Chapter Twenty-Three

I walked into the Supe Squad building, waving at Max on duty next door. The relief on Fred and Liza's faces when they saw me was unmistakable and gratifying. At least some people were pleased to see me.

‘You must get a new phone sorted,' Liza scolded. ‘We need to be able to contact you. Whoever killed Tony could be after you as well.' She shuddered. ‘They could be after all of us.'

I couldn't meet her eyes. ‘Yes. You should be very careful when you're out and about on the streets. Don't go anywhere on your own after dark.'

‘Do you seriously think we could be in danger?' Fred asked.

‘Yes,' I said quietly. ‘I do.'

Fred straightened his back with a steely determination that was entirely at odds with the apathetic layabout I'd met on my first day. ‘We'll keep a look out,' he promised.

‘Good.' I scratched my neck. The oversized sweater was beginning to itch; I had to get my own clothes back. ‘Have you managed to find out anything?'

They exchanged glances. ‘I'll go first,' Liza said. ‘I've been through Tony's computer. There's not much on there that's useful, but I did check his search history.'

I knew from her expression that she'd found something. ‘And?'

‘He was looking up poisons.' She paused. ‘Specifically poisons that could incapacitate or weaken a person.'

I drew in a sharp breath. ‘So he wasn't taken completely unaware. He had an inkling of what was going on and that he was possibly in danger.'

‘That's what it looks like,' she said grimly.

I shook my head. ‘Why didn't he report it? Why didn't he take measures to ensure his own safety?'

Liza's answer was quiet. ‘I have no idea.'

‘Was there anything else on his computer?'

She handed me a printout. ‘There's this. It's what he was working on last. As far as I can tell, it's a list of all iotas – werewolves who are unranked.'

Rankings again. Why did that keep coming up? I frowned at the sheets of paper. There were a lot of names; the killer might well be one of them, but it would take a year to work through the list.

I sat down heavily. ‘How about you, Fred? Did you get anything on Tony's neighbour?'

‘Not much. Will Jones. Divorced. Forty-four years old. Pretty boring guy, if you ask me. He definitely doesn't like supes. He's signed a few petitions to try and get both Lisson Grove and Soho cleared of werewolves and vampires. A couple of years ago he had an altercation with a gremlin that got out of hand when she pranged his car. But he is exactly who he says he is – he works a lot, plays golf at weekends and generally keeps his nose clean. He's not the interesting part.'

I spotted a glimmer of excitement in Fred's eyes. ‘Go on.'

‘I went to see if I could talk to Mr Jones in person. He wasn't in, but I found something else.' He swung his laptop round so I could see it.

When I realised what the image was, I held my breath.

‘There's an ATM not far from Tony's building,' Fred explained. ‘And it has a camera installed. It's angled in the opposite direction so you can't see the entrance to the building, but you can clearly see who is walking nearby.' He pressed a key and the video footage began to play.

I hunkered down for a closer look. ‘This is brilliant, Fred.'

His cheeks flamed red. ‘I thought you'd like it.' He pointed at the screen. ‘Look, there's Tony. From the time stamp, he left his flat just before eleven o'clock on the night he was killed.'

By that time, my throat had already been slit. Had Tony been lured out like me? Or had he been planning to meet me and merely been derailed?

I stared at his ghostly image as he strolled past the ATM camera. His expression was set, his eyebrows lowered, but he didn't look particularly upset or afraid.

‘Obviously,' Fred continued, ‘we don't know exactly what time Tony's flat was turned over. Between the time he left and the morning, only three more people walk by.'

He clicked on the laptop to show me. A bearded man, who was quite clearly drunk, staggered past just before midnight. He was followed by a late-night dog walker an hour later, and what appeared to be a homeless guy who was shuffling aimlessly.

‘Unfortunately, we don't have a view of the other side and there are no cameras there. Whoever broke into Tony's place either did so earlier in the day or came from the opposite direction.'

‘It makes sense that the perp gained access earlier, and Tony discovered the break-in when he returned home after work.' I frowned at the screen. ‘That would explain why he went to spend the night in the DeVane.'

Fred's expression was earnest. ‘That's what I thought. I've been through the earlier footage, too. There are a couple of suspicious-looking characters. This one looks the most likely.' He moved the mouse, clicking until he located the right part of the video. Liza and I peered more closely and watched a heavy-set man walk past. He glanced continually over his shoulder, as if he were afraid he was being followed.

‘He does look suspicious,' I agreed. ‘But he might not have anything to do with Tony. I don't suppose you've managed to ID him?'

He shook his head. ‘No.' He brought the man's face into clearer focus.

As he did so, I spotted someone else and my blood immediately chilled. ‘Wait,' I said. ‘Zoom back out again.'

Fred glanced at me. ‘You think you have something?'

‘I don't know.' My voice was strained. ‘See what you can get of that woman. The one walking behind our Mr Suspicious.'

Fred fumbled with the keyboard. It seemed to take an age, and I felt myself growing more antsy by the second.

I stared at the flittering image. There was no doubt.

‘What is it?' Liza asked. ‘Who's that woman?'

‘Her name is Anna,' I whispered. ‘She's a werewolf.' I wished I could reach into the computer and somehow yank her out. ‘And two days before this video was recorded, she supposedly disappeared.'

***

I made Fred and Liza go home. Discovering Anna had lit a fire in all our bellies. I'd been right all along that Tony's death – and therefore mine also – was indeed linked to what had happened to Becca and Anna. But all three of us were feeling the strain of the day's events, and neither Fred nor Liza had had time to come to terms with Tony's loss. We all knew they needed a break.

For my part, I emptied my savings account and booked into Max's hotel next door. The Supe Squad sofa was all well and good, but I hadn't had a shower since before my first trip to the morgue. I desperately needed to scrub away the feeling of death and catch some sleep. A tired brain wouldn't help Tony – or Anna, assuming she was still alive.

Max was incredibly helpful. He spoke to some of the hotel staff and procured me a change of clothes after I muttered something vague about being forced to leave home in a hurry. I wasn't sure what conclusions he'd drawn from that, but he'd given me a brisk nod and patted my shoulder in sympathy. The man was a godsend.

When I walked out of the hotel a few hours later, refreshed and finally clean, I hoped he would still be on duty so I could thank him. Unfortunately, his glowering replacement was now standing outside. All I received was a dark look and a reluctantly muttered ‘good evening'. I ignored him; I had more important things to worry about than a bad-tempered bellman.

Now that it was dark and I was alone, I could feel the familiar, unnamed terror itching at my shoulder blades. I went to Tallulah, retrieved my crossbow and reloaded it. No, I didn't know how to use it properly and, yes, I'd almost accidentally killed Lukas with it, but I needed something to fend off my fear of the night. Holding the weapon definitely helped. The closer I got to finding out what had happened to Tony and me, the more danger I was putting myself in. If the killer came for me again, at least I'd go down fighting.

I adjusted my grip until the crossbow felt comfortable, then took off down the street. I had one destination in mind and, while a part of me wished that Lukas was with me, I couldn't delay visiting it.

I wondered what Jeremy would make of me strolling along the street and jumping at shadows while hefting a lethal weapon. I couldn't dwell on him; he was safely out of the way, and that was what counted right now.

It was early for Crystal, the club where Gregory had picked up Anna, but its doors were open. I was hopeful that I'd get the chance to quiz some of the staff before they became too busy. There weren't any bouncers hovering outside, but there was a pair of young werewolves at the front desk just beyond the front door. Both their smiles flickered when they spotted the crossbow. That was a good start.

‘You're the new one,' the blonde said. ‘The one who's taking over from Tony Brown. We've heard about you.'

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It meant that whoever had slit my throat no doubt knew that I was back from the dead – and could well be planning another attempt. On the other hand, it also meant it would be easier to get answers to my questions.

‘I'm not taking over from him. I'm only in Supe Squad temporarily.'

‘Uh-huh.' She ran her tongue over her teeth in a predatory fashion. ‘It's Emma, right?'

I glanced at the yellow zeta tag on her shoulder. ‘Yeah,' I said. ‘It is. Feel free to try and use my name to compel me to do your bidding – but I should tell you that Lady Sullivan has already tried that and failed. If you think you're bigger and better than her, then give it your best shot.'

Her wolfish expression immediately vanished. ‘I wouldn't do something like that,' she declared in a slightly too loud voice.

‘Of course you wouldn't.' I switched the crossbow to my other hand, and she swallowed.

The male werewolf cleared his throat. ‘I have to inform you that we're closing early tonight.' He shifted his weight. ‘You know, because it's almost the full moon.'

I supposed that free-flowing alcohol coupled with lunar effects wasn't a good mix. ‘Very sensible,' I said aloud. ‘I won't be staying long.' Then, without missing a beat, I asked, ‘When was Tony last here?'

‘Sunday,' he answered.

That was the night after Anna had gone missing, and the night before she'd popped up on the street outside his flat. Whether it was his job to do so or not, he'd been looking into her disappearance. Not only that, but he'd found her.

‘He doesn't usually come in here,' the werewolf continued. ‘But everyone knows who he is.' His gaze dropped. ‘Who he was. I'm sorry that he's dead.'

Whether that was true or not, I appreciated the effort. ‘Who did he talk to?'

They both shrugged. ‘He wasn't here for very long,' the blonde told me. ‘Maybe an hour at the most. He couldn't have spoken to many people.'

‘Thanks.' I started to move past them towards the interior.

‘It's twenty quid,' the female werewolf said. ‘The entrance fee is twenty quid.'

I stopped and looked at her.

‘But you don't have to pay, of course,' she added hastily

‘I'm not here to enjoy myself,' I said, in case they thought this was some sort of police shakedown. ‘This is work. Tony – DC Brown – was here not long before he died. I want to know why.'

They exchanged glances. ‘Kennedy,' the blonde blurted out. ‘Talk to Kennedy. He's the satyr at the end of the bar.'

A satyr? In a werewolf club? I was already interested. I nodded my thanks and strolled through.

It was immediately apparent that this was a hangout for young people. I didn't think of myself as old but, in comparison to the handful of punters in Crystal, I felt ancient. I wondered how Tony had managed, then I gave a wry smile. From what little I knew of him, he'd have loved every minute. Sadness twinged at me. It would have been nice to get to know him better.

I sighed and glanced along the long oak-topped bar. At the far end there was a man wearing a leather biker's jacket. He looked as out of place as I felt. This, I decided, had to be Kennedy. When I drew closer and saw his long ears and snub nose, I knew I was right.

I walked up, motioning to the stool beside him. ‘Is this seat taken?'

He didn't glance at me. ‘It's a free country.'

I hopped up. ‘I'm Emma.' I lifted the crossbow and placed it on the bar. This time his head turned, and he registered my weapon. ‘Detective Emma, I presume.'

‘Not quite yet,' I answered. ‘But close.'

He reached for his drink and raised it. ‘To Tony. He was a better man than he was allowed to be.' He drained the glass and motioned at the barman for another. ‘What would you like?'

I deliberately misunderstood his question. ‘To talk to you about Tony,' I said. ‘You're Kennedy?'

‘That's what Tony called me.' He swivelled to face me. ‘My real name is Lee Oswald.' He smiled humourlessly. ‘No middle name, though, and I don't tend to visit book depositories.'

Ah.

‘You can try and compel me with it, if you wish. I don't care.'

‘I'm not a supe,' I said. ‘And I'm not powerful. I doubt it would work, even if I wanted it to.'

‘That's not what I've been hearing.' The barman placed another drink in front of him and Kennedy raised his hand in thanks. ‘Tell me, why is Lord Horvath so fascinated by you?'

I stared at him. Kennedy or Lee Oswald or whatever he wanted to be called might look like a well-worn barfly, but he didn't miss a trick. ‘That I can't tell you.'

‘Can't or won't?'

‘Does it matter?'

He gazed down at his drink. ‘I suppose not.' He took a sip and savoured it. ‘Well, Detective Emma, what do you want to know?'

‘When did you last see Tony?'

‘Here,' he said. ‘Sunday night. He was looking for a wolf. Girl from the Sullivan clan.'

‘Did he find her?' I asked.

‘Nope. I don't know why he was bothering. All he had to do was wait until this weekend.' He smiled sadly. ‘Patience was never Tony's strong suit.'

‘This weekend?'

He gave me a long look that suggested I was very dim. ‘It's the full moon.'

‘I know that. What difference does the full moon make?'

‘Wolves are an honourable bunch and they follow the rules. They can't control the change during the full moon. It doesn't matter who they are or what state they're in, they all go to St James's Park. I've seen a werewolf riddled with cancer pull himself there. A grieving widow walked there from her husband's funeral just before sunset.' He snorted. ‘Hell, there was one guy who'd been in a car crash and had his leg amputated in the morning. By the evening, he was with all the others. He was delirious with pain meds, but he was still there. Every wolf in the city gets to St James's on the night of the full moon. It's coded in their DNA.'

‘Sometimes a werewolf must not be able get there. Or refuses to go.'

His response was gruff. ‘It never happens.'

‘If it did?'

‘It doesn't.'

I leaned back. If what he was saying were true, then Anna would be at St James's in two nights' time. Assuming she was still alive. Maybe nobody had thought to tell me that because they believed I already knew. My lack of knowledge of the supernatural world was proving an insuperable barrier in this investigation.

‘I'll never learn everything there is to know about supes,' I muttered, as much to myself as to Kennedy. ‘We speak the same language, we live in the same city and we breathe the same air. And that's about as far as it goes.'

‘The greatest enemy of knowledge isn't ignorance, it's the refusal to do anything about that ignorance. That's what we should really be afraid of. At least you're trying.'

I hadn't expected to find a philosopher in Crystal. ‘Why are you here?' I asked curiously. ‘Why come to a werewolf nightclub?'

‘Our kinds are very different,' he told me simply. ‘Everyone focuses on the vamps and wolves because they're the largest groups with all the power. The Others, like me, are often overlooked – but that doesn't mean there's not the potential for a lot to go wrong between us. Spending time with the clans helps me understand them better. And it's only through true understanding that we can have peace.' He met my eyes. ‘I think Tony was just beginning to realise that for himself. Not many humans do.'

I gazed at him. And then, because it seemed the right thing do, I said, ‘You know, I think I will have a drink with you after all.'