Chapter
One
DOUGLAS SAWYER
“Tell me again what happened.”
Detective Douglas Sawyer didn’t even try to hide his impatience or his contempt for this suit, this man, he’d never seen before. “Was the first time not enough for you? Or the three times I told my boss? Or what you’ve no doubt already read in my report? Would you like me to draw you a picture?” He held out his hand. “Gimme your crayons.”
The suit smiled at him, not even slightly perturbed. It was as if he almost expected it. “So you were at the Macquarie Wharf...”
Sawyer sighed. “Kings Pier, Macquarie Wharf,” he corrected, as if that was expected too. “I wasn’tatthe pier. At 10:15 p.m., I was on my way home when I got a code two-four from dispatch. Dock workers at Pier Five saying there was an unauthorised person on the property, seemed distressed. I thenwentto Pier Five. Found the perp, identified myself, and?—”
“And how did he seem?”
Irritated at the interruption, Sawyer shot the suit a glare. “Distressed.”
“Was he talking? Rambling? What did he say?”
“Is this a test on my report writing skills? Because?—”
The suit smiled. “Please answer the question.”
“He was rambling.”
“About?”
“About how someone was coming. She was coming. It was time, and nothing could stop her.” Sawyer shook his head. “He wasn’t making a great deal of sense.”
The suit nodded thoughtfully. “And then what?”
“I suggested he calm down and tell me all about it, but he ran. I pursued on foot toward Constitution Dock, where he....” Sawyer trailed off. He’d already been laughed at by his superiors and the other cops, and he didn’t fancy going through that again.
“He what, Detective Sawyer?” The suit smiled as if he had all the time in the world.
“He got to the edge of the pier, turned to face me, and shook his head. He was sweating, clearly distressed,” Sawyer said as he lifted his chin and looked the suit in the eye. “Then he shimmered, his eyes changed, and he dove into the water.”
The suit smiled at him. Not in a condescending way as his superiors had, but in a trying-to-confirm way. “He shimmered?”
Sawyer sighed. “It’s the best way I can describe it. I’m sorry, who are you?” Sawyer asked. “It’s not that I didn’t catch your name. You didn’t give it. You just came in here, flashed a badge on my captain, and pulled rank.”
He smiled again, tighter this time. “Inspector Hadeom, Specialist Unit in Division Thirteen,” he murmured as if placating a child with words that meant nothing at all.
Sawyer had never heard of that unit.
“So then the perp shimmered,” Hadeom continued, “as you said, and his eyes changed. Can you describe that?”
Sawyer looked at the mirrored glass window behind which he knew half his colleagues would be watching and more than likely laughing at him.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“They’re not watching,” Hadeom said. “And I’ve had the cameras turned off. This conversation is not being recorded. Whatever you say is between you and me.”
Sawyer almost scoffed because he couldn’t just request the cameras not record an interview... though somehow, he didn’t doubt it.
“His eyes, Detective,” Hadeom prompted. “How did they change?”
“His pupils. They changed shape.” Sawyer could still see the moment in his mind. He hadn’t imagined it, no matter how brief it had been and how poor the lighting. “Ever seen a goat’s eyes? Where the pupil is a horizontal slit? They looked like that.”
