Hashtag Murder

by brett hicks

  “So, did you girls discover anything new in yer investigation?”

  Granny asked me, leaning in conspiratorially. Sorcha tensed slightly, because she knew we could not share garda information with a civiy, even my sweet and kooky gran.

  “Gran, you can’t just pump us for information in a murder! You know better!”

  I promptly scolded her mildly, and Sorcha looked somewhat relieved to know I was not shooting my gob off about police matters at home.

  “It was all over the news last night. That social-what’s-it killer is all people are talking about.”

  Granny said in her most innocent tone. She flipped the pancakes one after another. In the furthest skillet sizzling sausage enticed my nose with its succulent aroma. Sorcha was sipping steadily on her cup of coffee, her hangover far from gone. I hopped up, and I paced over to the cabinet and fished out the aspirin.

  “Do these work fer your lot?” I asked quietly, and she quirked a questioning brow as she read the label. She nodded and gave me a thankful smile.

  “Nature fae are not all that different from any other earth born species biologically. Almost all humanoid sups share a great deal in common with mortals. I suppose it is understandable that you do not know this.”

  She said like an elder sibling instructing a younger one.

  “Tell me dear, what is your stance on changelings, and do they still steal human babies?”

  Granny asked her, and Sorcha huffed a great breath and rolled her eyes.

  “Changelings are a bloody myth created by fearful landlords and barons from the antiquity. They concocted stories about child abduction, in order to have us driven off their lands. What they wanted, was to run us off in a hurry, so they could profit off our timeless treasures. My people were not cruel, they were protectors, defenders of all that is earth born. As one of the elder races of this planet, it fell to us to defend the lands anytime other powerful species breached the world.”

  Sorcha told us, and granny seemed to think deeply about this information. Granny had been blaming fairies for pretty much everything, down to lost knickers over the years.

  “It sounds like your court was impressive. I would have loved to have seen it.”

  I said it delicately, and I could see Sorcha’s wistful gaze looking back to a time long gone. I knew that she was all alone now, and she had nothing but her recollection to keep the nature fae alive.

  “What about puka, do they trick unwitting humans into riding them?”

  Granny quizzed her, and Sorcha nodded in confirmation.

  “They are a type of fae born of the summer court. They have a direct comparable opposite that is also born in the winter court. They are pranksters, but they can leave mortals crippled or injured from their random violent pranks. I am often responsible for dealing out justice here in Dublin, when a stray trickster goes rogue and injures a mortal.”

  “Why you?”

  I asked quizzically, and Sorcha sighed in a tired sounding tone. She rubbed her temples trying to ease the pain of her throbbing head.

  “Because I am alone. I have no side and I have no politics. If I am the judge, jury, and sentence, then no one can claim fae politics were at work.”

  Granny came over and sat two large plates of hotcakes and sausages before us. Then she moved back and returned with her own plate and the syrup. We dug in like a small pack of ravenous shifters, those lots can put back food!

  “How are we going to track down the supernatural leads today, when my deal with Ernie prevents me from telling Jimmy what I am?”

  I asked, the question popping out of my head, because it had been circling my mind, taunting me all night and all morning. Sorcha looked up from her delicious breakfast long enough to dab her lips with her napkin in a regal manner. You would never believe she was hung over, or that she was wearing my clothes. She looked like she could have been seated on a gilded throne for her morning breakfast.

  “I propose a two-pronged approach to the investigation. You work the who, and how with Jimmy, while I drum up some information on potential nutty shadow-aligned folk. Besides, I have some reputation in the community with which to trade on. The shadow-lot are not likely to talk to an outsider like yerself.”

  Sorcha explained to me, and I ground my teeth in frustration.

  “Tracking down the “human” side of this is like playing whack-a-mole! Whoever this perp is, he is clever at slipping by undetected. Which means, I am in for a lot of re-interviews with the whole of Dublin’s fancy arse crowd. Bunch of pretentious snots and lascivious bastards, the lot of them! Besides, they are all trying to hide something, even if it is a sniff habit or an illicit affair.”

  Sorcha smirked lazily and swished her finger through the air with a piece of sausage lanced onto her fork.

  “But, that’s the joy of the job. We get to sift through all the sorted laundry of all our suspects. We figure out who is merely hiding a cocaine addiction, and who is hiding a bloody knife after a murder at the Samhain ball.”

  Sorcha moaned loudly as she bit into the sausage and she gave my gran a big thumbs up of approval. Despite their differences, I would say their introduction went off brilliantly! Now we just had a murder to solve and a killer to arrest. It left me wondering where we might put a shadowy powered magiks sup, but I hoped Sorcha already had such an answer.

  Nineteen:

  After breakfast we took my car back to the pub, so Sorcha could collect her own car. She wiggled her wingers to me in parting, and we both headed off to work. It was nice, even if also strange, to have a friend over. I have not taken the piss with anyone in forever.

  Jimmy was waiting for me, furrowed brow and arms crossed over his thickly muscled chest. I took a moment to objectify my partner’s muscular form, thoroughly enjoying the way his muscles moved under his shirt. So, sue me, men don’t have a bloody monopoly on physical appreciation.

  “Let’s get to it Avery. No more mucking about, we have leads to run down.”

  Jimmy sounded terse, even for him, which told me he was still upset with me over how much time I was spending with Sorcha, despite him being my partner.

  “Cheers let’s crack on then. Dose the boss need me to pop in or can we head out?”

  Jimmy slowly shook his head.

  “I’ve already touched base with him for the morning. He is up to speed on our progress, such as it is. He is expecting us to get more results today, so I need my PARTNER present. No more fobbing off with your new girlfriend.”

  I locked eyes with him. It was not wise to challenge and alpha-male, but I was always one for the high-jump, because I never could keep my head down.

  “Why detective, are you jealous much? Something about my budding friendship bothering you? I hope you don’t expect me to shut up, make the tea and serve you a cuppa. I am a detective garda, same as you.”

  I felt several of my tattoos swirl in response. My magiks were closer to the surface now, and I was coiled up like a short female ready to strike her much larger male colleague. Jimmy was not daft; he noticed my posture. I could see how it inflamed his innate masculine sense of challenge, or fight-or-flight. I was letting him know that he could not push me round. That I was a bad bitch, and I would fight.

  I could see the conflicting emotions surging through him. He could not figure out if he wanted to fuck me or kill me. This was not an uncommon mix with dominant males around me.

  “It just feels like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and you never gave me a single chance to be your partner.”

  Jimmy said through grit teeth. I felt his chilly night-air aura all around us now. The beast within was most clearly not amused with me. I sighedcandcleaned in slightly and muttered lowly.

  “Well, what do you expect, when I almost shag you one night, then I have to work closely with you the next?!”

  Jimmy looked down and away, he had been no better at answering this question than I had. His shoulders sagged, and he expelled a breath and with it a lot of his threatening mag
iks dispersed instantly. He had subdued whatever monstrous power lay dormant inside him.

  “Too right…”

  He conceded to me, and he leaned back onto his desk and pinned me in place with his eyes.

  “I propose we forget about the past and just get a fresh take, yeah? I don’t want to be at odds; besides, you appear to be a fairly competent detective. I’d really prefer to be on the same page, yeah?”

  I arched a brow in question.

  “Fairly competent?” I asked in a deadpan tone, and he snorted at me, and he ruffled my hair suddenly, breaking my irritable glare.

  “Come on, let’s go catch some baddies now.”

  He said, a thrill of joy and play touching his tone now. I rolled my eyes and gave him a half-shrug.

  “Lead on then.”

  I said, most of my tension dissolved and I decided that it was worth the effort to salvage this partnership. I didn’t really have any logical reason to stay so combative with Jimmy. I knew that part of it was me holding him at a distance, since I was scared about how he would treat me once he knew I was a sup. Whatever he was, he was a dominant and powerful being of his species. I didn’t know what to expect, and I was not very good at handling the unknown, except to kill it very dead.

  “So, where are we on the CCTV? Any viable leads or any positive identifiable shots of our purp?”

  I asked Jimmy, and he eyes told me a resounding no, long before the words left his lips.

  “Not even close, and the footage scrambled right at the time of the murder. Almost as if, by magic.”

  He said, and his fingers spread in a theatrical puff gesture. I kept my expression carefully neutral as he did this. I realized he was testing me, not just winding me up.

  “So, which do you like for this, the wicked witch or the wizard?” I asked in a sassy tone. His eyes danced in amusement.

  “Might as well put a BOLO out on the tin man and the little dog too, eh?”

  Jimmy shot back, and I chuckled at his lame humor, despite how cheesy it was. It was almost as if someone had hit the reset button on us, and we were suddenly acting a lot more partner-like. I did not give it any thought, since over thinking things had nearly made me push Jimmy out into the arctic once already. I might have a deal with Ernie, but I would not treat Jimmy like garbage.

  “Our first order of business this morning is to collect CCTV footage along the path of the purp’s escape from the hotel. We will talk to local businesses and petrol stations in the area. We’re short for leads now, hopefully something will come of our leg work.”

  Jimmy sounded less than convinced that we would be that lucky. I agreed, considering the supernatural blackout around the crime. This perp would likely need to be caught by supernatural methods, then by mortal procedure. I just hoped that we might sniff out a trail while investigating the regular angles they expected us to.

  “Did the coroner discover any fibers or DNA on the victim?”

  I asked, and Jimmy exhaled a sharp breath.

  “Yes, but it is inconclusive. Something about it being contaminated or polluted, some such rubbish. However, we might get a partial match to the genetic markers, if we got a purer sample of the culprit’s DNA.”

  “Bugger well let’s get to it. Sounds like we have a lot of work to do. We can also keep a lookout on your witch and wizard, while we do real police work, eh?”

  I sassed at Jimmy, who chuckled to himself, as he led the way back out of the detective floor. I noticed that the surrounding shifters all acted very cagey around him. He was not like them, yet he was something that held sway over them.

  ***

  We drove south into the heart of Dublin proper. Our turf extended to the very far reaches of Dublin’s outermost north. We crossed the Liffey River that ran through the city. As we rode Merrion Street Upper, and we turned into the parking lot in front of the still deserted hotel, I noted the massive government buildings on the right-hand side.

  “I don’t reckon he is dim enough to have ran towards the Ministry of Finance. Their CCTV coverage is spot on. From the fragments I could make out, it appeared like he was fleeing south.”

  I told Jimmy, who seemed to think for a moment.

  “Maybe we should check out Merrion Row and Baggott Lower first?”

  I nodded in agreement and kept trying to recall what I could of the footage. Most of the cameras were barely functioning as the dark mass that made up a tall perp, fled the hotel.

  We walked south, and as we hit the next intersection, we came to Reilly’s Bar, on the right corner.

  “Figures the first stop would be a pub.”

  I said in a sassy tone, and Jimmy snorted and jokingly put in, “What did ye expect? This is Dublin.”

  I could only roll my eyes to that, since it was true. Patties were all about their gin joints, and local watering holes.

  We walked into Reilly’s a healthy crowd had already formed in the bar, despite the early hour. The bar man gave us a single glance of inspection.

  “What’ll it be?”

  Jimmy flipped his leather bond badge open discreetly, and I fished mine out a moment later. You could see the large aging man’s expression change instantaneously. He was suddenly cagey and guarded.

  “Just a bit of information, and a couple of soft pints for the road.”

  Jimmy slid what appeared to be fifty Euros on the bar discreetly. The bar man promptly took the massive tip, before anyone could get a good look at the bill size.

  “Alright, just don’t want no trouble from your lot. I run a respectable establishment. Don’t need the boys in blue sniffing round me knicker bin, yeah?”

  Jimmy nodded in understanding.

  “We are from Ballymun Station. I’m Detective Garda Jimmy McDonnell and this is Detective Garda Avery Parker.”

  “Ballymun, what’re coppers from that fecking kip doing down here?!”

  The bartender cut in abruptly, and several of the nearby patrons sniggered at his joke. Ballymun was a very ill-reputable place to live. Even the locals here knew that, despite being pissed this early in the morning.

  “Well, our station, along with all the others in Dublin, are on this particular case.”

  Jimmy put in, and I sighed, and waited for Jimmy to stop speaking.

  “Look, we just want to know if you saw any especially odd ducks come past here at the time of the murder. This is your bar, is it not? Am I correct in assuming you are in it if it is open for business?”

  The bar man puffed his chest up in pride and nodded.

  “Aye, lass, this is my bar. And I didn’t see a fecking thing. That’s the truth of it, I might not be no snitch, but ain’t nobody gonna cover fer what that bastard did to that poor girl. God rest her soul.”

  He finished pouring the two pints, and he thumped them down in front of us. I looked at Jimmy, who nodded encouragingly.

  When in Rome?

  I thought to myself, and I took a long sip. The draft was mild, barely had the kick of typical Irish draft beer to it. These were probably the weakest beers this man served, and more than likely one he would serve to the young lads to keep them from pissing themselves.

  “That’s not too bad.”

  Jimmy said in a cheerful tone. I recognized the attempt to build up a rapport with locals, but I was not exactly certain I enjoyed being seen drinking on the job. Even if I knew it would take about twenty of these to get me off my head.

  “Old man’s right, me and the lads were in here, Detective. Won’t no random blokes making a fuss. The pub was crawling with all sorts, but none we did not recognize as a local. Not sure if that helps at all, but thought I would say my bit, cause of what that fecker did to that poor girl.”

  One of the younger college age lads said, Jimmy nodded, and clapped the lad on the back. He turned up his pint, draining the glass in a single go.

  “I’m sure her family appreciates your candor mate. Good day to ye all, and don’t be afraid to ring the Garda Station, if ye remember anything else.
”

  Jimmy told them, and we walked out, back to piece together the movements of a lone killer.

  Twenty:

  We went across the street and talked with the manager of the Pearl Brasserie, A five-star French restaurant across from the pub. We were trying to check to see if their account of the time lined up with the lads from the pub.

  We left with witness statements from folks who had been on shift at the time, and a copy of their CCTV footage for all the cameras around the restaurant.

  “Why didn’t you ask for footage from the pub owner?”

  I asked, and he gave me an incredulous look.

  “That bloke would’ve given us a blank or claimed the lot was on the fritz. No pub owner with half a brain will hand over video of their establishment to the Guards. Besides, I am fairly sure that lad was being honest. You build up some trust, and then you let them slip what they will let loose to ye. That is the constant juggling act of being a detective in a city like ours.”

  I nodded and conceded his point. Jimmy had a lot of experience, and I was green at this detective gig. I knew I could learn a lot from him.

  “Why do they hate us so much?”

  I asked sincerely and Jimmy gave me a strange look and sighed.

  “Been a lot of bad coppers over the years. Those on the take, and those demanding cash to look the other way. All sorts, so now all of us trying to toe the line properly, have to deal with all the backlash those sods have brought on us all. There is an old saying, the police force is the biggest bloody mob of them all. Now, the boss and I don’t agree, because we run a clean bloody station house. Even your posh mate Sorcha, she doesn’t have no love for dirty coppers either.”

  I nodded and sipped on a take-away cup of coffee I had ordered before leaving the restaurant. The manager had given me a disgusting glare when I asked for a coffee-to-go.

  “Sounds a lot like the wild west, by all accounts. Is it really still that bad?”

  I asked earnestly, and Jimmy seemed to think about it for a long moment.

  “Aye, it can be, in some places, but just means we have to dig in our heels and say, ‘not a step further.’”