes it would give better aim,” Oengus said nervously as he glanced over his shoulder.
Maedbh was in full train and ignored the remark.
There was a crunchy metallic noise as the lock on Oengus’s chains froze.
“Done,” Maedbh said.
But no sooner had she spoken than the ice fell off the lock.
“It’s protected,” she said.
Oengus twisted and pulled with all his strength, straining the lock and ending up falling over on to the floor, chair, chains and all.
“Ouch,” he said as he hit the floor.
But the job was done. The clasp on the lock opened. Some small frozen pieces of metal fell out of the lock.
“You were right, it wasn’t all silver,” Maedbh said excitedly.
Oengus struggled further until he slipped the chain through the clasps and then he was free except for the bands on his wrists ankles and neck. He stood and stretched.
“I don’t suppose they left your clothes in the room?’ Maedbh asked.
“No,” Oengus said, looking around.
“Problem is, I can’t do a frozen spell,” Oengus said, inspecting the lock on Maedbh’s chain.
“Leave me here,” Maedbh said after letting Oengus puzzle with the lock for a few minutes.
“I can smash the chair, it’s strong but only wood, and trouble is I might hurt you.”
“Do it!” Maedbh insisted.
Oengus knocked over the chair and using his own chair he began leveraging the supports. Then he tried propping it against the wall and smashing it with his feet. But his bare feet were not able to take the stress and give enough pressure. Finally he put the legs of his own chair down the back of Maedbh’s chair and leveraged it through the struts. There was a satisfying cracking noise.
“Well done but don’t make so much noise,” Maedbh hissed.
“Now it’s started to give we’ll get it,” Oengus forecast with confidence.
It took another fifteen minutes before Maedbh could wriggle free of the broken chair and she was left bound in the silver chains with lock to the rear and able to stand and jostle forward in small steps. Clearly she would only be able to walk slowly and definitely not run.
“There’s only one more problem,” Oengus said with a wry grin.
“What?”
“The door to the cellar is locked. We’re still locked in.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Puca looked at Venus and Venus met his gaze with a catlike stare. Unnerved Puca asked, “what do we do now?”
Venus sighed, realizing that although Puca Beag was bright for a Puca, Puca’s as a genus were not known for their intellectual ability.
“Summarize the position,” Venus coached.
“They discussed killing us but continued to search the apartment. Then they got a phone call and left, taking Oengus’s iPad with them.”
“So clearly something more urgent took them away. It is possible they will return in due course,” Venus added.
“So Venus, what do we do?”
“We need to vacate the premises,” Venus decided.
“The door is locked and the windows are closed. We are imprisoned,” Puca said sounding panicked.
“Puca what do you do best?” Venus asked.
Puca frowned in concentration. “What?” he asked.
“You shape shift Puca my friend. Currently you are a poodle, previously you were a pigeon and before that a cloak.”
“But Venus, the windows are locked shut, none of those will work,” Puca objected.
“How did we get into the apartment?’ Venus asked.
“I was Hugo and I opened the door when you showed me how to find the spare key.”
“Puca, what if you did another human and stood and opened the door?” Venus prompted.
Puca barked an enlightened bark. The penny had dropped.
“I can do a Dunquin Fisherman, not very tall but fully clothed including cap. It’s my party piece. I also do a convincing Hugo, but I haven’t got it quite right. Nina saw through me.”
“Do it,” Venus instructed.
“Which?”
“You just have to open the door. But do the fisherman, we don’t want to run across one of Hugo’s henchmen.”
“I wouldn’t mind another attempt at Hugo, I’m nearly right.”
“OK, just open the door. Then pick me up in case there are rats.”
“OK and what then?”
“Puca we go find Maedbh and Oengus.”
“I know the way as a pigeon flies,” Puca said.
“Now!” Venus insisted, running out of patience.
***
The Natural History Museum covers four blocks but at John’s insistence the cab stopped on west seventy Seventh Street
“You need the Central Park west entrance,” the driver pointed out.
“Staff entrance,” John said with a smile.
John stepped out of the cab.
“Wait for me here,” he said.
They watched until he disappeared into the building.
“We wait,” Jane said with resignation. The driver was happy, his meter was running and the passengers looked like they could pay. Jane and Peter took the opportunity to study further Peter’s maps of the water system.
John used his fireman ID to get past security into the office complex.
“Hi, John, what brings you here?” Morgan, the exhibits manager charged with site issues said in surprise as John stuck a head into his office.
“Random safety check.”
“Haven’t you guys enough to do with the city up in a heap over the contaminated sewer system?” Morgan asked.
“Computer generated. I need to check the thorium in the Meteorites minerals and gems area.”
“What? You know we don’t put radioactive stuff on show?”
“Morgan with all the turmoil going on we’re checking sensitive materials.”
“John, this is a hassle. You know thorium is a nuclear material. We’ll need to go to the secure storage area. As I said and you know, this material is not on public display given its nature.”
“Finely divided thorium metal presents a fire hazard due to its pyrophoricity and must therefore be handled carefully,” John said to show he knew his subject.
“Sure,” Morgan said to show he knew what the word meant.
“I know Morgan, but New York insists that dangerous or potentially dangerous mat
erial are verified regularly. I know there is a lot of turmoil so I’ll make it quick. It’s not the first time I’ve inspected in this area.”
“OK, I’ll get one of our technical people to bring you through.”
“Make it quick, there’s a lot going on.”
“Albert, I left an item in one of the containment slots,” John explained as the technician led him to the secure storage area below ground level.
“I thought you’d need to look at the radioactive isotopes?” the technician said with a puzzled frown. “By the way call me Al.”
“Sure thing Al. It’s in a fire service holdall clearly marked. I need to bring it back to the station.”
“Not if it’s become radioactive,” Al pointed out.
“How long have you been working here Al?” John asked.
“About six months.”
“Well Al, you’ll get used to seeing me. I do the regular safety checks.”
“So Morgan informed me, but he said nothing about you taking stuff out.”
“Our stuff, I mean Fire Service stuff. You’ll see it’s not radioactive.”
The containment area was deep walled and lined and the contents of the chambers were held in thick metal sliding containers.
Al was surprised that exposure to radiation inside the container had not affected what John had called ‘Fire Service Stuff.’
It was a rectangular holdall clearly marked ‘Fire Department Property’ in red letters. He ran the Geiger counter around it to double check. Registered as just normal.
“Thanks for your help. See you soon,” John said as he departed, taking the holdall with him.
Al watched him depart with a frown. That bag should have been contaminated but it wasn’t. But then it was Fire Service Stuff. He shrugged and went back to work.
***
Puca stopped and placed Venus on the roof of a parked car.
“I need to do pigeon and find the place,” Puca said.
“Get on with it,” Venus said resignedly.
“I’ll do a police horse when I get back.”
“Whatever,” Venus replied and settled down on the roof.
The Great Fury Page 16