As I stepped back into the night, I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Channing.
‘Check the door cameras on numbers twelve through sixteen,’ I said. ‘Now.’
Chapter Three
Annoyingly, of the two doors on the street with door cams, one was out of charge and the other had been smashed a few nights ago by destructive kids trying to get their kicks. I could strangle the vandalising teens. Without their idiocy, we might have captured the whole murder on camera.
The location of the murder was a clear taunt, too. Jingo had made sure the corpse was on Kate’s property, and he knew full well I’d get called in to deal with it. Crane wasn’t the only arsehole in my life.
I called Reed, Jingo’s second-in-command.
‘Yeah?’ he answered laconically.
‘You want to tell me which body Jingo’s now in?’
There was a pause. ‘No, not really.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
Reed laughed. ‘I don’t think so, Inspector.’
‘Then tell Jingo “fuck you”from me.’
‘He’ll be delighted to get any message from you with “fuck” in it,’ Reed said mockingly.
My teeth ground, and I hung up.
‘Well,’ Channing said mildly, ‘we wouldn’t want it to be easy.’
I snorted. ‘No. We wouldn’t. What did you get from the door-to-door?’
‘Sweet FA,’ Channing confirmed grumpily. ‘No one saw or heard anything, though a witch who lives at number 14 said her anti-vampyr runes flared at roughly the same time Troy Fairglass said he found the body.’
‘Interesting,’ I murmured. ‘There were no signs of exsanguination. Blood was dried on Aspen’s skin, his face. They have supernatural strength and speed, but if a vampyr was responsible for Aspen’s death, they’ve shown remarkable restraint in not licking up the blood. Unlike satyr blood, which is poisonous to vampyrs, dryad blood is known to be especially tasty.’
Channing grimaced at the thought.
‘All right,’ I continued, musing aloud. ‘We’ve got a vamp wandering around who may or may not have wandered too close to a ward. That’s something to pull at.’ I checked the time and grimaced. ‘We’ve been on the clock for thirteen hours and we’re both running on empty. Let’s call it a day and pick it up tomorrow when we’re fresh and have reports from Ed and Crane to dig into.’
Channingcracked a yawn. ‘Sounds good. You want me to drop you at your mum’s?’
‘Nah,’ I said lightly. We were close to Mum’s house. ‘I’ll walk. Thanks for the offer though.’ The steps would give me time to settle the murder into my head, to put it away before I joined my family for a cup of tea and maybe some warmed-up dinner if Mum had any leftovers.
‘Sure thing. Night, boss.’
I watched Channing walk to his car and motor off. I picked up my father’s old briefcase – full of potions and other useful things – and started to walk towards Mum’s house.
The autumn air was brisk but not too cold, and as my muscles coiled and moved I couldn’t help but think of Jude Jingo and which poor bastard’s body he had taken.
I realised abruptly that I was walking the same path home I’d taken the day I was kidnapped. I froze mid-step, swallowing reflexively.
Okay, Pigdog?Loki asked from a nearby lamppost. He had been flitting from post to post, waiting for me to catch up before he flew on, but he too had frozen when he sensed my disquiet.
I was taken here. Kidnapped. Not this precise spot, but on this road. Tantalisingly close to home. Tauntingly close to home.
We take another route?he suggested softly.
The suggestion was sensible, and it was hard to stay on this street, having realised its significance. I normally avoided this road for just that reason.
