《Diamond in the Rough》


 Chapter One: The Call

    The name is Diamond. Detective Jack Diamond.


    Yeah, Mom was not too bright, while Dad loved the cards and hated me for forcing him to end his days as a single man.


    Last week I was promoted to Detective in the Homicide Division of the Metropolitan Police Force.


    On this day, I received a call that would lead toy first and last case as an official member of the police.


    Patrol had noticed a door broken open and upon investigating, found a bit more than they had expected in the back room of a restaurant just off of Main Street.


    They discovered a murder.


    My partner had arrived ahead of me, just long enough to light up a cigarette and take a long drag before I arrived. He saw me, sighed, and put it out against a wall. ¡°Hey, Jack,¡± he greeted in his gravelly voice, ¡°They say we caught a bad one. Steel yourself, kid.¡±


    Detective Sergeant Milton ¡°Milt¡± Cranmore was a thirty year veteran of the force, who had been a Marine much of the decade before that and was about five years short of mandatory retirement. His gray beard concealed more than a few scars from his youth, and the fedora he wore helped conceal the fact that the gray hair on his head was mostly from a toupee.


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied. ¡°I heard one of the uniforms lost his breakfast. Probably do him some good.¡±


    Milt barked out a laugh, straightened his coat, and led the way in.


    The sight was pretty awful - if I had to guess, I would wager that the victim, or, as we call it ¡°vic,¡± was staying behind to clean up the kitchen when someone as yet unknown, whom we called an ¡°unsub¡± for ¡°unidentified subject,¡± broke in and redecorated with some internal organs, most of all from the Vic. The uniforms were busy taking pictures, lots and lots of pictures. ¡°I want a full set of eight by ten glossies,¡± I said to one in passing. He glared at me for a moment then resumed his work.


    ¡°You seeing what I am, kid?¡± Milt asked.


    ¡°Not sure,¡± I answered, ¡°If you mean ¡®do I think there seems to be some sort of pattern in how things were spread out,¡¯ then yeah, I am.¡±


    ¡°You are. Cannot put a finger on it but there is definitely something to the, ah, placement. Well, let¡¯s go meet our vic, shall we?¡±


    ¡°After you,¡± I replied.


    We walked around the island in the center of the kitchen towards the back where the beat cops had found our victim. We heard a commotion from the front of the restaurant, and exchanged glances. ¡°I¡¯ll take a peek at the body then go check on that,¡± I offered.


    ¡°Good thinking, kid. Ugh what a mess.¡±


    He saw the body before I did and stepped aside so I could take in the full, gory picture.


    The vic was definitely female, despite the systematic dismantling of the body performed to redecorate the room. Oddly enough, despite the massive damage to the body, the head was amazingly pristine. I took a step closer.


    ¡°Damn. Milt,¡± I said, bitterly, ¡°there is no need to get an ID here. I know her.¡±

 Chapter Two: I Know Her

    We had been called in to the scene of a brutal homicide. After getting a feel for the scene we had moved to view the body and I felt a bit of a jolt - she was definitely not as pretty as she had been the last time I saw her, some seven years prior, but I definitely recognized her, and that sickened me a bit more than the entire grotesque scene.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t keep me in suspense, kid. Who is she?¡± My partner, Milt Cranmore replied.


    The question stirred me from my reverie: ¡°Unless she married and changed her name, that''s Linda Gorman. I used to date her sister, before Carol married Vito Mercotti.¡±


    ¡°This going to make this too personal for you kid?¡± Milt asked, a little concern slipping into his normally emotionless voice.


    ¡°Sir, you taught me every murder is personal, this will not be a problem,¡± I answered. ¡°I should probably be the one to break the news to Carol, though.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but right now there seems to be something going on out front that needs your attention,¡± he said after considering my words for a second.


    I could hear the argument out there getting more heated, nodded and, as quickly as I could to not disturb our crime scene, headed out to the front of the restaurant. The guys from the Medical Examiner''s office arrived just as I got there, and I signaled for them to wait a moment. Two men, one a powerfully built guy with iron gray hair, the other a younger man with wavy black hair and a swarthy complexion were arguing with two uniformed officers stationed out front. Though I could only hear some of the argument, I knew the gist of it already and tuned out the actual words. ¡°All right people, what seems to be the problem?¡± I asked, hoping that nobody caught the ironic hitch in my voice.


    ¡°These¡­ gestapo aren''t allowing me into my kitchen!¡± Gray hair bellowed.


    The other man said something in rapid-fire Italian that I pretended to not understand, even though, growing up where I did, I spoke fluent Italian and Spanish, with a smattering of Portuguese and Polish for good measure. Besides, it seemed wise to ignore an insult to both my parentage and that of the uniformeds at the moment. ¡°Sir, your kitchen is an active crime scene. If you could take a seat, I have a few questions for you before we can let anyone, except those three from the coroner¡¯s office and the CSU team back there.¡±


    ¡°Coroner?!¡± The old man said, and then his eyes opened wide. ¡°Not Linda!¡±


    And that was when I realized I knew both men, though not well. The older man was the uncle of Linda and Carol, Lawrence Gorman. The younger man was Vito¡¯s brother Dominic. This was not going to be easy.


    ¡°When was the last time you saw Linda?¡± I asked.


    He gave a puzzled look before answering: ¡°She offered to finish cleaning up so I could go home early last night,¡± Lawrence said. Then he looked at me more closely: ¡°Jack? Jack Diamond?¡±


    ¡°Detective Diamond, yes,¡±


    ¡°It has been ages, Jackie boy! Detective? Maybe my niece picked the wrong boy after all. Can we see the body?¡±


    ¡°I''ll have to check with the CSU guys and my partner - he has seniority here. But it''s a mess. Might be able to share some of the photos first, to help steel you for it. Just sit tight, and I''l go check, OK?¡±


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    Lawrence sat down, but I was pretty sure Domenic was going to follow me, ¡°Dom,¡± I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, ¡°I know you want to see, maybe to help, but I cannot have a civilian contaminating a crime scene. I should take prints from you and Larry and take down alibis, but right now I want to give you a few minutes of calm as a courtesy. It really is that bad.¡±


    He then said something that surprised me - in Italian, he asked: ¡°Do you remember?¡±


    ¡°Enough of the language to get by,¡±¡± I replied, also in Italian.


    He gave me a weary smile. ¡°Was there a lot of blood?¡±


    I was surprised by the question and just nodded.


    He had to repeat his next statement, slowly, for me to fully understand him, but on the second pass I knew: ¡°When you catch the animals that did this, if you cannot put a bullet through their brains, call me.¡±


    He then slipped me a business card. I had several questions that I wanted to ask, but a CSU guy was trying to get my attention.


    ¡°Scuse,¡± I told Dominic, and headed over to where CSU Lyle Rafferty was waiting. ¡°The ME has cleared the scene, but you might want to show them the pics on my phone first. One thing - we know there were at least three people involved ¡°


    So, good news and bad news - we were not looking for one sick superhuman monster, but at least three sick subhuman ones. I nodded and returned to Dominic and Lawrence. ¡°OK, guys, I''ll need a list of everyone who has been in and out of this kitchen in the last week or so, and we will need to get elimination prints from all your staff and delivery people. Now I am going to show you some pictures so you can prep yourselves for the scene, but first I have to ask: do you know anyone who would particularly have an issue with Linda?¡±


    ¡°No, everybody loved her,¡± Lawrence replied.


    ¡°Maybe that one driver a bit too much,¡± Dominic added sarcastically.


    ¡°That¡¯s good - he might be worth looking into. You have a name for me?¡±


    We bantered a bit, and I showed them the photos the CSU had forwarded. Dom decided he did not need to see the scene after that, but Lawrence felt he had to, so I escorted him in while my partner and one of the techs took charge of Dominic.


    He remained silent as he examined the kitchen. When he got to the stretcher holding the bag with most or all of Linda¡¯s remains, he finally said something: ¡°This will take a few days to clean up. Will be very bad for business. Did Dom ask you to bring the culprit or culprits down, hard? Put them in bags like this one?¡± He added, tapping a corner of the one on the gurney.


    I nodded. ¡°To be honest, I kind of hope they force me to, but I have a duty to arrest them if possible¡±


    ¡°Good. On both counts. Maybe kill one or two and bring the rest in alive,¡± he muttered, more to himself. Aloud he added; ¡°May I see her?¡±


    The ME¡¯s assistant glanced at me, I gave a curt nod, and said: ¡°Sir, she''s pretty messed up. Steel yourself,¡± and reached for the zipper.


    Lawrence took a step closer and watched the zipper moved down. Saw her once pretty face, smeared with blood and twisted into a look of terror, despite the closed eyes.


    He cursed under his breath, in English, Spanish and Italian. Silently, I agreed with everything he said.


    The assistant then said: ¡°we''re pretty sure a lot of the blood on her face is not her own. We won¡¯t be certain until we get her in the lab, but think she bit one of her attackers.¡±


    I thought the same thing that Lawrence said at this, though he said it with a touch of pride, ¡°Good for her!¡±


    I heard someone come up behind me. Whirling, I found my partner standing there. ¡°Jack, I need to borrow Mister Gorman here for a bit. Unless you want to poke around here for a while, this might be a good time to handle that notification, and then meet me back at the station in, oh, an hour. Bring coffee.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Black with lots of sugar, just like your women?¡± I asked. He clapped me on the shoulder and laughed, then escorted Larry Gorman back to the front of the restaurant.


    I steeled myself for a trip into the past. What would it be like seeing her again after almost eight years?

 Chapter Three: Notifications

    Vito was clearly doing very well.  I knew he had some kind of career in finance, but had no details beyond that - however, the address I found for him and Carol was an impressive house on the edge of the city.  I wouldn''t be surprised if my entire apartment fit inside one of the bathrooms, or at least the kitchen.  I''d expected them to have staff to handle mundane tasks, like getting groceries, cooking, cleaning, wiping their backsides and answering doors, so was surprised to see Carol herself respond to my knock.  Even nearly eight years after the last time I saw her, she could still take my breath away.  She had apparently been exercising - she wore a gray leotard that left her fantastic legs (always her best feature) bare.  Her light brown hair showed hints of blonde highlights now but was tied back in a ponytail; hard to tell but it seemed shorter than I remembered. She had on little or no makeup, and her eyes seemed a bit raw, as if she had been fighting back tears.


    ¡°Jack!¡± She exclaimed, and stood there for a moment, clearly confused about something.


    ¡°Hi Carol.  I regret to inform¡­¡±


    ¡°I just got off the phone with Dominic,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I... I know about my sister.  Would you like to come in? Could throw on a pot of coffee?¡±


    I smiled sadly.  ¡°I can''t stay too long but can talk for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Vito is on his way home, maybe half an hour at most.  Sit with me until then?¡±. She asked, almost pleading.


    ¡°Of course.  Look, I hate to have to do this, but it is kind of my job.  Were you home all night last night?¡±


    She pointed at a chair she expected me to take and headed off to where I presume the kitchen was.  She froze as I asked that, and then turned to face me.  ¡°We came home from a fundraiser for Vito''s niece - she¡¯s running for city council - at about one AM.  I was exhausted and went up to bed, I guess I fell asleep almost immediately.  Woke up a bit after six and Vito was there beside me.  That''s all I know.  That help you any?¡±


    ¡°I hope so.  I hate to think either of you would be involved but my job is to cover all bases.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± she said, sadly.  ¡°Did you want that coffee?¡±


    ¡°A water would be good,¡± I answered.


    ¡°Even easier,¡± she said, walking out of the room.  From the other room she continued, ¡°I never liked having people wait on me, so we only have a cleaning staff and a chef who comes in two to three nights a week, otherwise I just ramble around this house, pretty much alone.  Despite the circumstances, it is nice seeing you again, Jack.¡±


    She returned with a mug of something in one hand, a cup of water in the other, and set the cup down on a table beside the chair I was leaning against, and then she plunked herself down on the couch beside it, sitting on top of one leg with the other still on the floor, as I remembered her doing a lot when we were younger.


    She took a sip of whatever was in the mug, and I sat down in the chair.  ¡°You don¡¯t think that Vito or I were involved¡­¡±


    ¡°All I know is a sweet kid is dead, in the messiest way I have ever seen. Beyond that, 1we''re waiting on crime lab results and interviews to start piecing things together.¡±


    She considered this, then nodded.  ¡°Well, I''m glad it was you who came to tell me and not some stranger, at least,¡± her smile was genuine, if understandably sad.


    ¡°When I recognized her, I felt I had a duty to be the one,¡± I replied.


    I found it difficult to spend time alone with her.  I wanted to take her in my arms and ¡­ well, and see where it would go from there. instead, I just sipped my water.  ¡°You seem to be doing well,¡± I managed to say.¡±


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    ¡°We are.  I have sold a few magazine articles and Vito¡¯s job pays very well.  You look good, a bit weather-beaten, but good,¡± she replied.


    I laughed.  ¡°The weather has been giving me a beating since boot camp.¡±


    We both heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, and sipped at our drinks in silence until Vito came in through the door.


    Vito Mercotti was a large man, and one even I had to admit was quite good looking - dusky complexion, thick, wavy hair, piercing dark eyes, dressed in a suit that fit tightly enough to let the observer know a mound of muscle lay beneath it.  Pretty sure he had a piece on as well, partially but not perfectly concealed in a shoulder holster, but I decided that was not my business, at least not yet.  I rose to my feet as he entered, and Carol shifted position so that both of her long legs now touched the floor.  Vito moved quickly to her side, kissed her forehead, and then turned to me. ¡°And you are?¡±


    ¡°Detective Jack Diamond,¡± I informed him.


    ¡°Diamond - we had a few classes together in high school, right?  Thought you looked familiar.¡± He replied.


    I bit my tongue to keep myself from adding "that, and we dated the same girl¡± and just nodded,


    Carol, however, was not one to leave the band-aid on a wound and said, ¡°Jack and I dated before you and I hooked up, too, dear.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that Jack - I do not think you ever mentioned his family name. What brings you here, Detective?  The mess at the restaurant?¡±


    ¡°So, you heard?  Yeah, I''m the one stuck doing notifications today.  Next up is the old man.¡±


    ¡°I assume that the old thing that used to be a Honda and is probably still barely drivable parked out there on the street is yours?¡±


    I hated to admit that that was a pretty good description of my old Civic.  ¡°Yeah?¡± I replied inquisitively.


    ¡°Give me a few minutes with my wife and I''ll drive you to where both of our dads are.  If you go there in that car, it will be hauled off as trash the moment you take your eyes off of it.¡±


    I immediately knew what part of town he was talking about and nodded sadly.  ¡°I''ill just step outside and have a smoke then,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Just make sure to put it out before you get in my car.  Secondhand smoke is worse than direct stuff,¡± he warned. I nodded and headed out to their porch.


    ¡°Despite the circumstances, it was nice seeing you again, Jack,¡± Carol called out to me.


    ¡°Same back at you, Carol,¡± I replied, and then the massive oak door shut behind me.


    I lit a match; I''m kind of old school that way.  As I did so, I noticed a large crack on one of the marble lions and let out a small chuckle.  Even the rich had cracks in the walls, so to speak.  Not as big as the cracks in the actual walls at my apartment but still¡­


    Then I noticed something on the porch, bent down, and saw what looked like almost dried blood.  There was a splotch right where I was standing and another on the walk up.  I took out two collection bags and my pocketknife and collected what I could of each, then leaned against one of the four pillars holding up the roof of their porch to finish my cigarette.  Fortunately, there was an old ashtray nearby and I tossed the butt into it just as Vito stepped out.


    ¡°You ready to beard the lions in their den?¡± He asked.


    ¡°So, both your dad and hers are together then?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If not, they will be soon.  Some kind of big meeting today.  One they won''t even tell me what it''s about until I get there.¡±


    ¡°Look, I hate to do this, but where were you between ten PM and midnight last night?¡±


    ¡°So, am I a suspect now?¡± he asked, one eyebrow cocked.


    I let out a dry laugh.  ¡°Until we get some solid leads, everyone is a suspect.  Hell, as I live only four blocks from the crime scene and my TV and the bottle of bourbon I polished off watching it last night are not very talkative, I''m a suspect.¡±


    He nodded.  ¡°After we got home from a fundraiser, I was here with Carol until Dad called at ten thirty or maybe eleven. Spent fifteen minutes getting to his house, helped him with some paperwork for an hour, and drove home to find Carol sound asleep.  Dad can back me up for most of that when we see him.  Now, come, we''re taking the Lambo.¡±


    A Lamborghini?  My, he was doing well.  I would have been almost as impressed by the Mercedes.  Or the vintage Cadillac.  I slid into the passenger¡¯s seat and it felt like I was being hugged by a high priced prostitute.  ¡°A guy could get used to this,¡± I said, putting on my seat belt.


    He smiled.  ¡°And now you know why I drive it every chance I get.  You mind if I break a few speed laws?¡± He asked.


    ¡°I promise to not even look at the speedometer unless you get into an accident,¡± I replied with a dry chuckle.


    He just nodded and then we took off like a rocket.

 Chapter Four: More Names to Keep Track Of

    Vito Mercotti navigated the moderate traffic of the high class part of town like a pro racer.  I had just stopped by his house to notify his wife of her sister¡¯s brutal murder, and he offered to take me, in his Italian sports car, to where her dad, Carmine Gorman, and his, Mauricio Mercotti were having some sort of meeting.


    I would have accepted even before I knew what car we would be taking, but it being the Lamborghini was the icing on the cake.  We pulled up to a small but beautifully appointed office building, and Vito opened the door and whistled.  A young man in a cheap gray suit ran up, took his keys, motioned for me to get out of the car, and sped off to a parking structure nearby as Vito escorted me inside the building.  There was a massive, empty lobby - by the sign on the wall, only two tenants had space here, and he sped me past before I could read either name.


    We went up a small flight of stairs and into a huge conference room.  Two men were seated at a large table, while a third stood behind and between them.  A fourth man sat nearby in a very fancy looking wheelchair.  I knew the two seated men on sight - Mauricio Mercotti with his silver hair and his left eye a mass of scar tissue from his days growing up in a rough part of Sicily.  He wore a perfectly tailored burgundy suit from some famous designer or another.  Seated next to him, the nearly bald gentleman in the pin stripe suit that he probably bought from Sears or K-Mart when they still existed, was the father of Linda and Carol Gorman, Carmine.  His thin features always reminded me of a vulture.


    The man behind them had to be Daniel Carver, Mauricio¡¯s chief of security.  The guy had a lot of electronics on his person and nearly as many concealed weapons, but, from his build and his stance, the odds that he ever used any of those weapons outside of a practice range were slim to none, despite having an allegedly high body count to his name.  I felt I should recognize the white haired, portly gentleman in the wheelchair but my mind was drawing a blank.


    Vito came to the rescue: ¡°You already know dad and Mister Gorman, right, Jack?  This is Morgan Price.  Morgan, this is Detective Diamond,¡± he said to the man in the wheelchair.


    Morgan extended a slightly shaky right hand, and said ¡°Detective Jack ¡­ you are not Bill¡¯s kid are you?¡±


    I accepted his hand - his grip was firm despite his unsteadiness.  Cold but firm.  ¡°Only known son of William and Mallory Diamond, that is me.¡± I replied.


    He chuckled at that. ¡°Fitting; I knew Bill, he did tend to sow his wild oats.  As far as I know Mallory never even looked at another man until he died, though.¡±


    Morgan Price owned an antique shop in the higher class end of town but made most of his income from a series of pawn shops in the cheaper parts of the city.  My TV came from one of them, as did my microwave.


    ¡°Is Detective Diamond here about the, ah, disturbance at the restaurant?¡± Mauricio asked.  His voice was deep but a little thready.


    ¡°Yes, We found a corpse there,¡±


    There was a moment of silence around the room.  Guess I know how to make a shocking revelation?


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    Then, Gorman asked: ¡°Were you able to identify the body?¡±


    I hesitated for a second and then decided blunt honesty was the best bet: ¡°the actual body was a mess, but the head was almost entirely intact, almost like the killer wanted us to ID the vic,¡± I replied, and a very nasty thought crept into my head.


    ¡°Well who was it?¡± Price spoke for all the others in the room.


    I looked straight at Carmine and said: ¡°Your youngest daughter, Linda.¡±


    He looked as if I had just slapped him.  Oddly, nobody else in the room reacted immediately, though Mauricio stood up, walked over to him and placed a comforting hand on Carmine¡¯s shoulder.  I did not expect the bodyguard to react and Dom already knew but Price seemed almost bored by the news.  Interesting.  ¡°Look, I just remembered something I need to check with my partner on.  Give me a minute and then I can answer whatever questions you might have and that I am allowed to.¡±


    Mauricio spoke up:¡±By all means, and thank you for letting us know.¡±


    I stepped out of the room and dialed Milt¡¯s cell.  He picked up on the third ring.  ¡°Hey, partner, I just had a nasty thought - given the state of the rest, the head seemed too perfect.  Have we tested the parts to make sure we only have one corpse we are dealing with?¡±


    ¡°I thought of that about five minutes ago and was walking down to the Medical Examiner¡¯s office to ask in person.  There right now.  You want me to put it on speaker?¡±


    I heard ¡°Hey Karen,¡± and tried not to groan.  Paul Ellis is our usual examiner but his assistant, Karen Grant takes over when he¡¯s out of town or at a conference or whatever it is that medical examiners do when they are not examining things medically.  She may be a better doctor than Paul, truth be told, but when she is on duty, Milt spends more time flirting with her than he does investigating the case.  Noth that I can blame him.  If the smell of medical examiner chemicals did not cling to her outside of the office, I might consider hitting on her just for those legs that did not seem to stop.  Not sure how she could wear short skirts in that refrigerated lab, but I was not going to complain one bit.


    ¡°Hey Milton,¡± I heard her velvety voice say.  ¡°Was just getting to your present.  Want to help me unwrap it?¡±


    It was bad enough when she played dumb; this time she was playing along. Very annoying.  First, it was unprofessional.  Second, it had been two years since I had last been with a woman that I was not about to arrest for something or other or pay for something I should arrest her for.


    I heard the body bag unzip - at least I hoped that was what was unzipping, as they were both oddly silent.  ¡°Wow, that is a mess,¡± Karen said after a brief pause.  I was still unsure if they were discussing the contents of the body bag or something else¡­


    There were some unpleasant noises and then Karen¡¯s voice: ¡°did the victim have an unusual number of fingers, because I am seeing eleven¡­¡±


    ¡°No.  Well, unless she grew one in the last six years,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh, Hi, Jack!  You knew her?¡± How someone could sound so chipper with that mess on the table before them was a mystery I had no desire to solve.


    ¡°Yeah Doctor Grant.  I dated her sister for a while,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Need to do some testing but my guess is that she bit a finger off of an attacker.¡±


    ¡°An attacker?  You suspect more than one?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah, at least two, maybe more if we do not find evidence of power tools.  Damage is too much, unless we are looking at some kind of super human killer,¡± she replied.


    ¡°Well, I should get back to the family. Keep me in the loop, okay?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Sure thing, partner,¡± Milton replied and the line went dead.

 Chapter Five: It Gets Complicated

    I hung up the phone and was about to return it to my pocket when it rang again. I was shocked at the name that came up: ¡°Hi, Commissioner Whelan. Detective Diamond speaking.¡±


    ¡°Diamond, I hear you were harassing a Mercotti, even accusing him of being involved with a murder?¡±


    ¡°Sir, I asked routine questions in the hopes of ruling¡­¡±


    ¡°You have ruled him out, or you will rule yourself out of a job. Am I clear?¡±


    ¡°Sir? Yes but¡­¡±


    ¡°If I am clear here, then we are done. If I am not, you may very well be. Understand?¡±


    For once I bit back what I wanted to say and said: ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Instead. I could HEAR his satisfied nod as he hung up.


    I called Milton. Took him six rings to pick up, so either he was getting lucky with the good Doctor or had been shot down and started drinking early. ¡°Jack? We just talked. What¡¯s up?¡±


    I answered: ¡°Just had an angry call from the Commish. Does not want me bugging the Mercotti¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Really? He had your number?¡± Milt said, a little surprised.


    ¡°Gave it to both Vito and Carol. Was about to pass out cards to the rest of them, when I thought to ask you about the bodies.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Only time I ever saw him interrupt an investigation was when his wife was implicated in a fraud case,¡± Milt mused; ¡°Tread carefully, partner. I can retire comfortably at any time, but you are just getting started. Oh, and there are definitely parts of two bodies, one male, one female. But only one head.¡±


    ¡°This is getting disgusting,¡± I replied. ¡°Think we need to go back to the restaurant and make sure no possible evidence went missing.¡±


    ¡°I can be there in about fifteen minutes. I¡¯ll verify that the Uniforms are keeping the scene under control first.¡±


    ¡°Good. I am about twenty out. See you soon,¡± I replied and hung up. I took a breath and headed to the board room. As I crossed the threshold, my phone rang again. I sighed and answered without checking the number. ¡°Problem, kid,¡± I heard Milton say breathlessly. ¡°I was just told the uniforms were told to leave right after we vacated the scene. Things are going south fast.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± I replied. ¡°Will try to speed things up,¡± I added and hung up, swearing under my breath.


    I needed a teleporter and a drink. Sadly, neither was in evidence and at least one probably did not exist.


    Vito had been watching me and took out his phone. I stepped into the room: ¡°Well, gentlemen, I have to call this short. Something came up and¡­¡±


    ¡°There should be a cab waiting outside to take you back to your car, Detective Diamond,¡± Vito informed me. ¡°I have things to take care of here or I would drive you back myself. Cab is prepaid.¡±


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    I was surprised by his generosity - and half suspected an ulterior motive., ¡°Thank you sir, but if I can get them to take me to the restaurant instead, that would be even more appreciated.¡±


    He gave me a questioning look but nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll call down and change it then. Should be ready before you hit the lobby, Detective.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Vito, that is very kind of you,¡± I said.


    He was on his phone and ignored me.


    The cab pulled up just as I stepped outside. ¡°You Diamond?¡± The dark-skinned driver said with an odd lilt to his voice.


    ¡°According to the government and my parents, yeah, but I feel more like a rhinestone right now,¡± I said. He laughed dutifully.


    ¡°Told you going to D¡¯Argento¡¯s?¡± He said as I belted in and he launched forward.


    ¡°Yep,¡± I replied, showcasing my mastery of the art of small talk.


    ¡°If you looking for lunch, I know better place,¡± he offered.


    I looked at his badge, and replied ¡°No, Jean-Michele, I am looking for a crime scene.¡±


    ¡°May know some better ones of those, too,¡± he replied, smiling. It was my turn to laugh dutifully.


    After that brief chuckle, I said: ¡°Give me your card and maybe I¡¯ll have you show me some of them later, but for now, just need to get to D¡¯argento¡¯s.¡±


    His laugh at this was deep and genuine: ¡°You one of good ones, sir,¡± he said, sliding a card back to me at the next stop sign. Two turns later and I could see not only our destination, but also Milt leaping out of his car and running inside..


    The cab pulled up mere seconds later. As Vito supposedly covered the fare, I tossed a five to the driver as a tip and said: ¡°Thanks, Jean-Michele.¡±


    ¡°Just call me Mike. And call anytime sir. You one of the good ones.¡±


    ¡°I try,¡± I replied and rushed into the building.


    Milt was shouting angrily as I entered, and several restaurant staff members were staring at him, showing a mix of horror, frustration and fear on their faces.


    Domenic walked in just as I did and bellowed almost as loudly as Milt was: ¡°What is the meaning of this interruption!¡±


    Milt turned to him with fire in his eyes: ¡°This is an active crime scene and your people are cleaning it up¡­¡±¡±


    ¡°I have a business to run,¡± Dominic replied with equal fire.


    I stepped between them: ¡°Wait, did the Commissioner promise that you would open as usual?¡± I said.


    Both men froze as if slapped, and Domenic recovered first: ¡°Of course, why would you ask that?¡±


    I glanced at Milton. Instead of answering, I just said: ¡°Give us ten minutes to look around and see if we, or the CSU guys, missed anything earlier, and then you can get back to business, Okay?¡±


    Both men gave me questioning looks, and Domenic looked away. ¡°I¡¯ll give you fifteen, but then you are out of here, capisce?¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± I said to him. He shook his head and walked off muttering curse words in four languages, three of which I understood. As soon as he was gone, we started looking around.


    Most of the restaurant staff followed Dominic out but two of them remained pretty much frozen in place and gave us some assistance during our search.


    The CSU guys had been thorough, and the restaurant staff had tried to as well, but we each managed to find one thing that had been missed before. Mine was a piece of dark blue fabric and was only of moderate interest, but Milt found a bloody handprint on the underside of one really big kettle - a handprint with at least two clear fingerprints, and one missing finger. Probably our first useful lead.


    We helped clean up a bit before heading out. ¡°I need a ride to go get my car,¡± I told Milt as we headed out. ¡°Apparently it is not classy enough to take to meet Captains of Industry.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°That car is not classy enough to take to the Salvation Army store, but that never stopped you!¡±


    ¡°Where else can I afford these fine suits on a cop¡¯s salary?¡± I replied. He let out a light chuckle, unlocked his car and pointed to the passenger door.

 Chapter Six: Dissing my Wheels

    As we drove up to where I had left my old Civic, a man with a rumpled brown suit was looking at it disapprovingly as I said goodbye to Milt.


    ¡°I am entertaining offers, if you¡¯re looking to buy,¡± I informed Brown Suit.  He was an odd-looking man - thick iron gray hair tied back in a ponytail, and a long, thin face that kind of made me think of those Easter Island heads.  He was long and thin but had a paunch anyway, bringing to mind those old pictures of starving kids with distended bellies from some of the charity ad campaigns.  He looked disgusted at the mere thought of that car existing, let alone it being his.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to take this, uh, car off of these premises and to not return without a warrant.  And a better car,¡± he said by way of greeting.


    ¡°And you would be?¡± I asked.


    Rather than answering he held out a card.  As the print was small and I did not like him already, I squinted at it as if having trouble reading; I know it was a tad juvenile, especially for someone with a name like mine, but hey, I am young at heart, right?  ¡°Foreskin and Scrotum, Attorneys at law?¡± I asked as if reading it with great difficulty.


    His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, then he took a deep breath. ¡°ForeMAN and SCANLON,¡± he clarified.


    ¡°And I take it you are Mister Scrotum?¡± I asked, almost surprising myself at keeping a straight face while doing so.  Maybe it was time to go back to the boys¡¯ poker night after all.


    ¡°Scan¡­¡± he started then stopped, took another calming breath and said: ¡°I am Daniel Foreman.  My partner is Stanley Scanlon.¡±


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    ¡°Stanley Scanlon?¡± I asked.  ¡°Might want to stick to Scrotum.¡±


    He did his dying fish impersonation again; he was quite good at it. ¡°Be that as it may, you are ordered to leave these premises.  If you don¡¯t take that wreck with you, it will be disposed of properly.¡±


    Okay, now he was getting on my nerves.  I took out my wallet and flipped it open, then tapped his card to my badge.  Holding the card up I said: ¡°Paper,¡± and then holding up my badge: ¡°Badge.  Badge trumps paper.¡±


    He was almost as annoyed as I was at this point and pulled out a folded document. ¡°Cease and desist order signed by the mayor himself.  This paper trumps your badge.  Go away and don¡¯t return unless you have a warrant. And a vehicle recognizable as a car.¡±


    That was when my brain made the connection: ¡°Is your partner the mayor¡¯s brother?¡±


    ¡°Nephew.  His brother¡¯s oldest kid.¡±


    I nodded, took the notice out of his hand, unlocked my car and opened the door. ¡°Thank you for your time, Mister Scrotum,¡± I said.


    ¡°Foresk¡­¡± he began, then winced. ¡°Foreman,¡± he snapped out angrily.  ¡°And you are?¡±


    ¡°Diamond.  Detective Jack Diamond.¡±


    His eyes widened at this. ¡°Your parents must have really hated you¡­¡±


    ¡°Dad did.  Mom was okay,¡± I replied honestly, and fastened my seatbelt.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Mister Foreman said at this point, ¡°any communications with the family must be made through our offices unless you have a warrant and should only happen if myself or my partner is present.  Is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely, sir, and you have yourself a nice day,¡± I replied as I slammed the door.  Fortunately, nothing fell off the car this time.  I took a little sadistic pleasure at the blue smoke that briefly enveloped the lawyer as I drove off.  To myself, I wondered two things: ¡°why was the mayor inserting himself into the case like this,¡± and ¡°was it really a good idea to antagonize a lawyer with those kinds of connections.¡±


    As neither question would answer itself, I drove off to pick up coffee and meet my partner back at the station.

 Chapter Seven: A Visit With the M.E.

    As I handed Milt his coffee, he said: ¡°I hear you¡¯ve been making friends again¡­.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me. I have that kind of face.  Which stories have you heard?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Daniel Foreskin,¡± he replied, trying to look stern and almost succeeding.  ¡°I¡¯ve met the man and can¡¯t deny the name fits¡­. But his partner has an uncle who can make or break careers with a phone call¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± I replied, ¡°but his presence makes me wonder what the mayor¡¯s interest in this case is¡­¡±


    ¡°I doubt the mayor himself even knows about it, but his nephew loves name-dropping, and Carlton will do what he can to protect Stanley.  Always has, ever since they were little as far as I can tell.¡±


    Carlton was mayor Carlton Scanlon, of course, the guy who has run the city for about nine years, three times longer than I have been with the Force.


    ¡°Still the speed the lawyers got involved seems suspect to me,¡± I replied.  Milt just nodded and handed me a stack of paperwork.


    ¡°Fill these out, as much as you can, kid, and then grab some lunch and meet me at the morgue around one.  Should have something for us by then.¡±


    I sighed and nodded.  A bunch of witness statements, an equipment requisition form and an overdue arrest report dated the day before I made detective.  I sighed a second time and went to work.  Took a ten minute break to grab more coffee from the break room and a sandwich from the vending machine and another fifteen minutes trying to decide which had been worse for my digestion, but I barely managed to get through the papers - paperwork is at least half of what Your Boys in Blue do on a daily basis, and detectives do more of it than beat cops (also rookies get the lion''s share and the veterans just sign on the dotted lines, and then yell at us if there were mistakes) - in time to meet my partner at the morgue.


    I was about five minutes late and hesitated outside the door, as it was clear Milt and Doctor Grant were in full-on flirt mode.  I know she is much older than she looks, but she was still maybe half his age.  But hey, they seemed to enjoy it.  I hesitated a moment, and then knocked before entering.


    Karen looked up as I entered and went straight to business: ¡°now that you are both here, we believe your hunch is correct - there are indications that at least three people left biological trace in that room, and we will know more when the state crime lab can get back to us.¡±


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    I tried not to groan. The feds can usually get DNA evidence examined in detail within forty-eight hours, but if we have to go through a state or federal lab, we are lucky to hear back within seventy-two hours and I have heard of delays up to a week if there are higher priority cases in the queue.  The only place you get an answer in a day or less is on television, and sometimes even they have it taking over a day, if it seems more dramatic that way.


    ¡°So definitely two people plus our known victim in that room?¡±


    ¡°Five people present at least,¡± Milt said.  ¡°Three who lost blood or body parts and two more who left prints that either are in places that staff would not leave any or who aren''t staff.  One isn''t in the system, but the other should be here in about half an hour if the uniforms do their job right.¡±


    ¡°Good to know.  Why did we need to meet here to discuss it?¡±


    ¡°The finger,¡± Karen replied.  ¡°I am still trying to figure out what severed it.  All I can tell for certain is that it belonged to a man and was likely the index finger.  Print matches the unknown.  But look at this,¡± she said, turning her laptop to face me.  It showed a series of photographs of the finger from several angles.


    ¡°What am I looking at here?¡± I wondered aloud.


    The doctor replied: ¡°The edge of the wound.  There is no trace of metal.  I am running tests for ceramics but doubt anything will turn up that way, and the edge is not really clean enough for that, anyway.  It looks like a bite of some sort except¡­¡±


    ¡°It looks burned?¡± I offered.


    Milt nodded.  ¡°Thought so too.  Wondered if it struck an oven or something.¡±


    ¡°Possible but unlikely,¡± Karen Grant replied.  ¡°My best guess is some kind of serrated blade that was on fire and consumed by the flames as it cauterized the wound.  That would probably require some kind of accelerant, and I have not found any trace of any known chemicals that might work for that, but we''re still checking.  This is the weirdest thing I have seen in my nine years here,¡± she added.


    ¡°Wait, could an automatic weapon at close range do that?¡±


    ¡°In theory, but that would leave gunshot residue all over the finger and probably the rest of the room,¡± she replied, and I mentally slapped myself for forgetting that detail.


    ¡°It''s almost as if a fire breathing dog bit it off,¡± she said absently.  ¡°At least there are traces of metal in the neck of the female vic, traces that match one of the butcher¡¯s knives brought in, as a matter of fact.  Sadly, either everyone who used that blade wore gloves or it was wiped clean afterwards.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I guess they want us to earn our pay on this one,¡± I replied.


    ¡°On a brighter note,¡± Milton chimed in, ¡°I just got a text that our one suspect is being taken to Interrogation Three as we speak.  Time to head up Jack.  Always a pleasure, Karen.¡±


    ¡°Are we still on for tonight, Miltie?¡± She asked.


    I almost gagged.  If I had, I could always blame it on the smell of the place¡­


    ¡°Sure thing, Doc,¡± he replied with a bright smile. ¡°Come on rookie, time to earn our keep.¡±

 Chapter Eight: The Car Salesman

    The person waiting for us in Interrogation Room Number Three looked familiar, but I couldn''t initially attach a name to the face.  He had a kind of round face, looked like he had a lot of Hispanic blood in his background.  Graying temples, large brown eyes, slightly crooked smile.


    Milt gave me a grin and then held the door for me.  I entered and took a standing position in the corner, still trying to attach a name to that face.  Milton closed the door behind him, sat on the chair opposite our ¡°guest¡± and said: ¡°Tell me I am ¡®cuhrayzee¡¯ Vincent.¡±


    And then it clicked in from all those late-night ads - Vincent Dacosta of Dacosta New and Used Motors - ¡°How can I charge such low, low prices? I am CUHRAYZEE!¡± I almost laughed, and did permit a smile to creep onto my lips as I realized this.


    ¡°Hey man,¡± he replied, ¡°you probably are crazy, but I don''t know what I¡¯m in here for this time.  I sell your wife a lemon?¡±


    ¡°If you did it would be buried with her, as she left us eight years ago.  Then again, selling to the dead may be one of your games.  Rookie, make a note to look into that, Okay?¡±


    I took out a notepad and dutifully scribbled something into it.


    ¡°I know nothing about that.  Nor about why your guys dragged me in here.¡±


    ¡°Getting to it, friend.  But first, what¡¯s up with your hand there?¡±


    I kicked myself for not noticing this sooner - Vincent Dacosta¡¯s right hand was wrapped in thick bandages. He glanced at it, shrugged, and said: ¡°I slipped while working on a new arrival and burned the¡­¡± here he used a word that I admit I have used more times than I like but have no desire to put into print.  Feel free to assume he used it, and various Spanish or Portuguese variations of it with increasing frequency over the rest of this discussion. ¡°...out of it.  Have the doctor¡¯s notes in my pocket if you wanna see.  They folded it up nice and neat for me when I left the clinic.¡±


    ¡°Rookie, check his pocket, would you?¡± Milt said without looking away from Dacosta.  I walked over, patted two pockets before I found one with something in it, and took out a folded piece of paper.  I held on to it.


    ¡°So where were you between ten PM and two AM last night?¡±


    ¡°How should I know? Went out drinking with some buddies around eight.  Have vague memories of losing a bundle in a card game, woke up with a hangover, made it into work and ruined my hand on a new acquisition.  Anyone who could confirm this was as blotto as I was.¡±. He did not actually say ¡®blotto¡¯ but something a hair more vulgar; I believe this gets the same point across.


    ¡°So, no verifiable alibi?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.  If I knew I needed one, I would have gone to places that keep their cameras on.  I mean, I can prove I was at ¡®My Cousin¡¯s Place¡¯ until about ten, but I think we left then and have no clue exactly where we went until I woke up at home.¡±


    I had idly opened the paper I had taken from him and my eyes noticed something.  I tapped Milt on the shoulder and pointed to the name of the person listed for billing purposes.


    He cocked an eyebrow at this and waved me back to the corner. ¡°So, can you at least give me the names of the other degenerates you hung out with so I can see if any are sober enough to make a statement?¡±


    ¡°Pretty sure ¡®Tiny¡¯ Carmichael was there.  And Danny Perone.  Maybe Carlos Franco; he was with us for part of the night, at least. The rest is a blur, man.¡±


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    I knew Nathaniel ¡®Tiny¡¯ Carmichael - he was a very short, very fat man who allegedly had a hand in every illegal gambling operation in the city.  And Danny Perone worked at the restaurant - very interesting.


    ¡°And how exactly do you know one Morgan Price?¡± Milt then asked him.


    Vincent blinked at this.  ¡°What does that have to do with ¡­ anything?¡±


    ¡°A simple question: how do you know him?¡±


    He hesitated, and then answered: ¡°I ran into a spot of financial trouble last year.  He bailed me out and has owned half of the dealership for the last six, seven months,¡± he replied, apparently embarrassed to admit this.


    ¡°And he¡¯s paying your medical bills?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been negotiating with insurance companies. Until we get something hammered out, he loans us the money for any treatments we need.  We should have something in place by next month.¡±


    ¡°So, he paid to have burns on your thumb treated?¡± Milt continued.


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    ¡°Only this says you have a severed index finger,¡± was my reply, reading the note.


    ¡°Yeah, that is what I meant.¡±


    ¡°An index finger found at a murder scene this morning,¡± Milt tossed in.


    The room fell silent.  You could have heard a pin drop.  I think.  Would have tested it just to be sure if I¡¯d possessed a pin at the time.  And then, after taking a deep breath, Vincent Dacosta said: ¡°Okay.  I cannot say anything more without my lawyer present.  His name is Daniel¡­¡±


    ¡°Daniel Foreman?¡± I offered, pulling out the card I had pocketed earlier.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, how¡¯d you know?¡± Vinnie asked.


    ¡°Just a hunch.  He seems to be tied into this case somehow.¡± I replied.


    ¡°Well, this is just a friendly chat so far,¡± Milt replied.  ¡°Yeah, I can call your lawyer, but then I might have to arrest you.  Should I arrest you?¡±


    Vincent looked frightened.  ¡°I can''t talk about no murder.  If you want to go there, I need my lawyer.¡±


    ¡°You got the number there, Jack, right?  Go make the call,¡± Milt said to me.  Then he turned his attention back to our ¡°guest:¡± ¡°You want something to drink while we wait, Vin?  Water? Coffee?¡±


    ¡°Nah I¡­ well a water sounds okay, or a soda if you have one.¡±


    I opened the door, stepped out of Interrogation Three, and almost collided with Daniel Foreman.  ¡°Speak of the Devil,¡± I said.  ¡°You looking for Vincent Dacosta or are you here for another client?¡±


    He blinked in surprise, and then said: ¡°Vinnie.¡±


    ¡°In there,¡± I said, pointing to the room I¡¯d just left.  He nodded and went inside. Milt joined me in the hallway a few seconds later.  ¡°No, that timing is not suspicious at all,¡± he said.


    ¡°This is beginning to stink like the fish market in August,¡±¡± I replied.


    ¡°Eh, that is just Foreman¡¯s cologne,¡± Milt replied.


    ¡°He does seem to marinade in it,¡± I observed.


    ¡°I was heading out to get our guest a soda.  You want anything?¡±


    ¡°Only if the break room has Scotch or bourbon,¡± I replied.  Milt handed me a flask and wandered off.  I opened the flask, took a whiff, grinned like a kid at Christmas, and took a swig.  It was cheap but it was strong; I coughed as it went down, recapped the flask, and pocketed it quickly to slip back to Milt when he returned.


    Then I jumped as someone tapped me on the shoulder and I spun around to come face to face with Patrolman Patrick Cline.  We had spent some time together in a radio car back when I was on patrol ¡°Hey Pat,¡± I said, trying to hide my surprise.


    ¡°Hoped that was you, Jack,¡± he said, ¡°You have a visitor.  She asked for some privacy, so she is waiting in Interrogation One. Quite a looker, too.¡±


    ¡°Thanks - you gotta be somewhere soon?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Not really,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Good, then could you do me a solid and wait here.  When my partner Milt gets back, let him know where I went?¡± I asked.


    Pat nodded. ¡°Oh yeah, sure Jack.  Hey, if she is single or has a sister, keep me in mind,¡± he added with a quick grin.  Pat always had a thing for the ladies - probably why he didn¡¯t do well enough on the detective exam to move up out of patrol with me, he got a bit too distracted by the training officer administering the test.  Anyway, I headed off to Interrogation One, blissfully unaware of how complicated things were about to get.

 Chapter Nine: Carol

    I opened the door to Interrogation Room Number One and the first thing I saw were legs.  Long, slender legs that went on for days.


    Legs that I could stare at for hours.


    Legs that I had stared at for hours back when we were both much younger.  I didn''t need to go any farther than those legs to know who was waiting for me; as I quickly shut the door and made sure that the cameras and recording devices were off, I said: ¡°Hey Carol.  Didn''t expect to see you again so soon.¡±


    ¡°I did not expect to be here, but an hour or so after you left, Dad came by the place.  He had some guys with him - Vito¡¯s dad, a guy in a wheelchair, a lawyer who I have seen before but whose name I don''t believe I have ever heard, and another guy I never saw before.  They all went into Vito¡¯s study and locked the door.  He never locks the door,¡± she said, while nervously fiddling with the necklace she wore.


    I waited patiently for her to continue, trying hard not to enjoy the view enough to lose focus on what she was saying.  It was harder than it sounds.  Her hair was now loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple blouse and short skirt instead of the workout gear.  She was also wearing mismatched shoes as if she had put them on in a hurry and just grabbed two pumps of the same height and similar style.  That was not like her at all.


    ¡°I¡­ well, I listened at the door.  Couldn''t hear everything they said, but what I did hear ¡­ Jack, I think I need protection.  I think they plan to¡­¡± she paused, and a slight sob escaped her.  I wanted to rush over and hold her but refrained, and instead just leaned against the table and motioned for her to go on.


    After a few seconds of silence: ¡°The lawyer, any chance it could have been Stanley Scanlon?¡± I asked while she tried to compose herself.


    She looked at me with a thoughtful expression on her lovely face. ¡°I don''t know if I ever heard the name, but if he¡¯s related to Mayor Scanlon, it probably was him - looked a lot like the Mayor, only not as fat and with more hair.¡±


    ¡°Stanley¡¯s his nephew,¡± I replied. ¡°And the man in the wheelchair - does the name ¡®Morgan Price¡¯ mean anything to you?¡±. I asked.


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    ¡°He¡¯s some kind of antique dealer or something?  Never met him but someone did refer to another guy in the room as ¡®Mister Price¡¯ so maybe.¡±


    *Sorry for the interruption,¡± I said.


    ¡°Nah, I needed that to focus my thoughts.  That a tactic they teach you or you just still know me that well?¡±


    I laughed.  I had forgotten how well it always worked on her in the past, but it was also a technique we were taught.  ¡°Both, actually,¡± I admitted.


    She let out a chuckle.  ¡°Anyway, I only heard a few words but some of it made my blood run cold and made me think I need to get some protection.  The first thing I heard was ¡®lost control'' and that made me listen more intently.  Then there was ¡®a few more days to make the sacrifice¡¯ and then the line that made me decide to get out of there immediately, Vito''s voice saying, ''I hate to say it, but at least she does have a sister¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Vito said that?¡± I asked, surprised.  He seemed to be the only straight shooter in the batch.  Guess appearances can be deceiving.


    ¡°Yes.  I know my husband''s voice.  He did sound sad as he said it, but he said it.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.  Sounds like you need somewhere to lie low for a while then?¡±


    ¡°I ...  yeah, I think so,¡± she said as if suddenly realizing this.  ¡°Could I ¡­ would it be possible to stay at your place?¡±


    I let out a snort.  ¡°I wish I could say yes, but if someone¡¯s looking for you, that is one of the first places they would look if they know anything of our history.  Nah, you sit tight here.  I have a few people I can call in favors from that I trust and should be able to set something up within an hour.¡±


    She rose to her feet and, to my surprise, embraced me.  I stiffened (okay, in more ways than one) in surprise at this for a second, but then returned the embrace for a moment before pushing her away


    She stepped back quickly ¡°Oh! I am sorry if that was out of line, I just am so scared¡­¡±


    I smiled.  ¡°I understand.  Until we figure out what¡¯s really going on here - it now seems to be more than just a single, bizarre murder at this point - we have to keep things professional.  And I came close to being not professional there,¡± I admitted.


    She blushed slightly at this and stepped back.


    I took my phone out and sent out a few quick texts.  One got a positive reply, and I smiled.  ¡°Time to go meet someone,¡± I told Carol.  I didn''t think it was quite the right time to tell her that this ¡°somebody¡± was a prostitute who owed me a big favor¡­

 Chapter Ten: Thunder Rolls

    I know her real name but on the job, she preferred ¡°Kim Thunder¡± so that was what I called her.  She was one of a group of six girls lured into ''The Life'' by the late Lucas Moneghan, a real piece of work who believed ''health insurance'' was ¡°driving his employees to the free clinic and not charging them for gas.¡± And he took them there a lot - weekly checks for career-ending illnesses and hiding the frequent signs from when he lost his stereotypical Irish temper.  Sadly, it was that temper that did him in and not me; he lost it in front of the wrong guy in General Population and did not get to see the next sunrise.  Nobody shed a tear at his wake.


    After taking leave of my partner for a bit, I snuck Carol out of a back way at the station, rode around to the only still working pay phone in the city, and called Kim¡¯s cell.  She agreed to meet at a coffee shop we both knew, and I went there on the most circuitous (bet a lot of my old teachers would be surprised that I know that word) route that I could think of, and forty minutes later the three of us were sharing a table.  Kim had some kind of drink that seemed to be cream, sugar and caffeine - maybe there was some coffee or tea in it too, somewhere.  Carol had a black coffee with half a packet of chemicals claiming to be a sugar substitute, and I was the wimp of the group, sipping at an iced tea and wishing it were a Long Island one, if you get my meaning.


    Kim had once been stunningly gorgeous, possibly Carol¡¯s equal, but after two years of Moneghan¡¯s drugs and abuse, she was merely a good-looking woman with too many lines on her hard face, almost concealed by heavy cosmetics, and a wild mane of curly red hair that fell just below her shoulders.  Her hazel eyes looked us over.  She was clearly a little disappointed that, when I finally called in the favor she owed me, it did not involve the two of us performing some fairly acrobatic activities behind closed doors.


    ¡°So, this is the friend you want me to help, eh?¡± She said between sips of her drink.  ¡°Well, if she is looking to join ''The Profession'' she definitely has the body for it¡­¡±


    Carol¡¯s response impressed me: ¡°uh, thank you, I think, but Jack thinks you can help me lie low for a bit, since I suspect I may be the target of some bad people.  I think, uh, ''the Profession'' might keep me out where I might be recognized¡­¡±


    Kim smirked at this, ¡°My girls could probably make you unrecognizable, but I get your point.  Yeah, I can get her a room and make sure she gets food and such, can even get one of the boys who have been helping us to watch her for a few days, a week at most, but I cannot do this solely as a favor, as it will cost me time, money, and security.  And, given how nice your lady¡¯s clothes are, it will not be the luxury that she is accustomed to, I can guarantee that.¡±


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    I exchanged a look with Carol, who just nodded.


    ¡°So how much are we talking?¡± I asked.


    ¡°How long does she need to hide out?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I don''t know,¡± I replied sadly.


    ¡°Same answer.  How about you give me a hundred now and I¡¯ll get in touch when I need more?¡±


    Carol spoke up at this point: ¡°I managed to grab some cash on the way out.  I grew up reading pulp detective novels and have seen enough TV shows like this to know not to use plastic.  I can give you two hundred right now, will that be a good start?¡±


    ¡°Beautiful, honey,¡± Kim said with a sweet smile


    ¡°Okay now, you two sit tight.  Maybe get to know each other a bit.  I''m going across the street to the convenience store to buy two burners, one for me and I¡¯ll put my burner''s number and Kim¡¯s in the other for you, Carol.  Only use it in an emergency and only answer if it is coming from either my real or my burner phone.  If it is not me at the other end, or I do not say something to show I am not being traced, hang up immediately.¡±


    Both women nodded and I left the coffee shop.  I had never done this cloak and dagger stuff before.  It was kind of fun but a bit too nerve wracking to want to make a habit out of... Guess I would make a lousy spy.


    It took about ten minutes to get the phones and set them up. ¡°Now, only tell me where you are if you need an immediate pickup, otherwise it is best that I do not see you until we have resolved this mess somehow, got it?¡±


    She accepted the phone and quietly said: ¡°Got it, Jack.  I am scared.¡±


    ¡°No need for that, honey,¡± Kim said, ¡°I¡¯m good at hiding things.  Heck, Lucas only knew of about two thirds of the Tricks I pulled, which is a big reason why I¡¯m now the boss instead of just a worker.¡±


    She was not kidding.  Three of Moneghan¡¯s girls stuck with her after he went down, and she¡¯s now, I guess, their Madam; even has a small office she works out of sometimes.  One of them left ¡®The Life¡¯ altogether, had even considered joining the force before getting involved with a lawyer and dropping out of the Police Academy to raise a family.  Even asked me to be godfather for their first kid, when he pops out next month.  The other one?  Well, that was a sad story and is part of why nobody shed a tear when Lucas passed.  I helped Kim cover her funeral and have been back to the gravesite once since then on my own.  Dana had been a good kid, and even helped us get Moneghan¡¯s supplier before we got to him, but he found out about her working with us before we could get there, and she never even made it to the hospital¡­

 Chapter Eleven: It Gets Weird

    After leaving the two women, I took a roundabout way back to the station (once again my teachers would be proud of my vocabulary, and maybe a little shocked by it).


    I should have checked the lot more carefully; I might have known what was about to happen.  I walked in the door to the station and a desk sergeant said: ¡°There he is!¡±


    Two people turned to face me.  Unfortunately, Vito Mercotti was a lot faster than Milt.


    ¡°Where is she, Jack?¡± He bellowed at me.


    ¡°I am a bit slow today and you¡¯ll have to narrow it down for me.  Which ¡®she¡¯ do you mean?¡±


    Vito had reached my position and was about to grab my jacket when Milt laid a hand on his shoulder: ¡°that would be assaulting an officer, pal.  Use your words not your hands, okay?¡¯


    Vito glared at him for a second, then back at me. ¡°Where is my wife?  She came here to see you and then disappeared¡­¡±


    I was mostly honest with my reply: ¡°She came in, asking about the case, I took her for coffee, and we both left the cafe going in different directions.  No clue where she is now.¡±


    ¡°She left her cell phone in the car.  That¡¯s not like her.  I¡¯m worried.¡±


    It took more willpower than I expected to not ask exactly why he was worried - maybe he wanted to protect her, maybe he was afraid she heard something innocent and suspected the worst, or maybe he was really planning to sacrifice her.  What I did say was: ¡°the only thing she mentioned was something about that wheelchair guy, uh, Price I think, Morgan Price maybe?  Maybe she was going to see him about something?¡±


    Vito frowned at me, but then took out his phone and called a number. ¡°Hi, Janis? Is Morgan around?  No?  Do you know if Carol has contacted him?  Not to your knowledge?  Thanks.  Let me know if she does, or if he has any information about her, okay?  Yeah, I think everything¡¯s fine, but I just have not seen her in two hours and am a little worried.  Yep, you too. Thanks.¡± And he hung up, looking frustrated.


    Vito then shook off Milton¡¯s hand and pulled out a nice, embossed card.  ¡°Take this and call me as soon as you can if she gets in touch.¡±


    I smirked and reached in my pocket for one of my, far less impressive, cards. ¡°Take mine and do the same, okay?¡± I replied and exchanged my card for his.  He shrugged and slipped it into his pocket.


    As he pocketed it, he said: ¡°Look, I know you two had a history, and that there¡¯s some weird stuff going down.  Full moon and all.  I really am worried so, well, keep an eye out for her and just¡­ just let me know she¡¯s okay?¡±. He seemed to be wanting to plead but too proud to do so.


    ¡°All I can say,¡± I informed him, ¡°Is that something clearly had her spooked when we talked, but other than being very nervous she seemed fine when we parted.  Really.¡±


    He met my gaze for a moment, and years at the poker table must have paid off for me, while either he really was concerned or years of dealing with corporate executives paid off for him - neither of us read anything but concern in the other¡¯s eyes.  He then simply nodded at me, turned and nodded at Milt, and headed out.  Seconds later I heard the distinctive roar of the Lamborghini as it left the lot outside.


    ¡°He does not know your tells, but I do, Jack,¡± Milt said.  ¡°Come back to my office and spill.¡±


    Quietly, I followed him back to his desk - he did have a door, so I guess it was an office.  My desk was opposite his and another pair of desks, currently empty due to budget cuts, shared the space with us.  He pointed to a chair on his side of the desk, and I sat.


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    He opened with: ¡°When you lie, you clench and unclench your left fist.  You kept it in your pocket so even if he knew to look, Vito might not have seen it but I did.  What is up.¡±


    I hesitated a moment, then let out a dry chuckle.  ¡°Okay, you got me.  Yeah, she came here claiming she overheard her husband talking with Stanley Scanlon and, apparently, Morgan Price, and it sounded to her like they were planning to do her harm.  She came here looking for help and I passed her off to a friend to help hide.¡±


    Milt eyed me levelly: ¡°Other than me your only friends are two bartenders, a hooker, that clerk at City Hall who wants to be more than friends, and an allegedly reformed drug dealer.  I will not ask which one, but you had better be sure that, if she is right, none of them have connections in politics or you just turned her over to the enemy.¡±


    I frowned at this.  I had at least two other friends but none of them would be of any use here.  And then I realized exactly what he was saying and who some of the clients who frequented Kim¡¯s place were and a cold feeling entered my gut.


    Recognizing the expression on my face, Milt said: ¡°Go ahead and call, I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person once and it cost me the second woman that I thought I was going to marry, so I do not want you to have that kind of guilt.¡±


    You see, Kim stayed in business partly because she has dirt on almost everyone powerful in town, or at least everyone who, ah, steps out with women.  I would trust her with my life, except she keeps almost nothing from her girls and them¡­ two of them I do not trust.  Not one bit.


    Carol picked up on the third ring.  ¡°I hope you are calling about the extended warranty on my car, as I am in dire need,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Actually I was looking to sell you a life insurance policy, but can shift gears if needed," I answered.


    I heard her delightful laugh and then: ¡°that really you Jack?  Are you free to talk?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, doll, though we will have to make it snappy.  Had a big guy asking around about you just now and wanted to make sure things are okay.¡±


    ¡°I am glad you called.  The guy outside the door seems cool but the girl who just came in and asked me all sorts of questions ¡­ Well, I was just about to call you when the phone rang and I dropped it in surprise.¡±


    I winced.  ¡°Linda, Serena or Sapphire?¡± I asked, hoping it was Sapphire.


    ¡°She said her name was Serena, why?¡±


    I cursed and said: ¡°okay, where are you?  Milt and I are coming to get you now.  That location is no longer safe.¡±


    ¡°I did not catch the address but there are a few landmarks I can see out the grimy window,¡± she replied and started rattling them off as I put her on speaker for a moment.  Milt and I both realized where she had to be and were on our way before I even ended the call.


    The hotel she was at was one known for having clean beds and bathrooms, hourly rates, and not much else.  It took us almost ten full minutes to get there and I jumped out of the car before it was fully parked, racing into the hotel and up to the third floor, where her room was, as fast as I could.  Finding her room was a little too easy - it was the one with the unconscious or dead guy slumped in the hall outside and the door smashed in.  The only good news was that her scream from inside the room told me she was both still there and still alive.  I drew my gun and called out: ¡°whoever¡¯s in there, put your hands up.  This is the police.  We have the site surrounded and I am coming in.¡±


    No response, except her scream this time was muffled.


    I heard the elevator ding behind me, glanced back, and saw Milt get off.  He saw my gun and drew his own piece.


    I nodded at him and then jumped into the door frame - and almost screamed myself.


    She was there, alive and literally kicking.  She was also being held about a foot above the ground.  Three arms were holding her, one pinning her left arm against her body, the other beneath her right arm holding her up.  The third covered her mouth.


    The reason why this bothered me was that all three arms, along with a fourth that was about to smash the window with a lamp, all belonged to the same, massive, ape-like body.  Carol was being above the ground by this massive thing.  It turned a huge head, one resembling a horrid cross between a bat and a panther, to face me, and it spoke, in a voice straight out of nightmares: ¡°Diamond!  My boss does not want any deaths today so stand down and you and the girl will both live at least a few more hours!¡±


    From behind me I heard Milt voicing my thoughts exactly: ¡°What the ..¡±

 Chapter Twelve: Down the Rabbit Hole

    My partner and I had rushed to save a woman I had a history with from what we thought were mobsters.


    We arrived to find the man left to guard her was unconscious or dead (things had moved too fast to check), and she was being held captive by a creature straight out of nightmares.  Three of the monster¡¯s four arms were engaged in keeping the hostage, Carol Mercotti, immobilized while the fourth held a lamp.  It had a head that had traits of both a bat and a cat, yet somehow it could speak, although in a voice as monstrous as its form¡­ and it knew my name.


    ¡°Jack. I am ordered not to kill anyone unless I must.  Stand down!¡± It ordered me.


    As it finished saying this, my partner Milt showed up and swore.


    With a bravado that surprised even myself, I said: ¡°so you know my name?  Do you have one?¡¯


    It made a weird bellowing roar that I realized was laughter.  ¡°I like you, Jack Diamond. I have a name, but you may not use it.  Call me The Hunter.¡±


    Then it swung the lamp at the window and both items shattered.  It let out that odd laugh again, and launched itself out through the new opening.  As it left the room, wings sprouted or unfurled or something from its back; they almost seemed like liquid at one point but then they looked like much larger versions of a bat¡¯s wings.


    It''s body was now between Carol and us so Milt took aim with his pistol but I waved him down.  ¡°Best case you kill it and it drops to the street below with her underneath.  Worst case, the bullet bounces and it comes back in here angry.¡±


    He hesitated a moment, but then holstered his gun as the thing rose up into the air and flew off.  I followed suit. ¡°You know, I am not sure how we would bring something like that thing in if we did arrest it,¡± he said.


    I laughed. ¡°Did you hear it talk?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.  That may be harder to believe than the fact that it exists,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Yeah, but it said it has a boss.  I don¡¯t think we can put that thing in cuffs, but I¡¯m willing to bet we can lock its boss up¡­¡±


    ¡°You got an idea who that boss is?¡±


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    ¡°A couple.  Top guess is Morgan Price,¡± I replied.


    He looked at me.  ¡°Interesting guess.  Any way to prove it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.  Need to get over to the tech guys.  Carol still had her burner in her pocket.  If it is on, we can track them.¡±


    We headed to the elevator as he asked: ¡°you could see that?  You are a good detective.  I barely saw the girl that thing was holding, let alone what was in her pocket.  Any idea what it was?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°The Hunter.  Or so it said.¡±


    ¡°Real helpful, that.  Maybe we should consult a tarot reader on this case?¡±


    As the elevator door slid shut, I said: ¡°That is far from the worst idea I have heard all day.¡±


    At the front desk, I tossed a couple of twenties (probably my grocery money for the week) at the clerk, and said: ¡°There is a bit of a mess on three.  We didn¡¯t do it and it is probably much more than I can cover.  Might want to look into it,.¡± as we headed out.


    The look on the clerk¡¯s face, as he went from bored to angry to greedy to worried was almost with the price of admission.  Almost wished I could stick around to see his reaction when he saw the room, but I had bigger fish to fry.


    ¡°I do not think we can call this one in as a crime scene, Jacky,¡± Milt said as we stepped outside.


    ¡°Of course not - admitting I knew where she was would be bad enough, but trying to explain what that thing was that took Carol?  We would be lucky to just face the wrath of Internal Affairs and not a full on psych evaluation,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Still, there is a body¡­¡±


    ¡°Did you identify as a cop?  I did not,¡± I replied.  ¡°Could call it in anonymously, I guess.¡±


    Milt paused for a second.  ¡°Let¡¯s grab a drink first ¡°


    ¡°On the clock?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m buying.¡±


    I really wanted to but¡­ ¡°I think I should see about tracking that burner first.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you are right, partner.  Pity my flask is empty.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I replied.


    ¡°If I didn¡¯t want you to drain it, I would have kept it to myself.  You know, that is the same flask dad used during the second World War.  Just like him, I keep some juice in it for purely medicinal purposes,¡± he said with a wink.


    Not knowing what to say to that, I just gave him a friendly pat on the back.  Fortunately, we reached his car before either of us thought of anything further to say


    As we got in, though, Milt surprised me: ¡°Just remembered something.  We want a trace on that, we have reams of paperwork to wade through and a bunch of explanations.  But I know a guy who doesn''t worry about those details¡­¡±


    ¡°Does he work out of the back room of a bar?¡±


    ¡°Do pigs like mud?¡± Well, he really did not say ¡°mud¡± but close enough¡­


    ¡°Sounds like a perfect destination then,¡± I replied.

 Chapter Thirteen: The Spider

    A guy saddled with the name ¡®Jack Diamond¡¯ probably should not be making bones about other folks¡¯s monikers, but I completely understood why Lincoln Danforth III preferred to be called Spider.


    Why he seemed to want to live like a spider is another issue altogether and I¡¯m sure he has a therapist who knows all about it.  His room, at the back of Mike Halloran¡¯s bar, was lit only by computer screens - lots and lots of computer screens.  Wires stretched everywhere, making the room really feel like a spider¡¯s web.  Lincoln himself was a round young man, starting to go bald, with a spotty complexion and hair that I think was sandy brown, but I had never seen him in bright enough light to be certain.  He always wore black and favored track suits.


    He also wears an ankle monitor and allegedly works for at least one government agency though not sure if it was the Department of Justice, the NSA or someone else - or if he is somehow gaming the system and working for more than one of them.  He is supposed to have a twenty-four hour ¡°chaperone¡± but his minders only seem to turn up for about two or three hours at a time, at seemingly random intervals, and then go off and do their own things for a while.  Of course, he¡¯s evasive when asked about all of this, but he¡¯s good at what he does


    Milt opened pleasantries with the elaborate ¡°Hey, Spider.¡±


    ¡°Hey, cop,¡± was his well-thought out and highly articulate reply.


    ¡°Got a number for you to trace,¡± Milt continued.


    Without looking away from his bank of monitors, Spider replied: ¡°Got fifty bucks?¡±


    ¡°Gone up a bit,¡± Milt said, unrolling some bills.


    ¡°Inflation sucks,¡± was the accurate, curt answer.  Eyes still on his monitors.


    ¡°Here is sixty.  Give him the number, Jack.¡±


    Spider actually perked up at this and even glanced our way: ¡°Overpaying?  This must be big.¡±


    ¡°No, just urgent,¡± I said, ¡°we¡¯re tracking the burner on a kidnap victim.¡±


    Spider typed the number out on one keyboard and then grabbed another and started some rapid-fire typing on it as well.  The only sound in the room was the humming of fans and the clacking of keys.


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    Two minutes passed, and then: ¡°the phone is on, seems to be moving.  No, wait, it seems to have just stopped.  Accessing GPS,¡± he announced.  Then he rattled off an address.


    An address I knew: Vito Mercotti¡¯s address.


    ¡°What game are you playing at, Vito?¡± I asked under my breath.


    ¡°Am I mistaken,¡± Milt asked, ¡°Or is that about where we picked up that thing you call a car earlier?¡±


    ¡°The exact spot,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    After that insightful comment, I continued with my thoughts: ¡°Pretty sure that this is not enough for a warrant, and I strongly suspect someone needs to pay a certain Mister Price a visit.  Wanna drop me off a couple of blocks from the Mercotti place and go talk to the antiques guy?¡±


    Instead of an answer, Milt gave me a warning: ¡°You realize that if you get caught doing anything shady, it¡¯ll mean your badge, right?¡±


    I took a deep breath and answered: ¡°I promised to protect Carol and failed.  I need to set things right.¡±


    Spider interrupted us with: ¡°I turned on the camera and microphone.  Not seeing anything so it¡¯s probably still inside something, but I¡¯m getting some audio.¡±


    We crowded around his workstation and strained to listen; the sound was muffled, and he was constantly tweaking settings to pick up more details.


    ¡°...only way?¡± We heard one voice ask.  Sounded like Vito but could not be sure due to the poor quality.


    The next voice faded in and out, as if the speaker were pacing back and forth. My best guess is the man we could not identify said: ¡°I will check with Morgan but¡± this part we could not make out and it ended with: ¡°at least without having to wait several¡­¡± The last word was muffled but I am pretty sure it was ¡°years.¡±


    Then we heard what sounded like footsteps going away followed by muffled sobs.


    ¡°Think you can clean that up a bit, Spider?¡± Milt asked.


    ¡°¡®Course I can.  May take some time and I do better without goons breathing down my back,¡± was the reply.  ¡°Also, I could use some fried mushrooms.¡±


    ¡°Right.  Jack, I¡¯ll drop you off and go visit Price - if I can find a uniform who can be discreet, I¡¯ll grab him for backup.  Get the kid an order of mushrooms then meet me at the car.  Gotta hit the can.¡±


    After ordering a large plate of fried mushrooms and an energy drink for good measure for Spider, I rejoined Milt just as I had an idea: ¡°Might want to see if Pat Cline is free - he is good and already got himself involved in this a bit.¡±


    ¡°Your old partner?  Good call,¡± Milt replied.


    That said, we filed out into his car and did not speak again until he let me off a few blocks from the Mercotti house.


    ¡°Be careful, kid,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m getting too old to break in any more rookies¡­¡±


    I laughed: ¡°You be careful too - this thing seems to be bigger and weirder than we could have imagined.¡±

 Chapter Fourteen: Illicit Entry

    Milt dropped me off three blocks from the Mercotti place and I hoofed it.  The afternoon sun was starting to hide behind clouds, getting ready to run away from the oncoming full moon.


    And yes, I did pay some attention during those poetry classes.  Mostly to impress Jodi Harper, the girl I was sort of with before I met Carol way back when, but we all have our motivations, right?


    There were two cars in the drive - the Lambo and a big black thing I was not close enough to identify.  I circled around the place, watching for any activity.  And for guard dogs or drones or other obvious security.  All I saw was that the place had three levels in the main building and two wings with two stories each.  It was unlikely, given a high water table in the area, but possible that there was also a cellar.


    I did see a light go on in the attic, and then shut off.


    I took out my cell phone.  Yeah, it¡¯s a so-called smart phone.  Probably smarter than me.  Has crap for audio but some amazing features on the camera and a bunch of useful apps.  Also, a stupid Sudoku game that I like to tick myself off trying to solve every once in a while.


    But I digress.


    Anyway, the coolest - or am I too old to be using that word these days? - feature is this telephoto thing that lets me zoom in at incredible detail.  I began scanning the house, looking in each window, starting at the top and moving to the side and down.  Found some movement in one study or library or whatever rich people call rooms with lots of books on the walls. Saw a woman leaving a kitchen with a covered tray and wondered why they needed three kitchens.


    Then I heard a sound behind me and almost jumped out of my skin.


    ¡°Whatcha doin¡¯ Mister?¡± A young-sounding voice came from behind.  I whirled around and saw a kid, maybe ten probably younger, who had snuck up on me.


    ¡°Hi kiddo.  I am playing at being a spook.  Since you caught me, I guess I am not doing too well,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Looking for the pretty lady?¡± He asked innocently.


    ¡°Among others, yeah,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°A big ape thing brought her here about an hour ago, when I first came out to play.  Kind of creepy but cool,¡± he told me.


    ¡°Ape thing?¡± I asked, surprised.  ¡°Did it have bat ears, wings and a shark¡¯s fin?¡±


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    ¡°Didn¡¯t see wings.  Had lumps on its back that might have been folded wings.  Didn¡¯t see much more than that.  Wait - you believe me?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, kid, I believe you.  Something really strange is going on there,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Yeah - saw a man flying above his wheelchair last Saturday,¡± he added.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name kid?¡±


    ¡°Duggan.  Patrick Duggan.  Yours?¡±


    Patrick Duggan¡­ must be the younger son of Seamus Duggan, current head of Duggan Brothers Construction.  Not quite millionaires but close enough. ¡°Detective Jack Diamond.¡±


    ¡°Jack Diamond?¡± My new little friend asked, ¡°Like a playing card?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, exactly like a playing card.¡±


    ¡°Cool!¡±  Wow, someone actually likes my name?  Never saw that coming!


    ¡°Say, did you see where the ape thing took the pretty lady?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah - that big window on the second floor was open, and it just jumped up there with her, from the ground.¡±


    I followed his pointing finger to a bay window.


    ¡°Thanks, Patrick.  You are a good kid.  Now, you might want to get out of here as it might get rough.  Plus, your momma, Janey Duggan, right? - is probably worried sick about you.¡±


    ¡°Nah, mommy was sipping the bottle and is probably asleep.  But the housekeeper probably has dinner ready.  Nice meeting you Jack the Spook!¡±


    ¡°Nice meeting you, Patty the Observant,¡± I replied and watched him trudge off into the sparsely wooded area between houses.


    Well, if nothing else positive comes out of the day, at least it looks like I made a friend.


    I turned my attention back to the house.  My gut was telling me that, unless there was a cellar, Carol was being held in the attic - and if there was a cellar, then the odds were fifty-fifty.  I was not capable of a thirty-foot vertical jump so had to get in another way.  There appeared to be an open window on the second floor above the garage, and a tree located conveniently enough to get to the garage roof, so, as stealthily as I could manage, I made my way over there.


    The goings were pretty easy, and my youth spent climbing everything I could, coupled with my body being in as good a shape as a borderline alcoholic can get, getting up on the garage roof was simplicity itself.


    Sadly, it was a tile roof - why people do that instead of good old-fashioned shingles I will never understand - so I had to be very careful not to make a loud racket crossing it.  Hmm - maybe that was why people used that stuff, to dissuade robbers?


    Anyway, by the time I crossed to the main building, the sun was starting to set.  The window was higher than it had looked from the ground, but large enough that I should be able to slip through.


    I leapt up and tried to grab the sill.  Barely missed the first time but, after waiting to make sure nobody came to investigate the noise my failed attempt made, on a second try I leapt up and grabbed the windowsill with both hands, and then slipped my right hand up to push the screen open.  It popped out of the frame and clattered to the ground.  I cursed silently and held my breath, but this noise did not seem to bring anything, either, so I pulled myself up and eased through the opening.  It was a tight squeeze, but I managed and slid to the floor.  I took a minute to catch my breath and then I began creeping through the mini mansion, looking for a way upstairs.

 Chapter Fifteen: A Botched Rescue.

    Thanks to The Spider hacking into the burner phone I gave Carol Mercotti, I had reason to believe she was being held hostage in her own home, so, being the wise and dutiful cop I am, I broke in to rescue her.  Well, that and it seemed the Mercottis knew enough judges to make getting a warrant problematic at best.


    So, I knew this might mean my badge, but if I could save Carol, at least, it would be worth it.  I did not stop to think that the critter that kidnapped her is likely far more powerful than I am, nor what kind of people might have the ability to control both it and a large chunk of the government; my only concern was that a friend (who had once been more than that) was in trouble and needed rescuing.


    This wing seemed nearly deserted.  I suspected it was built to house staff, and the Mercottis kept minimal staff, so likely only used three or four of the rooms here.  The one I had entered was a small bedroom, neat but dusty. I passed two identical rooms as well as a water closet, then the hall opened into an open area that looked like a lounge of some sort.  Stairs led down, while another open passage beyond led to the main part of the building.


    I peeked through the opening and saw no signs of life.  I did see the bay window that my little friend Patrick had claimed an ¡°ape thing had brought the pretty lady¡± into the house through.  The area was dark, but I could make out what looked like stairs up through a distant opening.  I started creeping through the room and almost made it to said opening, when¡­


    A light behind me came on.


    I spun around and saw Domenic Mercotti standing there, with a twisted smile on his face.  ¡°So, we meet again, Jack Diamond!¡± He announced, quite needlessly.


    I stood up straight and turned to face him: ¡°It does sort of look that way.  Say, I left my matchbook here when I stopped by this morning.  You did not happen to see it?¡±


    ¡°Did you honestly think you could slip past Zoligahr the Beast, Lord of the Hunt, so easily?¡± He said, his voice suddenly much deeper than before.


    I frowned. ¡°Well, when you put it that way, it does seem kind of silly.  Now, about those matches?¡±


    He roared - literally roared - at me; his head had somehow become that of the creature that took Carol earlier, but his body still looked like Dom¡¯s. ¡°It is a shame that blood shed before the ritual could screw things up and let more than we need through or I would end you now.  Please hand me your firearm so I do not have to rip your arms off.¡±


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    ¡°Well,¡± I replied, reaching for my sidearm, ¡°since you asked so nicely¡­¡±


    I tried to muscle him out of the way and draw my piece but hitting him with my shoulder felt like slamming into a wall; he casually grabbed me by that same shoulder and hurled me across the room like a rag doll.  I slammed against a wall, and then just set my gun down on the floor.  If it could toss me around like that, best case bullets would only annoy it, worst case they would bounce and maybe do some damage to others in the building, so turning over my piece seemed like the best dumb idea out of far too many dumb ideas today.


    Not sure if he summoned them or the noise attracted them, but two men suddenly rushed into the room, and his head promptly reverted to Dominic¡¯s.  He told the men ¡°Take him upstairs.  He wanted to see Carol so badly, give them a few final moments together.


    The men were Old Man Mercotti¡¯s security goons, I realized.  Heck, I even knew one of them, a Wendell something.  Very serious guy, great poker face.  He was not the one who grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to my feet; he was the one who held a gun on me.


    As we started up the stairs to the attic, I thought ¡°aha!  My gut was right about one thing at least!¡± And noticed that Dominic or whatever he was now, was heading back downstairs, and I called out: ¡°Hey, Dom, one question - back at the restaurant, you told me to call you if I could not take out ¡®the animals who killed Linda¡¯ or something like that.¡±


    He stopped and turned back to me with a bemused smile.  ¡°Yes, I did.¡±


    ¡°Even though you are one of those animals?¡±


    His smile widened. ¡°Yes.  I wanted to see if you had the spirit to be a good quarry or not.  So far, my only disappointment is that I have to wait to kill you.¡±


    I was not sure what to say about that, so just shrugged and let the goons handle me as Dominic headed back downstairs.


    This line didn''t work for Steve Martin, but I figured what the heck: ¡°Okay guys, how much is he paying you?  What say I double it, and we go beat him up?¡±


    I felt a gun pressed to my ribcage. ¡°You¡¯re a cop.  You don¡¯t have that kind of money.¡±


    ¡°I have some bearer¡¯s bonds¡­¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡±


    Figuring I should go for broke, I asked: ¡°One last question - why am I still alive?¡±


    Wendell actually answered that one: ¡°because too much blood is as bad as too little.  Rest assured, when the window closes, you will die.¡±


    ¡°You know, somehow that is a little reassuring.¡± And, surprisingly, it was.


    After that, I figured it might be a good idea to keep my mouth shut.  It wasn''t easy.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Attic

    Our happy little trio climbed the stairs to the attic in silence.  The room was dimly lit by sputtering light bulbs.  I almost asked if they bought them that way.  In addition to a bunch of old clothes and furniture, there was a large object that looked like some kind of stone chest.  I did not get a good look at it because, leaning against it, was Carol.  Her arms were zip tied behind her back, she was gagged, and she was clearly shaken up but did not seem badly hurt otherwise.


    ¡°Hi Carol.  I came to rescue you,¡± I told her.  Her glare showed about the same level of skepticism that I felt for this plan.


    Wendell said: ¡°Tie him up quickly and let''s get her downstairs for the ceremony.¡±


    ¡°We sure we should leave him here with that?¡± The Other Goon (trademark?) asked, waving vaguely at the stone chest.


    ¡°Why not?  Nobody has managed to open it since what, 1927?  Even if he gets loose, what chance has he got?¡± Wendell replied.


    TOG looked a little skeptical but nodded agreement.  He zip tied my hands and then tied up my arms and legs with bits of rope.  That task completed, he casually lifted Carol up on one shoulder like a sack of flour.  He held her arms against her so that when she tried to kick, she had no real leverage and all she could do was throw his balance off a little.  I had to admire her spirit.  And his ability to maintain his balance, despite being a little wobbly, with the equivalent of a hundred and twenty squirming pounds of potatoes on one shoulder.


    I got to enjoy the Thugs and Victim show for about half a minute before they were far enough down the stairs to be out of sight.  I then counted to thirty to make sure nobody was coming back immediately.


    You see, their plan to tie me up would have been a good one, except for two little details.  First, while most kids were flipping burgers or doing paper routes for spending money, I was helping mom¡¯s brother out with his stage show, and my uncle was The Amazing Andori, Master Escapologist.  I learned a lot of his tricks, even subbed for him a few times when, after his wife left him, he was too drunk or hungover to do the show, so I knew all about tensing my muscles and even voluntarily dislocating some joints - getting my upper arms out of the ropes was simple enough to use my police training - the other detail they overlooked - to snap the zip ties off.  With both arms free, it was simplicity itself to untie my legs.


    Getting loose took roughly ninety seconds.  I had considered just following them down, but then remembered that Dominic had my sidearm.  There was going to be a lot of paperwork to fill out over that, I mused sourly, but more immediately it meant that I was unarmed.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Something drew my attention to the big stone chest Carol had been leaning up against.  It felt almost like a magnetic pull.  It had massive brass hinges that seemed somehow fused into the stone at the back and what looked like a combination lock - but one with symbols instead of numbers or letters; six dials with what looked like a dozen symbols on each - embedded in the front.  I sighed and turned away to look for something else to use as a weapon when something flashed in front of my eyes.


    A vision of six symbols in a row.


    ¡°No, it couldn¡¯t be¡­¡± I said aloud to nobody in particular and turned back to the chest.


    What do you know - I saw three of the symbols right off the bat.


    I turned the first dial to the image I had seen and heard a loud click.  ¡°Sonofa¡­¡¯ I muttered under my breath (and no, I did not finish the statement; I censored my thoughts then so I would not have to censor my text now.  You are welcome).


    I turned the second one to match the vision and heard a faint ¡°whirring¡± noise.  The third dial stopped the whir with another loud click.  The fourth triggered the whirring again.  Another click accompanied the fifth moving into place.  I took a deep breath and turned the sixth dial to match what I had seen.


    Everything went dead silent, no click, buzz, whir or jazz numbers.  Then a seam opened along the top of the chest, and it just popped open.


    For almost a full second, I found myself paralyzed with either shock that this had worked or fear of what I might find inside - but then I remembered that Carol was depending on me, and the hope that inside it I might find something that would give me an edge against whatever I would find downstairs galvanized me.


    At first glance, the contents of the chest were unimpressive. The bulk of its contents were a bunch of old papers, including three books that looked like journals.  There were, however, five items amongst the papers that seemed to call to me.


    The first was a belt of old brown leather.  The buckle looked like a bronze dial with a mountain pointing up at the center position.  The other four items were paired sets.  The first was a set of old leather boots, thigh high, flat heeled boots, with the only distinguishing feature being what looked like a gold embossed wing on each side.  The other was a set of gloves - or maybe more properly gauntlets.  They were made from a reddish, heavy cloth with brass plates covering the fingers.  One additional line of brass ran down from the middle finger to the wrist, widening into a circle midway; the circle showed a stylized flame in the center.


    No swords, no guns, just odd clothing.


    Well, when in Rome¡­


    The belt replaced my old black leather one nicely, actually even fit a little better.  The boots slipped easily over my shoes and felt almost as if they had been tailor made to fit me.  I slipped my hand into one glove, and it actually looked like the blasted thing was resizing itself to fit.  I was about to slip on the second one when I heard a sound behind me.


    I turned around as Vito Mercotti spoke: ¡°I just remembered what you did back during those summers - I even saw you fill in for your, ah, uncle, I think it was, once,¡± he informed me.  The firearm in his hand was at least as eloquent as his words.

 Chapter Seventeen: Bits and Pieces

    After using skills from my misspent youth to escape some ropes, I somehow managed to open an old stone box, and was looting its contents when Vito Vercotti surprised me by showing that he remembered me from high school after all.


    That and he had snuck up on me, but the being remembered part surprised me more.  I turned partially towards him, wearing the boots and belt I had found in the chest, with one glove on my left hand and my right bare.


    He held a gun but was not pointing it anywhere.  I frowned but slipped the other glove on before turning full around to face him.


    ¡°Care to fill in any blanks for me, Vito?¡± I asked.


    He shook his head.  ¡°You opened the Witch Hunter Chest.  The last time that happened was when Reginald Price opened it in nineteen twenty-seven and removed three items, two of which - a ring and a sword - were confiscated by the Nazis in Germany a few years later, but the book, the Daemonorium, he hid and passed down to his son¡­¡±


    ¡°That son being Morgan Price?¡± I asked.


    He nodded, then, a touch of sadness in his voice, said: ¡°Look, I really hate to sacrifice Carol this way but her sister put up too much of a fight and if we fail to complete the ritual tonight, some things will escape that are best not imagined, while if we do complete the ritual¡­ well, it might be worth losing her.¡±


    ¡°Color me skeptical - though you really do seem to care about her, and I know she cares about you,¡± I informed him.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, sadly, ¡°she has been losing interest in me the more time I spend working.  Ironically, I started doing it for her but work pretty much took over my life.  When I saw you at our house, I thought maybe she had taken on a lover, and felt a little relieved at the thought, though it hurt a bit too,¡± he confessed.


    Of all the strange things I had seen so far while on this case, that one may have caught me the most off guard.


    ¡°So, trouble in paradise then?¡± I asked.


    His frown deepened.  ¡°Yes, and I am going to have to ask you to do what I must as well - try to forget Carol ever existed.  In less than half an hour she will be dead anyway.¡±


    I was about to protest when he interrupted: ¡°Those boots, I know what they are supposed to be able to do - I know nothing about the rest of it.  They are called ¡®The Messenger¡¯s Boots¡¯ and allegedly first belonged to the high priest of Hermes in Athens.  They increase your speed at moving around and allow you to walk on water or air.  Not exactly flight, like in the movies but walking.  Test them out and see,¡± he added.


    I narrowed my eyes, and he waved at me (gun still in hand, still not pointing at anything in particular).  I shrugged and took a few steps.  The first one was normal, but then I seemed to accelerate with each successive step.  I had to put out my hands to keep from slamming into the far side of the attic.


    I turned around and, more carefully this time, stepped up¡­ then stepped up with the other boot.


    ¡°Son of a¡­¡± this time I did complete the phrase and am censoring the text.  So, I have a thing for honesty¡­


    I walked back to where Vito was standing without touching the ground.  I was only moving at the speed I would normally walk, but I was walking on the air!


    I stepped down in front of him. ¡°So the boots work as advertised.  Now what?¡±


    ¡°You take one of the clothing racks, break out a window and get the Hell out of here, using the boots to get down to the ground and then run to your car.  Or maybe you can get farther with the boots than you can with that old wreck.¡±


    ¡°And just forget that Carol ever existed?¡± I replied.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    His sadness was clear when he answered me with a curt nod: ¡°And just forget that Carol ever existed.  As I must do, as much as it pains me.¡±


    ¡°What is worth that price?¡± I asked him, moving to his side.


    ¡°Power and immortality. We will control this city within the week, and eventually, the world as its undying rulers,¡± came the answer.


    ¡°Will you be like your brother?¡± I asked.


    He gave me a puzzled look. ¡°Dominic?  What about him?¡±


    Surprised at the question, I said: ¡°He turns into some kind of ape thing with wings, bat ears, a wolf¡¯s head and what looked like a shark¡¯s fin on his back.¡±


    Vito was surprised by this.  Even more surprised than I had been when I saw Domenic change.  ¡°Either Price betrayed us and transposed him, or one of the demons got out last night despite our best efforts, and took him over.  Damn.¡±


    I could not tell if he was angry, scared or ¡­ something else, maybe frustrated.


    ¡°Look, Vito, I think you have been straight with me here, at least as straight as I think you can be, so I really hate to do this¡­¡± I said, as I cold cocked him. The gloves worked just like brass knuckles, and he went down for the count with a single blow.


    ¡°Hopefully, you and Carol will both thank me for this later,¡± I told his unconscious form.


    Then I had a thought - if the boots can do what he said, maybe these other toys have special features too.  The belt buckle looked like a dial, so I tested it and turned it clockwise.  The room seemed to get smaller, more cramped - or maybe I was getting larger?  Looking at Vito¡¯s body, I was pretty sure of the latter.  So, would turning it the other way make me smaller?


    I tested it - back at the center, or neutral - position I resumed my normal size and as I turned it counter-clockwise, I did not get smaller but I did notice my skin seemed to darken, and then turn grayish, and the floor began to creak as if under a heavy weight. I took a step and saw a literal crack in the floorboard as my foot came down, very loudly.  I tapped the exposed flesh of my arm and heard a ¡°clunking¡± sound, as if I were tapping metal against ceramic.  I could still move normally but my body seemed to have somehow become stone.


    I returned the dial to the neutral position and looked at the gloves.  No dials or buttons but there was that flame thing so I tapped the one on my left hand with my right forefinger, and the metal part of the glove began to glow.  It gave off about as much light as a candle.  Useful but not very impressive - but glowing brass knuckles are still brass knuckles, right? I relieved Vito of his gun and headed down the stairs.  At the bottom, I could hear faint chanting and did my best to stealthily follow the sound.


    As I closed in on the source of the sounds, I also became aware of some odd smells - burning wax and some other, herbal smells, like some sort of spices being burned.


    The smells and sounds distracted me a little and, as I turned a corner I almost literally collided with Wendell.  He made a surprised sound and threw a punch I just barely blocked with a glowing glove.  He yelled in pain and staggered back, giving me a chance to turn the dial on my belt counter-clockwise.  He swung his other fist at me and managed to connect with my jaw.  The force of the blow made me take a step back, but beyond that I felt nothing.  Wendell, on the other hand, well, it looked like he had actually shattered his wrist.  On my jaw.  I was starting to really like this belt.


    I swung my fist with the glowing glove at him¡­ and saw what looked like flames on the metal parts.  I hit him on the chin, then followed up with a jab to the gut with my other hand.  He doubled over and I hit him in the back of the head with both hands and the butt of the gun in a downward smash.


    No flames this time; maybe it had just been my imagination.


    On a whim, I touched the flame emblem on the right glove and it, too, began to glow like a candle.


    The Other Goon (?) had apparently been assigned to stand watch nearby and he hurried over to investigate the noises his partner had been making.  He skidded to a stop just at the far edge of my reach, and fumbled for his gun.  I swung a fist at him, hoping the shock of the action would hold him in place long enough for a glancing blow but what actually happened surprised me at least as much as it did him - the metal did, indeed, erupt into flames, but as the arc of my punch ended, the flames continued on, leaping from my arm to him!


    His tie, likely a cheap synthetic, burst into fire at their touch!


    He staggered back, dropped his firearm, and then showed a level of intelligence that surprised me as he fell to the ground and began to roll around on his chest to extinguish the flames. It worked.  It also left him vulnerable to a blow to the base of the skull, sending him off to join Vito and Wendell in dreamland.


    I suspect I also broke his nose, given the amount of blood, and briefly hoped it was nothing more serious than that.  Would need to get some ambulances out here when this was over.  But for now, I had to deal with the heart of the matter and hope I was in time to prevent Carol¡¯s sacrifice.


    I opened the door that seemed to be between where the two thugs had been stationed.  The strange smells and stranger chanting both became stronger.  I checked that the gun was loaded and that the stairs could hold my increased weight and then set off to face the unknown¡­

 Chapter Eighteen: The Ritual

    Flickering lights from below made me feel as if I were descending into the Inferno itself.  The odd collection of smells and bizarre chanting did nothing to dispel that image.


    I was almost to the bottom of the stairs when a voice, this time in English for the most part, cut through the chanting.  It was a strong voice, one I had heard before, except now it had an odd, gurgling echo as if something inside it were repeating every word it said.


    The voice of Morgan Price intoned: ¡°The Pathway has been established; the Sacrifice is made ready.  Prepare, oh great Lord Tenjgrath, Ruler of the Void, to come to us and grant us a taste of your vast power so we may ease your eternal loneliness!¡±


    Several other voices repeated this.


    Then the words that spurred me into motion came: ¡°Let her blood open the Vortex so that you may enter our world!¡±


    I burst out onto a scene that was more bizarre and marginally less terrifying than what my imagination had put together.  In addition to the expected players - Morgan Price, old man Mercotti, Dominic Mercotti, Carmine Gorman, and Vincent Dacosta, I also recognized Mayor Carlton Scanlon, Justice Carlos Santiago and Police Commissioner Nathaniel Whelan.  Santiago was the only real surprise - for the first six of his nine years on the local bench, he had been one of the fairest and most honest judges in the city.  Then, suddenly, he changed - he started letting connected suspects skate on warnings or minimal fines while the less fortunate had the book thrown at them.  There were rumors of an investigation into his behavior being initiated, when suddenly he was appointed to fill a vacancy on the state Supreme Court.  And now he was here¡­This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Dominic stood off to the side; each of the other men except Morgan Price stood at different points of what looked like a seven-pointed star carved into the floor.  At the center was a seven faced stone slab with the flat side facing the stairs I had just come down.  On top of the slab, spread eagled with her hands and legs in metal cuffs built into the stone, was Carol.  She was still gagged, but somehow they had put her into a white dress of some sort, a dress that was already torn and stained from her constant struggling.


    Flying - yes flying! - above her with what looked like a whirlwind surrounding his useless, shriveled legs and supporting his portly torso, was antiques dealer Morgan Price.  In one hand he held a wicked looking dagger with a wavy blade that looked serrated on one side.  The other held an ancient book of some sort.  I was not sure then and even now, but it looked like he had a third arm that showed up to turn the page but then vanished.


    In front of the slab - altar? - I saw something that looked mostly like a wolf, but with longer legs, dark red fur, and smoke coming from its nostrils.  I had a strong hunch this was the source of the wound that so distressed our Medical Examiner, though I somehow doubted she would accept my word on this matter at the moment.


    Heck, I was not sure that I would accept my word on the matter at that moment.


    Anyway, seeing this tableau (see?  I did pay attention in English class.  Or was that art class?), I knew I had to do something¡­ so I did what felt right, and natural, and fully bone-headed.


    I charged down the stairs, and, in my loudest voice, declared: ¡°all right, everyone, hands in the air.  You are all under arrest!¡±


    At least I got their attention¡­

 Chapter Nineteen: Death Duel with Dominic

    Seeing Carol on some sort of altar, apparently about to be sacrificed, galvanized me into action - action that probably seemed insane, and probably was, but it was the best I could think of at the moment - I demanded all nine figures in the room surrender as I was placing them under arrest.


    Part of this was due to cop training, part due to desperation and part due to the fact that, over the sounds of the ritual, I had heard sirens in the distance.  Maybe there was a fire nearby, or maybe there was a car chase through downtown that was heading into the nicer areas on the outskirts. Or maybe my brief moment of optimism would be justified and that was my partner rushing in with reinforcements.


    I simply did not have time to wait, so I bellowed out ¡°Everyone, hands in the air, you are all under arrest.  Ten heads turned to face me.  One of them, a man I had known as Domenic Mercotti for some time now, snarled and said, ¡°I will deal with this fool.¡±


    Price resumed his chanting but the odd, gurgling voice spoke over him: ¡°Remember, you had too few men and she spilled your blood too early for this to work last night!¡±


    Then I heard Mauricio¡¯s voice: ¡°Be careful - it looks like the idiot opened the Witch Hunter¡¯s Chest!¡±


    Again, every face in the room that had been looking elsewhere glanced at me.  I was starting to feel popular.  That or like I had a bit of spinach in my teeth.


    As Domenic moved towards me, I got to witness his change again - he got taller, hairier, bat wings sprouted from his back, his head did the bat-wolf thing.


    ¡°One question first, Dom,¡± I said, as nonchalantly (OK I had to look that one up) as I could.  ¡°Do I have a piece of spinach stuck between my teeth?¡±


    In a deep voice as monstrous and inhuman he had become, the thing that had been Domenic Mercotti bellowed: ¡°Zoligahr grows tired of your constant prattling little man.  I will shut that mouth, permanently.¡±


    It was at that moment that I remembered that I was still holding the gun I had taken from Vito.  I quickly flicked the safety off and fired two shots into the charging monster.  One hit it in the chest, the other struck an arm and ricocheted off the bone, embedding itself in a wall.  The second wound closed up almost instantly.  The first one made a nice hole, gave me a brief glimpse of very dark blood and what might have been an internal organ, and then began to shrink.  It was almost gone in the space of a second, and then the bullet, covered in black or very dark red blood, popped out with a squishing sound barely audible over the chanting.and plunked to the floor.  He was close enough to swipe at me with a claw, and bellowed in my face.  The roar was loud and painful, the breath even worse.


    ¡°Zolly, has anyone ever told you about breath mints?  I should have a few in my pocket,¡± I said, trying to be helpful, as always.


    It roared even closer to me this time - a roar clearly meant to distract me as it sprouted tentacles from each arm - a neat trick, I must admit - and proceeded to wrap them around me as it ¡°spoke¡±: ¡°Zoh - Lih - Gar! Not ¡®Zolly¡¯!¡± It roared in my face.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    It had one leg bound and was trying to pin one arm against my body - the other was too busy swinging at it to be caught so easily.  The flaming glove hit it on the side of the face, and burned an imprint of my fist into the gray fur.


    It roared wordlessly this time, and one tentacle tried to pull me one way while the other pulled the opposite direction and I wound up slamming into the ground.


    That would¡¯ve hurt badly, probably ending the fight then and there, except I had already turned the dial on the belt as far as it would go on the ¡°turn to stone¡± side.  I did more damage to the concrete than was done to me, but the impact still hurt, and the follow-up attack, as Zoligahr tried to jump on top of me and rend me with both hand and leg claws, probably would have killed me, despite his apparent boss¡¯s warnings, if I hadn¡¯t immediately rolled to the side and thrust in its general direction with a flaming fist.  As before, the fire leapt from my hand and shot at the monster.  This time there seemed to be quite a bit more of the flame and it engulfed the creature¡¯s left leg from knee to waist.  The tentacle on the left arm withdrew as the hand closest to it grew larger and more flipper-like and began parting out the flames.


    I took the opportunity to try one of the martial arts moves I had been taught at the academy, and, for the first time ever, managed to pull off a successful ¡°instant stand¡± - pretty sure it didn¡¯t look as cool or fluid as in the movies (or even what my instructors did), but I was impressed.  I pulled back to deliver a punch to Zoligahr when I suddenly felt something attach to my arm.  I looked down and saw the wolf-thing had joined the fray and had my elbow in its smoldering jaws.  ¡°Fighting fire with fire, eh?¡± I asked it.  It just growled and continued trying to bite and burn through my arm, but as it was pretty much stone by now, the dumb doggie was just scratching it and ruining my shirt.


    ¡°Bad doggie!¡± I yelled and bapped it on the nose with my open palm.  It yelped and let go.  Before I could think of a follow-up move, what felt like six hundred pounds of furry muscle slammed into me and slid me back almost ten feet to impact against a wall. Domenic had been a fairly successful linebacker in high school, and apparently this thing retained some of his skills; that coupled with its insane strength meant I felt that blow, and it almost knocked the wind out of me.  It did knock me off balance, and again I crashed to the ground after bouncing off the wall.  This time I tried the instant stand thing but just kind of flopped like a fish.  I did manage to roll off to the side as Zoligahr tried to smash me into the ground with a double fisted strike.


    Fighting him up close was getting me nowhere, and the only thing that seemed to hurt him was fire - the leg still showed some blistering, and the fur was still gone, while the fur where I had punched it was still singed.  Then I saw the doggie thing charging at me, flames coming out of its mouth and nostrils, and a thought that I knew I was going to later hate myself for started forming in my head¡­


    Dredging up decades old memories of my once promising career as a shortstop, I rolled away, and dove for the dog, landing, as I had hoped but honestly not really expected (yeah, my career had not really been all that promising) very close to the canine¡¯s hindquarters, then surged to my feet and grabbed the beast by his haunches.  Using his forward momentum plus my own increased strength, I began spinning like a shot putter.  Zolly gamely chose to charge at me and suddenly found roughly a hundred pounds of flaming dog slamming into his chest at high velocity.


    It was hard to tell which scream was louder - the dog thing''s as it breathed its last, Zoligahr''s as his thick fur ignited at the impact, Zolly''s next scream as he slammed against the wall, apparently pulverizing every bone in his body, mine, as I discovered that only the gauntlets were fireproof and that I had to suddenly remember how to ¡°stop, drop, and roll¡± myself¡­


    Or the joint scream of Morgan Price and his gurgling echo of ¡°NOOOOO!  Not again!¡±

 Chapter Twenty: Some Arresting Developments

    While rolling around on the floor, trying to extinguish some stubborn flames, three things intruded on my senses:


    First, there were seven¡­ I do not really know what to call them - I would say ¡°lights¡± but one was jet black and seemed to absorb light - that just appeared in midair and then rushed out of the room


    Second, there was now a sound of pounding from upstairs, accompanied by the much louder siren, as well as general panic in the room.


    Third was that odd gaggling voice seeming to talk directly to my brain: ¡°You meddling fool, I will remember you, Jack Diamond, and you WILL suffer.¡±


    I would have made a witty retort, but there was a sudden sound like a thunderclap and Morgan Price and his wheelchair were both gone


    The flames were out now, and I noticed one other person in the room did not seem to be in a blind panic. Carmine Gorman had come over to where I was and helped me to my feet.


    ¡°Jack, I had nothing to do with Linda and I can help you here.  Carol will never forgive me, but I can take that.  I know most of what happened here and in the restaurant.¡±


    I wanted to tell him he deserves to swing with the others but instead I asked: ¡°Those seven lights, do you know what they were?¡±


    He went pale: ¡°S-seven?  I only saw three but yes, unfortunately I know what they are.¡±


    I wondered for about three seconds then said: ¡°Okay.  You were my inside man, feeding me information in the hopes that I would be able to save your darling daughter, got it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I got it.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Carol, you know how to get her out of those cuffs?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°You have the Girdle of Antaeus and the Gauntlets of Hephaestus.  They were made to confine mortals, as long as you are careful not to burn her, snapping them open should be a breeze.¡±


    Well, he already gave me potentially useful information.  Maybe this was not such a bad deal after all.


    I walked over to where she was bound to the altar.  ¡°I am going to try to be careful here, but I can¡¯t make any promises.  Hold very still.¡±


    ¡°Jack, why is your skin gray?¡± she asked, but I pretended not to hear.


    I grabbed the band holding her right hand in place and, as carefully as I could, pried it open.  It snapped and made a sizzling sound as it fell off of her arm.  As I moved to the left arm, I said: ¡°Ask your dad, he seems to know more about this than I do.¡±


    I quickly got her out as cops started swarming the place.  I managed to get the belt buckle to the neutral position and slipped out of the gloves, which folded up into a surprisingly small bundle, before anyone got to our position.


    Fortunately, it was Milt who got there first: ¡°Jackie, any chance you can tell me what happened here in a way that is not going to make me feel well both need some time in a padded cell?¡±


    ¡°Might be a nice vacation at that,¡± I mused. ¡°But no.  I think we can get the real story together with Carol and her dad and then come up with something believable from it, though.¡±


    He met my gaze for a full second before speaking again: ¡°Damn, kid you sure know how to draw a good first case.  Mine was just a murdered prostitute who tried to keep money from her pimp.¡±


    Then Carol pulled me away: ¡°Jack, I do not know how exactly, but you saved me from something horrible.  You deserve a reward.¡±


    I was half expecting some cash but the kiss she laid on me was worth more than our combined weight in gold. She stuck to my side as we worked with her dad to construct a story that kept the cult angle but left out the monsters and the weird gear from the Witch Hunter¡¯s Chest.


    Outside, everyone was being loaded into squad cars; Vito was one of the last to be hauled off, and Carol walked up to him with fire in her eyes.


    ¡°You saved her, Jack,¡± Vito said, managing to finish just before her slap landed.  I felt it from almost twenty feet away.


    ¡°I deserved that,¡± he said when he could talk again.  As they pushed him down into the seat, Carol said ¡°And I plan to get a divorce.¡±


    He just nodded and repeated: ¡°You saved her, Jack.¡± And then the door closed, and the parade of squad cars headed downtown.

 Chapter Twenty-One: No Good Deed…

    I was headed into the station the next morning when Milt caught me at the door.  ¡°Come on, I¡¯m buying you coffee.¡±


    I trailed him, he ordered and actually paid so I knew it was bad news.  As soon as we were seated, he said:


    ¡°Well, we now have an ¡®official story'' and I don''t like it but, what are you going to do, eh?


    ¡°Old Man Mercotti and Vinnie Dacosta came up with the cult thing as a scam to get money out of the others.  Santiago was their first victim, and he took it to heart, finding some old texts justifying the stories Mauricio and Vinnie made up.  Vito and Dominic were unwilling participants, and Domenic even was working with Gorman to help us but did not know how to use an acetylene torch so set himself on fire when he tried to free Carol.¡±


    I considered this a moment. ¡°Hmm, all neat with a bow on it, but no mention of Price or the mayor?¡±


    Milt let out a bitter chuckle and said: ¡°Price just left the station.  Somehow, he has proof - and over a dozen witnesses - that he and the mayor were having a late dinner last night at Del Bianchi when the cops burst in and grabbed Mayor Scanlon, probably as a protest against proposed budget cuts.


    ¡°Screwiest thing is, most of the other cops who were there agree with this story.  You and I know better but, well, Jack, I just put in for my retirement.  Next Friday is my last day,¡± he said, sadly.


    ¡°...and the mayor is asking for my resignation or termination?¡± I offered, bitterly.


    ¡°Jack, you have the instincts to be a great cop, and I¡¯m sorry your first case turned out to be your last,¡± he said, and I could tell he meant every word.  I was actually touched by this.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s not so bad.  I''ll land on my feet, and somehow, someday, I will bring down Morgan Price.  With or without the law behind me," I assured him with a confidence I almost felt myself.


    Milt smiled at this.  ¡°Good on you, kid.  Oh, there was a half-filled-out form making Carmine Gorman your CI?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, slipped in last night and filled out what I could,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Good.  You know, nobody''s found that acetylene torch you and Domenic used.  Does that have anything to do with those funky gloves you had on when I first saw you there, but which seemed to vanish soon after?¡±


    ¡°Now that would be withholding evidence, Milt.  We would never do a thing like that, would we?¡± I replied.


    His smile broadened.  ¡°Kid, I think you have a bright future ahead.  Maybe some hard water to navigate to get to it, but you are on the right path.  Just wish we could do something about that rat of a mayor.¡±


    ¡°In two years, he is up for re-election.  Maybe we can throw him out of office then,¡± I suggested.


    ¡°You planning to run against him, kid?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I was thinking you are not the type to take retirement lightly and will be looking to do something to help our city.  And you would definitely have the support of the policeman¡¯s union¡­¡±


    He looked at me over his coffee.  He looked like he wanted to laugh but the more he thought about it the less funny it sounded.


    Finally, he spoke: ¡°Mayor Cranmore does have kind of a ring to it.  You might just be on to something, kid.¡±


    He stood up and I followed suit.  I held out a hand to shake but he pulled me in for an embrace instead. ¡°Take care of yourself, Jackie my boy, and Carol too.¡±


    ¡°I will try my best, and I will keep in touch,¡± I replied,


    He walked out of the diner, turning to wave goodbye at the door, and I gave him a salute in return, finished my coffee, and headed into the station house to tender my resignation.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Bits and Pieces of the Truth

    An hour later found me seated at the restaurant where this all began, in the front part this time.  Carmine Gorman was there with me, a fruit and bread plate between us, as Vito Mercotti brought a huge carafe or urn or whatever you call a humongous pot of coffee and three mugs out of the kitchen and joined us.


    Vito opened the discussion: ¡°So, since Dad fell on the sword to protect his kids, I spent the morning with a lawyer.  Carol gets everything but the house which I will sell, give her half the money, and use the other half to move as far away from here as I can.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a plan, Vito,¡± I replied, nodding approval.


    ¡°So, I was not there, but Vito was for Linda¡¯s death,¡± Carmine added.


    ¡°Yeah, Morgan decided we had to act early and that neither Carmine nor Lawrence would support killing Carmine¡¯s baby girl,¡± Vito began.  ¡°So, we came in when she was alone, Morgan set up some kind of warding system, while we rendered her unconscious and tied her up.  We did not do a very good job at either, though, as she somehow got free and beaned Danny Perone with a serving tray.  Hit him just right to force his nose into his brain, killing him instantly.  Most of the body should be at the old quarry a mile south of town.¡±


    Carmine suddenly laughed and we both looked at him as if he had grown a second head.  Which, for all I knew, could happen these days.


    ¡°You taught her that,¡± he said to me.  ¡°The rope escape.  You were trying to impress her sister and taught her some of your uncle¡¯s tricks!¡±


    Well, I¡¯ll be a monkey¡¯s uncle - I had forgotten all about that.  ¡°So I did,¡± I admitted.


    Vito resumed his story: ¡°With his death, we no longer had seven to cast the spell and a gray light shot out from nowhere.  It tried to get outside, but the wards held and apparently it took over Domenic instead.  When one of those things, for lack of a better word, let''s call them ¡®demons,¡¯ enters our world they immediately seek to get away from the ¡®breach point¡¯ and find a host.  If the intended host has a very strong will, it may be sent back or have to seek a new one.  If they have a weak will, like poor Dominic, the demon destroys their essence and takes over their body, wearing it as a disguise for several years before it just burns out and the demon returns home.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Carmine jumped in here: ¡°there is a third, far less common outcome - the demon finds the potential host so much like itself that they fuse into one being.  That happened about eight years ago when Morgan Price first tried to use the Daemonorium - he merged with a thing that calls itself ¡®Morgalis¡¯.¡±


    ¡°So that was the second voice I heard when he talked, the one that sounded kind of like it was gargling?¡± I asked, intrigued.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Hmm - and now seven more of these things are out there?¡± I commented, my mood taking a dive.


    Carmine sighed: ¡°I only saw three but yeah, it seems like it.  Can you describe what you saw? I might recognize some as I did a little research after Morgan showed me what he could do.¡±


    I closed my eyes and tried to remember the seven ¡°lights¡± - ¡°The first one looked like a ball of fire.  The second, a snowball.  One was like a lance of pure darkness.  The fourth one was like a spiky stone.  Number five looked like ball lightning.  The sixth looked like a black arrow with a red glow around it, and the last one looked like a shard of bone.¡±


    When I said this last one, Carmine looked horrified.  ¡°I - I recognize three of those and have met one.  Shargaas the ice demon was the thing Morgan called to prove his power to me - it¡¯s a nasty piece of work but also one of the most easily controlled of all demons; that was the second one you described.  The first one sounds like Conflar, the fire demon but I¡¯m not completely sure.  The last one, though, that one terrifies me more than anything else - it is definitely Alzol, the Death Demon, the source of the Grim Reaper myths, and the strongest of Morgalis¡¯s allies.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like I have my work cut out for me,¡± I said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Vito asked.


    ¡°Those things are free because of me.  I need to send them back where they came from,¡± I declared, even though I had no real idea how I would go about this.


    ¡°You can count on my support,¡± Gorman said.  ¡°I have a few old tomes and might be able to convince Morgan that I¡¯m feeding you bad information to stay out of jail, at least for a while.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m out of here.  I¡¯m done with all this magic stuff,¡± Vito said.  ¡°I wish you luck and success and ask you to take good care of Carol - I really do love her, but I have always loved power more.  Maybe now with nothing left, I¡¯ll be able to turn over a new leaf, be the man I should have been.  Or maybe it''s too late, but either way, I¡¯m out of here.¡±


    To illustrate this point, he got up, bid us both farewell, and left.  Carmine and I talked for a bit longer but really had nothing left to discuss so I decided to go break the news to Carol.

 Epilogue

    Back at my apartment, I related the morning¡¯s events to Carol.  She took it all in stride.


    ¡°So, what am I going to do now?¡± I wondered aloud, when I was done.


    Carol said: ¡°you could always become a private investigator.¡±


    ¡°Might help with the monster hunting but I¡¯m not sure it would pay the bills¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, I can take care of all that - I inherited most of the Mercotti fortune, remember?¡±


    I looked at her with one eyebrow raised.  ¡°That money won¡¯t last forever¡­¡±


    Undeterred, she continued: ¡°I grew up on those old novels, remember?  Chandler, Runyon, Gardner - and most of them had sexy secretaries to remind them when bills were due and to screen out some clients¡­¡±


    ¡°You are overqualified for that job,¡± I mused. ¡°But what¡¯s in it for you?¡±Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Oh I can help you with some investigations - I¡¯ll high tail it out when the fighting starts but I can be useful until then.  And there are at least three more artifacts out there - maybe some of them will help me help you more.¡±


    ¡°Still sounds like a bit of a one-sided deal, with everything coming out in my favor¡­¡± I mused.  ¡°There has to be more in it for you¡­¡±


    She moved closer, placing one of each of her slim hands on my shoulders. ¡°Ever hear about something called a ¡®kept man''?¡± She asked with a twinkle in her eye.


    I had heard the term, sure, but was curious to see where this was going.  ¡°I might have. Would you care to elaborate?¡±


    She giggled.  It was a cute giggle.  ¡°Well, I pay your expenses, and you pay me with little things like this,¡± and here she kissed my right cheek.


    ¡°Or maybe this,¡± as she planted another on my left.


    ¡°Or maybe even¡­¡± I didn¡¯t let her finish this one as my lips met hers.  It was as magical as it had been that first time, back when we were teens.  And I should know - I now have magic.


    What, you want more?  Maybe someday I¡¯ll stop being a gentleman and put the x-rated version out there somewhere.


    And, of course I did open an agency, and I do have more adventures.


    And there are more artifacts.  And monsters.


    But for now, well, I AM a kept man and the boss is calling¡­