Raven looked up from the file she was perusing and smiled. “A friend gave it to me. It would have been rude to turn it down.”
Levac grinned knowingly. “A friend, huh? This wouldn’t have something to do with that mysterious date you had last night, would it? A little present from an admirer?”
Raven flushed, not liking the attention. “Maybe… What did the crime scene guys turn up at the airfield?”
“Their report is in the pile on your desk.” Levac pointed at the stack Raven had been reviewing. “They don’t have the tox results on the incense yet, but there was nothing special about the felt and no trace evidence was found anywhere around the body. The boys did find a few latent prints on the door that belonged to your fan Tobias Boone, but that's about it.”
Raven frowned and switched to the crime scene file to review the photos again. “What about the black candles?”
Levac looked smug. “Ah, there’s the clue of the moment. They did indeed turn out to be tallow. But not just any tallow. These were specially made and are only sold by three stores in the city. One is some kind of magic shop in Old Town called Marie’s, another is a book store called Bits and Bobs in Lincoln Park and the last is a candle store called Light in the Darkness near the lake. I thought we could hit the first two on our way out to the marina to look up the Witchcraft.”
Raven stood and shrugged back into her jacket, stuffing Victoria’s autopsy file under her arm. “Let’s go, then,” she said, walking toward the door. “We don’t need to check Marie’s again; I was already there about the gris-gris bag we found under King’s seat.”
Levac followed, pausing to grab a donut from the box. Ignoring the powdered sugar pouring down his jacket, he asked, “Really? She have anything for us?”
Raven shook her head, leading the way down to the car park. “No, but she was interested in the case and was going to ask around for us. I'll pop in when she opens at dusk. And finish that donut before you get in my car. I don’t want you to get powdered sugar on the leather.”
III
It was still early when the detectives arrived at the Victorian-style house that served as a store front for Bits and Bobs, a book store that also sold a variety of ‘new age’ items such as candles and crystals—the kind of trinkets wannabe witches liked to leave around to upset their parents. The old house was decorated with a heavy gothic flavor. The building itself was painted battleship grey, with navy blue shutters and blackened shingles that must have leached color over time, as the walls of the house were now streaked with rivulets of black dye that made the windows look as if they were weeping mascara. Chiseled granite gargoyles rested at the corners of roof, channeling run-off through their mouths and down to the ground below where the dirt and grass was also stained black from whatever the shingles had been painted with. The whole structure looked like something out of an old black-and-white horror movie yet somehow also seemed to fit in with the surrounding neighborhood.
Raven stepped onto the porch, ignoring the CLOSED sign that hung crookedly from a rusted chain, and peered inside, hoping the proprietor was about and just hadn’t unlocked the door yet. Everything was dark within the building, and the quiet made her skin crawl.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” Levac asked, looking up at the house. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“It’s just a house. It can’t hurt you.” Raven rapped on the glass with a knuckle.
Levac frowned and stepped back, craning his neck to see the tower that jutted from the side of the house. “Obviously you don’t read horror novels,” he retorted, “or you wouldn’t speak such rubbish. Houses can be evil, possessed and full of poltergeists or creatures from other worlds. You should broaden your horizons.”
Raven rolled her eyes and knocked again, this time louder. “Trust me, of the things that go bump in the night, this house isn’t in the top fifty. Read some of my old case files if you don’t believe me.”
Levac was about to reply when the door was suddenly jerked open. The quick motion made Levac jump and he almost drew his weapon before he realized what had happened.
A short woman with wild black hair stood inside the doorway, watching them like a cat watches a fish swimming in a bowl. She was deathly pale with lips so white they almost matched her skin. When she saw them watching her, she smiled widely, showing a mouth full of perfect, porcelain-white teeth and asked, “What can I do for you? I don’t open for another hour yet.”
While Levac tried to gather his nerves, Raven produced her badge and replied, “Good morning, ma’am. My name is Storm and this is my partner, Detective Levac. We were hoping to ask you a few questions about a case we’re working on. May we come in?”
The woman examined Raven’s credentials for a moment before flashing her quick smile again and stepping aside, holding the door wide. “Of course, come in, come in, do! I was just putting the tea on."
The woman ushered the two detectives into the store, which made good use of the large front porch area. Wooden shelves had been built into the walls to hold a selection of antique books and a variety of crystals and geodes, many with small signs indicating what magical properties they were supposed to possess. There was also a low counter with an old-fashioned, bronze cash register sitting at one end. Inside the counter’s glass case were several human skulls in varying sizes ranging from what Raven was certain belonged to a child to that of a large male.
Levac peered at the skulls in the case. “Are those real?”
“Of course they are, detective,” the woman replied. “A friend of mine at the Bone Room in San Francisco sends them to me when she can’t sell them in her own store.”
Levac continued to stare at the skulls, tapping on the case like he thought they were going to come back to life. “What do you do with human skulls?”
The woman leered and looked into the case with Levac, her hand on his back. “You'd be surprised, detective: spells, white magic, decorating. Everything is a treasure to someone. Come, let me get you some tea and you can ask your questions,” she said. The woman guided the two detectives through the front door of the house into a dark foyer that led through what had once been a grand hallway but, like the porch, had been converted into more storefront. Books, crystals, wands, and other items Raven didn’t want to identify sat on every available surface. All of the doors leading out were closed, and the woman used a large metal key from her pocket to open a side door.
“Please, have a seat in here and I’ll bring tea and biscuits in a moment,” she said, flashing her white teeth in a grin.
“Thank you,” Raven said, motioning for Levac to enter and then following him into the room. Something about their hostess was getting on her nerves.
The large room they found themselves in overlooked the small front yard and cobbled walkway beyond. Bookshelves heavy with antique tomes lined the walls and two bulky red velvet couches sat in the middle of the room beneath a large candle-filled chandelier made from tarnished iron.
Levac took a seat on the closest of the sofas and Raven sat next to him, whispering, “Don’t try the tea or biscuits.”
“What? Why?” Levac asked.
Raven shrugged. “Trust me. You were right about this house; my weird-shit meter just went off the chart. Don’t try anything she offers, especially anything made of meat.”
Levac nodded and turned his attention to the books lining the shelves. “Libris Mortis? Malleus Maleficarum? What kind of book titles are these?”
“Latin,” Raven replied, not looking up. “Book of the Dead and Witch’s Hammer are the titles of the ones you just read.”
Levac turned and looked back at Raven, his lips pursed. “How do you know these things?”
Raven shrugged and glanced towards the hallway, where the sound of squeaking wheels could be heard, growing louder as their hostess approached with the promised tea and biscuits. “Like you said, I get all the weird ones,” was her simple reply. “The clerk’s coming back.”
Th
e woman entered a moment later with a teacart laden with an antique teapot, three china cups and a bone-colored plate overloaded with cookies and what Raven assumed were small meat pies of some kind. The woman placed the cart between the two small sofas, poured the tea and took a seat opposite the detectives, her wide smile still intact.
“Please,” she said, “help yourselves. The pork pies are particularly good, if I do say so myself. They come from an old English recipe.”
Raven ignored the offer and gently pushed the cart away so she could see the woman more clearly. “Thank you again for your time, Miss…?”
The woman glanced at the cart with a hint of disappointment. “Oh, you can call me Maggie. Maggie Cooke, with an E.”
“Maggie, short for Margaret?” Levac patted his pockets and fished out his notebook Columbo-style.
Maggie smiled and nodded at Levac, her pale eyes seeming to twinkle even in the dim light that filtered in through the nearby windows. “Yes, named after my grand-mama. Please do try the pies, Detective Levac,” she said. “They are quite delicious.”
“Maggie, we were curious about some candles we found at a crime scene. They were made with black tallow, and our forensic report indicates they’re a combination of rendered pig fat and beef, tinted black. I noticed some similar candles on your shelves; can you tell us if you sold any within the last few days?” Raven asked, dividing her time between Maggie and Levac, who sat drooling, mesmerized by the meat pie that was sitting on the tray just out of his reach.
“Oh, the black candles are quite popular,” Maggie replied, “though most people prefer the licorice-scented wax over the tallow. In fact, I only sell a few of the actual tallow and it was a surprise when I sold a dozen or so a few days ago to a tall man who quite enjoyed my pies.”
Raven kicked Levac’s ankle with the pointed toe of her shoe, jolting him out of his daze, and asked, “Do you remember the purchaser’s name?’
“Oh, the man paid in cash,” Maggie replied. “I don’t keep records of those transactions, other than the register receipt.”
Raven nodded and flipped through the file she had brought, which contained a photo of Tobias Boone in all his mullet-haired glory. “Was this the man?”
Maggie looked at the photo and shook her head.
“No…no, the man who bought the candles was older and much more attractive. He was much better dressed, too. In a suit and tie, not a jacket and jeans. Definitely not this man.”
“Would you be willing to work with a sketch artist and provide us with a drawing?” Levac asked.
Maggie smiled again, a look that was starting to get on Raven’s nerves. “Of course, detective. Can you send one right over?”
“I'm sure we can…” Levac started to say, but was interrupted by Raven’s hand on his leg.
“I think it would be better if you came down to the station later this afternoon,” she said. “As soon as you can.”
Maggie glanced again at Raven and looked disappointed. “Are you certain? It would be much more convenient for them to come to me. I prefer my little home to the city center.”
Raven shot Levac a warning look and said, “Yes, I’m certain. It’ll be better for everyone if you come down to the station later. And leave the pies here.”
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but saw the look on Raven’s face and seemed to think better of it. Instead she asked, “Is there a particular person I should speak to?”
Levac pulled a rumpled business card from his pocket and handed it to Maggie. “That’s our office. You can ask for Lieutenant Frost; he’ll get you squared away with one of the sketch artists we use. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Maggie replied. “Is there anything else I can do for you this morning? Maybe a quick bite before you go? The pies really are to die for!”
“No, thank you, Ms. Cooke,” Raven said firmly. “We have another appointment this morning and can’t be late. Thank you for your time.”
She and Levac stood, with Levac pausing to shake Maggie’s hand before they headed towards the door, Maggie dogging their heels like a puppy hoping for a pet on the head. When they reached the exit, Raven turned to Levac and said, “Can you meet me at the car? I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Levac shrugged and continued out to the car, leaving Raven alone with Maggie. Once Levac was outside, Raven turned to the smaller woman, her eyes taking on a feral glow in the gloom of the hallway.
“Listen to me, ghoul,” she said, her voice dripping with menace. “If I catch you peddling any more human meat pies no one will ever find your rotting corpse, is that clear? I'll bury what’s left of you in the deepest hole I can find!”
Maggie looked surprised and stepped back, holding her hands out in a gesture of innocence. “Whatever do you mean, detective?” she whined. “My pies are made from wholesome, all-natural ingredients including pork and bacon.”
Raven growled low in her throat and grabbed the ghoul by the throat, her nails extending into claws that just pierced the ghoul’s skin. “I could smell the cooked flesh when we came through the door!” she snarled. “How dare you try to serve your disgusting wares in this city? Killing humans is forbidden under Court law. Do you want me to tell the Mistress what you’re doing here?”
“No…please, no!” Maggie sagged in Raven's grip. “She will kill me!”
Raven tightened her grip “No more, ghoul! Get to the police station, you do your duty and you close up your meat pie business. From now on you sell what you appear to sell, or I’ll put you in the ground and feed you to the worms, is that clear?”
Unable to speak with Raven’s hand on her throat, Maggie managed a weak nod, her eyes bulging in their sockets.
Raven dropped the ghoul and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, they were human again. She smiled at the ghoul and said, “Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Cooke.”
“You…you’re welcome,” the ghoul gasped and rubbed her throat.
Outside, Raven found Levac leaning up against the Shelby, staring at his shoes. He looked up when Raven approached and asked, “So what was all that about? Those daggers you call shoes bruised the hell out of my ankle!”
Raven shrugged and walked past Levac to the driver’s side of the car. “I could smell that the meat she was selling was bad. I didn’t want you to get sick or anything. When I had a chance, I told her she needed to throw them away before she gave someone food poisoning.”
“Food poisoning? From a cookie?” Levac asked, sliding into to the car, being careful to knock the mud off his shoes.
“You never know,” Raven replied. “And I already have one partner in the hospital. Don’t need two.”
“Thanks, Storm,” Levac said a soft smile. “Nice to know I'm wanted.”
“Well, you’re all I have left,” Raven said with a straight face.
Levac frowned and gave Raven a sidelong look. “That’s not very reassuring."
IV
The two detectives stopped for coffee en route to the marina, with Raven parking the Shelby in front of the small bakery that Levac had insisted they stop at, claiming they had the “best Boston cream donuts in the city”. Raven was lingering over a cup of hot Earl Grey tea and listening to Levac banter with the attractive clerk when she noticed a black van sitting across the street in the alley next to Chicago Central Bank. Strangely, there seemed to be a lot of customers at the small counters provided for their use, all with their heads bowed, filling out forms.
“Levac?” Raven asked, sipping her tea. “What do you make of the van across the street?”
Levac turned away from the clerk and looked out the window. “Van? What van?”
“The black one outside the bank.” Raven set down her tea and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going? It’s just a delivery van!”
“Bad guys doing bad things,” Raven said. “Women’s intuition.”
Raven hurried across the street and entered the ba
nk as if she were just another customer. She was just through the door when she was grabbed from behind by a black-masked gunman who had been lurking out of sight between two of the bank’s actual customers.
“Cell phone, wallet and jewelry, lady, then join the others by the window!” the man growled in her ear.
“I’m sorry, I came to make a withdrawal, not a deposit.” Raven pistoned her left elbow into the gunman’s stomach. When his grip loosened, she spun, backhanding the man with a closed fist that sent him sprawling to the floor. She ended the motion with her Automag drawn and aimed at a suspect behind the counter.
“Chicago Police,” she yelled. “You are all under arrest! Put your guns down and your hands on your heads!”
By way of answer, one of the robbers appeared around the corner from a hallway that led deeper into the bank and fired his shotgun from the hip, annihilating the potted plant where Raven had been standing a millisecond before.
On the ground, Raven rolled and fired, a single round from her pistol punching through the thief’s chest.
Raven hardly noticed the robber crumpling to the floor. She was already on her feet and moving for the gunman behind the counter. He fired a shot that went wide, blowing a large hole in the counter. Raven responded in kind, her shot finding its mark and sending him tumbling backward through the glass window and into the manager’s office, where he sagged against the desk.
As the last of the gunmen collapsed to the ground, Raven heard the van’s tires squeal. She looked out the windows and saw the vehicle accelerating around the corner, trying to flee the scene. Raven followed the van’s path with the Automag until she had a clear shot. When the van entered the main street, she calmly squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession. The first shot shattered the window and pinged off the van’s side. The second shot punched through the van’s side and hit the engine, causing the vehicle to spin out and roll onto its side a few feet away from Levac, who was only now approaching with his gun drawn.
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