Tallow Jones: Wizard Detective (The Tallow Novels Book 1)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  Patricia folded her arms. “Yeah, he tried to use his relation to you to talk us into letting him into the crime scene. Does the chief know you have a P.I. helping you on a case?”

  Douglas winced. He didn’t like that connotation. P.I. was a dirty acronym at the station. “He came down from Idaho and volunteered to work on Asher’s disappearance.”

  “You think this has something to do with your boy?” Henry said, jerking his thumb towards the kitchen.

  “How?” Patricia asked.

  “Asher was friends with the daughter of the homeowner. She went missing a week before he did,” Douglas explained. He looked into the blood-soaked kitchen and saw the bare feet of the corpse protruding from behind the island. “So what do you know so far? Is that Mister Roberts?”

  “The victim didn’t have identification on him, but his face matches the picture on the mantle, so I think so,” said Henry.

  “You can’t walk directly into the kitchen without treading on the evidence, so you’ll need to go around,” said Patricia. She reached into a box on the countertop and pulled out two blue plastic booties. “You’ll need these.”

  Douglas stretched them on over his shoes and followed the two detectives around the interior of the house through the carpeted living room. The place was a mess. Assorted garbage and empty bottles of alcohol were strewn across the floor. They had to step carefully over the blood trail which led to the kitchen from the center of the living room.

  “The attack must have started here,” Douglas observed, staring at the floor just in front of the couch where the blood trail began.

  “Or at least this is where it got bloody,” Henry said.

  They led Douglas past a banister that headed to the upstairs and through the small dining room and table covered in pizza boxes and unopened mail. From here Douglas could see into the kitchen more clearly.

  The body was lying face up, glassy eyed in a pool of blood. The man looked to be in his mid-forties. He had a week’s worth of beard growth on his face and wore a blue t-shirt and sweatpants. Both items of clothing were soaked red and torn exposing ugly wounds.

  “Do we know how he was killed?” Douglas asked.

  The forensic tech turned to face him. “Won’t know exactly ’till the medical examiner gets here, but it could have been any of these wounds.”

  “His torso is covered with slashes and punctures,” Patricia said. “We haven’t found the murder weapon yet, but it could be some kind of knife.”

  Douglas chewed his lip. Or a sword. Those wounds looked too severe for any regular knife. “Have you figured out how the killer got in?”

  “No signs of forced entry. Maybe he let them in,” Henry said, scratching his head. “An even weirder question is how the killer got out. The place was locked up and deadbolted. Front and back doors. Even the windows were latched except for the bathroom upstairs.”

  “I gather from the way you said that, there’s no way anyone came in that way?” Douglas said, already knowing the answer. Tallow sure had this part of the evidence figured out.

  “It’s a tiny window. I guess if they were really scrawny and they scaled the rear of the house,” Patricia said. “We were just about to go outside and check out that possibility.”

  Douglas nodded just as his cellphone rang. He had the standard ring tone installed, an old school chime just like the ancient phone in his kitchen back home. He lifted the phone. The caller ID said “Chief.” His eyebrows rose. Chief Johnson rarely called her detectives directly. This couldn’t be good.

  He put the phone to his ear. “Hello, Chief?”

  “Detective Jones, I’m calling about your partner,” she said. Her voice was less businesslike than usual, her tone softer, something that made him immediately nervous. “Ross was just taken to the hospital. Evidently he collapsed at your crime scene. The EMT says he had a high fever. Says he was scratched by an animal?”

  “It wasn’t just any animal,” Douglas said, his thoughts numb. “How bad is it?”

  “I don’t know, the ambulance should just be getting to Peachtree Memorial about now,” she said. “You can fill me in later about that animal. I’ve got a meeting to go into. Would you do me a favor and call Judy and let her know?”

  “Sure, Chief,” Douglas said. Bob’s wife Judy would just be getting off work about now anyway.

  “And text me updates. I want to know how he’s doing,” she added.

  “No problem. I’ll head over to the hospital myself,” Douglas replied. He hung up and turned to the other detectives. “I’ve got to go. It’s Ross.”

  The two of them had heard enough of the conversation to get the gist. Patricia nodded at him. “We’ll copy you on our report.”

  “Thanks,” Douglas said and headed back around to the front door. When he stepped outside, Tallow was standing outside looking at him expectantly. Agatha was right beside him, still knitting away. Douglas started across the lawn. “I need to go to the-.”

  “I heard,” Tallow said, stepping beside him.

  Douglas paused. “How?”

  “Magic,” Agatha said as if it was obvious and Douglas supposed it should have been at this point.

  “You were listening to everything?” Doug asked his uncle, wondering just what limits there were to the man’s abilities.

  “Of course,” Tallow said and pulled out his keys. “I’ll follow you to the hospital. Hopefully there’s time for me to fix him up.”

  Sighing, Douglas said, “Fine, but you had better not give him any ‘I told you so’s’. He’s already promised to punch you in the nose.”

  “Uncle Bob?” Agatha said, guessing who they had to be speaking about. “Is he okay? What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you in the car,” Tallow said.

  “No,” said Douglas, worried about what frightening details his uncle would give away. Agatha had heard enough for the day. “Aggie will ride with me.”

  Chapter 14: Ross

  Peachtree Memorial Hospital had been founded in 1945 as part of a Christian ministry. For the majority of its existence it had been a modest downtown hospital that had served the poorer urban communities for decades. Until the 1990’s when it was purchased and rebuilt by a multi-state healthcare conglomerate. Now it was a sprawling state-of-the-art facility that took up the space of an entire downtown block.

  Douglas and Tallow parked in the eight-story parking garage across the street from the hospital and were lucky enough to find parking spots on the fifth floor. They took the stairs down to the fourth floor and approached the skyway that connected the parking garage with the hospital proper.

  Agatha walked between them, clicking away on her knitting. She had spent the car ride to the hospital absently replying to her father’s agonizing attempt to ease her tender heart over the murder scene. In reality she had been focused on ripping out the cane cozy she had been making for Tallow. She had come up with a better purpose for the yarn. Agatha was making a bag for Reginald Rockingham III; something small that she could carry around without people wondering why she had a pet rock with her.

  They pushed through the rotating doors to the skyway and stepped onto the moving sidewalk that would take them across.

  “Are you sure this is a hospital?” Tallow asked, his left hand tightly clutching the moving rail. “Feels more like an airport.”

  Douglas arched an eyebrow at his uncle’s discomfort. “More like an expensive hotel for people who are sick.”

  “That describes every hospital,” Tallow said as they reached the end of the moving walkway. Douglas and Agatha exchanged amused glances as Tallow stumbled off of the end. The wizard recovered his dignity quickly and cleared his throat. “This seems overly extravagant.”

  “That’s what everybody says when they get the bill,” Douglas replied. They stepped into an elevator and Douglas pressed a button. “I called ahead. Bob is on the sixth floor of the main building. If he doesn’t recover soon they’re likely to move him to the ICU.”

  �
��What’s wrong with Uncle Bob, Uncle Tallow?” Agatha asked.

  Tallow grunted, his face paling at the upward movement of the elevator. “He was scratched by a moon-.”

  “A bacterial infection,” Douglas interrupted, shooting his uncle an irritated glance. “Like I told you already in the car.”

  Agatha shrugged innocently, but Douglas knew her methods. She had already tried to pump him for information and since that had failed she had been trying to find looser lips.

  The elevator dinged and the door opened. They stepped out into one of the hospital’s labyrinthian corridors. Douglas sighed as he looked at the confusing map on the wall in front of them. They were looking for room 6470 . . . It took him a moment, but Douglas finally puzzled out which way to go and started them down a hallway.

  “You don’t look too good, Uncle Tallow,” Agatha observed.

  Tallow gave her a reassuring smile, his cane tapping on the tile beside him with each stride as they walked. “I’m fine. I just haven’t ridden an elevator in a long time is all.”

  Agatha frowned at him. “You keep saying stuff like that. ‘I haven’t been in a mall in a long time.’ ‘I haven’t had a pretzel in a long time.’ ‘It’s been a long time since I read Harry Potter.’”

  “It was true,” he said with a shrug.

  “But how could you not have been in an elevator?” she asked.

  Tallow blinked at her before replying. “There isn’t as much need for them in Idaho,” he said lamely.

  “They don’t use elevators in Idaho?” Agatha scoffed.

  Tallow let out a forced laugh. “Of course they do. I just don’t use them very often.”

  “How could that be, Tallow?” Douglas had to ask. He took them down a branching hallway. “Do you only do detective work in one story buildings?”

  “Very funny,” Tallow replied. “There’s such a thing as stairs, you know. It’s good exercise.”

  “Ohh,” said Agatha, nodding. “You just have a fear of elevators.”

  “It’s not that at all. It’s . . .” He rolled his eyes and said with a dull tone, “Okay you got me, Aggie. I’m deathly afraid of elevators. You have no idea how much willpower it took for me to get in there.” He quickly changed the subject. “Douglas, are they going to give us any problem going in to see Bob?”

  Douglas smiled at his discomfort. “I don’t think so. Flashing my badge should get us past most nosey nurses, but if they move him into ICU we might have a hard time.”

  “Do you know what they’ve tried?” Tallow asked.

  Douglas shook his head. “All I know is that they’ve got him on antibiotics and fluids. He’s had a high fever and has been in and out of consciousness.”

  “That bad, huh?” Tallow reached up to scratch his head. “I suspected that regular antibiotics would be less effective than usual, but I must say, this hit him harder than I expected.”

  “You can fix him, though. Can’t you Uncle Tallow?” Agatha asked.

  “Oh, I should be able to,” he said. “Depending on how bad it is. Healing isn’t my strong suit.”

  Douglas frowned at that less than confident admission. Tallow hadn’t made that kind of stipulation before. They came to a closed set of locked double doors. “I think his room’s in here.”

  He pushed a button on the wall by the door and spoke to a nurse who buzzed them through. They approached the nurse’s station and after Douglas showed her his badge they were directed towards Ross’ room with strict instructions not to wake him if he was sleeping.

  Douglas had been in a lot of hospitals over the years and one thing he had learned was that no matter how fancy the buildings were, the patient rooms were pretty much the same: Diagnostic equipment, a hospital bed, a single chair that a relative could recline enough to sleep in, a TV, and a bathroom. The only difference was the print on the curtains.

  Ross lay with his eyes closed, sweat beading on his pale gray forehead. IVs were plugged into his arms and his chest rose and fell with labored breathing. Tallow frowned and walked to his side.

  “Bob?” Douglas said softly.

  “He doesn’t look good,” said Agatha worriedly, pausing in her knitting.

  “He’s out,” said Tallow, bending over the man. He rested his cane against the side of the bed and stuck both hands out over Ross’s body. “And he’s burning up like I thought.”

  “I don’t get it,” Douglas said, shaking his head. “The scratches weren’t all that deep and it was just a rat.”

  “I thought you said it was a cat,” Agatha said.

  Douglas winced. That had been the official department story backed by the chief. Explaining to a hospital that some mutant rat creature had scratched one of their detectives would bring a lot of questions and would be the kind of story that would easily reach the press. So mutant rat had become exotic cat.

  “Douglas, there’s really no reason to hide this from her,” Tallow said. “Not after what she has seen today. She knows about my magic.”

  Douglas sighed. He had only wanted to keep her nightmares to a minimum. “Alright. It was a big rat.”

  “A moonrat,” Tallow said. “A creature that does not belong in this world. Think about it, Douglas. Does it not make sense that it would be carrying germs that don’t belong in this world? I had hoped that standard antibiotics would work, but I’m not too surprised that they don’t.”

  Tallow reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial with a cork stopper. The fluid inside was the green of new grass. He shook it up. “Fortunately, you have me.”

  Tallow pulled out the stopper and a somewhat floral smell filled the air. He reached behind Ross’ neck and tilted the man’s head back. He then opened Ross’s mouth. “Aggie, have Reginald tell you if anyone approaches the room.”

  “Okay,” she said and went back to knitting again. Douglas frowned at her.

  Tallow brought the vial to Ross’ lips.

  “Wait. What if he chokes on it?” Douglas said in sudden concern. He was suddenly quite aware of the fact that he was putting his partner’s life in Tallow’s hands.

  “I know what I’m doing. He’ll swallow,” Tallow said. He emptied the vial into Ross’ mouth and pushed his jaw closed. The man swallowed. “Good. That should speed things along.”

  “What was in that?” Douglas asked.

  “It’s a healing potion of my own design. A mix of elemental magic and elf magic,” Tallow said. His nose wrinkled. “I was hoping to save it for myself, but in this circumstance-.”

  “Elf magic?” Douglas said in disbelief.

  “It’s a sort of life magic. Helps a body’s ability to heal . . . generally.” Tallow waved a hand at him. “Now shush while I do my part.” He stuck his arms out over Ross’ chest again. “The first thing to do is reinforce his immune system a bit . . . Hmm . . . take his temp down. I can kill most of the bacteria and flush them out through his-. Oh, good. I see they have a catheter in him. That should make this less messy.”

  Douglas watched his uncle with jaw agape, trying to make sense of what Tallow was saying. He didn’t quite know what he was expecting Tallow to do, but standing there with his arms outstretched and jabbering wasn’t it. It was like he was watching a faith healer on one of those fake televangelist shows. “Is it working? Shouldn’t there be a glow or something?”

  “I could add one for show, but to be honest it’s taking all my focus just to do this right,” Tallow said. “If your mage sight was still working you could see it. Strands of blue and black magic coursing through him. Healing is mostly water and earth magic, you see.”

  “Water and earth,” Douglas said.

  Agatha shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  “Does it?” Douglas said doubtfully.

  “And . . . there!” Tallow said, lowering his hands. “I removed the inflammation and healed the scratches up a bit but not all the way. That would be hard to explain to the hospital staff.”

  “Good! It’s done?” Agatha said.

&nb
sp; “Indeed. Look, his color is already improved. His breathing has steadied. He should wake soon,” Tallow said with a grin. “I must say I’m quite proud of myself. Ha! And Matron Guernfeldt said I didn’t have it in me.”

  Douglas relaxed a bit, but now that his partner seemed to be out of immediate danger some of the questions that had been nagging him earlier rose to the forefront of his mind. “Tallow . . . if that rat thing is from another world and has germs from another world, how did you know how to heal it?”

  “Oh! Well, I spent a great deal of time in that world. It’s where I learned to use magic,” Tallow said with an apologetic smile. “I realize I didn’t tell you that specifically until just now, but I thought that it was kind of self-evident.”

  “But . . . Where is this world you’re talking about?” he asked, more questions tumbling through his mind. “How did you get there?”

  “It’s a magic world, Daddy,” Agatha said as if that explained it. “He went there with magic.”

  “It’s a long story,” Tallow said. “How I got there was kind of an accident. I don’t even understand it exactly. But I spent a long time there and found out I had the talent to use magic. I learned how to use it from other wizards and finally figured out a way to come back. Since then I have been using it to help me in my cases. I certainly never expected to find out that another wizard had come here.”

  Douglas tried to process what Tallow was saying. Something about it just didn’t feel true, but every part of the story was so strange that he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

  “What did you do to me?” said Detective Ross suddenly and everyone turned to see that the man was wide awake. His gaze was focused on Tallow. “I sort of remember being brought here. I felt like hell. Then I wake to find you here.” He smacked his lips. “And my mouth tastes like someone’s lawn.”

  “He healed you, Uncle Bob,” said Agatha with a smile. “With his magic.”

  Ross looked at her as if just noticing her in the room. “Hey there, Aggie. You okay?”

  She nodded. “Uh huh.”