His jacket was soaked with blood and it was easy to see why. His throat had been cut. The cut was deep, so deep that it looked like he had been decapitated. I looked a little closer and noticed that the back of his neck was still intact.
It was a bad death, not the worst I had seen, but bad nonetheless. It wasn’t even the gruesomeness of the crime that upset me or the fact that I knew the victim, one of them at least. It was the near certainty that this was related to whatever had killed Kevin and threatened Dalia and myself that caused me the most discomfort.
I let my vision unfocus and I tried to discern any vestiges of magic that might have been used here. There is always a faint background of magic that can be sensed. Some theorists believe that it is residue from the creation. Others, that it is a remnant of the titanic struggle between the Adversary and the Creator. Me, I don’t know what it is, but it gives the world a kind of red haze so subtle that you can just barely sense it. It’s quite handy when one is looking for a magical effect as it is highlighted by the very subtlety of the background.
It didn’t take very long for me to see that magic had been used here, but not to kill, just to make it easier. I’m don’t know what they used what it was, but I suspect that it was some kind of sound damping spell, to cover the sounds of the murder and torture. Pretty pointless actually, they probably could have used magic to get what they wanted from McNeely but apparently they preferred the hands on approach.
After I brought my focus back sharp and started looking over the desk. Splattered with blood, it was hard to make anything out. There were file folders tossed about, but one at the top of the heap was relatively easy to read. It had my name on it.
It was empty, but I took it with me anyway.
In general, it is a bad idea to tamper with evidence at a crime scene. This is another of those little things that upset the police so much. What you are supposed to do when this happens, is step out of the crime scene, call 911 and wait for the cops to show up. You then tell them why you are there and what you touched. This isn’t a bad idea if you are innocent and you believe in the infallibility of the justice system. In my case I failed on both counts. First, there was no way that I wasn’t involved with this murder. True, I didn’t kill either of them, but I would bet the reason they died had something to do with me. In addition to this little unpleasant fact, I couldn’t exactly come clean with them because it would involve an aspect of my dual identity which under The Compact, I was sworn to conceal. Besides, that information would make me look like a nutter. Second, Cops tend to like easy solutions. Here’s a PI on the scene of a gruesome murder scene with two bodies, who can’t explain why he’s there and who’s not being straight. He’s going to be looked at hard for it unless something else jumps up to take attention away from him. That wasn’t likely to happen in this case. I certainly wasn’t going to explain to the HPD that killers were probably members of the Black Watch, an elite unit of the Court of Dawn and experts in their craft who spent decades training or worse the Twilight Order who could teach a doctorate level course in being ruthless bastards. No, I wouldn’t be able to talk my way out of this with the mortal cops, so I would just have hope that I wouldn’t need to.
I didn’t waste any time in letting myself out. I wiped the doorknob that I had touched and the door that led to the parking lot. There was nothing I could do about the nail salon. But I’m naturally shy when I think I might commit a crime, like picking a lock, so I had done my best to minimize my exposure. This is one time when glamour would have helped me. Unfortunately, the downside of not being tricked by them is that they also won’t set on me with out major craft work. I’ve tried on various occasions to bring one up and it slides off me like a thick sludge. Very unpleasant and tiring.
I wasn’t sure exactly who would be investigating this crime scene, although I suspected that eventually the mortal authorities would be the ones who would try and solve this one. Not that they had much of chance if I was right about who did this. I felt bad about Chris McNeely. He was a good guy with a wife and kids. But he was in the game and that made him a fair target, just like me. I felt worse for the secretary. She was a civilian and shouldn’t have been in danger. They deserved justice and they weren’t likely to get it from anybody on this side of the veil.
I got in the minivan and slid the cell into the hands free holder and listened for the dial tone. I took out Bermuda’s card and dialed him. If he was in the Mortal world then I would probably get him otherwise it would just be voicemail. I was actually hoping for voicemail, but my crappy luck held and he answered.
“Detective Sergeant Bermuda, How may I serve?” It had the sound of an often repeated phrase, but he put enough effort into it so that he sounded legitimately interested in helping whoever called him.
“This is Jake Underwood.” The minivan made a sharp turn and sped towards I-10 as the tone changed from friendliness to wariness.
“Yes, Mr. Underwood. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Have you called to confess? That would certainly be a help.”
I smiled “No, not today. Maybe I’ll confess tomorrow. I just left the office of Chris McNeely and Co. I went there to see if I could shake out of him who might have hired him. That name probably means nothing to you but he was part of the second team that was on my office. I went to my office and they weren’t there anymore.”
“I know. I sent a few of my people over there to investigate what you told me yesterday and when they got to the scene they fled. In absence of specific instructions they did not pursue them. I hope that your inquiries were more successful than mine.”
“Yes and No. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him because he was dead. His throat was cut. That’s a little understated. His head was all but hacked off except for a flap of skin at the back of his neck that held it in place. The place is a wreck. His secretary took two in the back of the head.”
“The address please.” His playful tone had dropped away completely. I gave him the address. “I’d like you to wait there for me. I will have questions.”
“Sorry Sergeant, I’ve already left.” He started to talk but I cut him off. “There’s no way I am going to hang around this place and wait for anybody to show up. This guy had a family, the secretary probably did too. Unlike Kevin, they will be missed by somebody in the Mortal world and the Houston cops are eventually going to show up. The only reason I called you is that I think there is almost no chance that what happened to Kevin isn’t connected with this. I thought you might want to take a look before Houston’s finest were on the scene.” I merged onto Interstate 10 and sped towards downtown and Interstate 45.
“I see. What convinces you of this?” He question was calm and his words like ice.
“Three things. First, I knew both Kevin and this guy and he had my office under surveillance shortly after Kevin’s murder. Second, the method of execution. Whoever this guy is, he’s hell on the neck. Third, I did a background sweep of the office and picked up definite traces of magic.”
“Damn it! I told you that magic destroys any chance of using a re-enactment ritual!”
“Don’t blow a gasket. It was a passive scan only. It stuck out against the background like snowfall in Houston.” I took the exit to 45 and cut off another minivan.
“I have some other information for you as well.” I hit the turn signal and changed lanes. “I had an encounter with a member of the Court of Twilight, named Jeryn Callisandra a few days ago. He said some off things, you might want to look into him.”
“It would been more helpful if you had been more forthcoming with that information when we interviewed at the Silver Tree. We had already questioned him and released him.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think it was connected. You might also want to look into a few names and see what you can find out. One is Count Trellisor and the other is Lady Dalia Klaris, daughter of Lady Mayletha Melliscant. They might be involved in this mess.” I hated lying to him, but I didn’t want to prejudice him by telli
ng him what I thought. Besides he had a lot more resources than I did and if he used a few on my behalf it wasn’t going to kill him. At least I hoped not.
“How are these people involved?” I could tell that he had shifted the phone as was writing information down in his pad while he was talking to me.
“I don’t know if they are or not. They just came up in some of conversations I had the last few days.”
He was silent for a moment. “If someone else dies because you are withholding information from me, I will personally have you declared Unclean and will direct the hunt for you myself. Do not play games with me.”
“I’m not playing any. I don’t know how they fit. I’m hoping that any information you have on these two will help clear the mist a little so I can get a clearer view. For all I know they might not have anything to do with it other than me hearing their names during my investigation.”
‘Very Well. I will need to see you, where are you going to be? I will come to you.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, I’m going to be moving around a good bit for the rest of the day. Tell you what- as soon as I settle down I’ll give you a call and we can get together.” He knew I was lying when I said it, but had the good manners or sense to pretend I was telling the truth.
“Mr. Underwood. Against my better judgment, I am going to accept what you have told me at face value. If, subsequently, I discover that you have not been truthful with me, you will live just long enough to regret it. It will not be a long life but it will be incredibly painful. Do you understand what I am saying?” His voice was calm and smooth, making his threat all the more chilling.
“Yeah. I got it. Much as I have enjoyed our little conversation I do have other things that need doing. I would make haste to get over to McNeely’s office, you won’t have long.”
“I appreciate the advice and the call. Do call again if you find anymore bodies that you think I should see.” The sarcasm was thick and heavy.
“Absolutely. I’ll call again later when I’m in a better position to talk.” I lied and clicked off the phone and sped down the freeway towards Clear Lake.
Chapter Sixteen
By the time I pulled into the driveway of the safe house I realized that I was horribly short on leads. Chris McNeely’s murder was a clear indication that things were getting more desperate and I still didn’t have a good way to approach the problem. Worse, I was accumulating a large number of people who were unpleasant and upset with me. There was a squad of rouge Black Watch who might be interested in me. Dalia certainly had agents of the Twilight Order looking for her. They were the kind of guys who killed first and ‘oopsed’ later. On top of the crap mountain that was rapidly becoming my life, I also had to be at the Court of Dawn in two days for a Naming ceremony. I was beginning to think that Clear Lake might not be far enough to ground to hide Dalia. My current plan had been to stash her here until I got the ceremony out of the way, assuming that I wasn’t detained at the ceremony by Sergeant Bermuda. He might lack the resources to track me down here, but he would suffer no such impediment at the Court.
I gave Marty a call and told him that it was me coming in and that I would prefer not to be shot and he agreed that it would indeed be unfortunate. Once inside, I found Marty using a laptop. I came over and looked over his shoulder and saw that he had placed the wireless cameras at various access points and had the screen split into four sections, with cameras rotating through each square. I figured he had about fifteen of them set up like this.
“Where’s Dalia?” I asked as I took off my jacket and dropped it on the table. Normally when I come back to my apartment, I take off my gun, but with death rate rising around me I decided I might wear it for a while.
“She’s in her room. How’d it go with McNeely?” he kept typing in activation codes as he glanced up at me.
“Bad. He’s dead.” I tossed the empty, blood splattered folder that bore my name down on the table. “I found this on his desk. He’d been tortured to death. Very nasty. His secretary was dead too.”
“Patricia? That’s a damn shame. She was nice.” Marty always kept a tight rein on what he showed the world, and tonight was no exception. He picked up the folder and raised his eyebrows. “Empty. I wonder what McNeely had in here?”
“I don’t know for certain. I suspect it was probably contact information or maybe surveillance reports. Whatever it was, I wish they didn’t have it.” That was an understatement. Up until I saw that folder on the desk, I hadn’t realized how vulnerable my life here was. Plenty of ways to come at me and I wouldn’t even know who was doing it.
“You call the cops?” Marty was watching me while he pretended to be watching the monitor.
“Kind of.” I temporized trying to think of the best way to answer this. The truth was out. There was barely a chance that I could keep Marty from finding out about my double life, but as long as there was any chance at all I would play it out. I hated lying to friend, so a half truth might do it. “I phoned in anonymous tip to the relevant authorities.”
“Uh huh.” He looked at me for a moment and then returned his gaze to the laptop. “Is there any chance that this could be something else he was working on, something that doesn’t have anything to do with you?”
“A fair question. I wish the answer was yes, but I don’t see how it could be. I don’t believe in coincidences“. He nodded. Marty didn’t believe in them either.
“This changes things. It’s a murder now, multiple murders. You are going to have tell me what’s really going on, sooner rather than later.” He looked at me expectedly.
“Just give me a little more time. Just tonight. I need to talk to Dalia and a few other contacts and I’ll tell you everything I can tomorrow morning. As a favor?” I needed to think about this. Marty needed, no, he had a right to know. I was risking his life and Compact or no Compact, I would have to tell him something that was damn close to the truth.
“Okay. Over breakfast.” He turned back to the monitor and then stopped. “Why do you think McNeely was killed?”
“That’s a good question. I wish I knew the answer.” I shrugged. “The secretary had looked like a pretty clean hit, but why torture McNeely? His killers had to be the rest of the hard hitters who had been watching me. They must have known what he knew.”
“Yeah. That tracks.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen. “Why don’t you look in on Dalia and I’ll start dinner. I’m feeling hot doggish tonight.”
I knocked on Dalia’s door and heard a muttered ‘Come in.”. I opened the door and found Dalia carefully putting away her purchases. She was wearing a glamour sand while she was still attractive, it was in a much more muted way. Her beauty was like damped fire where before it had been a bonfire. I saw a few imperfections here and there that only enhanced the illusion that she was a mortal woman.
“Perfect. You look perfect. What did Marty say when he saw you?” I waved towards a chair and with her nod took a seat.
“When I came out, he looked at me for a moment and shook his head. I do not know what that meant, but he didn’t say anything, so I did not bring it up. What do you think of these jeans?” She pointed to her jeans and with a flourish twirled around displaying her clothing. They weren’t tight, but they fit well neither detracting nor emphasizing her figure.
“I don’t follow fashion much but those look fine. The top goes with it well. I don’t think you will draw undue attention in that outfit.”
“It is odd to wear pants like a man. I can not recall an occasion on which I have ever worn them. It is an odd feeling. It feels exposed and enclosing at the same time. I doubt it would ever become a popular fashion at court. I saw many mortal women wearing pants that seemed better tailored to their form, but Marty suggested these.”
“How did it go today?”
“It went well. We went into many shops and I tried on many outfits. Marty rejected many of them saying that I would only draw more attention wearing them. Almost all the clothe
s that we finally agreed on were very conservative by the standards of the Court.”
I nodded. “How was Marty? Did he ask you any questions?”
“He was a gentleman in all aspects. He talked to me very little and only offered advice when I specifically requested it. I think he wanted to ask me many things but I was quite glad that he refrained. He seemed nervous every time that we were not in the car or in a store. I was amazed by this market that sold food. Marty took it for granted, but there was so much variety! I can not think of any open air Market that offers so much variety. Are all of your markets like this?“ She was genuinely curious.
“I would guess that most of the markets that you have been to at court are much smaller affairs because everything that is offered is grown locally or nearby. The life of Court does not prepare an aristocrat for being exposed to food unless it has been prepared. I suspect that the variety that you saw here is available there but in more distributed form and only seen by those servants actually doing the cooking.”
“I suppose. I never considered that food must be so laboriously prepared. Our cook is a genius, I assumed that it was some kind of magic that prepared the dishes that he serves.” She paused and considered what next to say. “While I can not fault Marty’s demeanor or manner it is clear to that he suspects that there is something odd about me. He never said anything, but on occasion I would observe him studying me when I was not looking directly in his direction. It was not in the way that a man watches a woman he desires, it was more in the manner in which a cat watches a mouse that it expects to catch. I fear he is not deceived by either your story or my appearance. It is only a matter of time before he will challenge our versions of events with questions we can not answer with out revealing more than we would like.” It was interesting to see her discussing something so calmly. It occurred to me that this is the first time I had seen her in a calm state. She had a good brain hidden under all that court protocol and fey breeding. With a little training she would be a formidable opponent at the game of Court.
Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1) Page 15