She handed me the wind-up key that fit in the side of the box and I passed the goods along to Frank, who stuffed it into his coat pocket for safekeeping. Jazz also provided him with the Encyclopaedia of Faeries, which he tucked under one arm.
‘Thanks, Jazz. You’re a diamond.’
‘No problem at all,’ she trilled. ‘Now kindly fuck off out of my shop, would you?’
Chapter Fifteen: You Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine
So the killer was an Arcadian. Even under the microscope of Jazz’s relentless logic, it was hard to fathom. Arcadians lived in a land of daydreams and legend. What could they possibly stand to gain by coming to London? That would be like living in Hawaii and spending your holiday in Grimsby. Utter madness.
And there were other things that didn’t add up. For one, why would an Arcadian be packing a shooter when he had magic at his disposal? And what was with the place he was living in? Alone. Arcadians were royalty. Royalty came in packs, and they lived in great big castles, not grubby little squats. If he was part of the well-to-do set, why was he slumming it in the arse-end of nowhere? I had no idea, and something told me enlightenment was a way off yet. This case was starting to look like Donald Trump's hair: the longer I stared at it, the more questions I had.
We made tracks from Legerdomain—heading after the Arcadian I thought—but the moment we left the shop, our paths forked.
‘Wrong way, Kat,’ I said, noting how the glow bug in the jar Frank carried was straining north-east, yet Stronge was heading in a different direction.
‘We need to make a stop first,’ she replied.
‘What are you talking about? We need to strike while the iron’s hot.’
‘Not until I’ve spoken to the vic.’
I laughed. ‘Are you off your chump, Kat? We’ve got a direct line to the perp here. Why would we take a break now?’
‘Because I think she’s holding out on us.’
This time I didn’t laugh. ‘What possible reason could my client—a dead person—have for lying?’
‘You’re dead. Do you always tell the truth?’
I threw my hands in the air like an evangelical preacher. ‘When it comes to how I ended up that way, yeah. Look, the woman’s counting on me to find her killer and bring him to justice. Why would she throw a spanner in the works? That’s not cutting your nose off to spite your face, it’s chopping your whole head off and feeding it to a wood chipper.’
Frank made a face that said, Oh no, Mum and Dad are fighting again.
‘If your client is so honest, explain the makeup.’
The demand came so far out of left-field that I didn’t know what to do with it. ‘You what?’
‘The suspect was wearing makeup to cover his blue skin. How come she didn’t figure that out?’
‘Same reason we didn’t until I got a hand on his face.’
‘That was in an alleyway at night. You saw the inside of that hotel room; it was bright and they were together for hours. There’s no way she wouldn’t have noticed he was made-up, no matter how well he put it on. Slap a bit of mascara on a guy and people will notice it; cover him in foundation and he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.’
She had a point, though I failed to see how it was our most pressing concern right then. We had a beeline to the killer and we’d be mad not to make use of it while we had the chance.
‘It’s been bugging me ever since we revisited the crime scene,’ Stronge continued. ‘I put it aside at first, but now I can’t let it go. Something’s up with the vic’s story.’
The bug Frank was carrying settled at the bottom of the jar, its glow dim as a dying ember. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the conversation I was having with Stronge was making it as weary as it was me.
‘I don’t want to get into an argument about this, Kat.’
‘We’re not arguing, we’re just experiencing diverging viewpoints.’
If that wasn’t splitting hairs, I didn’t know what it was.
‘Let’s say you’re right and the vic knew about the makeup,’ I said, humouring her. ‘What difference does it make?’
‘It means she’s being elastic with the truth. She told you she didn’t know what kind of Uncanny did her in, right? If she had information that could plug that gap, why would she keep it to herself?’
‘You’re being paranoid, Kat. She’s just a call girl who took the wrong call, that’s all.’
She rolled her eyes at me. ‘You’re being naive. There’s a hole in her story bigger than the one in her forehead, and I want to know why.’
‘She passed my smell test fine.’
‘Great. Now let’s have a real detective question her and see what happens.’
She was starting to piss me off now. ‘You know what this sounds a lot like? It sounds like victim-blaming.’
‘Oh, please. All that’s happening here is me crediting your client with a bit of intelligence instead of treating her like a brainless damsel in distress.’
I was done debating. Time to put my foot down. ‘She’s been through enough already. I’m not having you treat her like a suspect. End of.’
For a moment, Stronge’s jaw went tight. When the muscles loosened again, so did her demeanour. ‘Jake, when it comes to being fooled by women, you’ve got form. You’re a soft touch, you know that. What I’m asking isn’t unreasonable. Before we put ourselves in harm’s way, let’s find out if she passes my smell test, too.’
‘I don’t know, Kat…’
‘And I didn’t know about letting you revisit the crime scene, but I went through with it anyway and look what happened.’ She gestured to the bug in the jar. ‘All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind and extend me the same courtesy.’
I supposed it did only amount to a minor diversion in the grand scheme of things. We had the means of finding the Arcadian now, and he wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. He’d need to build another cocoon to recover from the whack I’d given him, because he sure as shite wasn’t getting patched up in an A&E.
And there was another reason to stop by the office: the welfare of my client. Tali had been left alone for too long. If she didn’t get some human contact soon, there was a chance she’d become insubstantial and be lost to the ether, or worse, turn feral. Tali hadn’t had a sniff of company since I agreed to take her case—who knew what state she’d be in now? She’d been a model of self-control when I left her, but if I stayed away for much longer, the bitterness would soon creep in. Left unchecked, she could become an unquiet spirit who wreaked havoc on the living, same as the one I was forced to obliterate after I disturbed her walled-up bones. And what would the point in catching Tali’s killer be if taking him down meant her becoming a mindless revenant? No, I couldn’t have another doomed spirit on my conscience.
‘Okay, Detective, I’m giving you the lead.’
She opened her mouth as if to say something unsavoury, thought better of it, and extended a hand instead. I made mine solid enough to get a grip of it and we shook out a deal.
‘Friiieeends,’ said Frank, grinning like a kid at the second wedding of his divorced parents.
Chapter Sixteen: Dead Reckoning
Tali just about jumped out of her skin when I came walking through the door (technically speaking, ghosts can already be said to have jumped out of their skin, but you know what I mean).
‘Where have you been?’ she asked, her voice a raw, chain-smoker’s baritone.
The question was aimed at me with the precision of the bullet that had passed through the centre of her forehead.
I showed her my palms. ‘I’m sorry, all right? I should have dropped you a line, but we’ve been chasing your killer non-stop since the moment we left this place.’
‘And?’
‘And we’ll have him any minute now.’
She looked as doubtful as she did hurt, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. ‘I can’t stay here any more. I’m going insane trapped in this place. I have to get out.’
Shafts of moonlight pierced the blinds of the office window, casting silver bars on the walls that could only have added to the feeling of being a prisoner.
‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ I replied.
Going walkies would only put her more at risk of turning feral. I needed to keep her contained if I was going to stand any chance of helping her pass on to the next place.
‘What am I supposed to do then?’ she cried. ‘Hover by the front door waiting for you to show up, pinny around my neck, cocktail in hand?’
The bullet hole in her forehead flared like the opening of a furnace, hot and red. When I’m dealing with a ghost, I’m on the lookout for signs like that. Signs that they’re losing their grip on reality and becoming something monstrous.
Frank shuffled forward and offered Tali a hankie. She took it with a “thanks” and dabbed her eyes dry.
‘Christ, even the zombie’s better at comforting a woman than you are.’
I didn’t challenge her for using the zed word. Didn’t seem like the time.
‘I promise this will all be over soon, Just hold on just a little while longer, okay? Can you do that for me, Tali?’
She softened. Not by much, but there was some give. ‘I get that you don’t want me roaming around, but do I have to stay here? The place freaks me out.’
‘Well, it would. It used to be a funeral home before we moved in. Still got the coffins.’
‘All right, enough chit-chat,’ said Stronge, taking a seat at my desk. It was the first thing she’d said since she stepped into the room, so it landed with a thud.
‘You’re the detective I met at the hotel, aren’t you?’ asked Tali, sizing up the other woman as if noticing her for the first time. ‘The one who sent me here?’
‘How about I ask the questions for now, eh?’
‘It’s okay,’ I told my fellow phantom. ‘Kat’s assisting us with your case. She just wants to help.’
Despite these words of assurance, she regarded Stronge with steel in her eyes. The detective’s brusque pronouncement had signalled a shift that was felt by all: one that changed the mood in the room completely. This was no longer a conversation, it was an examination.
‘I think there’s stuff going on here that you’re not telling us,’ said Stronge, offering Tali a seat. ‘And I want to know what it is.’
Without breaking eye contact, she took a seat—not on the chair, but on the corner of the desk opposite Stronge, maintaining the higher ground. She crossed one umber leg over the other and cast a withering look at her interrogator. Meanwhile, Frank and I were left standing around like a couple of tourists in our own home.
‘What is it you think I know, Detective?’
Stronge set her palms down flat on the desk and hooked her feet around the legs of her chair. ‘What do I think? I think you know the man who killed you was an Arcadian. That’s what I think.’
I’d seen Stronge employ more tact than this in the station’s hospitality suite: her nickname for the interrogation room at the cop shop she worked out of.
Tali shook her head, agitating her storm of hair. ‘An Arcadian? I don’t even know what that is. What kind of a detective are you exactly?’
‘The kind that wants to know how you and the man we’re chasing came to meet.’
‘Same way I meet all my Johns: by email.’
‘I see,’ replied Stronge. ‘So what do you do, scrawl your address on the walls of pub toilets?
‘Okay, that’s enough, Kat,’ I put in.
Stronge let out a harsh breath that I took as a warning. She carried on. ‘Answer the question. Please.’
Tali answered, ‘I advertise my services on a corner of the dark web Uncannies like to go. I don’t ask my customers about their creed or colour because that’s none of my business.’
‘How honourable,’ Stronge pinged back.
‘It’s not about that. It’s about money.’
‘Right. And tell me, do you often get paid to lie on your back for hours and not have sex?’
‘More often than you’d think.’
Stronge ran her eyes over the woman’s body, which seemed to have been built expressly for lewd acts. ‘Sure you do, princess. And I fart wind chimes.’
The backchat was flying around like paintballs at a teambuilding weekend. If this carried on, someone was going to lose an eye.
‘Is that everything, Detective?’ I asked, placing my hands on the back of her chair, doing my best to bring the interview to a close.
‘Not by a long shot.’ Stronge’s head snapped in Tali’s direction. ‘I think you’re full of shit. I think there’s no way an independent escort who moves in a world of monsters doesn’t vet her Johns before she gets into bed with them. Thoroughly. And even if you didn’t know what you were dealing with until the two of you were in the room, there’s no way you wouldn’t have figured out he was hiding something. So admit it. Admit that you knew he had blue skin, and that the only reason you didn’t say so is because you knew what that meant.’
Tali’s spine straightened and her fists went hard. ‘You’re wrong.’
‘If I am, you’re either stupid or suicidal. So which is it?’
Finally, Tali snapped, exploding from the desk and landing in front of Stronge, her finger wagging an inch from the detective’s face. ‘Stop acting like this is my fault,’ she yelled, jerking a thumb at the pit in her forehead, which was spitting sparks now. ‘I died. I’m the victim here.’
Stronge folded her arms, refusing to tip her chair back so much as a single degree. ‘Very convincing. That’s the thing with hookers though, isn’t it? They know how to fake it.’
Tali let out a strangled sob. Jesus. Stronge was grilling the poor cow so hard it’s a wonder she didn’t catch fire. Tali looked to me for help and Stronge did the same. I had a choice to make: comfort the dame or aid the bull. God help me, I chose the latter.
Holding my nose, I went along with Stronge and turned up the heat some more.
‘The detective’s right,’ I said. ‘You’re not telling us everything you know, and if you’re not going to work with us, you don’t deserve our help.’
She looked back at me with tears in her eyes. ‘Please, Jake…’
I choked back a swallow so dry I could actually hear it. ‘Fine, have it your way. Good luck out there, Tali, because you’re on your own. You know where the door is, but feel free to head through the wall if you’d prefer.’
Tali stared at me in disbelief, her bottom lip trembling, then she broke, not with anger, but with aching howls that wracked the whole of her body. ‘I knew, okay? I knew he was an Arcadian.’
And there it was. I’d been so convinced she was telling the truth, but it was like Stronge said: I was being played. I’d treated my client as a damsel, an innocent, a face in a locket, but she wasn’t some pretty little thing sitting on the sidelines. She was a player. The question that remained now was, what was the game?
‘Why would you lie about that?’ I asked.
She found her breath. ‘Because we both know how powerful Arcadians are.’
I did now, thanks to Jazz, but how did she?
She explained, ‘Your detective friend was right: I do my research. When I saw the blue in the creases of his skin, I knew what I was dealing with.’ She let slip a bitter sigh. ‘I didn’t care. He was a good talker and he seemed harmless enough.’
‘Even though he was in disguise?’ I persisted.
‘Aren’t we all trying to be something we’re not?’
I looked to Frank, my friend, my partner, but also the human suit I stepped into when I wanted to fool people into thinking I was alive.
‘You said you lied to us because Arcadians are powerful,’ said Stronge. ‘What did you mean by that?’
Tali wouldn’t look at her. Instead, she addressed me. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t take the case with fae involved. And if you wouldn't help me, who else could I turn to? No one else cares that I’m dead. Nobody.’
‘And tha
t’s it?’ I said. ‘That’s the only reason you lied to me?’
‘It’s a pretty big reason.’
It was.
‘Okay, fresh start. Is there anything else you’re not telling us? Anything at all?’
‘Nothing, I promise.’ She held up her fingers honest injun style, and the copper ring she wore captured the light of my desk lamp, making its emerald sparkle.
‘Is that an engagement ring?’ asked Stronge. I’d noticed the jewellery when Tali first came to me, but hadn’t followed up on it at the time. ‘You got a man out there?’
‘Used to,’ Tali replied.
‘What was he like, your fiancé?’ The hard edge in Stronge’s voice had blunted, but it wasn’t gone completely.
‘He was sweet. Wanted me to get out of the game. I should have listened to him.’
She rotated the stone away from us and placed her hands one over the other, hiding the ring in her lap.
I looked to Stronge as if to say, Satisfied? Eventually, she gave me a nod. The interview was at an end. No further questions, M’lud.
I thanked Tali for her honesty and apologised for being rough on her, explaining that we only had her best interests at heart. Now we knew what we were dealing with and that we could trust her, bringing in the Arcadian would be that much easier. At least that’s what I told her. Frank and I both knew that having a lead on a suspect was a very different story to apprehending one.
All the same, we were going to do our utmost to bring him to justice, so I said goodbye to Tali, promising that I’d do a better job of keeping her in the loop as we closed in on her killer. It was only a matter of time now, and the sooner we got to work, the better.
‘Good luck,’ said Tali, putting on a brave smile. ‘Make it back soon and maybe I’ll mix you that cocktail after all.’
I gave her a nod and we took off, but not before Stronge pulled me into the room next door with a hushed, ‘Can I have a word?’
Frank and I followed her into the showroom, a dusty hangover from when the building was still a funeral home. Stronge closed the door behind us and the sound disturbed one of our houseguests, sending a spider with legs as thick as pipe cleaners scuttling out of a nearby coffin and scurrying under a skirting board by Stronge’s foot. She let out an appalled yelp.
Deadly Departed: A Supernatural Thriller (Fletcher & Fletcher, Paranormal Investigators Book 2) Page 10