20

“What the hell happened here?”

Nairo leapt out of the cab to a sea of blue tuniced officers standing around looking nonplussed.

“I ain’t seen this many coppers standing around doing nothing since… well yesterday morning,” Ridley said as he followed her out.

The normally docile street in Cumberley was roped off and there were white robed coroners already on the scene.

“Please,” Nairo whispered. “Not another body.”

She hurried to the police cordon and flashed her badge before ducking under the rope and making her way to the unobtrusive red brick house at the centre of the furor. Standing as immovably imperious as ever in front of the house was Corporal Charlie, his thick moustache bristling as he saw Nairo approach.

“Marm,” he said, tilting his head deferentially.

“Charlie, what the hell happened? Looks like half the precinct is here!”

First Charlie’s shoulders quivered, then his barrel chest vibrated, his almost non existent eyes disappeared into deep crinkles, and he let out a mighty booming laugh. From down the lane a gaggle of officers heard his laugh and broke out into their own. Soon the road was full of, chortling, guffawing, and howling police officers. All slapping each other on the backs and wiping tears from their eyes.

“What the…?” Ridley said as he looked around, a smoke paused on its way to his lips.

“It was… ohoooohhhooooohohohohoh! Edgewater and-and-and hhahahahahahaha… Washbottom!”

“Who?” Nairo said as she pieced together the names through his chortling.

“W-w-wash-hahahahahahahahha!” Charlie bent over double roaring with laughter.

“Corporal ship shape and stand to atten-shun!” Nairo barked at him.

Without missing a beat Charlie snapped to quivering attention, his arms straight by his side and his eyes fixed just above Nairo’s head, although tears still rolled down his face.

“What happened here, Corporal Nelson?” Nairo demanded.

Charlie cleared his throat.

“Corporal Edgewater and Washbottom, on a special mission from yourself marm, apparently.”

“From me?” Nairo thought for a moment. “Oh the little round officer outside the bank?”

“That would be Edgewater, marm.”

“What about him? I only sent them here to check on a person of interest. Why are there coroners here? Are they alright?”

Charlie let out a squeak of mirth and then gathered himself again.

“They put out a high alert marm.”

“They did what?”

“A 672, marm.”

“A what?” Ridley said.

“It’s a code,” Nairo said to him. “Certain codes alert all officers’ comm scrolls. A 672 is officer in dire peril.”

“Not just that, marm.”

“Oh no,” Nairo groaned.

“They put in a 68, a 222, 472, a 1298 and a 1988,” Charlie’s lips quivered with the effort of not bursting into a fresh gale of laughter.

“A 1298? Isn’t that a pig stampede?”

Charlie snorted but held himself together.

“And a 222 is officer in need of fresh trousers. Don't ask.” She said to Ridley. “And a 68 is a pheasant on the loose.”

Charlie roared with laughter again.

“I don’t even know what a 1988 is,” Nairo said, shaking her head.

“There isn’t one,” Charlie laughed. “Bloody Washbottom’s like a Troll with one eye when it comes to numbers. Reckon he just scratched out the lot, he was so panicked.”

Nairo sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“What had them so scared?” Ridley asked.

“Ahh well,” Charlie wiped tears from his eyes. “‘Fraid you won’t find that so funny marm.”

“Where’s the occupant of the house?” Nairo said hesitantly.

“Looks like someone’s done a spot of redecorating with him, marm.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t take him to shop for drapes and rugs?”

“No marm, they painted the walls with ‘im.”

Nairo groaned.

“Where’s the body?”

“That’s the thing, marm, there isn’t one.”

“What?”

“Coroner’s have been around the whole house not a sign of a body. We’ve even had the dog out.”

Nairo looked at Ridley.

“Think it’s best we take a look ourselves. Stay alert, Corporal.”

“Yes marm.”

Nairo and Ridley walked up to the house, the alloy tang of blood haunted the air, it was so thick Nairo could taste in the back of her throat before they even entered.

“Bloody hell,” Ridley breathed as they stepped through the front door.

Charlie hadn’t been exaggerating: there was blood everywhere.

“I didn’t think our mate Zimeon would have had this much blood in him,” Ridley said, nonchalantly lighting a smoke and dodging a puddle of drying blood.

“No,” Nairo said, looking around the scene.

The house was basically a tiny studio flat. Apart from the rivulets of blood, the place was sparse and told the story of a creature running on fumes. There was nothing to suggest a successful bank manager lived here. In the centre of the main room were streaks of blood. It was all over the walls, the windows, and even some on the ceiling.

“What did they do?” Ridley asked. “Burst him like a balloon?”

“If they did, there would be bits of him everywhere,” Nairo said looking around, trying to ascertain some sort of pattern to the blood.

One of the coroners walked through the house and nodded at them.

“Quite a scene we’ve got here,” he said cheerily.

“In my not so professional opinion, I’d say someone was killed in here,” Ridley replied, looking around the walls. “A couple of times.”

“Yeah, we got ourselves a juicy one here,” the coroner replied. “Do you know how many creatures lived here?”

Nairo looked up and realised that other than her and Ridley, and the two corporals they had sent here, no one knew this was De Woolf’s home.

“No sorry,” Nairo answered.

“Oh well,” the coroner shrugged. “Not my job to investigate anyway. And since there isn’t a body, we’ll be packing up and getting out of here.”

Nairo nodded and returned to looking around the house. She waited for the coroners to leave before she spoke.

“This is a set up, right?”

“I’d say what our bank manager lacks in experience he made up for in enthusiasm,” Ridley said. “He really wanted us to think he was dead.”

“Bit dramatic with the blood sprays wasn’t he?” Nairo said, noting how the blood looked like it had literally been sloshed on to the walls.

“I’ll give it to him though, it is creative,” Ridley replied.”Look, he’s even put slash marks on the wall.”

“So De Woolf’s alive?”

“I’d assume so. I’m thinking soon as he heard Benny was dead, he orchestrated this murder scene and did a runner. Did you notice some of his clothes were missing?”

“So you don’t think he killed Benny anymore?”

“Can’t have been him. He doesn’t know how to use a Diamond, but I still think he handed the Diamond over to Benny.”

“That I can believe,” Nairo said, looking at the pools of blood before sighing.

“We need to keep this quiet,” Ridley said to her.

“Why? We need to put out a high alert for…”

“It’s not that simple anymore,” Ridley said to her. “There’s something else going on here. Evidence is being hidden, reports are being falsified, all to smother the facts of what this Diamond is. And now with those EIF goons involved this whole case could suddenly disappear under red tape and court mandated gag orders. We need to find De Woolf ourselves and get the truth from him, before they can silence him.”

Nairo chewed the inside of her cheek.

“We can trust the Cap’n,” Nairo said.

“It’s not the Cap’n I don’t trust. It’s who pulls his strings, and who’s pulling their strings.”

“Here we go with the conspiracy nonsense again,” Nairo said, rolling her eyes.

“The coroner didn’t fabricate his report because of the Elves?” Ridley shot back at her.

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They locked eyes for a heated moment.

“All that confirms is that the Elves have been dishonest about the nature of the Diamond,” Nairo said slowly and carefully. “It does not prove they had anything to do with the theft of the Diamond or the murder of Benny.”

“And the only creature that could confirm that is De Woolf. If you were the Elves and you knew De Woolf could expose a truth that you're actively trying to hide, what do you think they would do to him?”

Nairo paused.

“I’m not asking you to break the law…” Ridley began.

“No, you’re just asking me to ignore the chain of command.”

“Exactly!” Ridley said with relief, not picking up on the irritated twitch on Nairo’s face.

“That’s called going rogue!” she snapped at him. “And that’s the exact reason that Conway ended up in the basement. I’m not going to throw away my career…”

“Screw your career!” Ridley growled at her. “Creatures are dying. What happened to justice?”

“Don’t act like you care about justice all of sudden. This is about you and your personal grudge against the Elves!”

They stopped and glared at each other, both knowing they were right, and both knowing they were wrong at the same time.

“48 hours,” Ridley said finally. “Just keep it between us for 48 hours. If we can’t track down De Woolf, then we’ll fill the Cap’n in on everything we know about the bank manager.”

Nairo sighed and then nodded.

“I guess I owe you that much.”

“You owe me more than that,” Ridley said.

Nairo shot him a look but didn’t rise to the bait.

“How do you know De Woolf is still in the city?” she said, changing the topic.

“I don’t,” Ridley muttered. “And all this damn blood is gonna make it hard to look for any clues.”

“Where did he even get this much blood? What do you think it is?”

Ridley looked at a puddle congealing on the tabletop top.

“Please don’t,” Nairo said, but it was too late.

He brought the finger to his mouth and licked it clean.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Nairo said, holding her stomach.

“Pig,” Ridley said after swirling the blood around his mouth and spitting it back out.

“You’re an expert on the different species of blood?”

“We can bring your vampyr mate in to confirm if you want?”

“He’s not a vampyr!” Nairo snapped at him.

Ridley ran his tongue over his teeth and looked around the dingy flat.

“He could be anywhere.”

“He could be, but he isn’t,” Nairo said. “We know he’s low on gold, if not completely broke, and he doesn’t have any family or even known associates. He has nowhere to go. On top of that, we know the Kith are looking for him, so any underground routes of leaving the city would probably be out of the question for him.”

“So he’s got nowhere to go, no resources to get there, and he’s been hunted by some of the nastiest villains in the city. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“Almost,” Nairo said. “Plus, I’m guessing Mr De Woolf isn’t exactly street smart, he wouldn’t know where to go or what to do.”

“Judging by this massacre, he couldn’t have left that long ago,” Ridley said, pointing to the puddles of oozing blood. “The blood hasn’t even dried.”

“So where would you go?” Nairo said, tapping her teeth.

She walked around the flat, dodging blood, trying to find something, a clue, a torn scrap of paper, the stub of a bus ticket… something.

“Who else knows about De Woolf?” Ridley asked as he pulled open the empty cupboards.

“No one. The officers that responded to the emergency codes don’t know who lived here.”

“What about tweedle dee and tweedle dumb?”

“Edgewater and Washbottom?”

Ridley snorted.

“Yeah, them two.”

“They’re out around the back, but all they know is that they were to bring him in for questioning.”

“But they know his name?”

“Yes.”

“And they know he was the bank manager?”

“Yes.”

“And they know it has to do with the bank robbery?”

“It wouldn’ require a tremendous amount of grey matter to join those dots,” Nairo said as she searched through the pockets of De Woolf’s suit jackets. “Damn it! There’s nothing here!” Nairo slammed the cupboard shut in frustration. “It’s like he doesn’t exist outside of the bank! Who doesn’t have any pictures, a diary, a contact book?”

“Creature that’s getting bled dry,” Ridley said coolly. “He probably sold anything of any worth a while ago, and when you move in the middle of the night, dodging landlords and debtors, you tend to only take what you can carry in your arms.”

“It’s disgusting what addiction does to a creature,” Nairo said, shaking her head. “I just can’t fathom how you can carry on doing it, even as it destroys your life.”

“Yeah it’s sad,” Ridley said absentmindedly as he continued to look through random drawers.

“Look at that poor girl in the RatHoles.”

“Sarita?”

“Yes. Poor girl. She could barely stand but I bet she took your coins and went straight to her dealer. It’s like they go so deep they just can’t see a way out.”

Ridley looked at her curiously.

“So they go deeper,” Ridley said.

“Exactly.”

“No… I mean yeah but what does an addict do when they hit rock bottom? They either get clean…”

“Or they go deeper!” Nairo finished.

“I bet De Woolf resurfaces to feed his habit,” Ridley said.

“Even while he’s on the run?”

“Especially. In his mind he’ll be spinning his last coins on his getaway fund.”

“So we don’t need to find him. We just wait for him to come out to gamble!”

“Exactly!”

“But how many gambling establishments are there in this city? Hundreds?” Nairo asked.

“Thousands.”

“Really?”

“Yep.

“So which one would he use?”

Ridley shrugged.

“There’s any number of dens of inequity that lost souls like De Woolf might visit.”

Nairo felt the hopelessness fall over her again. They had hit another wall in this investigation and they had barely got past the last one.

“We need to regroup,” Nairo said. “Reassess the facts and plan our next move.”

“Might as well, we’ve got nothing else useful to do,” Ridley said. “You reckon Conway could put together a list of all the known underground gambling dens for us?”

“Why just underground?” Nairo asked.

“Legit places need things like names and they write stuff down. Plus, just a hunch, but I reckon De Woolf’s probably been blacklisted from most of them.”

“Makes sense. I’ll send a comms to Conway and see what he can dig up.”

The rain had started again and was coming down in thick sheets, sluicing from rooftops and overwhelming gutters.

“Whatever we're going to do, we've got to wait out this rain,” Ridley said after looking out of the window.

“Agreed,” Nairo said, her scalp itched, and her clothes had begun to smell.

“We can go back to HQ,” Ridley said.

“Police HQ? Are you even allowed in there?”

“No, not the pig pen,” Ridley replied. “My HQ.”

“You have a HQ?” Nairo said, a mocking smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

“Of course, I do. Every PI worth his salt has a headquarters.”

“This headquarters wouldn't be on top of a takeout and double as your home would it?” Nairo asked, now grinning openly at him.

“No, it's not a takeout, and I only sleep when I'm too pissed to go home.”

“So, every night?”

“Beats paying double rent,” Ridley said. “Come on, let’s go deal with these divs and impress upon them the importance of keeping their mouths shut.”

“Let me do the talking,” Nairo said as Ridley strode towards the kitchen door. “Poor lads are spooked enough without having to deal with you as well.”

“Fine by me.”

Edgewater and Washbottom couldn’t have looked more pathetic with practice. The rain had cleared out the remaining officers and now they stood shivering under a crooked awning, sharing a threadbare blanket. They huddled together, their faces downcast like a pair of mutts who’d received a scolding. When the plumper of the two saw Nairo striding towards them, he attempted to pull himself to some sort of attention. This must be Edgewater. The thinner, angular one of the two, huddled deeper into his blanket and wiped his nose morosely on the back of his hand. He must be Washbottom, an apt name as Nairo had ever heard.

“M-m-marm,” Edgewater saluted, his teeth chattering. The poor sod was soaked to the bone.

Nairo squeezed under the awning while Ridley prowled around the edges of the cover glowering at Washbottom.

“Corporal Edgewater?” Nairo shouted over the rain.

“Yes marm!” Edgewater said, still holding his salute, the rain in his eyes making him blink like a spooked owl.

“At ease,” Nairo said dismissively. “And this is?”

“Corporal Washbottom, marm, he… ummm was assisting me, marm.”

Nairo looked over the pair of them with a mixture of dismay, sympathy, and a healthy dose of disgust.

“What kind of name is Washbottom?” Ridley snorted.

“It’s me name,” Washbottom said, wiping at his perennially running nose.

“What’s your first name?” Ridley said.

“Wally.”

Ridley burst out laughing.

“Enough Ridley,” Nairo snapped at him. “Corporal fall in line.”

Washbottom shuffled next to Edgewater, the dirty blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

“To attention,” Edgewater hissed at him.

Sullenly, Washbottom straightened up, his nose still running.

“Marm I have written full report…” Edgewater began tentatively thrusting forward a soggy sheaf of paper to her.

“That won’t be necessary,” Nairo said, waving him away. “I think I’ve got a handle on the situation.”

She eyed the two wet behind the ear, and everywhere else, recruits and couldn’t help but soften.

“This the first time you’ve seen something like this?”

With a stolen look between them, they both nodded glumly.

“Yes marm. Sorry marm… I s’pose we lost our heads a little bit,” Edgewater mumbled.

“All the lads are gonna think we’re a right pair of dozy twats now,” Washbottom moaned.

“Don’t worry,” Ridley said. “I’m sure they thought that already.”

“Ridley! This is police business. Go have a smoke or something.”

Ridley rolled his eyes and took a step away, fishing around in his pockets for a smoke.

“I’ll be honest boys, you’ve made a right pig’s ear of this,” Nairo said to them sternly and they nodded balefully in return.

“This assignment was top secret and you dragged half the force down here blabbing about how I sent you here.”

Again, they nodded.

“We’re sorry marm. We’ll do anything to make it up to you,” Edgewater said so earnestly that Nairo felt the sudden urge to smack him.

“I don’t need it made up to me. What I need is you not to make this situation any worse!”

“Yes marm,” they chorused.

“You are to maintain complete silence over this assignment, understood?”

“Yes marm.”

“You are not to speak to anyone about what you were doing here.”

“Yes marm.”

“That includes writing reports.”

“Yes marm.”

“When you are questioned about what happened here, you will admit you overreacted and due to your lack of inexperience you put out an emergency comm.”

“Yes marm.”

“If anyone should question why you were here, you will say you were following up on questioning and that is it.”

“Yes marm.”

“If they ask who you were questioning, you will play dumb and say you weren’t told. That should be easy enough for you. Understood?”

“Yes marm.”

“If I hear you’ve breathed even a syllable of my name or this case to anyone I’ll have your badges and your asses before you can blink. Understood?”

“Yes marm.”

“Good.”

“Yes mar…” Washbottom began before Edgewater elbowed him.

“Please marm, we’re terribly sorry, but if you give us another chance, we could prove useful to your investigation…”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nairo said, cutting him off.

“Yes marm,” Edgewater said, his head hanging like a scolded dog.

Again, Nairo felt herself softening at the patheticness of the pair.

“Fine. If you want to prove yourself, I need the area canvassed. I want neighbours questioned. Ask if they knew the suspect, ever spoken to him, was he acting strangely at all? Did they see or hear anything last night that was suspicious or unusual.”

“Yes marm!” Edgewater said, snapping out a reinvigorated salute. “Come on Wally!”

“What now?” Washbottom said. “It’s pissin’ do…”

“Yes now!” Edgewater said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out into the rain. “You can rely on us marm! And we’ll keep it real quiet marm and-and report back to you straight away!”

They bumbled back out into the rain, their bickering carrying over the storm as they disappeared into the haze.

“I like it when you get all officery,” Ridley said sarcastically.

“You think they’ll keep their mouths shut?” Nairo said.

“After you threatened ‘em like that, they’d be silly not to. Just out of curiosity, what would you do with their asses after you take their badges?”

“Shut up,” Nairo snapped at him.

“Is it something dirty?”

“Shut it.”

“I was just asking,” Ridley said with mock hurt.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Nairo said, eyeing the abandoned house turned abattoir. “I can’t wait to see your headquarters.”

“Let’s go!” Ridley said, tossing his smoke and stomping back out into the raging storm.